The Morris County chronicle. [volume] (Morristown, N.J.) 1877-1915, 1902-07-11
clouds will drift away

"Good!" said the Waves, growing
restless and excited. eve are GLAD
to hear, there is chance to have q
little fun. These MINDLESS days and
calm, dull nights are growing mo
notonous. A little storm furry will
brighten us up. Here is a chance
for a shipwreclx somewhere around
| the harbor, now that the wise au'
thorities have changed the lights
and put out the beacon of Rock Point
| lighthouse. We hope the wind will
blow wild and furious"
"You are cruel and merciless. You
wicked old sea; but / suppose you
cannot help it," remarked the Sea-
| bird, looking with disfavor at the
green pillows growing more and
more tumultuous, as they rolled up
and broke into foam running
| through the assures of the rocks and
dashing against their sea-worn sur
| faces, and over the sharp protruding
points, always hidden from view
when the tide is high.
"There comes the storm clouds,
said the Seabird, circling around the
abandoned lighthouse, then dropping
back on the stone, where Yvette
and Hugh Farnley had once sat on
a calm, bright evening in the early
spring, not long ago.
"There's a sailboat coming this
way, steering straight for the light
L ha -
swept hurriedly by.
ga sailboat running out seaward
towards this reef, with such sky
overhead? How ridiculously absurd"
the Waves said gleefully.
"I'll go and see who the mailman
Is. 1t can't possibly be-" The Sea-
bird rose high in air and sped out in
the gathering gloom.
The sail of the small boat cleaned
dazzlingly white against the black
waters as it sped rapidly down the
channel. Reaching the lighthouse, it
veered suddenly and slid up to the
worn stone steps, now half covered
by the rising tide.
Hugh Farnley was familiar with
Che jutting stone which had served
for wharf, and knew where to look
for the iron ring he always fastened
his boat to.
Springing out, he stood and looked
around at the desolate scene, the old
lighthouse, towering black against
the storm-racked sky, from which
no kindly light streamed out over
the troubled waters, while the heavy
door, with its iron bands, which shut
SO securely, keeping light and warmth
within and the wind and salt spume
of the ocean without, yawned open,
creaking on rusty hinges as fitful
gusts blew against it.
Hugh came forward and looked in.
The place was empty, cold and de-
serted, and the only sounds which
came to him were the thunder of the
surf on the rocks, the shrill whistle
of the wind around the lighthouse
and the cry of Seabird circling
around.
1t had been a queer freak on the
part of Hugh Farnley to jump in a
yawlboat and speed across the har-
Dor, to visit once more before going
abroad for an indefinite number of
years the old deserted lighthouse on
Rock Point.
Dismantled of its beacon and left
to the mercy of the storms and tenn
pests, it stood before him desolate
beyond description, as the swift night
fell.
A picture rose before him as he
sat down once on the old stone ledge,
which neither the driving clouds nor
the dashing of the pillows on the
rock could drive away.
Hugh saw room within the heavy
walls, bright with light and warmth
and a glorious presence. A fire
burned on the hearth, an old man sat
beside it, and near him stood in all
her wondrous beauty, Yvette, with
that radiant look he knew so WE'LL
as she turned to welcome him.
Then he saw her standing before
him, as on that last evening, in the
sweet springtime, as he would al
ways see her, just so long as mem
DRY would endure.
The Seabird few close and called
shrilly and warningly.
Did he not see the rising storm
Was he a mailman to sit musing on
that rock, gazing through the half
open door of the lighthouse into the
black and empty rooms? Did he not
know that no one had set foot there
since Ben Ker and Yvette had gone
away? Why linger when the tide
was rising so rapidly, the current
sweeping SO fiercely by and the
breakers beginning to tumble and
fling themselves up against the rocks
with such clamorous glee?
The Seabird swept close to Hugh
and again gave his wild melancholy
cry of warning.
Hugh Farnley stood up, looked once
more at the deserted tower, and
turning, undid the rope from the iror
ring and sprang into his boat
The gale swooned down with sud
den fury and the breakers, in ODE
dience, leaped up and flung them
selves with mad joy against the sunk
en- reef, the rocks on which the light.
house had been built long years ago
| Il. i Il