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TWO WRECKS AND THEIR DRIFTWOOD
HEN the steamer “West Indian”
left Jacksonville, Florida on a trip
to Cuba and other islands of the
Caribean Sea, she had among her
passengers, Miss Lynton, of Gra
celie, Florida, her governess, Mrs.
and her guardian (who
was also her fiance) —Mr. Earl
To
—J Hinton, a lawyer of some promi-
nence. They were bound for Jamaica —their
object being to find out the truth of a report
that Miss Lynton’s father, whom for seven
years, she had supposed to be dead, was alive
in that island. He had been captain of a fruit
vessel —a small schooner, plying between the
islands and Jacksonville. Seven years ago,
after a frightful tornado, news came that the
vessel was lost at sea —and that all on board had
perished, save two of the crew. These two
men had conveyed to Miss Lynton’s mother,
the sad information, that they had seen their
captain go down with his vessel.
Two years later, Maybeth (her name was a
combination of Mary and Elizabeth the names
respectively of her tfrvo grandmothers) had
suffered the loss of her mother, whose place
had been partly supplied by her grandmother
and by the guardian appointed her in her fath
er’s will, who had faithfully looked after her
little property and had regarded her as a re
sponsibility until he grew fond of the winsome
child, a fondness, which association and her
lovable personality, had ripened into warm af
fection.
He combated this at first, for he believed the
heart of his beautiful ward had been won by
a young man —Sydney Devon —whose estate
joined the Lynton’s, and who had been May
beth’s devoted sweetheart since they were chil
dren, together.
He too, was an orphan, brought up by his
aunt —too indulgently for his good. He de
veloped a tendency to recklessness and dissipa
tion, which had caused his expulsion from Col
lege. He possessed, however, undoubted at
traction —a remarkably handsome face and
graceful manners with a dash and brilliancy
that attracted Maybeth, and might have won
her had she not learned to know the superior
intellect and sterling character of Earl Hinton.
Young Devon was furious with anger and dis
appointment when he found that Maybeth had
given Hinton her promise to marry him. He
rode over to Lynwood and vented his wrath in
bitter reproaches of the girl who, he declared',
had trifled with his heart, and of her guardian
lover —whom he sneered at as one better suited
to be the husband of her grandmother than of
herself. He knew he was speaking falsely.
Mr. Hinton, was thirty-five, and almost a model
of physical, symmetry and good looks.
After this, Sydney Devon absented himself
from Lynwood. Maybeth had not seen him
until she unexpectedly came face to face with
him on the deck of the steamer.
The voyage to Jamaica, had been hurriedly
planned after Maybeth had received this let
ter from a man, who had been well acquainted
with her father.
‘‘ My Dear Miss Lynton:
I do not wish to excite hopes that may prove
unfounded, but I can not help telling you that
when on a visit to Jamaica recently, I saw a
man whom, I believe to be, your father. He
was in the employ of the owner of several fish
ing smacks, but could only earn his food and
clothes, as he is partly paralyzed.
This condition having been brought on by
exposure and rheumatic fever. He came ashore,
they told me, after a terrific storm, lashed to a
piece of rigging. He was very ill afterwards,
and on recovering was partially disabled, and
also dull of speech and recollection. I tried
to talk with him and to get him to come to
Florida with me, but he did not seem to recog
nize me, or to understand what I said. I left
him reluctantly, and after some thought about
The Golden Age for June 27, 1912,
it, I have decided to write to you—his daugh
ter, —and lay the facts before you; which are:
I have seen in Kingston, Jamaica, a man who
greatly resembles your father and who came
ashore after a storm seven years ago. I could
not swear that this broken, individual I saw is
Captain Lynton, who was every inch a man,
but I believe you will not rest until you have
solved the doubt. I enclose the address of
the company that employs him.”
There followed the address of the Fishing
Company and the signature of the writer of
the letter.
He had conjectured truly, Maybeth could not
rest —would not give a thought to marrying or
to a wedding outfit—being all eagerness to
know if this sorrowful and friendless exile, was
indeed the father she had tenderly loved. Ac
companied by her betrothed, and her governess,
she had come to Jacksonville and taken passage
on the first steamer bound for the West India
Island.
It was a small vessel, but new and stoutly
built. The weather was fine, and when they
sat down to a good dinner at six o’clock the
day after the steamer left port, there was not
a case of incipient sea sickness among the hand
ful of passengers.
