The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1896-07-03

True, he was not born until wears
after this terrible event. vet the memory
of it had poisoned all of his uotber's
remaining days. Baxter. the. Rucs-
phalus Murderer ne had heard sor,a-
body say in his fathers lifetime. but
until tonight he never knew tn. mean
ing of the words. And here. on tI,.. worry
scene of the horror, the son of its author
was domiciled under the cabin walls
of that long-lost ship. Yonder its fig
urehead Knocked him with staring ewes.
The hull is breaking up" II is no
longer the fisherman's house. but the
cabin of a sinking ship. See how tie
timbers strain and wrench as the keel
pounds on the remorSeless sand: bear
how the waves thunder on tie deck
above, as though to crush the tremblips.
fabric; listen to the creaking of the
overstrained timbersi The water i
slowly rising yonder. where the cabin
floor is lowest. Who are these thai
crowd down the companionway-w
en- scantily clad-terror in their eyes
their hands bleeding. their naked f..t
raw from contact with the cruel roues
One is All aged gentlewoman who lean.
feebly on the shoulders of a Young man
her gray hair streams over her brow.
her dim eyes look with mothers ten
der love on her sons resolute Young
face All these poor creatures an.
chilled with exposure, weak with suf-
fering. Two Of the women lead. an
other carries child. Better TO drown
here" says one, bitterly. than To
freeze TO death on deck" tBaNton does
not hear these words. but he sees the
lips move and knows what they are say
ingD Then the little group huddIeS
close together in the gloom. the mothers
gather their children TO their breasts.
and one, an ancient gentlew oman. prays
silently, as she locks hands with the
stripping. Il pray Thee. Father, If
il be Thy will. take me and spare him"
Now the pale lips OF the yvom-
an are still, her head sinks on her breast
and the son rises with a terrible cry
IBaNton cannot hear that cry. but he
sees the mans awful ewes and knows
what he says). MY mother is dead
Then the waves pound harder on the
deck. the timbers shrink and creak and
groan, the fabric lifts and falls with
dull, terrible thuds-it is high tide
the ship is breaking up Although II
is day, the cabin grows darker and
darker. The water rises higher BaN-
ton must save himself. He staggcrs
across the heaving floor where mother
and son lie dead in each Others arms
reaches the companionway. gains the
deck-and then, before him, over the
shattered bulwarks, to which cliBgs
half hundred miserable, drowning
creatures, looms great towering wall
of green water. Lashed 10 the mizzen
shrouds, the captain, trumpet in hand
sees not the coming aNalanche-his
glance rests only on the face that X
emerging from the companIonway-
BaNton's face Casting off the rope that
holds him to this place of safety, with
livid stare and blazing eye, he points
straight at BaNton-
See, see.'' he cries, 1.-The murderer
BaXton. Curses on you-curses on you
-curses." In a second il was over
The monstrous hill of water. the double
wave that marks the fiood-tide. strikes
the shattered ship a full. fair blow.
mounts as high as the yardarm. clear
over the decks, skaters the weakened
hull to fragments and bears down mast
and bowsprit in one common ruin. amid
an awful grinding and crushing and a
splintering of timbers. Then rises a
great shrek that pierces to heaven over
the tumult OF the sea (Baxton cannot
hear that shrek. but he feels it). fol
lowed by the boiling seethe of waters
and the wave passes on, leaving naught
to tell the fate of the Bucephalus save 4
few scattered spars, few battered
eorpses (ghastly playthings of the tide)
and-that is all.