The Calhoun chronicle. [volume] (Grantsville, W. Va.) 1883-1984, 1912-07-23

cupful OF wind. scarce an intermit-
tent breath of breeze from the land:
and the crew OF the Bowery lay about
the deck smoking with righteous Wig
or. as they netted or stitched. or in
dulged In those seemingly useless oc-
equations which are the delight of sail
ors. Often however. they stayed
their work to listen to the rise and
fall Of sounds In the saloon aft; and
once. when Maclaren's voice was
heard almost In a scream. one OF
them. squirting his tobacco juice over
the bulwarks. made the sapient re-
mark. We'll. the old cove's dander
is riz now, anyway"
The scene below WAS played vigor-
ously. Evelyn Lenox sat upon the
sofa. her arms resting upon the cabin
table. her bright face positively alight
with triumph. Maclaren stood before
her with clenched hands and gnash-
ing teeth. Arthur, the brother, was
smoking pipe and pretending to read
q newspaper leaving the conversation
TO his guest. who had no lack OF words.
Good God. Evelyn" he said, you
cannot mean to keep me here any
longer-to-morrow's my wedding day."
She answered him very slowly.
How interesting! / remember the
time. not so long ago. when my we'd
ding day was fixed-and postponed"
He did not heed the rebuke, but con-
tinued cravenly.-
you do not seem to understand
that your brother and yourself have
perpetrated upon me an outrage which
will make you detested In every coun-
try In Europe. Great Heaven! the
whole town will laugh at me. l shan't
have a friend In the place; I shall be
cut at every club, as I'm a living
man"
The girl listened to him, her eyes
sparkling with the excitement of IT.
did you never stop to think" said
she, when you left America. like the
coward you were. that people would
laugh at me. too. and should never
be able to look my friends in the face
againf Why, even In the newspapers
they held me up to ridicule when my
heart was breaking. You speak of
suffering; we'll, have suffered"
Her mood changed. as the mood of
women does-suddenly. The feminine
instinct warred against the actress,
and prevailed. She began TO weep hys-
terically, burying her head In her
arms; and painful silence fell on
the man. He seemed to walt for her
to speak; but when she did so, anger
had succeeded, and she rose from her
place and stamped her foot, while
rage seemed to vibrate In her nerves.
why do waste my time on you"
she cried; you who are not worth an
honest thought. Pshaw! Lord Mac
laren. illustrlous nobleman and great
sportsman she was quoting from
an American paper-"go and tell them
that for ten days you have humbled
yourself TO me, and have begged my
pity on your knees. Go and tell them
that my crew have held their sides
when the parts have been changed,
and you have been the woman. Oh,
they shall know. don't mistake that;
your wife shall read II on her wedding
tour. ] will send II to her myself, I,
who have brought the laugh to my
side now, scion Of noble house. Go.
and take the recollection Of your pic
mic here as the best present can give
to you"
was told that Maclaren looked at
her in profound astonishment when
she pointed to the cabin door. Then,
without a word, he went on deck, to
md the yachts boat manned and
waiting for him. He said himself that
many emotions filled him as he
stepped off the yacht-anger at the
outrage, desire for revenge, but chief
ly the emotions OF the thought, was
there time TO reach St Peters for the
wedding ceremony? He did not doubt
that lies would save him from the
American woman, II things so hap
pened that he could reach England
by the morning Of the next day But
could he? Where was he? Where
was he to be put ashore? He asked
the men at the oars these questions In
a breath, standing up for one moment
as the boat pushed OF to shake his
fist at the yacht, and cry, On you
ALL" But the answer that he got did
not reassure him. He was to be put
ashore. the seaman said, at Crotoy,
the little town on q tongue Of land
In the bay OF the Somme There was
steamer thence once day to Saint
Valery. from which point he could
reach Boulogne by rail. He realized
In moment that all his hope depend
ed on catching the steamer. II she
had not sailed, he would arrive at
Boulogne before sunset, and, II need
were, could get across by the night
mail and a special train from FoIke.
stone But II she had sailed! This
possibility he dared not contemplate.
The men were now rowing rapidly
towards the shore, whose sandy dunes
and fiat outlines were becoming
marked above the sea-line. The yacht
lay far out, drifting on a CLASSY mirror
OF water; the sun was sinking with
great play of yellow and red fire in
the arc of the west. Maclaren had
then, however, no thought for natures
pictures. or for seascapes. One burn
Ing anxiety alone troubled him--had
the steamer sailed? He offered the
men ten, 20. co. a hundred pounds II
they would catch her. The remark
OF one Of them that she left on the
top Of the tide begot in him a mad
eagerness to learn the hour Of high.
water; but none OF those with him
could Femember II He found himeeIf