The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1909-07-29

feS-yeS' | know. lack. but-hur
it is all so terrible. and-and has coma
to me with such a shock | can not
comprehend it-thst they should have
actually been here-here. ali those
yesrs-wsiting! But I will not think
Of it any longer; II will do some
thing to make me forget"
We all messed together, sitting upon
the long benches drawn up about the
table. Dads waiting upon us. with Dor
is and Celeste occupying places be
tween De Nova and myself. At the
beginning we spoke little. the strange
ness of our surroundings holding us
silent, but the minds of all being busy
with the same thought. We insensibly
drifted into conversation regarding
our chances of rescue, and the history
nOated. Once De Nova introduced the
subject Of the treasure which might
be stored away below deck. apd tha
men exhibited their interest by nu
nsrous question; but | gave them 1T
tie encouragement along this line. re-
alizing that for the present our earli
est effort should be to transform the
wreck into some degree of safety-a
sail first, and a clean rudder; these at
tanned, the search for treasure might
begin.
What scene and group that was!-
the wintry night without, the drifting
fog of snow, the helpless hulk rising
and falling upon the treacherous heave
OF the sea. that odd violet -colOrpd light
cleaning over us. The faces are even
before me-the girlish looking Celeste,
with her dark curls and white teeth;
Lady Darlington, her gray eyes still
moist as she glanced about the in
terror, unforgetful of its memories: De
Nova, iaunty as ever, with no thought
beyond the present. recalling to my
mind with every movement the face Of
that dead Spaniard who for more than
a century had sat whore he was sit
ting; Sanchez. pale and with that
hunted look, a counterpart no doubt of
some seaman this ship had known in
other days; Mcknight, burly and red
neCked; Kelly, his blue eyes filled with
the merriment of old Ireland John
son. broad shouldered, and sober-faced
eating steadily. with never a lift of
his shaggy browS; and Dade. futtering
about like a waiter ashore. with his
eternal smirking and suggest ion of a
tip.
When the dishes had finally been re
moved | gave the men permission 10
smoke, went back TO the after state
room, and brought forth the Iog-book.
which we made an effort to decipher
1t was roughly written and by a mum
Der of different hands, and between us
our knowledge of early Spanish script
was barely sufficient TO enable us to
read a portion OF it, The earlier en-
tries made by the captain. although
badly faded, were legibe enough.
bringing the story of the voyage down
to the latter part OF July, and recount
ing a series of severe gales. involving
the loss of several members of the
crew. Then a new hand took up the
pen, "BaIaZa, first officer" the captain
having been killed by a falling spar;
for a week or ten days the tale was
Of fierce struggles in the ice-pack. and
a steady drift to the southwark. Others
followed Alcassar, second officer"
Salvatore, government agent" every
line the record of new disaster, gales,
wrecked rigging and death They
We're locked in beyond all hope early
in August vast hummocks overhans-
ing the deck, the forecaste sealed by
ice, the cold so deadly the red-hot
stove scarcely kent the numbing chill
from the cabin. the doors and windows
Of which they had covered with
blankets. Not a day passed but that
they carried out their dead upon the
Ice, leaving them beyond sight of he
deck The names were all written
down. There came a time when the
survivors were too few and weak even
for that service; when they could do
nothing but cover within the cabin
and cast dice to settle on who should
go down into the icy hold and bring
UP the fuel which alone kept life in
them. They drank and played cards:
they quarreled, forgetting everything
human and reverting TO brutes. The
child of Sonora Alcatras died the next
day the mother went quietly TO sleep.
never TO wake again. They did not
even know when her Anal breath came.
She was the last of the women. The
boatswain, Pedro REQ, passed away
that same night, sitting on the deck;
and there was left only Salvatore.
who had gone mad, seaman named
Juan Ruiz, and a passenger. Antonio
Saltere. 1t was the latter who wrote
the final entry, September II, 1853:
81 touched Ruiz just now, he was stone
cold; there is only Salvatore left, grin
ming at me across the table; the last
candle is going out, too, and | haven't
strength to go after more. Jesu,
mercy" 1t ended in the blank page.
Strengthened up, unable to articu-
late. scarcely able to see. Celeste clung
convulsively to De Nova's sleeve. her
eyes staring at me, her lips parted as
if for a scream Doris had bowed her
face upon the table; the men sat hor-
rified, breathing heavily. So intense
was the silence that | could hear the
cracking of the coal, the sharp swish
of snow against the window And that.
awful thing had actually hammered