The times dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1903-1914, 1908-05-24

discovered, II would be too lat4 to
catch the fugitive, II even the direction
she had taken could be decided; only
she was not likely to attempt return
Ing the way she had come, as the
wind would be against her. Falconer
and his Skipper" did not. however, re-
lax their efforts; indeed, for all they
could tell in the present gloom, the
yacht might not be very far astern.
Away sped the Nellie, with stiff
breeze on her port quarter, which sent
her almost on her beam. while the
spray flew over her In showers. But
May was accustomed to this sort of
thing. and never dreamt of going be-
low. but remained on deck, delighting
In wind and wave and stormy sky.
"Benalva Head" sang out Jim PEN
drill; and Mays straining gaze could
discern a dark headland looming up on
the port bow.
Round the headland swept the Nell
lie, and into the little natural bay
formed by 1t, and the inward sweep OF
the cliffs opposite to It. In that snug
cove lay the little village for which
the fugitives were bound.
II think we've done EN-. sir" said
Jim Pendril, as the vessel was hove to
In safe mornings. There's no sign OF
EN-
While the boat was being lowered
Falconer took the glass and swept the
horizon. across which the first faint
streak OF dawn was breaking. There
was not sail in sight. He shut the
glass and turned to May.
"Baffled!'' he said. quietly. Come,
the boat Is ready. I'll see you again.
Pendril. Thanks for your good work
tonight. You'd best lie. here till broad
morning. You're safe out OF sight here
unless they stood right in shore, which
isn't likely. And II you are sighted
in the morning, why"-he laughed-"ii
will be too late"
May was handed down into the boat
Falconer following. and few minutes
later the runaways stepped ashore.
Falconer gave some loose money to
the mem babe them good morning,
and they turned back to the boat.
while Derek led his young companion
up to the sleeping village.
you must be tired and hungry.
sweetheart" he said, tenderly. II an
going to take you to the principal inn
II know the people. and we'll wake
them UP and have some supper. Then
I'LL leave you in the good landlady's
| care and go to the Jack Tar, further
up the village, I'll call for you at
half-past I and take you to the
church"
In the early morning these two knelt
before the altar OF the little village
church and were made man and wife.
The sunshine streamed through the
east window. and fell upon the mans
dark head and the womans brown
curls like benediction. There were
no bridesmaids, no wondrous "confec.
ttlons.. no crowd of smartly attired
chattering guests; but there was love
and faith. and trust In the present and
1.-THE future. The solemn words in which
/ husband and wife dedicate each to eacl
honor, reverence and lifelong servic,
were no conventional utterances. to b.
set aside by courts of law or nulllhet
| by base motives in the speakers; the,
were the true speech Of heart and
will, hand clasping hand, till death
should them sunder. They came out
Into the churchyard, and inmediatel,
heard hum OF voices and the sound Of
running feet. The next moment the
churchyard gate WAS pushed open. anc
two men strobe up the path, followed
| by number of villagers, and came
face to face with the fugitives. They
we've Mr.. Birmingham and Walter Com
erford.
$50. sir" began the hrst, furiously
1--WE have caught You at last"
unfortunately for you. Mr.. Curing
ham," INTERRUPTED Falconer. coolly