The Washington times., 1894-07-15

He looked at me in kind of breathless
horror.
.'Te attempt such thing would be death to
both OF US, he cried. Garry you along this
slippery c!iff3-a sheer impossibility! You
are so piucky, Mildred-come, you are not
afraid"
This appeal.did not touch me.
II am afraid-I am awfully afraid. AMI
shall not come. You have not got broken
arm
II can't carry you" he said-he did not
look angry, only rather white-''but perhaps
can help you. Stand up"
did SO: then he took Off his necktie, which
he slipped through my leathern belt Mt the
back. and holding the ends of this support in
his hand he drove me on ahead of him.
Though 1 staggered and tottered, and
though my head reeled. yet the frmness OF
his grasp was reassuring and 1 clambered on.
All the rude and angry things said to him
in my pain and fear may have been drowned
in the din of the storm: at any rate he never
answered me. ANY man would have shown
forbearance with the owner OF a broken arm.
1t was terrible climb in the teeth of the
wind. do not suppose that Mr.. Close was a
coward, but when we reached tae jutting
cliff and found that the sea had submerged
the gully, in which the breakers se.thed and
roared, he turned white as death and set his
teeth, grooming with as deep groan as any
! began to cry afresh.
Look, look!' said. "the sea is deep upon
the path; the tide has turned before its time.
/ know it has. And l can't swim; no one
could swim in such a sea. We shall be
drowned; we must be drowned; nothing can
save u.s."
Mr. Closes words were more reassuring
than his fa9e. He said that on his way he had
met two fishermen. who, on hearing whittier
he was bound, had warned him Of the tide
and of the danger of the rocks.
IT told them why went" he said. "No
doubt they'll keep Il lookout for US, and
when we don't come back they will under
stand"
Understanding is no good" I sobbed.
ethey can't save us: no boat could take us off.
The storm is fearful and / can't be hauled up
the cliff with broken arm; it would be
agony"
A wave, bigger by far than its fellows, came
tearing up the gully at a gallop, drenching
the rock on which we stood.
I'VE must go back" Mr.. Close said; "this
place isn't safe now. We must climb as far
up tine cliff as possible; with luck We may be
able to reach high-water mark and save our
selves without the help of anyone"
For the second time / sat down on the
seaweed and refused to move. The pain and
terror drove me frantic.
Mr.. Close scolded, besought, implored
thiCdtcucu mcs was iuiuoNhDfCs
lie resorted to q measure which undid us
both: he was pale as ashes and his rough
voice grew tender, a gentleness softened his
shrewd eyes, held my breath, and stopped
my sobs and listened.
Mildred" he said, ''you are . woman.
You must have beneath these childish
yagaries a woman's heart. II you won't think
OF your own life, think of mine-which is not
wholly mine, for have given it away-and
come"
rose slowly to my feet, and went a step in
the direction he indicated. My own voice was
not sweet; it croaked but 1t was very low
"Given up life? What nonsense. Who tor
ITO someone for whom must keep 1t,
Mildred. She thinks 1t is worth keeping"
'Who Is she?"
thought knew the answer-my arm
ceased aching rs listened.
'.You do not know her?"
''Don't really?"
''No; you have never seen her. She Is
cousin Of my own"
The pain came throbbing back in,o my arm