The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1899-08-18

house it was to sit outside with tn,
father, smoking in black silence
while the schoolmaster read or talked
to the girl.
Paul was a man of few words, bu
his heart was brave. Therefore be
went down one day to the cottage. i
was nearly completed and he looked
it over grimly. Then he addressed
the carpenter, who had sauntered up
"Guess you needn't finish this yel
shack jest yet, Sam. Mebbe / won'l
want it SO soon, after ALL"
whats up now?' asked Sam, who
was also fisherman and had rejoiced
in Paul's good luck.
"Wal, I'm agoin' to take the
schooner out Boston way, n try fer a
cargo this winter. An l guess you
can leave the house wait a bit now
The other man started, but Pau
turned away, walked slowly toward
the village; and the cottage was left
to the sun by day and the moon by
night and always to the moaning
| wind.
This year drew on to autumn and the
school was in full swing. Paul never
went to the big house; he was fitting
out the schooner for the winter. In
the intervals of work he sought the
bluff at the harbor mouth that watch
ed the troubled waters round the
Bull. kinder cranky" said the
village fishermen. Once he saw in
the distance the schoolmaster ap-
preaching with the girl. After that
he went there no more.
1t was a week later that the first of
the autumn gales swept in from the
| Atlantic. Now, on the DAY that the
storm was get ing up to seward Paul
Fralic went to his schooner early in
the morning to prepare for start
| when the weather moderated. Gray
was the sky in the citing, with patches
| of flying cloud-rsck, while the ground
swell grumbled all along the coast,
sending great smooth waves. to rock
the vessels anchored at Tenants.
There was no cause whatever for
any one to leave the harbor; yet, as
day prighted over the water, Paul
saw a small rowboat put out from one
of the wharves and head for the open
sea. He looked at it curiously, know
ing that all the fishermen were busy
on shipboard and that none of them
had any business at the harbor mouth
in the face of big storm.
The boat-a light thing with a sim
gle occupant-kept we'll under the
shore and it was with difficulty that
Paul recognized the tall, slim figure
of the oarsman. When he did, three
things came 10 his remembrance; that
old John Shea had treated the school
master with oaths and contumely and
finally had fatty refused him as a
son-in law; that it was only six miles
coastwise to the next village where
the railroad ran to the city; and. last
ly, that the youth himself was hot
headed and impulsive. Also. there
was hidden path by which any one
even a girl-could go from the big
house to the shore outside the village
To these thoughts seems to have
succeeded very logical conclusion.
Paul's reasoning may have been
primitive, but duty lay upon him.
He cherished no illusion in his heart;
what he did know was the impos-
sibility of any rover reachii g the
next village before the storm smashed
him against the granite cliffs. There
fore said rover must be brought back
and his companion likewise. AS the
strange craft rounded the lighthouse
point Paul jumped into the boat lying
astern of his schooner.
Coin out ter the light" he ex-
planned to the heads that looked over
from above. keep to work on them
sails.''
At the harbor mouth he rested on
his oar. for a moment and gazed along
the coast. The surf was leaping full
thirty feet up the face of the grim
rock wall. The Bull was smother of
seething foam and its voice came
deep and hollow. Paul took this in
at a glance. But his keen eye caught
something more. In the distance,
over-near the surf, was a boat with
two occupants.
He overlook them, it is said, two
miles down the coast. In shore the
heights were already swathed i'll fog
and the furious breakers forbade any
landing. By mighty effort he put be-
hind him the impulse to settle forever
the claims of his rival, there in the
lonely sea-perhaps the white, beauti-
full face of the girl stayed his hand.
Ranging alongside without a word,
he tossed his oars into the other boat
and then stepped in himself, spurning
his own way with a shove of his foot.
The same instant a sudden lurch
threw him heavily across the forward
seat with his right arm doubled under
h IN. He sprang up, ignoring fierce
pain in his wrist, and shouting, Now
pull fer yer life!" headed the boat for
Tenants.
Look tharr' he cried again. IAN
pull"
They were within fifty yards of the
shore and driving nearer on the lift of
every wave. Even as they looked,
the other boat, which had drifted in
more rapidly, rolled over and melted
away on the rocks.
The skiff, lighter than the workaday
flats of the fishermen, sheared fast
through the water. But the sky grew
always darker, and when they had
covered half the return furry OF
snow came over the water.
BY this time Paul's right wrist was
nearly useless. He pulled bitterly, but
was losing his grip on the panhandle.
Still he struggled ON, in spite of pain
that increased to agony; and now they
were-how slowly!-passing between
The Bull and the entrance to Ten
nant's, the boat half full of water.
powerless. HIS glanced toward the
QUILL vi bAO OOociAlG Vi e@h vs. ooo SAS 6iAA
had tainted from cold or terror.
"Sayr' he cried, fiercely. You can
git shore from here-that's eff you
amt got my dead weight in the boat.
My wrists gone. / amt no good no
more. I'll swim. Git that gal ashore
safe--m
With snarling oath, Paul Fralic
struck the other man across his half
turned face and leaped into the sea.
The currents at the harbor mouth
were setting strongly on The Bull
they say who tell the story-and it
was an hour before the boat made
shelter, its occupants sleet-shrouded
and nearly dead.
But Paul Fralic did not reach the
shore, alive or dead; and none never
knew what become of him, for The
Bull claims its own and guards its
secret well.-Ihe Independent.
WHY?
The peculiar simplicity of the
Erapoh noosont 10 illustrato6 nv fUn