Smyrna times., 1900-04-04

her. In vain she struggled to remem-
Der the truth and patience and strength
of her betrOthed. He was too we'll
known to her to be seen through a
glamour. With austere serenity he in
sisted upon an early marriage day. He
refused apparently to feel any jeal-
ousy at the constant companionship of
his sweetheart and Cecil Underwood.
And Barbara was angry at him for
this too.
HE has no sensibility." she said to
herself
One wild day when the wind cried
through the tree tops and the waters
lashed along as if in stress of pain
Cecil Underwood came to her in an i'm
perative mood.
"You must come walking with me-"
he said. THE day expresses me.
have to speak of the torment of my
heart. and | will keep still no longer
even at your bidding"
Barbara went out with him. They
walked under the pines, whose roar
filled the world with their lamentings.
They were silent, conscious of the
storm within their souls.
LET us take a boat" said Barbara
when they had reached the river.
mo, no." he protested, but she SEEM
ed not to hear him and united her skiff
and leaped into it.
Come" she said. He hesitated, but
followed. AS the little boat felt the
lift of the waves the pain in her heart
seemed to tighten, and she let the cur
rent carry her along, unconscious of
the passage of time. Suddenly Cecil
cried out:
"The rapids, Barbara! The rapids!
See where you have taken us!' She
glanced behind her. 1t was true that
the tossing white name of the water
horses was not more than half mile
away, and the boat was Quivering in
the pull of their great power. Barbara
smiled little. 1t would not matter to
her so much, she reflected if her great
problem were to be solved that way.
But, still, it was cOwardly to die. She
set her fine young strength to a resist
ance, rowing up stream and inclining
the boat toward the southern shore.
So absorbed was she in this task that
she did not notice the man with her till
she heard him crying, with wild in-
| portunities tC his Maker:
'ROw, Barbara, row! Row, girl!'
Then, looking at him, she saw his face
was corpse white and quivering with
fear and the next moment he sank, an
inert heap, at the bottom of the boat.
Get up," she commanded "and take
the tiller! Get up instantly He
obeyed dimly, shaking and sick with
terror.
Barbara bent to her heavy task and
made by means of brave efforts a lit
tie headway. But the wild horses
plunged ON and dragged her at theil
heels She was almost ON the verge Of
yielding to their relentless strength
when a boat shot out from the bank
1t came toward her quaking skiff witt
magnificent momentum. Barbara rec
ognized the occupant at once. 1t was
George Caxton. A hideous humiliation
filed her soul She was almost tempt
ed to yield to that tugging of the wil(
horses. She looked at the half faint
ing, praying creature beside her anC
then at the approaching man. And {
moment of Gethsemane came to her
Then, white and courageous, she re
newed her efforts. A moment later d;
line was thrown to her. She made i
secure. Then she in her boat anC
George Caxton in his began a struggl,
against the powers of the river, il
which they soon conquered.
George helped the trembling Cecil t,
shore, but Barbara leaped lightly t,
land and stood there smiling strangely
II am thankful with a great thank
fulness that | owe my life to you
George" she said. 1T is privilege"
She held out her hand to the othe
man.
"GoOdby," she whispered.
PITY me! Pity me!' he cried.
II do" she responded. "Goodby."
He went slowly under the pines
walking feebly like a man who is oil
and i'll. George looked after him wit
cOmmiserating eyes. but Barbara wa
relentless.
"Give me your arm" she said. wit
tender graciousness. I'VE will wal
home together. George. e."-Chicago Trit
, une.