The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1899-07-12

that poor old father, who had sent me
across the sea with his blessing, to
find and return his darling daughter.
And now she was dead and was lost.
I fancied saw Langston again at the
Golden Gate Club, the hero OF circle
of admirers, telling over and over
again the story of our journey and its
results. I could even hear, in my
mind, a few regretful remarks over
my own untimely death. And I could
see my empty chair in the whist-room.
I had not spent much time in my
musing before my companion reap
peared. She carried before her a
small tray, from which came the
appetizing fragrance of good coffee.
"Here you are, Captain Crickpore,"
she said smilingly. She placed a
chair near me and set the tray upon
it. There were displayed temptingly
before me a bowl of coffee, broiled
pheasant, some rice-cakes and some
fruit"
"Ah, Miss Arnold" I said, "that
is indeed tempting! But are you not
going to eat, too?"
."Oh, yes, but I couldn't carry up so
much at one time. I will be back
soon."
In short time I was enjoying my
supper as thoroughly as if it was
being eaten in the Golden Gate Club,
instead of in the China Sea.
"Wasn't it strange chance that
threw me in the way Of saving you,
to be saved by you in return?" I
said, pulling a pheasant apart. II
shall feel ever grateful to Mr.. Gam
box Smell for the part he played in
throwing me overheard, I mean."
"But you threw him overheard, in
stead OF thanking him. That was not
gratitude" she replied.
"Btt that was necessary to our
safety. The man was scoundrel and
deserved what he got. That I found
life, instead of death, was not his
fault"
In this way we continued our meal
on deck, and when it was over, Miss
Arnold gathered up the choice crock
cry of Cha Fong, and disappeared with
it below.
"Don't be long," I said. 'It is
going to be lovely evening. Let US
enjoy it, with no thought Of danger.
We can forget under these lovely
southern skies"
What a night that was in my life!
The little yacht sped through the
water as evenly and calmly as though
tried hand WIS on the tiller. The
air was balmy and sweet. Just enough
breeze was blowing to give the yacht
good headway. The ripping water
bubbled and gurgled along the sides,
as she cut through the tiny waves.
The influence of the night was mel
lowing.
We sat there in the bright starlight
and talked. Long, long, we sat there.
The darkness of the night increased
the brightness of the stars. Brilliant
planets, that had at first been low on
the horizon, were now high above US.
looked at the watch I had taken
from Cha Fopg. It was midnight.
"Do you know that it is twelve
o'clock?" I asked Miss Arnold.
midnight! Is it possible! How
quickly the hours have fed! I did
not suppose it was later than ten. And
no land in sight yet"
There was o tremor Of disappoint-
ment in her voice.
"No, no land yet. But we will
reach land tomorrow. Don't worry.
You must rest. You certainly must be
weary"
eyes. T am somewhat sleepy.
But you cannot remain here alone.
Can 1 not relieve you and let you get
some rest?"
"No. You must go below and re-
tire. I shall be all right here. The
night is calm. The yacht needs very
little attention. I can fasten the tiller
and catch a wink now and then.
Aud tomorrow you relieve me, and I
will rest"
"Well, if you wish it so," she said.
"Good night"
When she had gone, I had nothing
to keep me awake, and I was much
fatigued.
got very drowsy. Everything was
calm and peaceful. I set the tiller,
and, making a pillow of cushion, lay
down to rest.
I soon fell asleep. I slept sound
ly. I needed it. The past excite
ment and my wound had told on my
strength. Only sleep could drestore it.
It was probably one o'clock when I
fell asleep.
[To BE CONTINUED.
Private Butter.