Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1899-03-23
THE BOATSWAIN.

summer $ eve, but in winter storm moro
terrible than death itself. TO the cast tho
coast rises in cliffs, and on the slope of tho
first can just he seen the cottages of Pen
march. Away inland lies Gllcstpnc, hid
den among trees
| But here oil around, are dismal flats
| broken now and again by rough sand
dunes covered with long, coarse spear
grass, the only thing which can live under
| the breath OF 81 winter gale Beyond tho
flats stretches a broad beach of limestone
pebbles. Again, beyond this lie rugged,
fiat lodges of rock, which only show when
! tho tide rccedcs, and which spread sea
ward half mile.
| On all this wide, wild cxpansc stood hut
one little hut, "a thing that had once been
| "a ships roundhousc Some Of the ships
timbcrs lay about oven yet, but this was
the only part of her which stood intact
London Toms house" said my friend
| the rector.
"A man lives there" cried | in aston
| ishmcnt.
| "Hc did till n few years aCo--a strange
| old man, full of the ancient supCrStitions,
if they are supcrstitions, and - wild Meth
odist. In my clerical capacity | was in
| his eyes tainted with the mark of the
| beast, but as u companion he received me,
and l often brought him II little flask Of
| brandy or some small comfort. Ho was
past so when he died"
| But what place for u man to settle
| down inr' | said.
"Ncs: perhaps so. But he had his own
wild reasons. Let me tell you tho story
here now with the very place before your
eyes. Your sea knowledge will make you
| able to picture the scene and the old man )
| tremendous exit l saw all myself, and
| even now it awes me to think Of it or tell it.
sit was in 1913, when, as if we had not
enough TO do with European affairs, we
must fight the American states. My old
| father, rector here before me, had lately
| sent me up to jesus college, and | was
homo for Christmas. What wild place
| Oxford was in those days-drinking,
town and gown riots, badger batting,
cockhghting, But never mind that.
I'VE were so used to bowling storms
that unless one Of our smuggling luggers
wcro expected we seldom took note of
weather, but sat snug and let it howl.
! Wrecks wcro rare, but when they did oc-
| cur there was always good chance of plum
| der, and our coast men Were always on
the lookout on such nights. This night it
was roaring in the chinnCys, and the
channel drizzle was driving up thick as q
hedge
Father and l sat over our mulled port.
! l heard q shout, then voices calling, then
u hurried tramp of footsteps and a loud
| rapping at the door, and then, before
could jump up to see who it was, for tho
maid was abed. in the fellow rushed. l
met him in the hall 1t was old Hoel our
man of all work.
"Mastor Richard he Gasped Ticking
the wet from his eyes, ship ashore, sir !
| Right on Breaksea point, and it's dead
low water!'
II was ready in a moment. We quickly
| felt our way down tho dark, narrow lano
and came out just where we stand 1t
was full moon, and she was rising.
"Thcrc was little crowd looking sea-
ward, and soon in the growing light si,w
away beyond the beach, past the long
stony reef, out in tho roaring breakers, "A
dark patch. Even as | looked came u
sharp tongue of fame then the dull thud
of their guns report.
"No help could reach them out there
Half mile of raging hell of broken
surf divided them from land. We could
only stand and look, hazarding opinions
as to what sho might be.
| Il heard one ranting smuggler, John
| Morgans, shout in his fellow ear: She
will be ship-o'-war, yiss, suro Wass be-
| cause of her tall SparS, look you. y
| Any one of usage, even the most cal
| lous wrecker thcre-wOuld have risked his
life for them joyfully had it been possible.
But there was no risk--any attempt would
| have been instant death, for the incoming
tide, crawling and numbering along tho
reef, would have dashed any man to pulp
| had he vcnturcd there. In half an hour,
if she drove farther up, we might possibly
do something. But would she last? There
was little hope of it.
AS ! stood there with Hoel, staring
| full face out into the lashing rain and
| spray, l suddenly heard bugle call. In
the lull Of the gale out rang the "as>em-
| bly," The last tara" swept by like the
wall Of fleeing spirit, Hardly had it
| ended when wicked squall drove up.
When it had passed, when again the
| moon pcercd through the flying rack, the
dark patch, which WAS u ship, had all but
disappeared in the roaring breakers. And
as l still stared seward came IA huge,
white wall of foam. 1t struck her en-
quilted her, and when it swept by she was
gone!
In rushed the tide. Many standing
there still hoped that some Of the poor fcl
lows might yet win to land alive. None
| of us thought of going home, for even if
no men reached the shore salvage might
| sweep in.
"Surc enough, presently came a dark
object through the wLito waste of foam.
1t drove in slowly, now standing stations
| AIRY moment as it caught some stone in
| the reef, now surging inward, and ever
| swept by the fierce waves. AT last it drove
right up to the beach, and we all rushed
down.
ut was a hugo fragment Of the deck,
with this roundhouse attached and cling
carried a child in his arms. We had them
up to tho village, the man who held the
child coming to my share.
ERE we got him to the house he went
faint and had to be carried. / took tho
child, who seemed to be n boy of about 10
years. The other was a smart looking fell
low, with shayen face set in fringe of
black whisker, and with his hair tied In
cue, "a fashion which had nearly died out.
Round his neck, on silver chain, hung
q boatswain's whistle.
1--WE put them both to bed. Presently,
| under the influence of warm blankets and
hot brandy forced between his clinchcd
teeth, tho man showed signs of recovery.
| And suddenly he started up, shouting:
| Here, sir! Aye, aye, STRIP
Il did not dream that these were the
last words of sanity he would speak And
yeti don't know-the space between
| tn,,it aY,lt i- al hat h,,t