The record-union., 1894-12-08

! like, l thought, in her humble gratitude,
and the same instant l saw Pierre Flo
| quet dragging his little wife up the COM
| panlon way, pointing with pride TO the
lmpuisIve fervor of Celeste, while Justify
| shouting:
''Marthe, Marthe. Sect So soon are
sore hearts mended with the young"
From this time on it seemed that almost
| perfect happiness had come to all on
| board the Enriqueta del Meira. Innocent
| children could have been no more light
! hearted and apparently tree from secret
hurts than we.
In the long hours of the voyage when
the most tritling incident OF diversion
| was seized upon eagerly and utilized
again and again for merriment and enter
/ talnment, We had all come 10 pass much
| time in the clean and roomy hold. The
| skies above us were lair, the sea beneath
us favorable, and the sunlight at times
! was almost binding upon the open deck.
In the hold an open hatchWay gave
| abundant air and light. 1t was always
| cool and shaded here; and as it con-
| talned only the belongings of Pierre
FIoqueps family, the place soon wore
1 most comfortable and hOmewIse look.
J Aside from this, Pierre tloQuet was
! taking to his new home in Spain some
! Breton calves and sheep. The feeding
and caring for these dunno Orutes, an irIl-
some task, perhaps on land, became
! source OF ceaseleSS interest ana dengh in
| our enforced idleness at sea.
| kOugn stanchions and pens had been
! made Tor them where sailing vessels
| lorecaStIe usually stands, TAR forward in
| the hold. Beyond these, packed closely in
! the schooner's Wedgelike stem, were
| bags of grain and shaggy bales Of the
| toOthsome Carnac hay.
For hours Of each day the sleek calves
and yelloW-eyed sheep were freed from
! their bondage and disported themselves
| almost with human delight with Pierre
| EloQuets brood of younger children,
white we older folk looked on the rough
sport with smiles, or fell merry victims
TO charge and counter charge OF reckless
| battaiions of-children and pets.
| In these innocent diversions Celeste
never joined. 1t was but seldom that she
would enter the shadoWy hold at all.
! Whenever she was persuaded to the place,
| her manner was iurtlve and troubled, anu
at times when we were walking back and
! forth, with her sister Clothlde beside us,
| and In our turnlngs came close to the
! penned animals, she would utter little
shrieks of fright and run from US trem-
| bling 10 the deck.
All of this filled me with unaccountable
! concern, though in answer 10 my looks
! Of wonder and inquiry ClOthilde's grave
| and mourniul eyes seemed 10 give back
! looks OF merriment not unmiXed with
| alarm.
At such times l would seek Celeste, and,
without at once referring to her strange
/ demoanor, would at first quiet her by
| teaching her, as had grown into 4 pleas
| ant habit, the few Andalusian airs |
| knew, and through their gentle influence
at last find way to tax her with her cow
ardice, but l never got but the one an
swer then.
"Oh, sir, / never go there, but seem
| TO see his face, peering from behind the
! beasts and bales of Carnac hay! Do not
speak of this to Father Pierre!"
! Insensibly the greater her timidity was
! shown the more intense became my tas-
| cnation for that quarter OF our schooner'S
| hold.
| If some forbidding wrath haunted it I
| haunted 1t also, but never so it could at
tract attention TO Celeste's reputsfon and
! dread. Ii the poor soul was scourged by
/ still another dark secret, l reelected, 1t
should remain her own.
Late one afternoon | had dozed here as
! the children romped and played. Per-
| haps the cessation of their wild games and
the silence which followed had finally
aroused me. When 1 awoke the yellow
! light streaming through the hatchway
! told me that sunset and the evening meal
| had nearly come.
! The hold was quite deserted As l
arose l fanc1ed L saw something like 4
shadow dart back among the shadows
| ana instantly lose itself behind the bales
of hay. I was irresistibly drawn to-
wards it.
l at once went among the calves and
! the sheep. They were soberly murching
| their food, and I saw nothing unusual
here. 1 was about to turn away, when L
detected a slight movement and rustling
! behind the bales of hay.
''Some roguish child hiding in play" I
thought, as L lesped upon the lower bales,
and, thrusting my arm behind the higher
ones, called out gaily rs In sportive taunt:
Il have you now, monsieur ~
Truly L had clutched some humans
head; but not that of one Of Pierre Flo
! ouets children; for the next instant a
! stalwart form followed my swiftly with
drawn arm, and in one of its clenched
and trembling hands there flashed an
ugly knife.
| Spanish tongue, while struggling to reach
me, as if to silence any outcry l might
| make.
! l was now safely behinda strong barred
| stanchion. l could have gained the mid
| die Of the hold and leaped through the
hatchway to my friends, before he could
| have reached me, and seeming to realize
this, his manner instantly changed to one
of temporiZation and parley.
"Who are you, and why are you here ?"
| 1 sternly demanded.
Il am poor Spaniard, seeking my own
| land with heavy heart ~
His tone was pitiful now, and his situa-
! ton filled me with a strange compassion.
! But / stolidiy urged:
| pierre troquet has warm heart. He
would deal generously with you if you
came TO him with your distress.''
mo, no, no." he retorted with savage
impetuosity. You know but one side of
| Pierre Floquet. We're 1 to go to him,
/ Hs1t of
| lence would come to him or to me-per-
| haps to more"
Here he made significant gesture with
his knife point toward his breast.
"Then," l said, reaching my hand to
! his and grasping it reassuringly, "it is
better that L should be your friend than
| he or you an assassin"
He nodded his head swiftly, gratefully,
| as he said:
There are other days to come in which
you will not regret such friendship"
Have you food?" / asked.
! PLENTY and to spare"
| "And drink ?"
"Both water and wine"
| "Then | can do nothing for you"
"But silence" ]" he Interrupted eagerly.
Complete silence to Floquet, to his sons
and-and to both his daughters. Shall it
| be miner"
Forever, if that will help you to safety
| and friends"
But they were calling me to the cabin:
! calling me from the upper evening shad-
! ows into the now darker shadows of the
| hold. Our hands cIasped tightly again,
ana [ felt that the desperate stowaway
was certain of his trust. l turned away
! bewildered and came TO the little cabin
/ table so distracted and unneryed that
! Pierre floquet roared out:
"Our stranger friend has looked upon
| a.