Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1908-08-07
as mud, and bedad! It's meself as hates


O. the clock, and I sez to myself, I'll
jist step out for a breath O. air to re-
vive mel for I wor in need Of thai
same, me wind being gone entirely wild
the craythur. So out I goes, and jumps
into me boat and rows off a bit, to COO
me temper and see that the island was
all right for the night. Well, by me
sowl, sor, the fog was getting thin, wild
a notion of light behind it; and
hadn't gone far whin an empty boat
came a-drifting along, all as still as yer
plase, sor; and what did do but row
up to it, and lay hould Of the craft to
tow 1t to the island, and down in the
bottom of it 1 found something quare-
q slip Of girl, wild her senses gone out
of her. Betwixt fright and cowld she
wor like one dead. Sorra sign Of life
about her."
"A grill" echoed Paget Fassel, in
amazement
"Shure, sor and purity as an angel,
but all splashed wild the salt sea that
had leaked into the boat, and stiff and
dead wild the fog and cowld, and wild
not so much as bit O. a shawl to kiver
her. 1 got the boat to the landing
place, and TUX the wee craythur in me
two arms-she wor a feathers weight
and carried her up the rocks to Norah.
BE plased' sez I, to hould yer jaw for
awhile, Mrs. Terry, ma'am,' sez I, and
bring this colleen to her sivin senses!'
Faix! We wurked hard over the gurl,
sor, and prisintly we fetched her round; {;
and she axed where wor she, and what
had happened, and we tould her she
wor safe at Storm Island, in the house
o dacent gintleman, Mr.. Paget Fas-
sci, as wor king O. the place. Wild that
she seemed nightly stirred up, and
afther bit she wint on to explain how
she wor out rowing all by herself, whin
the fog came down, and she lost her
oars and wint adrift, the darlint! and
how she had heard O. Mr.. Fassel, and
would we call ye, for she had private
business wild the gintleman O. Storm
Island. The ould woman said it would
niver do to disturb We at that hour,
seeing now We had given ordhers to
the contrary So the young craythur
let Norah put her to bed, quiet as a
lamb, and she's been a'slaping all night
in the tower, and now wild morning,
sor, she's up and at it ag'in, coaxing
and shmiling like saint, and wanting
to 'av' word wild yerself, sor"
Fassel had followed his servants
story with a considerable show Of in
terest.
And who is this girl that you found
drifting about in an oarless boat, Ter
ry?" he asked.
"Troth, sor, that's jist what she's
waiting to tell ye."
Fassel put down his pen, and arose
from the table.
Come, then," he said.
And master and man descended a
stair to the ground floor of the tower,
where Norah, the neat, comely, hot
tempered wife Of Terry presided over
Paget Fassers domestic affairs.
This ocean hermitage, known by the
name of the Towerhouse, commanded
vast views Of the Atlantic. 1t was a
place full Of savage, primitive charm.
A few years before Fassel had pur-
chased the Storm, and reared the stone
house, as a retreat where he could re-
cruit mind and body, after prolonged
labor and weary wandering. The is
land was hardly a mile long, and scant
in vegetation, with brown, igneous rock
cropping up everywhere through the
thin soil. A low growth of resinous
tress struggled along it's eastern side,
and near the Towerhouse was a safe,
sandy beach, where Terry kept his
boats. Paget Fassel and his two SER
wants were the sole inhabitants Of the
Storm.
AS the island owner entered the sit
ting room, where he was wont to take
his morning meal a curious picture met
his gaze, and startled him not little.
His own easy-chair was drawn up to
a sunny eastern window, and nestled in
it's depths he saw a fairylike creature,
white, SOFT dazzling, dressed in blue
flannel gown, and with all her golden
hair curling loose down her shoulders.
She was languidly watching Norah, as
that trim Celtic matron spread the
cloth for breakfast
IF We plase, MISS" said Terry's wife,
Here's the master himself, come to
spake wild ye."
The fairy arose. With her Greuze
face, and that rich, flowing name, she
looked like some half-grown child.
"Mr. Fassel?" she timidly inquired,
and her voice was like a silver bell. He
bowed.
IL am Elizabeth Hillyer-the kins-
woman of your friend, Mrs. Ellicott.
You may have heard Of me-" she said,
Elizabeth Hillyer! The name re-
promise made to Mrs. Ellicott, the full
fillment Of which he, absorbed in more
agreeable duties, had purposely delay
de from day to day.
Certainly l have heard Of you," he
acknowledged, promptly.
She drew from her pocket package
Of letters and a time-stained paper
The first comprised a correspondence
which had been carried on for a fort
night betwixt Mrs. Ellicott and the un-
known Elizabeth Hillyer. The paper
was the marriage certificate Of John
Hillyer and Elizabeth Ellicott purloin-
ed several days before from the sailor
girls private treasure. For safety's sake
its present possessor had carried II
about upon her person ever since the
theta precaution which was now to
be turned to her great advantage.
t. be Continued.
Defed the Judge.