Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1907-06-28
CHAPTER VII-Continued.


lines of skiff growing out of the fog
and Fleetwood, from the cold black
water looked up and saw a girls face
bending down to him-never would ne
forget it.
It was Of that rich, creamy pallor
which is entirely different from the
hue Of ill-health. The low forehead
was half hidden in rings and tendrils
OF night black hair. The splendid
eyes, unfathomably dark, gazed down
on Fleetwood like dazzling moons. For
the rest he saw a cotton handkerchief
knotted under a soft round chin, long,
silky braids streaming cut beneath 1t,
a pair Of statuesque arms, barred to the
elbows, and shoulders that goddess
might have envied.
Mind what you're about" she said'
sharply, as Fleetwood instinctively
grasped the gunwale Of her boat.
Don't upset the dory! What" der1-
sively, "is that you, Rube Dexter
fioundering there like a dogish? l
thought you knew how to sail cat
boat!"
And then Fleetwood felt assured that
he was in the presence Of Rubes en-
chantress.
And so l do, Miss Esther" stam-
mered poor, drenched Rube; but that
darned schooner run us down In the
fog. Can you take Mr.. Fleetwood into
your skiff?"
The young Canadian had not wholly
recovered from his Colorado wounds.
The coldness of the water struck to
his vitals. AS Dexter was speaking a
sudden faintness seized him. His hand
fell helplessly Srom the boat. The girl
who had been called Esther seized him
promptly by his fair hair.
He is swooning!" she called to
Rube. Help me to get him into the
skiff"
Rube, a vigorous swimmer, flew to
her aid, when, by their combined ef-
forts, they had got Fleetwood safely
into the dory, the dark eyed maid and
Dexter, with some difficulty righted the
catboat, Of which the young fisherman
resumed possession. While the pair
were thus engaged, Fleetwood, al
though he lay limp as seaweed in the
bottom Of the dory, was not so far
gone but that he could hear the. fol-
lowing conversation:
"Who is this man." said Esther
Hart.
Hes a Canadian genrieman-Fleet-
wood is his name, and a fine sort OF
fellow he seems to be. I'd be sorry
to have anything happen to him here"
Whats he doing at Cinderville?"
disdainfully.
well, looking arter woman, as
near as I can find out. I don't right
ly know what he wants Of her-I dun
no as he's ever told that part of the
story; but it's somebody as was never
heard Of hereabouts, and he's going to
leave tomorrow"
who is the woman?"
I'm blessed if 1 know! Seems to me
you're mighty interested" with quiv-
er Of jealously in his tone. Tempest
is her name, he says. There's some
thing that goes afore it-Cordian or
Concertina. l don't remember which.
Nobody knows her at Cinderville."
For a moment Esther Hart sat as
If dumfounded, then she broke into a
ringing laugh.
Think again, Reuben. You are
frightfully stupid, you know. Was
not the name Concordia instead OF
Concertina ?-Concordia Tempest, does
that sound like it?"
Yes, that's 1t, l dare say" replied
Reuben, in an aggrieved tone. but
can't rightfully see as it's of any ac-
count to you or to me. How did you
come to know it, anyway"
"A little bird whispered it in my
ear. Your Mr. Fleetwood is absurdly
good looking"
"Is he? 1 amt much Of jedge.
Seems to me you will have to take
him to the Light. I'm afeard he's lost
his senses"
Not altogether. Fleetwood, lying
fiat in the boat, was tingling with
new and sudden interest. This girl
knew something Of Concordia Temp
est. Her laughter, the very tone OF
her voice as she pronounced the odd
name, told him that. Immediately ne
became aware that the dory was Gid
ing swiftly off through fog and water
with the catboat in its wake. The girI
pulled with long, steady, practiced
strokes.
Not even the dense mist could battle
her, for directly a great black object
loomed dimly up through the Vapor
before her, and straight as an arrow
to its mark, the skiff shot up to the
rude landing place of Porgy island.
Here, with suspicious suddenness
Fleetwood revived, and sat up in the
boat.
He saw bare, lonely rock, with nc
vegetation upon it save clumps of dog
weed and hills of potatoes distributed
wherever the soil could be found to
receive them, and no sign of human
habitation but the tall light and the
attached dwelling house of the keep
er, both painted white, and standing
up with ghostly effect against the
gloomy darkness of bare rocks and
tumbling waves.
"Gran'ther!" called Esther Hart from
the landing place.
An old man came shuftling dowr
the path from the tower-a weather
beaten Triton, with a face like wrink'
led leather, and the rolling gait of {
sailor.
Here's a gentleman" explained th'
girl, briefly, who has been capsized II
Rube Dexter's boat. Take him up t
the Light, and ask Aunt Deb to giv'
him a change Of clothes, while l moo
the boat"
"Ay, ay," responded the Triton gruff
ly.
Fleetwood followed him to the hous'
"a snug little place, shining will
neatness. The Aunt Deb referred t