The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1903-07-02

meet or nshlng boats TO their WORK. III
was early on beautiful morning In
July. The fresh morning breeze gently
famed her cheerful countenance. A
heavy fog hid the entire coast from
view. Suddenly a bright ray pierced
the dense fog like the shaft from the
bow of some god. Other rays followed
and soon a flood of light burst through
the fog. Beautiful scarlet streaks,
patches of violet with trembling rose
colored edges. here and there flaming
band of orange yellow, and azure blue
clouds. all combined to make a SYM
phony of colors without comparison.
A breath of wind dissipated the fog
and the sun shone forth in undimin-
ished splendor and sparkled with many
hued colors on the surface of the sea,
which a gentle breeze had set in mo-
ton. Flocks Of noisy sea gulls circled
above the ships, sometimes lowering
over the boats, sometimes skimming
along the surface of the water, their
wings dipping into the spray.
The little bark glided through the
waves with the graceful motion Of
fish 1t seemed as If il were a living
thing. In the southwestern sky bank
Of clouds, resembling red tongues
streaming through the ether, formed
background against which the rocks
Of Forrini stood out prominently.
"See!" exclaimed Zarra to Dalfno,
who together with Ciatte and his son,
Pachios maneuvered the boat, "see,
how small the houses on the shore
seem. They look like Mother Agnese's
Christmas eve cradles"
"Indeed," said Ciatte.
Dalfno paid no attention to this re-
mark, but watched intently the corks
floating on the water. These scarcely
moved. "Indeed. and what fine child
Mother Agnese has" he suddenly re-
marked in a sarcastic tone, regarding
Zarra with a stern look
Zarra met his gaze unmoved, but
secretly felt hurt at his remark,
at may be-" she finally answered,
turning away and watching the sea
gulls circling high above their heads.
"Ah, to be sure! Then the pretty
uniform. too, with yellow stripes and
the hat decked with feather and the
little saber-ah, fine fellow-if--
At this Zarra turned her back COM
pletely and looked longingiy at the op-
posite shore Her heart beat rapid
ly and hair floated in the breeze. San
Francesca, protettore," muttered Dali
fino between his teeth: Turn, Ciatte,
turn"
If Zarra moved he could not restrain
himself from expressing some sarcastic
remark. twisting his blond mustache
between the fingers of his right hand
and placing the left on the hilt of the
sword. She laughed but once she
turned to him.
blood is red" Dalfno remarked
with scowling countenance, as he
walked proudly on the deck of the an
chored boat, his military cap pushed
back on his neck One evening, a lazy
day in July, he was destined to ex-
perience that blood is red. The sun
had now disappeared behind the
clouds and the heat was intense. Like
consuming tongues of flames the hot
seething waves tossed and roared as
they broke upon the rocky coast. Just
opposite the toll house Padrone Car
dillo's boat was anchored.
81 have seen him again, said Dalfiuo
bitterly, as he sat near his boat, which
had been pulled up on shore. HE told
me that he would wait for me some
other time. I am going to him come
what will"
Within him a tempest was raging.
Poor Dalfno! His heart was as broad
as the sea, but as hard as the granite
blocks on the shore.
He stood there mute and listened to
the deafening roar of the sea. Zarra
did not have the courage to say an
other word, but stood motionless as a
statue and looked straight ahead with
vacant stare. "My poor ship" mur-
INJURED Dalfino. stroking with his hand
the blackened planks to which he had
intrusted himself in all kinds of
weather.
In his eyes were large tears. "Adieu,
Zarra. | must CO." he said, pressing n
kiss upon her cheek. Then while this
wild desire was still raging in his
breast, he ran towards the toll house.
Under the tower he met his hated
enemy, whom he attacked like an en-
ragged tiger and plunged the dagger
into his heart before he had time even
10 utter his save Maria" As the peo-
pie came running towards him, he
plunged into the rough sea. Rising and
falling with the surge, he battled with
desperation against the overpowering
waves. Once more he was seen among
the foaming breakers, then disap
peared forever in the depths of the
sea. Mingling with the bowling wind
could be heard the despairing cry OF
Mother Agense.-Chicago Tribune.
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