The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1902-04-23

never come into Portknockie again.
Oh, my son, my bonnie man. that /
hae handled on my kneel"
She was an old woman, upon whose
face many sorrows had set their SEAL
Have you ever looked at the faces
of seafaring folk who live close to
the great deep, and whose lives depend
on its mercy from the cradle to the
grave? II you have, you do not need
me to tell you of the pathos, the
patient, hungry, waiting look. which
speaks of hearts not stayed intrust.
but rather prepared for the worst, even
the greatest tragedy of all.
1t was an October night on the shores
Of the North Sea. The sun had gone
down in red wrath, leaving a long
yellow glare on the horizon, which the
inky blackness of the storm speedily
swept into the sea. 1t was hard to
say which month of the year gave the
stormiest record; but perhaps IL you
had asked the weather-wise, they
would have said that the gale to be
dreaded above all others on that trea-
cherous coast was the gale of the Equi-
nox in the late autumn. II was wild,
magnificent, awful coast, with many
beautiful but few kindly spots. The
cliffs rose sheer from the stony
beaches, and were torn by great gullies
and wonderful caves, which people
came from distant parts to see
when the weather was fine and there
was nothing to frighten or frown at
them.
Here and there in the clefts of the
rocks handful of red roofs or a little
spire proclaimed the habitations of
those who go down to the sea in ships.
Here, too, there would be strip of
shingly beach, and a natural harbor,
affording even at the best of times
precarious shelter. And here they
lived and moved and had their being,
wept and loved and suffered, those
who strove to wrest scanty living
from the great deep.
On that wild night two women stood
by an open cottage door, with shawls
tied about their heads, their strained
eyes peering out into the blackness
rushing wind and the boom of the sea
against the rocks where the salt spray
dashed into the air made 1t difficult
for them to hear one another's voices.
which were shrill and high and
striking the note of pain.
''Dinna say that, auntie," said the
girl, and shivered as another great bill
| low broke in thunder on the shore.
GO back into the house, and will
run to the harbor and hear il there's
any news
She put her arm about the elder
woman's figure. and gently pushed her
back into the house. She did not de-
feted her; she was no longer able to
face and fight It, So she crept back
| to the desolate hearth, and sat down
| by the red embers to watch and pray
The girl closed the door, wrapped her
shawl more closely about her, and
turned to face the blast. 1t was only
few steps to the harbor mouth, but
more than once she wavered, feeling
as II the next gust must sweep hel
into the sea.
| A group of women, a few old men
and a handful of children crouchine
at their mothers skirts were huddled
under the frail shelter of the harboi
wall. There is untold pathos always
about the watchers when there Is peri
on the sea; the women and children
and the old men, who wait at home
for the safe return of the ebread-winners
The harbor lights cleaned fitfully upor
anxious faces and appealing eyes turn
ed, ever turned, to the angry sea
Scarce word was spoken, and wher
Annie Doom Joined them she became
part of the silence. They fell apar
little to let her into the circle, ant
one of the women laid kindly hant
on her shoulder. For they knew tina
she feared for the man she loved, tn,
stalwart skipper of the Bonnie Ann.
There's little use to stand here, nee
bors," said one of the old men a
length. Until the wind fa's the opeI
seas their safest bit"
But auntie saw the Bonnie Ann of
the Beacon, Davie Duffus," said thu
girl feverishly; "just on the back q
six o'clock"
"She dreamed 1t. lassie. Franei
Scott wad never come near the Beacol
in nor'-easter like this. that is, un
less he took leave O. his seevin senses
which is not likely"
But think saw her mysel', Davie
when the moon arose afore the rail
came on. And whaur can she b
now?"
"On the Beacon" he answered grim
ly. "Uuless he made for Portlnocki
harbor. Wheessht! What's that?"
Through the boom of the storr
came the distant clangor of bell.
TITS the bell of Portknockie! She
on the Beacon" said the girl, in low
anguished voice. and her fingers work
ed convulsively with the fringes of he
shawl.
Then there may be chance. TIL
coast-guard's DOT afore the bell rings
Lord help them al" said the old mar
and the crowd began to separate, a