The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1909-12-15

ugly cut under his blonde hair. With
deft fingers they bandaged his
wcunds-then looked expressively at
each other.
els this the mar you saw on the
beach with Mrs. Trevor?"asked Vic.
YES" answered Jacqueline.
"It's plain that Peter and Joe fell
on him together, shot and cut him,
as you see, then dumped him into the
boat, and set it adrift, expecting that
he'd find a grave in the water. And
the tide brought him round the ISL
and to Dragons Nose.
But what have they done with
Mrs. Trevor?"
KILLED her, most likely, and If we
don't look sharp after this man his
death will be at their door, too. He's
hurt in the head, you see. Wen
have our match to bring him to-,
miss"
They worked with a will, how
ever, made him a bed with all the
blankets they had, and, woman-like,
forgot their own troubles to minister
to one yet more needy. In view OF
the treatment given to st. George
their own situation assumed a grave
aspect. They had to deal with law
less men, who would stop at nothing.
Vic sailed forth again in the
MOONLIGHT and returned with a piece
of driftwood - the fragment of a
mast from some lost ship. This she
fixed as a barrier in the mouth of the
cave. She lighted the fire again and
snuffed the candle. A watch must
be kept till morning, and the girls
determined to assume it in turn.
Jacqueline looked down at the pros
trate figure of st. George and
thought Of the Cornish lane where
she had first met him of Aunt
Bradshaw-of Doris, a~nxiously wait
ing for, news in the Wingate house.
Her heart swelled within her. And
Mrs. Trevor had been this mans wife
she had forsaken him for Philip
Trevor. 1t was terrible-more like
a wild nightmare than reality.
The hours dragged on; the lights
and shadows flickered weirdly in the
ave-. Jacqueline slept while Vic
watched; then awoke to keep vigil in
turn, and give the faithful Vic her
period of rest. Outside, the sea
foamed through the channel, the
wind groaned in the cedars. Within
St. George lay in a stupor, family
muttering from time to time. 7 JAG
u~ueline wet his lips with spring wat
-er. and assiduously bathed his wrists
to keep down the fever which was
working in his veins. She had some
where heard that cold applications
to the leaping pulse. would reduce
the temperature, and other remedy
she had none. 3
About midnight his voice became
audible. Vic was still sleeping. 1t
fell to Jacqueline to listen alone.
Some lines from an old play seemed
running through his clouded brain.
He quoted, in a broken tone: I.
"Oh, We gods! =.
Why do you make US love your good
ly gifts,
And snatch them straight away"
Jacqueline did not want to listen,
but the murmur went on, and she
could not shut her ears.
1.-The fire is burned out, Edith.
Once you were heaven itself to me
now you are less than nothing" And
again, in a tone of poignant distress,
For Gods sake, don't talk Of Basil,
for then I have no pity for you! A
mad wife-a worse mother!"
Silence for a space; she hoped he
had fallen asleep, but once more he
tossed r~estlessly and cried:
Where is Miss Hatton? Would
you have me leave her here in this
VOLTS den? God forgive me for ever
directing her here!-I shall not SOON
forgive myself! Her face would melt
a stone man, but not Philip Trevor"
And last Of all she heard these
faint words:
"A woman like that might have
made my life worth living"
Toward morning Vic relieved her,
and Jacqueline lay down in a corner
of the cave and slept heavily. When
she awoke Vic was just entering the
door with a pail of foaming milk.
Il know where the cows are kept"
she chuckled. I'VE need this for our
coffee, and we must coax the sick
man to take a little. He's been say
ing a lot of queer things-he seems
awfully mixed in his mind"
Jacqueline performed her ablu-
tons at the spring under the cedars.
The morning a. blushing over a
smooth sea. The gulls screamed on
the lodges; the waves murmured
softly about Dragons Nose. Peace
and security appeared to reign every
where; but, alas! st. George, stretch
ficient proof of the dangers that still
encompassed the occupants of the
cave.
A cup of coffee and a morsel of
bread made Jacqueline's breakfast.
St. George drank the milk which his
anxious nurses held to his lips. They
bathed his wounds and bandaged
them anew, smoothed his hard bed
and sighed because they could do no
more.
He needs a doctor and medicine"
said Jacqueline; "he will die without