Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1909-02-16
CHAPTER vi.

4
CHAPTER VI.
Not far from the spot where William
Jones had landed, and removed some lit
tie distance from the deserted village,
with its desolate main street and roofess
labitations, there stood low. one-storied
cottage, quite as black and forbidding
looking as any of the abandoned dwell
ings in its vicinity. 1t was built of stone,
and rooted with slate, but the doorway
was composed Of old ships timber. and
the one small window it contained had
originally formed the window of ships
cabin. Over the door was placed, like
| sign, the wooden figurehead of a young
woman, holding a mirror in her hand.
and regarding herself with remarkable
| complacency. despite the fact that acct
dent had deprived her of nose and one
eye, and that the beautiful red complex
ion and jet black hair she had once pos
sessed had been entirely washed away by
the action of the elements, leaving her all
over of a leprous pallor. The rest of the
building. as | have suggested, was of sin
lister backness, though here and there
it was sprinkled with wet sea sand. Sand.
| too, lay on every side, covered a small
patch originally meant for a garden, and
drifted thickly up to the very door.
To this cottage William Jones ran with
his treasure-trove, and, entering in with
out ceremony found himself in almost
total darkness for the light which crept
through the backened panes of the small
window was only just sufficient to make
darkness visible. But this worthy sea-
side character, having, in addition to
cats predatory instincts, something of a
| cats power of vision, clearly discerned ev
erything in the chamber he just entered
a rude. stone-paved kitchen, with an open
fireplace, and no crate, black rafters over
head. from which suspended sundry lean
pieces of bacon, a couple of wooden
chairs. table, and in one corner,
| sort of bed in the wall, where a human
figure was reposing Setting down the
trunk on the floor, he marched right over
TO the bed and unceremoniously shook the
individual lying upon it, whom he dis
covered to be man, muttering in a heavy
sleep. Finding that he did not wake
with shaking, William Jones bent down
and cried Justify in his ear:
Wreck wreck ashore ~
The effect was instantaneous. The fig
ure rose up in bed, disclosing the head
/ and shoulders of a very old man, who
wore a red cotton nightcap. and whose
hair and beard were as white as snow.
"Eh? Where? Where?" he cried, in
a shrill treble, looking vacantly around
him.
Wake up, old 'un ~ said William, seiz-
ing him, and shaking him again. Its
me. William Jones -
William? Is it my son William" re-
turned the old man, peering out into the
darkness.
Eyes, father. Look We now you was
attacking again in your sleep, you was. A
good thing no one heerd you but your
son William. Some o. these days you'll be
letting summat out, you will. if you go
on ike this
The old man shook his head feebly,
then. clasping his hands together in
| kind of rapture, he looked at his son, and
said
Yes, William, 1 was a-dreaming. 1t
was a-standing on the Shore William, and
it was a-blowing hard from the east. and
(! all at once l see a ship as big as an In
| diaman, come in wi all sail set and go
ashore; and looked round, William dear,
and there was no one nigh but you and
me; and, when she broke up, l see gold
and silver and jewels come washing
ashore just like floating weeds, and the
drownded, every one of 'em, had rings
| on their fingers, and god watches and
cheens. and, more'n that, that their hands
was full of shining gold; and one on 'em
"a lady, William-had a bright diamond
ring as big as walnut; but when l
tried to pull it off. it wouldn't come;
and just as l pulled out my leetle knife to
cut the finger off, and put it in my
pocket you shook me, William, and woke
me up. Oh, it was lovely dream
William Jones had listened with ill-dis-
! guised interest to the early part of this
speech. but, on its conclusion, he gave
another grunt of undissembled disgust.
well, you're awake now, old 'un; so
lump up. I've brought summat home.
Look sharp. and get light"
| Thereupon the old man, who was fully
dressed. in a pair of old wooden trous-
ers and guernsey, slipped from the bed,
and began fumbling about the room. He
soon found what he wanted--a box OF
matches and a rude, home candle,
fashioned of long, coarse reed dipped IN
sleeps tallow but. owing TO the fact that
he was exceedingly feeble and tremulous.
he was so long in lighting up, that his
gentle son grew impatient
Here. give 'un to me ~ said William
YOU'RE wasting them matches just as
If they cost nowt. A precious father, you
| are. ano no mistake"
The candle being lighted and burning
with feeble flame, he informed the old
man of what he had found In a moment
the latter was down on his knees. open
ing the box. and greedily examining its
contents. But William pushed him impa-
| tiently away and closed the lid with
bang.
'.Theer, enough o that. old 'un. You
hold the light while l carry the box in
and put it away"
IAN right. William dear-an right"
returned the old man, obeying gleefully.
II know'd we should have luck, by that
beautiful dream"
The two men-one holding the light and
the other carrying the trunk-passed
through a door at the back of the kitchen
and entered an inner chamber. This
chamber. too. contained window. which
was so blocked up. however. by lumber
| of all kinds that little or no daylight en-
| tered. Piled up in great confusion were
old sacks. some partly fun, some empty.
coils of rope, broken oars, broken frag-
ments Of ships planks. rotten and bar
nacled. small boats rudder. dirty sails,
several oilSkin coats, bits of iron ballast.
and other iotsam and jetsam; so that the
chamber had a salt and fsh-like smell,
suggesting the hold Of some vessel. But
in one corner OF the room was a small
wooden bes,s with q mattre Ind coarse
bed clothing. and hanging on nail close
TO il was certain feminine attire which
the owner of the Caravan would have
(, recognized as the gafb worn by Matt on
| the morning of her FIRST appearance
Placing the box down. William Jones