The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1900-07-18
CHAPTER I.

was much younger than himself, and
his only child Pauline went to the
Vernon plantation house, or Vernon
Place, as it was called ct Bay Saint
Louis, to spend some months. There
were few residents on that wild,
lonely and lovely shore in those days;
for our story begins at the time when
war with England, commonly called
the War of 1872, was at its tigh tide.
Why Mr.. Vernon had sought this
isolation will be disclosed, perhaps,
in due time; at present we must be
content to know him with only such
glimpse of his character and motives
as circumstances permit.
He is a man of giant stature; and
his face, almost covered with grizzly
beard, wears that look of rugged
strength which perfect health often
gives to the countenance Of an aged
man whose life has been spent at sea.
His shoulders are square-set anu
powerful, his head large, shaggy,
ieonine, his arms heavy and muscular.
When he laughs, there is sugges-
tion Of sea.roar in his voice-a mellow
hoarseness not unlike the beating OF
long swells on reef.
His wife is a bright, clear-faced,
volatile creole, just beginning to how
the lines of age in her pretty face,
albeit her hair is almost snow-Whlte::
As for Pauline, she is lovely, girl
to catch the eye and heart OF almost
any man, with her regular features,
her expression of modest simplicity,
lighted up with a charming vivacity,
her plump, supple figure and her
luxuriance OF shining hair.
Here they are, these three, living
for the time life of utter loneliness
in large, rudely built house, IN the
most out-of-the-way nook to be 1ound
on the wild gulf coast.
It was not as strange as 1t seems
romantic, that they were thus lso-
lated; for in those days men ven
tured without fear and risked every
thing without hesitation.
Mr.. Vernon was very rich man,
who, since he abandoned sea-faring
life, had been one OF the chief leaders
of affairs in New Orleans. His busi-
ness relations had been many and
far-reaching. Perhaps he now wished
to get rid of some of them, and had
come to this lonely plantation with
the hope of breaking away from en-
tanglements which had become lrk-
some to him.
A tall, slender, emaciated, but yet
seemingly vigorous old man, one
stormy March night, sought the hos.
pitality of the Vernon household. OF
course, as was the old Southern Gus
tom, they took him in, although his
actions were myterious to the point OF
suggesting o doubt as to his sanity.
He had crossed the bay in little
open boat, which capsized with him
near the shore; and when he entered
the house it was evident that he had
suffered much. Next morning he was
ill, and for many days he seemed at
ut the point of death.
In this extremity, he confded his
fife. secret to Mr.. Vernon. Simply
told it was this: His orphan grand
daughter, a sweet and beautiful girl,
while yet scarcely more than a mere
child, had been Influenced by dar-
ing young scapegrace to elope with
him and become his wife. This was
in Scotland. The old man, who gave
his name as Max Burns, did not dis
close the name OF his rand-daushter's s
abductor. Perhaps he had good rea-
sons for keeping it 4 secret; but he
went on to tell touching and almost
incredible story Of how he had spent
many years and large fortune in try
ing to find and in some way take back
his wandering grandchild Margaret.
The young man, Immediately after
marrying the girl, took her to Italy,
where he became a robber. The
grandfather followed him, only to find
that he had fled to Spain. There, too,
lie was an outlaw; and after some
years of picturesque and terrible ad-
venture, he was so closely pushed by
the authorities that he LETT the coun-
try and was next heard Of in San Do
mingo. From there, at length, he
came to New Orleans.
All this time Max Burns, who was a
Presbyterian preacher, had followed
him as best he could, making every
effort that money and tireless energy
could sustain to capture the man and
regain Margaret. =.
And now, almost penniless, his for:
tune dissipated in his vain endeavors,
his health badly broken and with old
age gripping his vitals, he was once
more close upon the object of his long
and apparently hopeless quest.
"And so" he went on in feeble,
painting tone, ''just as 1 can almost
reach him 1t seems that I must die.
Oh, Margaret, Margaret" and he lay
gazing at the ceiling as if in prayer.
The story was so strange that, told
under the peculiar and pathetic cir
cumstances, it filled the hearts OF the
Vernon household with ine1presslble
sadness. ... .'
No one hearing the old man speak
could doubt the truth of what he said
there was the unmistakabfe stamp oi
sincerity and deep, absolutely poig.
nant feeling on every word as it came
from his feeble lips.
But contrary to every probability,
Burns got well and departed as mys'
teriously as lie came, going off on foot
in the direction of the Pearl River and