The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1894-01-13

II
and then the beach would scream as
would be quiet for little space. II
was in one of these pauses that there
came to her ear dreary cry
like moan. The color left
her handsome face, and she
looked far and wide over the
sea. There was nothing, and the surf
roared and screamed again. Once
more she heard it. 1t made her heart
beat fast, she knew not why. She had
read of the mysterious sounds of the
sea-. of the moan heard on the ocean
before great storms. What did it
mean? Why did she hear il? 1t was
almost human in its faint sighing-tit-
full, half heard-yet felt, like pain in
the heart. She wrapped her light
| cloak about her and shivered. The sea
was purple under the western clouds,
| blue in the east, with splendid splashes
| of green over the shoals. There was a
faint murmur of music and laughter
from the hotel. At her feet rose the
chirp of cricket. Peace everywhere,
save for that moaning from the sea-
80, if it would only speak plainly
1T means so much and says SO little.
All! there is n man coming"
The approach of any human being
seemed n comfort, and she sat still,
looking towards the hotel to where
tall, plainly-dresscd man came slowly
along the path. She was at loss to
understand why her pulse had raced
with such speed. Could this strange
unearthly voice be a cry from the un-
known bidding her pause? Was it n
real voice? Did she hear it
| all? Was it only cry picked
out by her heart from
the mass of the sonorous thunder on
the beach, as sea-shell picks out
tone from the roar of the sea? She
would ask this man il he too heard the
sound. AS he came nearer she felt in
sense safe. His face bespoke man
of simple, unaffected life and honest
heart His blue eyes looked into hers
for an instant only, and in that quick
glance she felt she could trust him.
With this thought there came also
regretful instant of pity for herself
that she must look at any one to see
If he be indeed man.
Good evening, miss.
He spoke pleasantly and naturally,
much as man at home might welcome
stranger. She guessed at 'once that
he was the keeper of the light house.
She rose from the yellow stone on
which she sat, and then saw that it
was the stepping-stone to the stile and
that she blocked the way.1
beg pardon, | did not see was in
your path
"All right, marin. No consequence.
I'd rather hoped over the fence than
had a lady rise"
81 beg pardon, sir, for OBTAINING you,
but could you explain that strange
sound from the sea? ! do not under
stand why it shonld be-"
"It's the two-fathom buoy"
Buoy"
"lcs. Whistling buoy. Beacon,
you know. Always makes that noise
when there is a sea on. Warning for
boats making this port"
"Ah! ] comprehend. Maritime signal
for vessels-to warn against wreck"
"Yes, marin. Sounds kinder dismal
in pleasant weather, but it's powerful
pretty music If you're steering by dead
reckoning and thick fog coming up
up or driving snow hiding the light"
! Here was politeness unknown in
France. She saw from his unaffected
manner that it was the genuine cour-
tesy of kindness and respect, and not
a pretended gallantry. For an instant
the novelty of such remark confused
her, precisely as she had been confused
in New York the day she landed there
when stranger rose and silently gave
her Il seat in II street car At that in
slant the faint moan from the sea
came again. m
Have many lives been saved from
wreck by that sound?''
Cant tell marin. Mebby great
many, mebby none at all. Anyway,
it may yet save some life from going to
smash; and so it is kept there, because
If one life is saved by hearing the
thing whstling in the dark it will pay
to let it whistle all the time, even if it
does sound kinder forlorn to folks safe
on shore
THE sea is so sad. So many wrecks
are here. oh, pardon me; | should not
detain you"
"'Taint no matter. I've just been
to the hotel with Mai. Nothing par
ticular TO do. Glad to show strangers
over the light"
With an instructive grasp at the fact
that through this simple and transpar-
| ent nature she might obtain some in,
formation of value, she smiled swcetly
| and said
IL am q stranger in America"
$50 / see, marin"
~ have heard much of American
politencss. am quite alone yet, if
it be- possible, shall greatly admire
to see the lighthouse. My home is
Paris, where we have not such things"
Come right in. Guess fathers
round somewhere"
Are not the ladies of your house Mt
J home?"
mo; Mai's gone to the hotel. It's