Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1906-10-04


don--London, the Mecca Of the world,
from which two years ago he fed with
loathing akin to terror. The big ship
out there, painting and straining as IL
she were beginning, not ending her
ocean race OF 1900 miles, was carrying
eager hundreds to the pleasures and
follies OF the great city. Yet he, the
man smoking and silently staring at
the growing bank Of smolie-a young
man. too; handsome, erect, with the
clean, smooth profile Of the aristocrat--
had turned his back on 1t all and
sought and found peace here in the
gaunt pillar on Il lonely rock.
Strange how differently men ore con.
sttutcd And women. Bah, \ hard
look came into his eyes. His mouth set
In a stern contempt. For little while
his face bore Il steely expression which
would have amazed the man within the
lantern, now singing Justify as he
worked.
But, as tho harp of David caused the
evil spirit to depart from Saul, so did
the music of the morning chase away
the lurking devil Of memory which
sprang upon the lighthouse keeper with
the sight Of the vessel.
He smiled again. trihe bitterly per-
haps. behind him the singer roared
genially:
Soon we'll be in London Town,
Sing, my lads. yeo hoo.
And see the king In his golden crown,
Sing my lads, yeo ho!''
The man on the, platform seemed to
be aroused from painful reverie by
the jingle 50 curiously apropos to his
thoughts. lie tapped his pipe on the
iron railing and was about to enter the
lantern-and so to the region of sleep
beneath-whcn Suddenly his glance,
trained to an acutcuCsS not dreamed Of
by folk ashore. rested on some object
seemingly distant mile or less and
drifting slowly nearer with the tide.
At this hour two knot current
swept to the east around and over the
treacherous reef whose sunkcn fangs
We're marked by the lighthouse In
calm weather, such rs prevailed just
then. it was difficult enough to effect
landing at the base of the rock. but
this same smiling water race became
an awful, raging, tearing fury when
the waves We're dashed into storm
He pocketed his pipe and stood with
hands clinched on the rail, gazing in
tently at a white painted ships life
boat, with broken mast and n sail
trailing over the stern. It's color, with
the sun shining on it. no less than tho
vaporous eddes fading down TO the
surface Of the sea. had prevented him
from seeing ii earlier. Perhaps he
would not have noticed it at all We're
it not for the flashing wings of several
sea birds which accompanied the craft
in aerial escort.
Even yet landsman would have
stared insolently in that direction and
declared that there was naught else
in sight save the steamer, whose tall
masts and two black tunnels were now
distinctly visible, but the lighthouse
keeper knew he was not mistaken.
Here was a boat adrift, forlorn, de-
serted. It's contour told him that il
was no local craft straying advou-
turously from island or mainland. Its
unexpected presence, waited thus
strangely from ocean wilds, the broken
spar and tumhlcd canvas. betokened
an accident. perchance a tragedy.
"Jim" he cried.
His mate. engaged in shroudinG the
cleaning lenses from the suns rays.
came at the call. He was lame, the
result of q wound received in the
Egyptian campaign; nevertheless, he
was quick on his feet.
What do you make of that?"
The sailor required no more than
gesture. He shaded his eyes with his
right hand mere shipboard trick Of
concentrating vision and brain, for
the rising sun was almost behind him.
/ "Ships boat he answered lacOnical-
ly. collision. l expect. There's bin
no blow to speak of for days. But
they're gone. Knocked overheard when
she was took sback by squall. I'm
less them BIRDS
/ He spoke In species of verbal short
hand, but his meaning was clear
enough, even to the sentence left I'M
finished. The craft was under no con
troll She would drift steadily into the
bay until the tide turned, wander in
an aimless circle for half an hour
thereafter, and then. when the ebb re-
stored direction and force to the cur
rent, voyage forth again TO the tabled
realm of Lyonnessc.
For a little while they'stood together
In silence. Jim suddenly quilted his
companion and came back with glass
He poised it with the precision of a
Bisley marksman and began to speak
again jerkily:
stove in forrard above the water
line. Wouldn't live two minutes in a
sea. Somethin' lynn in the bows
Can't make it out. And there's q
! couple of cormOrants perched on the
gunwale. But she'll pass within 20G
yards on her present course, an the
tlde'll hold long enough for that"
The other man looked around. From
that elevated perch, 100 feet above
high water mark, he could survey d
vast area of sea. Excepting the ap
preaching steamer-which would HI
past a mile away to the southland q
few distant brown specks which be
tokened shOal Of Penzance fishing
smacks making the best Of the tide
eastward-there was not sail in
| sight.