The daily morning journal and courier. [volume] (New Haven, Conn.) 1894-1907, 1899-10-31

| Leopold he was named.
| Mrs Garstin was buxom, unimagni-
alive woman, but she shared to the full
her husbands horror of the sea. She
told me of nights when she lay alone
| listening to the moan of the wind over
head, and seeing the column of the
Bishop rock upon its base, and of morn
| ings when she climbed from the shell
'ered barracks up the gorse, with her
heart Juggling in her breast, certain, GER
tain that this morning, at last. there
would be no Bishop lighthouse visible
from the top of the garrison.
1T seems sort OF insult to the works
of God" said she, in a hushed voice.
TT seems as If 1t stood up there In Gods
face and cried, You can't hurt mel!
Yes, most presumptious and pro-
voking," said Garstln. And so they
fell to talking of the boy, who, at all
events, should fulfil his destiny very
far inland from the sea. Mrs, Garstin
leaned to the linen drapery; Garstin
inclined to the free library.
''Well. will come down to the North
Foreland," said I, land you shall tell
ME which way it is"
Yes, If" repeated Garstln, and
stopped.
Yes, If" repeated his wife. with
nod of the head.
'Oh: Il won't go this winter" said l.
And It didn't. But on the other hand,
Garstin did not so to the North Fore
land, nor for two years did l hear any
more q him. But two years later
returned to ST. Mary's, and walked
tha rnnIs of 40 al nd IN the lit-
tie graveyard by the sea. A new tab
let upon the outer wall Of the church
caught and held my eye. / read the
inscription and remained incredulous.
For the Bishop still stood. But the let
tiers We're there engraved upon the
plate, and as read them again the flu
tility of Garstin,s fears was enforced
upon me with singular pathos.
For the Bishop still stood. and Cars
tin had died on the Christmas eve of
that last year which he was to spend
upon rock lighthouses. Of how he died
the tablet gave hint, but no more
than hint. There were four words in
scribed underneath his name:
And he was not"
I walked back to Hugh Town, Won
dering at the tragedy which those four
words half hid and half revealed, and
remembering that the tide runs seven
miles an hour past the Bishop, with
many eddies and whirlpoos. Almost
unconsciously l went up the hill above
Huge Town, and came to the signal
station on the top of the garrison. And
so occupied was l with my recollections
of Garstin that it did not strike, me as
strange that l should find Mrs. Garstn
standing now where he had stood, and
looking out to the Bishop as he was
used to look. I..,.
IT had not heard" | said to her.
MOP" she returned simply, and
again turned her eyes seward. 1t was
late on midsummer afternoon. The
sun hung foot or so above the water,
a huge ball of dull red fire, and from
ST. Marys out to the horizons rim the,
sea stretched ripping lagoon of the
color of claret. Over the whole expanse
there was but one boat visible, lugger,
between Samson and st. Agnes, beating
homeward against light wind
''It was storm, l suppose" said 1.
"A storm out of the west?"
"No. There was no wind, but-there
was haze, and 1t was. growing dark
Mrs. Garston spoke in peculiar tone of
resignation, with yearning glance to- N
ward the Bishop as | thought, toward 4
the lugger as know. But even then L
was sure that those last words, There
was a haze, and it was growing dark,
concealed the heart of her distress. She
explained the inscription upon the tab
let, while the lugger tackled toward st.
Mary's, and while I gradually began to
wonder what still kept her on the island.
At four o'clock on the afternoon of
that Christmas eve the lighthouse ON
St. Agnes island showed its lamps; five
minutes later the red beams struck out
from Round island to the north; but to
the west on the Bishop all was dark.
The haze thckened and night came on;
still there was no flash from the Bishop, |
and the islands wondered. Half an
hour passed; there was still darkness In
the west, and the islands became
alarmed. The Trinity brethren sibsi-
die St. Agnes lugger to serve the |
Bishop. and this boat was got ready |
AT quarter to five suddenly the Bishop |
light shot through the gloom but inn
afterward a shutter was in |
terposed quickly some half dozen !
times. 1t WIS the signal Of distress and |
the lugger worked out to the Bishop
with the tide. or the three Keepers |
there were now only two.
1t appeared from their account that
Garstin took the middle day watch. that
they themselves were asleep and that
Garstn should have reused them to
light the lamps at a quarter to four.
They woke of their own accord In the
dark, and at once believed they had I
slept into the night. The clock showed
them It was halfpast four They
to the lantern room, and no.
where was there any sign of Garstn.
They lit the lamps. The first thing
they saw was the log. 1t was open, and
the last entry was written in Garstin's
hand and was timed $40 p. m. 1t men
toned a ketch reaching northward
The two men descended the winding
stairs, and the cold air breathed upon
their faces. The brass door al the foot
Of the stairs stood open, From that
door thirty feet of gun metal rungs let
INTO the outside of the lighthouse lead
1own to the setoff, which is a granite
i'm less than yard wide and unpro-
h,, ,,il