Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1924-02-20
In the Deep
Waters
o. 1928, Western Newspaper Union)
By EDWARD LEVINE

0V QUILL never find anything that
falls into the mill stream. 1t
runs too fast and too far-clear down
to the sea, on barren coast far away"
Thus Mrs. Semple, my landlady. l
had rented the Old mill for the sum
mer, to finish up some work there.
| wanted solitude, and there was no
one nearer than the village, two miles
away. Mrs. Semple came over every
day to do for me- as she phrased it.
There was an air of uncanniness
about the mill. Silence seemed to
brood there no bird ever sang there
were always shadows about the place;
there was the sense of an impalpable
presence.
1t had belonged to Farmer Styles
until his death two years before.
Since then the heirs had offered it for
sale, but nobody wanted it. OF course
the days of the country mill were end
ed, but still, there was good farming
land attached. I wondered at it.
Styles had been stubborn, grim
old man, the neighbors told me. His
wife? Hadn't wife. Leastways,
he'd had one once, but she died-they
thought she died. 1t was so long ago,
before they settled there.
1t was Mrs. Semple who, little by
little, let out the story and enabled me
to piece it together. 1t appeared that
very many years before, when the mill
was in the zenith of its prosperity.
Farmer Styles had brought a young
wife home with him from the city.
Citytied, she was, gay little thing,
at first, anyway, and folks wondered
now she could have married the grim,
middle-aged man, with his gloomy
ways. He was not unkind to her
that was admitted. Only naturally
she pined and moped, and became the
shadow of her former self. She want
ed life, gaiety, company, not the
gloomy old mill and her dour husband.
Then young IngleSs came ON the
scene. Farmland he was, nothing
more, but a quiet sort of chap, who
used to burn the midnight Oil, reading
at night, studying to fit himself for
something higher. He was some years
younger than Mrs. Styles. She was
like mother to him.
They were naturally attracted TO
each other-two young people He
would sit with her in the parlor al
night, while Styles was porting over his
| accounts in the mill, Harm? Well,
folks gossiped but that's their way,
Time went on, and the gossip grew
more pronounced. Only Styles seemed
to see nothing His little wife grew
brighter, more cheerful She moped
no longer. Styles grew more grim ana
dour. Perhaps he did see something
1t was given out that he was gUing
to a distant city for some days. His
wife was to follow him. Young Ing
less? Why, it was reported that he
was leaving. There was much search
ing of hearts after to find who had
spread these various stories, whether
in fact, they had been spread, or craft
lily limited at by Styles.
1t was Ted Brooks who told all that
there was to tell-but he was half-Wit-
ted and an incorrigible liar, so that
carried no one anywhere. AT least it
afforded no substance with which to
go to the authorities. Young Brooks
said he had been fishing in the mill
pond when he heard someone coming,
and, forgetting that the farmer had
oopo ouov ba urbipnad into tha htShnc
just in time to see the farmers wife
and young Ingless strolling along the
bank, their arms around each others
waist. They stopped opposite the spot
where young Brooks was hidden, and
| kissed.
He hurried home, and by that time
it was pitch dark, but not too dark
for him to recognize the man who
brushed past him like a wrath at the
foot of the lane. A tall man, with a
look of hate ON his face-Farmer
Styles.
That was all anyone had to go by.
There was a thunderstorm that night,
and deluge of rain that sent the
freshets coursing down into the mill
stream, and sent the mill stream in a
turbulent race down to the distant sea.
Nobody saw Mrs. Styles or young Ing
less for several days. At last the gro
Ger, making his round, reported that
there was no one on the farm.
When Farmer Styles returned a
week later, he gave out that his wife
and young Ingless had run away to-
gether. He claimed she had left n
letter. Certainly they were never
seen again.
But I pictured that scene after Mrs,
Semple had told me- the black night,
the storm, the lovers on the path be-
side the dam; the farmer, mad with
suspicion and hot for vengeance re-
turning, finding them; the struggle in
the dark, the scream drowned by the
thunder and the rushing water. E.
And the waters ran very fast and far.