The Parisian. (Paris, Tenn.) 1907-1962, 1914-11-20
CHAPTER XIX.

/
"Gee!" he grunted frankly, when
after toilsome progress from the
boat, Rose at length slipped from the
seat formed by the clasped hands of
the two men. "And it was me who
| Suggested this!"
The girl responded with quiet
laugh of the most natural effect mag
inable-until 1t ended in sigh, and
without the least warning she crum-
pied upon herself, and would have
fallen heavily, in dead faint, but for
| Alan's quickness.
Good Lord!" Barcus exclaimed, as
Alan gently lowered the inert body OF
the girl to the sands. And to think
didn't understand she was so nearly
all in-chaffing her like that! I'd like
to kick myself"
Don't be impatient" Alan advised
grimly; I'm busy just at present, but
Meantime, you might fetch
some water to revive her."
1t was an order by no means easy
to fill; Barcus had only his cupped
hands for vessel, and little water
remained in them by the time he had
dashed from the shadows back to the
spot where Rose lay unconscious,
while the few drops he did manage
to sprinkle into her face awaited moth
ing toward rousing her from the
trance-like slumbers of exhaustion into
which she passed from her fainting
fit. ~.
| In the end Alan gave up the effort.
She's all right" he reported. releas-
ing the wrist whose pulse he had been
timing. "She tainted, right enough,
but now she's just asleep-and needs
it, God knows! 1t would be kinder
to let her rest, at least until see what
sort of a reception that lighthouse Is
inclined to offer u.s."
Barcus nodded. His face was drawn
and gray in the moon-glare. THANK
God!" he breathed brokenly, you're
able. I'm not"
He sat down suddenly and rested his
head on his knees. Don't be longer
than you can help" he muttered
thickly.
He had come to the headland of
the lighthouse itself before the ground
began to shelve more gently to the
beach; and was on the point of ad-
| dressing himself to the dark and silent
cottage of the lightkeeper when he
paused, struck by sight of what till
then had been hidden from him.
The promontory, he found. formed
the eastern extremity of a wide-armed
If shallow harbor where rode at moor
ings considerable number of small
craft-pleasure vessels assorted about
equally with fishing boats. And barely
an eighth Of a mile on, long-legged
wharves stood knee-deep in the water,
like tentacles flung out from the sleepy
little fishing village that dotted the
rising ground-a community of per-
haps two hundred dwellings.
Nor was this ali-even as Alan hove
in view of the village he heard series
of staccato snorts, the harsh tolling of
a brazen bell, the rumble of train
pulling out from a station. And then
he saw its jewelstring of lights flash
athwart the landscape and vanish as
it's noise died away diminuendo.
Where one train ran another must.
He need only now secure something
to revive Rose, help her somehow up
the beach, and In another hour or two,
of certainty, they would be speed
ing northwards, up the cape, toward
Boston and the land of law and order.
Such thoughts as these, at least,
made up the texture of his hopes the
outcome proved them somewhat too
presumptuous. He logged down a
quiet village street and into the rail-
road station just as the agent was clos
ing up for the night
A surly citizen, this agent, ill-pleased
to have his plans disordered by chance
flung strangers. He greeted Alan's
breathless query with a grunt of In
grained churlishness.
Nah" he averred, "they amt no
more trains till mornin'. Can't y see
I'm shuttin' up?"
But surely there must be tele-
graph station"
"You bet your life they is-right
here in this depot. An I'm shuttin 1t
up. too"
Has the operator gone for the
night?"
| Hes going. I'm the OPERATOR. No
business transacted after office hours.
Call raound at eight o'clock tomor.
row mornin'. Now If you'll jest step
out of that door. I'll say g'd-night to
you"
i But / must send telegram" Alan
protested. II tell you, | must. It's
a matter of life and DEATH
i Sure, young feller. It always is
after business hours
il Won't you open up again."