Valentine Democrat. (Valentine, Neb.) 1900-1930, 1900-09-27
SYNOPSIS

Rochs. j@rEcnSen was the only oauBHlet
| Of the governor of Iceland. She fell In
| .cve 9nf :.arried an idler, stephen Orry;
| Her f1ins! had other hopes for her, ana
In his u:'Esr he disowned her. Orry ran
| away To .t@:I. OF this union a child was
| born ard Hachel called hin Jason. Ste
| phen Cfry was heard from i'll the Isle OF
| Mar. W:src ne was again married ana
another saii was born. Rachel died a
lea:;-is',lsn woman, hut told Jason Oh
his fa'I4.'s acts. Jason Swore to XIII
| him. an'i IL not him, then his SON. In the
nlednIilno 0rry had deserted his snip ana
sought refuge in the Isle CT Man. he
| was sheltered by the governor of the
| island, Adam Fairbrothpr. Orry went
:rnn bad 10 worse and married dissoiute
woman. and their child. called Michael
Sunlccks, Was born. The woman died and
O:fy gave SGiilocks to Adam Fairbrotner,
| who dd"i'Iel him. and he became the
klaEmats Of the governors daughter.
GreebG. Time passed and Adam Fair
brother onf wife became estranged, their
five hoys staying with their mother on
account OF Michael Sunlocks. Finally Ste
phen Orry returned and Michael Sunlocks
determined to go to Iceland, his father s
home. His father confessed all to him,
and Michael promised to find Rachel II
possible and care for her, and, If dead, to
find her child and treat him as a brother.
How long he sat there he did not
know; he was thinking of his past, Of
his bad life in Iceland, and his long
expiation in the Isle Of Man. In the
multitude of his sensations it seemed
impossible to his dazed mind to know
which of these two had been the forst,
or the most foolish. Together they had
left him a wreck. In the one he had
thrown away the wife who loved him,
in the other he had given UP the son
whom he loved. What was left to him?
Nothing. He was waif, despised and
downtrodden. He thought of what
might have happened to him if the
chances Of life had been different, and
IN that first hour of his last bereave-
ment all the softening influence of
nineteen years, the uplooking and up
working, and the struggle towards his
atonement, were as much gone from
him as if they had never been. Then
he thought of the money, and told
himself that it was not now that he had
lost his son for the first time; he had
lost him fourteen years ago, when he
parted with him to the governor. Since
then their relations had bee reversed.
His little Sunlocks was his little Sun
locks no longer. He felt Inundated, he
felt hardened, and by strange inn
pulse, whereof he understood but little
he cursed in his heart his sufferings
more than his sins. They had been
useless, they had been wasted, and he
had been a fool not to live for himself.
But in that moment, when the devil
seemed to make havoc Of good and evil
together, God himself was doing moth
ing.
Stephen Orry was drifting with the
tide, when all at once he became con-
scious of the tapping of the water on
stones near at hand, and of a bright
light shed over the sea. Then he saw
that he had drifted close to low ground
off the Point of Ayre. He bore hard
aport and beat out to sea again. Very
soon the white water way was behind
him; nothing was visible save the dark
hull of the vessel going off towards
the north, and nothing audible save the
cry Of few gulls that were fishing by
the light of the flare. 1t had been the
work Of three minutes only, but in that
time one vivid impression had fixed it
self on Stephens preoccupied mind.
The end of the old sandstone pier had
been battered down by recent storm;
the box that once held the light had
gone down with it, a pole had been
thrust out at an angle from the over
thrown stones, and from the end of this
hIr
idea connected itself with this impress
sion. which lay low down behind other
thoughts.
The fog had lifted, but the night was
still very dark. Not star was shin
ing and no moon appeared. Yet Ste
phen's eye-the eye of sailor accus-
toned to the darkness of the sea at
night-couId descry something that lay
to the north. The Irish brig had dis
apueared. Yes, her sails were now
GONE Rut out at sea-far out, half a
league away-what black thing was
there? Oh, it must be cloud, that
was all; and no doubt storm was
brewing. Yet no, it was looming LANCER
and larger, and coming nearer and
nearer. 1t was a sail Stephen could
see it plainly enough now against the
leaden sky. 1t was schooner; he
could make out it's two masts, with fore
and aft sails. 1t was an Irish schooner;
he could recognize its heavy hull and
followed cutwater. 1t was taking
against wind and tide from the north
east: it was a Dublin schooner and was
homeward bound from Iceland, having
called at Whitehaven and now putting
in at Ramsey.
Stephen Orry had been in the act OF
putting about when this object caught
his eve. but now a strange thing oc-
Cured. All at once his late troubles
Law back in his mind, and by a sort OF
unconscious mechanical habit of intel
1ect he began to put familiar ideas to-
eether. This schooner that was coming
from Iceland would be heavy laden; it
would have whalebone, and elder down,
and taIloW. If it ran ashore and was
wrecked some of this cargo might be
taken by some one and sold for some
thing to a French smuggler that lay
outside the Chicken Rocks. That flare
on the Point of Ayre was the only sea-
light on this north coast of the island,
:. I-r ~, n ropo from mole The