Waterbury evening Democrat., 1894-01-13

CT sheepishly siding up to my bed, "but haven't quite forgotten the training of my youth nor the customs of my native land ,and I am going to do now what, think, your mother would be we'll pleased with" And sitting down on the edge of my berth he be- gan to read. His voice was not very steady, and he coughed a good deal more than seemed at all necessary.
 As foreme, I listened in dreamy, half conscious state, feeling no fear, only dimly pitying the reader whose emotion was so | keen. When he had finished reading, he bent over me, stroking back my hair. Its | got the golden glint of boyhood in it yet" {" he murmured, and then lower and very huskily, Would you like me to pray2" | It was trouble to speak, so held out my hand, caught his and pressed it by way | of answer. He returned the pressure, look ing down upon my hand and caressing it for moment, then holding it softly but firmly between his rough palms he went on his knees. When he rose, something at the porthole seemed suddenly to attract his attention. He stared hard for minute or 1 so then cast shamefaced, sidelong glance at me.
 | "Damme if I've played the parson for years before," he laughed, furtively draw ing the back of his hand across his eyes, then, as if fearing an answer, he hurried away.
 | It might be that same evening, or it might be some days or even a week later, for I have but dim and confused memory of that period, that he came to me with a terrified face. saying the ship was in im- minent peril. His speech was not immedi- ately intelligible, for I seemed to be recov- ering from a stupor, but at length I caught l tho word sttyEotarSDout D and avaD fo rou dull sense it sounded ominous. Hardly had the word passed his lips when the brig l shook to her center as a cannon was fired | on deck.
 | That's to try to break it." he said "Good God" he cried in the same breath, | but in tone that was startlingly different ''it's upon usl Mate, this means hell and | destruction"
 | Instantaneously there was great crash, as if a sudden blow had rent our timbers, and the brig flew up at the bows like a | fisherman's punt when @ heavy weight is swung on behind. had my sconce dented in the bunk, and MT. Watson swept the floor with his back like kind of inconti- nent bosom. When in the rebound the stern went up in turn, fell back to my place breathless and helpless, and the super cargo, scrambling to his feet with the cat like agility of sailor, made desperately for the companionway.
 Then for an instant the vessel seemed to | lie still, but the next she was reeling and | dancing like an eggshell in a boiling cal dron. Now she would rear from the bows, now from the stern, then tumble on her beam ends, careening till mast and keel must have been level, then rebound, then spring, shaking herself like a thing de mented with pain, and all the while she I II. 1 terrorizing, humanlike sense of the bangs l of dissolution. Iclung to my bunk with all my feeble might unable to discern any thing clearly, yet conscious in spite of dark l ness and terror of the swish of water rush. | ing through the open door.
 | After awhile MT. Watson came back. 1 His face was very white and his manner ex- cited l looked at him beseechingly for news, for in the tumult could not hope to make myself heard. He did not keep me l long in suspense.
 | Smashed by the stern!'' he shouted at the pitch of his voice, bending over me as he held on by the side of my berth. 1.-The | spout hit us, carrying with it masts and rigging, and now we're reeling in the grip of @ tornado. The fury of the pits let loose on us. Wind and fire and water, all contending against us. And, worse than that, we're waterlogged and the internal crew threatening to take to the boats. Cap tain's keeping them at it with the pistol. Keep you still; I'll come back again."
 could say nothing, could do nothing, I only lie and listen to the raging of pande- monium and speculate what would come of it all. Presently Mir. Watson returned, his face winter than ever.
 "The brig's done for," he shouted.
 'The first blow killed her. It's terrific. l have been through simeon and tornado and never saw anything like this. They're go- | ing to batten down, though heaven knows | why. I must run. But don't you be fright l ened; I'll not desert you"
 He bolted up the companionway, and the matches closed with bang.
 I passed an eternity hearkening in the darkness, which the lightning made lurid expecting every moment to feel the suction and hear the gurgle of death as the ship went down. But we were dying hard.
 By and by began to think the fury ot the tempest was abating and that the movements of the brig were steadier. Then I wondered why they were keeping me closed down there like a rat in it's hole Another eternity passed ere there was any evidence that was remembered. At last the matches were thrown open, and looked with joyful and frantic eagerness for Mr. Watson. To my horror, he did not come Sicker with fear than disease, I got to my elbow to listen. In momentary Hull ot the blast l heard the rattle of ropes on the ships side and then splash, as if some fiat bottomed object had struck the water.
 A terrible fear, a terrible suspicion struck into my vitals, and weak as I was I rose and groping my way through the darkness to porthole thrust my face against the | glass. There were boats alongside, and the officers and crew, who looked like demons ill the livid light, were struggling and fight ing to get into them. With the frenzy ot death, twisting and tugging and tearing, tried to open the port, but the screws were stiff and my fingers nerveless, and failed Then, my face against the glass; I shrieked as only lost man can. The next instant the glass was in shivers, and I was implor ing those without not to abandon me. But the tempest drowned my voice. No one heard-at least no one needed me One by one in the hellish confiagration of sea and sky the boats rowed away, leaving me alone on the sinking brig.