After supper, Mr. Hinton and Mrs. Hargrove
engaged in a game of dominoes, and Maybeth
went out upon deck. The moonlight was very
bright, the ocean calm. At the farther end of
the deck, she heard low soft music, the music
of a violin, and knew that the player must be
a boy who had played in the cabin, while they
were at dinner. His playing had then impress
ed her as excellent, but there was altogether a
different tone to it now —a tenderness and sad
ness that went to her heart.
At once, she recognized that he was playing
the accompaniment of the old sweet, and sad
German ballad, “The long, long weary Day.”
He had not seen her come on deck, and af
ter awhile, the music ceased, and Maybeth
heard a half repressed sob. She went to him
quickly, and laid her hand on his arm, saying,
“You seem sorrowful, little brother. I would
like to offer you my sympathy. ” The gentle
touch and the kind words overcame him for a
moment, when he could speak he told her his
simple story. He was partly of German birth.
His father, a teacher of music, had come to
Florida to benefit his health and had married a
Cuban girl. His health improved until his
young wife died of fever, then grief and neg
lect of himself brought on his old malady and
he died suddenly after having a hemorrhage.
The boy, twelve years old, was left without
friends or money. He had sold the piano,
their one piece of valuable furniture, and deter
mined to go to Cuba and hunt up his mother’s
relatives there. The captain of the vessel gave
him his passage in return for his playing for
the passengers, while at meals and in the cab
in in the evenings.
“Do you know anything of your mother’s
relatives in Cuba?” asked Maybeth.
“I know their names and that they live in
Havanna,” he answered. “They are not near
relations, only cousins, and they are few. I
must not be a burden to them; I shall try to
earn my own living. I must depend on myself.
I have no friend, but my little Snowball here.”
He had taken a white pigeon from the breast
of his jacket, and Maybeth had been admiring
it as it perched on his arm.
She said, “You have another friend—a high
and powerful friend, who has declared his love
for the orphan and the sorrowing. You have
Jesus for your friend. Ask him to help you
and to guide you. He will never fail or for
sake you.”
She spoke other words of cheer and sympa
thy to the boy, and when she bade him good
night leaving a gold coin in his palm, she said,
“I am indebted to you for your music. It has
done me good.”
By FIFTY-NINE.
She turned away and had walked but a little
distance when a man, who had been standing
near, stepped to her side. She looked at him
and uttered a startled exclamation. It was
Sydney Devon. “I have been listening to
you,” he said. “You have pity for every one
but me.”
I had no idea you were abroad. “How is it
you are here?” she asked.
“I am here because you are. You need not
think you have shaken me off, or that I have
given you up. I will not give you up. Ido
not believe you will ever be old Hinton’s wife.
Something will happen to separate him from
you —something may happen on this very voy
age.”
“God forbid,” she said earnestly. “You sure
ly do not mean to do him a harm —a man who
has never injured you.”
“Hasn’t he? He has injured me so deeply I
can never get over it. But I have not said I
intended to harm him.”
No, he had not said so, but his vague threat,
troubled Maybeth. She asked herself if she
ought not to warn Hinton, but decided not to
do this. It was probable Sydney had been
drinking and was not responsible for his words.
She had still enough friendly feeling for her
childhood comrade, and for his aunt, her moth
er’s friend, to wish not to excite needless sus
picion against him.
# # * *
Before midnight, the weather had changed.
The moon vanished behind a thick haze. By
morning the view was obliterated by a dense
fog. Slowly the little steamer felt her way
through it, blowing her whistle at intervals.
Depression fell upon the few passengers. They
could not go on the wet slippery deck—envel
oped in mist. They were grouped in the cab
in, when there suddenly rang out the cry of
“fire” —a cry of dread everywhere, but at sea
doubly a cry of horror.
Hinton and other men passengers went below
to see the extent of the danger. A fire had
broken out in the hold amidst inflammable
merchandise. It had gained a fatal headway
before it was discovered. There was no hope
of saving the vessel. It would burn rapidly.
Earl came back and in a few quiet words in
formed Maybeth and Mrs. Hargrove of their
perilous situation. He reassured t hem by say
ing, “There are two life boats, large enough to
hold the few passengers and the crew. These
will be lowered at once. Put on thick wraps
and take only your valuables.
(To Be Continued.)
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HOME MISSIONS.
Here is an outline of what one great Home
Mission Board is doing: Helps churches to
keep alive in needy communities; encourages
scattered members to stand firm in strategic
centers; supports -ministers in weak fields;
opens the way for new Sunday Schools; helps
congregations put up new buildings; “brings
about the organization of 100 churches every
year;” maintains strong work in Cuba, in Porto
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lumbermen’s camp, who distribute “tons of
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maintains a powerful department of immigra
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ture to inform and lead the Church.
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