Waterbury evening Democrat., 1904-06-07

 don, on voyage from Antwerp and Southampton to the river Plate, had supposedly been wrecked off the north coast of France, sole survivor Albert Robinson, apparently a fireman or a steward, who lay at the Hotel de la Page at Yport, unconscious and suf- fering from a severe concussion of the brain By midday also the cure was established as sick nurse in the back bedroom of the little hotel with an English conversation book, borrowed from the sclloolmaster, protruding from the pocket of his soutane, awaiting the return of Albert Robinson's inner con- sciousness.
 "Are you feeling better| the cure had all ready to fire off at him as, soon book made reply, "Yes, but I have caught severe chill on the mountain.1 which also the cure had made ready ! to understand, with notifications,
 But the day passed without any use having been found for the conversa- tion book, and sundry persons whose business it was came and looked at Albert Robinson and talked to the priest and to Jean Belfort, who, to tell. the truth, made much capital and number of free glasses of red wine out of the incident-and went away again, The cure passed that night on the. second, bed of the back bedroom of the Hotel de la Page and .awoke only at daylight full of self reproach to find his charge still unconscious, still plac. i'd, like a statue, with cheeks little hollower and lips Little winter The young doctor came and shook his head and discoursed of other cases of a similar nature which he had read up since the previous day and pretended now to have remembered among his experiences. He also went away again, and Yport seemed to drop out of the world once more into that oblivion to which a village with such poor sea front and no railway station or lodg- ing houses or hotels where there are walters must expect to be consigned.
 The cure had just finished his de- jeuner of fish and an omelet, the day being Friday, when a carriage rattled down the village street, leaving behind it doorways suddenly occupied by the female population of Yport wiping it's hands upon its apron
 Ut is Francois Morin's carriage from Fecamp," said Mother Senneville, with a Parisienne, who has parasol, if you please"
 .'No," corrected the cure. "that is an Englishwoman. saw several last year in Rouen."
 And he hurried out, hatless, conversa- ton book in hand. He was rather talk en aback, never having spoken to person so well dressed as this English girl, who nodded quickly in answer to his salutation.
 'sIs this the hotel? Is he here? Is he conscious yety' she asked in toler- able French.
 'sYes, madame He is here, but he is not conscious yet. The doctor''-
 'I am not madame. I am mademoi- selle I am his sister, said the girl, quickly descending, from the carriage and frankly accepting the assistance of the cures rather timid hand.
 He followed her meekly, wondering at her complete self possession, at an utter lack of ceremony, at a certain blunt frankness which was new to Yport She nodded to Mime. Senneville.
 Where is he?' she asked.
 Monsieur le Cure will show you. It is he who has saved his life"
 The young lady turned and looked into the priests pink face, which grew pinker This was not the material of which gallant rescuers are usually made.
 Thank you, Monsieur le Cure" she said, with sudden gentleness. Thank you. It is so difficult, is it not, to thank any one?'
 "There is not the necessity" mur- mured the little cure rather confused Iy, and he led the way upstairs.
 Once in the sickroom he found his tongue again and explained matters volubly enough Besides, she made it easy. She was so marvelously natural, so free from certain constraint which in some French circles is mistaken for good manners. She asked every detail and made particular inquiry at to who had seen the patient.
 "No one must be allowed to see him" she said in her decisive way. "He must be kept quite quiet No one must ap- proach this room, only you and I, Mon sieur le Cure"
 "Yes, mademoiselle," he said slowly. sYes." s-
 ...You have been so good. You have done such wonders that I rely upon you to help me"
 And sudden sharp look of anxiety swept across her face.
 "We shall be good friends she said, turning to look at him as he stood near the door.
 "It will be easy, I think, mademoi- selle."
 Then he turned to Mme. Bonneville, who was carrying the baggage up- stairs.
 Ut is his sister. Mime. Senneville," he said. "She will of course stay in the hotel''
 "Yes, and have no room ready" re- piled the huge woman pessimistically. "One never Knows what a summer