The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1895-08-11

the covers OF a GuSky tome as a strong
ship plunged heavily through the white
North Sea waves. with a fierce easterly
gale whistling round her salt-wet masts,
and the straining cordage above, while
close ahead lay the English shore. And sea
and sky were closing in truth that even
ing upon the rough lives OF those who
manned that dripping, Keeling vessel. A
week before she had come out of the Bal
tic. rolling through the green Helsingborg
sound. with a waist-deep cargo of red
Swedish iron ore; day from soundings
the wind had gone round. blowing with
ever-gathering force from the north. and
behind it the sky had dropped down until
the eddying grey clouds seemed scarcely
higher than the truck on the mainmast
head, and sun and stars were alike hidden
from view.
Happily for those who sailed that ship,
a fair sea-way lay before her and through
the mist and fog. without knowledge or
guidance. they had plunged, passing
ghostly shadow ships now and
again. and seeing the hocks of sea-mews
sweep by them as white as the foam which
shot mast high into the air every time a
wave burst in thunder and confusion on
their counter.
Day after day they had flown before the
gale through those signless grey sea
wastes. and now tonight. with the dark
ness closing down. the English coast
should have been somewhere close at hand,
81,
dripping oil-skinned crew who stared out
ahead into the gathering twilight could
tell for certain.
Up in the bows, his right arm linked in
the fore shrouds, his thick blue jacket but
toned to the chin, the white swirl OF the
water the last wave had sent on board
playing ankle-deep about his great sea-
boots stood the captain, a pleasant young
fellow 10 look upon, broad-shouldered
burnt with the bronze of stronger sunshine
than any known to northern seas, the
touch OF salt Atlantic gales in his crisp
black hair-it was but natural he should
be anxious standing there alone, with the
driving spray in his face, and the tough
ship under him trembling in every FIBER
as she lurched into the white confusion
OF the darkness ahead. And yet that anx-
aety IN his frowing face was not all of
the seal Was it England he was approach
sng, he kept saying to himself-really Eng
land! He glanced back down the deck to
see how nearly any of his men were watch
ing him, then turned again to where the
tumbled fields of water We're running into
the haven of the darkness, and frowned,
and sighed, and stared with eyes that
took little note of sea or Sky.
A year ago he had left this very coast,
rinsr in a # g,
see it again, and leaving behind him as
fair and broken-hearted girl as has ever
put her trust in a handsome face, and been
betrayed and deserted. But before John
Motram had sailed a week that fit of base
less anger was over and he was sorry;
before the ink was well dry on the in
denture which bound him to the long
voyage that was only Just now ending.
the glamour Of that sweet girl on shore
the fun perception OF his own basenass
and the misery he had left her to. did all
that her tears and supplications had fail
ed to do, and he loved her with all the
poignancy which absence lends to affec-
zion, loved her as though that fit of way
Wardness, and the fatal outburst OF wrath
had parted them, had never been.
All round the world he had been haunted
with remembrance of that last morning
IN the little fisher cottage by the York
shire beach whore she dwelt with her
bedridden father. he had felt again and
again the press of her arms as she strove
10 Move him to compunction her hot
white tears on his strong brown hands as
he threw her Off-maddened for the mo-
ment by trivial cause of shameful in
adequacy; the cruel quivering cry
or her shame and betrayal had
rung in his ears and followed
MIN from east to west. the sight of her
as he STROBE fiercely from the cottage
70 ~ f1,.s ..trf -
table, her white face hidden in her clasp
ed hands, her fair brown hair all aspread
upon the board had haunted him from sea
TO sea and shore to shore
ana here he was upon the vast coast
again., penitent and humble, not knowing
whether she loved or hated, whether she
were alive or dead. John Motram was
thinking 1T all over again as he stood
there facing the blackness with the
thunder of the storm drowning every
sound-he was so deep in thinking he did
not notice the watch set M the LIGHTS
or now strangely those twin lanterns
Ehone on the close wall of drift and snaInne
70 rlgnt and left of the laboring ship
1rostnS the feathered tops Of the hungry
waves that rushed leaping at rhem from
the void beyond with transient brightness
MS eyes We're with is thoughts
mat morning was so clear before him
mat ne started as some salt spray drops
Ieu upon mis- hand, they were so like those
other tears he was thinking of. and as he
crowned at his own weakness, and turned
20 look aside on a watery spume- erected
ridge that rose up and up as though it
would never stop, was a broad outspread
trail OF brown seaweed-undulating silky
soft-heaving with the pent emotion he
low Just as hers had heaved. And IN
above the wind was wailing lust as She
had walled back somewhere in the viii
aage on the coast. Bah! He was a fool
he said to himself, and this was folly.
Tomorrow they might reach a harbor.
and then if he could ind her, and if she
would forgive, and still loved him. but
there was too many ifs for such a night of
turmoil and confusion, so shaking the
water angrily from his coat and making a
way back to his cabin, down decks that
reeled and strained at every buffet of the
waves, he set a double watch in the bows.
and bidding the leadsman get to work. he
began again TO pore over his charts. tell
ing and re-telling each days runs and
waiting eagerly for the first glimpse of
star or haven light that should tell him
which way the gale was taking them.
About S o'clock he went on deck once
more. and as he struggled up the com
paniOn ladder, the wind struck him like