The watchman and southron. [volume] (Sumter, S.C.) 1881-1930, 1906-03-28

did, beating out his life against the
rock?
Of the two he thought he should pre-.
fer a storm. He would be beaten to
pieces, the life battered out Of him hor-
rIbly in that event, but that would be
a battle, a struggle-action. He could
fight if he could not wait and endure.
1t would be a terrible death, but it
would be soon over, and therefore he
preferred it to the slow horror OF
watching the approach Of the waters
creeping in and up to drown him. The
chief agony Of his position, however,
the most terrifying feature in this
dreadful situation to which his years
Of crime had at last brought him, was
that he was allowed no choice.
So long as It was light Morgan in
tently watched the sea. There was
sense Of companionship in it which
helped to alleviate his unutterable lone
liness. And he was man to whom
loneliness in itself was punishment.
There were too many things in the past
that had habit of making their pres
ence felt when he was alone for him
ever to desire to be solitary. Present
" the sun disappeared with the star
ting suddenness Of ropic latitudes, and
without twilight darkness fell over the
sea and over his haggard face like a
veil. The moon had not yet risen, and
he could see nothing. There were
few faint clouds on the horizon, he had
noticed. which might presage a storm.
It was very dark and very still, as
calm and peaceful a tropic night as
ever shroudad the Caribbean. Farther
and farther away from him he could
hear the rustic of the receding waves
as the tide went down. Over his head
twinkled the stars out Of the deep
darkness.
Then the moon sprang up as sudden
" as the sun had fallen. Her silver
radiance flooded the armament. Light,
heavenly light, once more! Far away
from him the white line Of the water
was breaking on the silver sand.
Now the tide turned and came creep
ing in. It had gone out slowly, it had
fingered as If reluctant to leave him,
but to his distraught vision it returned
with the swiftness Of a thousand white
horses tossing their wind blown names.
The wind died down; the clouds were
dissipated. The night was so very calm
It Knocked the storm raging in his soul.
And still the silvered water came food
ing in. Gently, tenderly, caressingly,
the little waves Tapped the sands. At
last they lifted the ghastly head Of
young Teach and laid it at his feet
He cursed the rising water and bade
it stay, and heedlessly it came on. 1t
was tropic sea, and the waters were
as warm as those Of any sun kissed
ocean, but they broke upon his knees
with the coldness Of eternal ice. They
rolled the heavier body Of his faithful
slave against him. he strove to drive
it away with his foot as he had shiven
to thrust aside the ghastly head, and
without avail. The two friends receded
as the waves rolled back, but they
came on again and again and again.
They had been faithful to him in life;
they remained with him in death.
Now the water broke about his waist;
now it rose to his breast. He was ex-
hausted, worn out He hung silent,
staring. His mind was busy. His
thought went back to that rugged
Welsh land where he had been born.
He saw himself little boy playing in
the fields that surrounded the farm
house Of his father and mother.
he took again that long trip across
the ocean. He lived again in the hot
he'll Of the Caribbean. Old forms Of
forgotten buccaneers clustered about
him.
The water was higher now. 1t was
at his neck. There were Porto Bello,
Puerto Principe, and Maracaibo. and
Chagres, and Panama-ah, Panama! All
the iends Of hell had been there, and
he had been their chief! They came
back now to mock him.
There was pale faced, tender eyed
Maria Zerega, who had died Of the
plague, and the baby, the boy. Jamai-
ca, too, swept into his vision. There
was his wife shrinking away from him
In the very articles Of death. There was
young Ebenezer Hornigold, dancing
right merrily upon the gallows, togeth-
er with others Of the buccaneers he had
hanged.
The grim figure Of the one eyed
boatswain rose before him and leered
upon him and swept the other appari-
tons away. This was La Guayra
yesterday. He had been betrayed.
Whose men were those? The men
hanging on the walls: And Hornigold
! had done it-old Ben Hornigold-that
| he thought so faithful.
He screamed aloud again with hate;
he called down curses upon the head
of the growing one eyed apparition.
And the water broke into his mouth
and stopped him. 1t called him to his
| senses for a moment. His present peril
| overcame the hideous recollection Of
| tha mast That water was rising still