The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1903-12-17
OF FLOOD AND FIRE

tempeSt was thrown helpless and at
the mercy OF wind and wave into the
trough of the sea by the breaking of a
part of the machinery, and it was
feared by the panicstricken pas.
Bengers-and with just reason-that
the hour of doom approached They
crowded the deck and impeded the
action Of the crew. They screamed
and sobbed and prayed. One man
who stood apart from the others
prayed silently with hopeless agony
on his face. A friend with him touch
cd him on the shoulder.
'Cheer up, Edgar we are not lost
yet (he had sudden contempt for
the cowardice Of the occasion), "at
least let us die-if die we must-like
men"
ut is not for myself ! fear, Walter,
but for Miriam; she Is so sensitive,
90 loyal to those she loves; it would
break her heart to have her lover
drowned like this on the eve of her
wedding. She could never outlive
such tragedy"
''She would not be the only one
left to suffer. II we go down all
these others perish with us. Think
you, they will leave none to mourn
their lossT his friend, Walter Dick
son, responded.
Theirs are not parallel cases. Mi
riam will be widow, yet no wife. 1t
will be cruel disappointment of her
plans for our happy lives. Walter, if
you alone are saved tell her that she
must learn to forget me. Her sweet
young life must not be darkened by
unhappy memories. Promise me-"
Something like sneer distorted
Walter Dickson's face; he said with
bitter emphasis:
you have been blind, Edgar, blind
as a mole With eternity in view l
must tell you the truth. Come below
with me. II we are to die in this
storm | shall ease your soul OF its last
fear. If we live you can prove the
truth of my words
He led his dazed and distracted
friend through the tempest and con-
fusion, dragging him by main force
to the uncertain shelter of the desert
ed cabin, and God alone knows
whether his motive was that of a sin
cere friend or the madness and tri-
umph of a sinister nature. But what
he told had at least the awful merit
Of truth
On the same night on which the
steamer with her precious human
freight was tempest-tosed in the mid
night blackness of the lake. young
woman was walking the floor of her
room, wringing her hands in impo-
tent anguish, as she listened to the
storm without. Her face was pale
and worn, her eyes glittered with
feversh excitement. Every muscle
was tense, and at last the strain be-
came unbearable, and she rushed
from her own room and sought that Of
an older sister, who was sleeping
calmly and profoundly
Margaret" she called, and shook
the sleeper lightly.
Miriam! What is it? Not time to
rise, surely? Have you not slept?"
mo, no, how could l? DO you not
hear the storm? 1t is awful / can
not sleep"
The elder sister sat up and scanned
the white face bending over her.
You have not slept, and tomorrow
is your wedding day. Miriam, you
will look like a ghost"
"Do you hear the storm?" cried Mi
riam wlSy. IF it RACES so on land
how much worse it must be on the
water, and Edgar is crossing tonight
in the face of this storm"
Miriam" said Margaret, gently,
"kneel here and let us say a prayer"
81 have been praying-prayed every
minute this night. | hope God will
hear me and send the boat on which
Edgar is coming to the bottom of the
lakew
Miriam Sister, you are crazed.
Do you know what you are saying?
That you are asking God to destroy
the boat that is bringing your lover
70 yOu?"
Eyes, yes-that is what / mean. I
would be glad if they came and told
me that he had gone down, and l was
'ree-free-free!"
Her voice rose to a patetc Shrek
that blended with the wailing wind
md died out in moan.
'Then it is true-I did not, would
Tot, believe it, You did not love Ed
car Ryerson, and you do love his
friend, Walter Dickson?"
But Miriam turned away. "Sleep
again, sister, am sorry | disturbed
you. My wedding day is dawning.
and we shall soon know whether God
aas answered my prayer"
brief line in the morning paper
told the story. The boat had gone
down in midlake with all on board. !
Years had passed. Margaret had !
married a wealthy suitor, and Miri- !
I'm spent part of her time with her, a
lale, silent girl, absolutely devoid of |
interest in life. For whom was she !
Mourning? She declared that it was