The Indiana State sentinel., 1894-08-22
THE MAN FROM CRIMSBY.

door, he lifted the latch and-as was the
custom-walked straight in. A slim.
fair-haired girl peeped into the room
! from side door. ''Oh, it's you, An
drew" she said, coming forward.
"Ay, it's me. l cam just TO ask how
your mother is today"
She's a piece better this morn; but
she rested i'll last night. Nellie an
sat up wi her most all night; but she's
dropped off asleep now. TAX chair,
| Andrew"
Andrew perched himself on the edge
of the nearest rush-bottomed chair and
fumbled hesitatingly with his cap be-
tween his knees II was down by the
| Trawlers when the letters came" he
said. after a strained interval. There
was one for We. Hilda. an l made free
| TO say I'd bring it, Here 'us.
For me?' and Hilda's eyes frightened
! as she stretched out her hand. Then
it's fro Ben. isn't it, Andrew"
It's the Grimsby mark" replied An
drew shortly.
Then it must be fro Ben. He said
| got back to Grimsby. An how l trem-
bled for him all through that storm o
| Monday. But he's safe-this shows he's
safe, Andrew" A plaintive look of
alarm crept into her blue eyes as
Andrew. never answering. kept his gaze
clamped to the floor This shows he's
safer she repeated quaveringly.
! "I'll tell ye straight out. Hilda, what
! they were sayin' over at Morperland yes
terdly. P'r'aps that letter may con-
! tradict 1t all, but there was deal o
| nasty talk about the Vampire-as how
she'd gone doom 4 the
Read it TO me-" cried Hilda. thrusting
! the missive into his hand. "Ye knaw
can't mysen. Read it, Andrew
Taking firm grip of his lips, Andrew
| opened the letter and glanced ut the
! signature. Its moan fro him." ne said.
It's wrote by Peter Worsley, the skipper
! o the Vampire
Not from Benr exclaimed Hilda
TREMENDOUSLY. He isn't. he isn't-dead?'
Andrew nodded. 'Drownded" he muir
INJURED huskly.
C.utching at her throat, Hilda sank
in,O chair and hid her face in her palms.
Presently she looked up her lips paliid.
her eyeiids scarlet 'I can bear 1t now,
+ Andrew she said. Read IL ali TO me-"
To caligraphy Of the Vampires master
must have been all but illegible judging
from the difficulty Andrew had in de-
c-PIering it. He read slowly. humming
and having through the who,e epistle.
Here is the gist Of it. In the recent
heavy gales. the Vampire crazy under
manned timber-ship-had sprung leak.
her crew being eventually compelled 10
abandon the laundering vessel and take
10 the long-boat. Their parlous case was
lite bettered thereby, for twice the boat
had been capsized when she was righted
tn second time. only four Of the sailors
the ,wo men missing, the mate, Ben
Webb. one. The survivors were
picked up ON the following day and landed
al Grimsby. 1t was in fu,fl.m2nt OF a
pledge made at the outset Of their peril,
and in faLeful anticipation Of its outcome.
that Capt. WOrsley now broke the sad
news 10 the dead mans sweetheart.
Even IN the iptesity of her GRIEF. Hilda
had thought Of her mothers much
needed slumber. and not cry escaped her
he oh
hearted general, saw that no sympa ny
Of MS could soothe her distress; she must
Just fret her dole" And 50 ne left her
with her sorrOw.
81 had TO do it," he muttered. striding'
backward. An it's better that nor
tOther-it's better" Fervently he added:
God sead she doesn't let anybody e.se
read it"'
He might have been at peace on that
score. To Hilda. the skpper's letter was
as the last words of her drowned lover
IA sacred thing, not lightly to be
ing cred or spoken Of; she packed It
away with the sundry ribbons, gloves
and cheap gewgdws Ben had given her
10 be treasured with them throughout
this side Of time.
: They who best know the Port St Bede
: fox viii least accuse them Of want Of
! heart. Out Of sheer mercy for the girl
/ they avoided all allusion to Ben Webb:
. and on her side, Hide kept her woe to
herself. The blow was for her shoulders
alone. and she bore its smart bravely.
Besides. she and her mother had 70 live:
I the net making and mending must he at
/ tended 10. even though the heart NAV
ache and the eyes blister with unshed
. tears.
So two years went by. Then, her
mother having been laid TO her last rest
! under the gnarled elms in the church
yard, Hilda went to live with her sister.
Abel Maxon, the cooper's wife At this
! 1uncture, hoping that time had salved
! her wound. Andrew COpley made bold
! to offer her all an honest man can offer
| the woman he lOves-his name his home.
his big steadfast heart. His insight was
| at fault, for she would have none OF
| them In all simplicity, she told him
that her love lay dead with him who
slept in the deep seas; she chose to share
the lot OF no man to whom she could
not give herself heartily, wholly.
i knaw ye like me, Andrew" she
/ said, frankly; I've al'ays knawn it. on
| thank you. II ever 1 come to think l.
| that other way, an If | see we're i the
/ same mind still. I'll speak first. Don't
ask me any more, Andrew; I'll speak
! first"
Henceforth. as before. they were
| friends-ciose. firm friends-but no fur
| ther. Season after season Andrew sailed
off in his yawl for the white-fshing On
! the Dogger. returning each time with
! brain afiame for the sight OF her. And
| she met him with a mere smile and
! ndnQSndke, IN ner eyes no token of
| change, no glimmer of awakening affec-
| tiOn.
Eight years thus numbered away-eight
| weary. joyless years-and neither Hllda
| nor Andrew had sought to break through
| their part Of silence. About this time
! Hilda was sore stricken with typhoid
then rife in the village, and for an anx-
| ious space she dwelt on the very border
| line Of here and hereafter. On Andrews
| persuasion-he stalking his word that the
| great mans fees should be forthcoming
Abel called in DR.. Ratciff Of Morper-
| land. under whose care Hilda slowly be-
| gan to mend. 1t was while Andrew was
| away at the Banks-the Doctors COM
| fOrting assurances for company-that the
| truth stripped itself before Hilda, to tor
| ture and affiict her with it's mocking
! ghastlness.
AS yet she was not able TO leave her
| bed but lay there with pinched face. her
! hair tangled on the pillow. her thin blue
fingers twitching idly at the garish patch
work quilt, her eyes wandering 10 the
! half-open lattice through which was
| borne the distant sough OF the waves
| and whence she could see their sun
| hecked crests far out beyond the Fork
! rocks. Then she would turn to answer
some question put TO her by her little
niece. Mary-Abel's eldest daughter, "ris-
ing ten"-who had crept into the sick
! room. Presently the little maid fell to
babbling, childlike. Of the doings and
sayings OF her school friends.
cay. but yen be gettln' a fine schol-