Newspaper Page Text
PAGE SIX
In fact, only one
novelist could
have conceived
so remarkable a
tale. And that
novelist is Eden
Phi ll posts.
' Now. <ion i think that, ray i*>oi 1
maiden I wish It wan But t hare ban''
mu latter writing in the itreve. A man
neither send* nor receive* ’em In the
l»lt. An’ tl* not the worai thing on
you ran nay for death that It puts
you beyond remit of th< penny-post—
not to name telegram* You innnt
make up your mind that Daniel Ik- In
the heller land with *alnt* an' anaeln
grand. Thin hero I* from the 'Vent
tndtrn c the rum come* from an*
If tho plate tie an comforting an thu
drink, then 1 make no doubt people
do very well there. For ruin punch
la a glorious brew to make the heart
and liver new. But. If you ax me,
thin letter la from Mr. Henry, who In
in them parte He wan a clone friend
of Dan'* an' hi* wu* the gun that
done the driadful deed when death
to Adam Ihoipe did apoed. l-ord!
how full I !»• of rhyme tonight! 80.
very like, he* wrltteu In hi* gentle
manly way to comfort you "
Mlnnla'a honom panted and nhe pul
her hanu upon it to hide the nwlft rl*<
and fall. Right well aho knew thin
Mr. lleer wan wrung . and though the'
superscription of the letter spread In
a scrawling hand wax quite unlike
Daniel's, yet her heart saw through,
he envelope and she felt that the let
ter waa 1 1 out her husband.
"Let nte have it." she aald. "I'll j
tell you what * tu tell tomorrow."
“Why not read tt now?" he a*ke«l j
na he handed the letter to lit r.
"Time enough. Now take the pony j
an' thank you. an' good night.
Boon kbu Wa* alone, and Mlnulej
a.e no supper that night, for another
norl of leant, awaited her. Bhn read
the long later thrice from end to end,!
then. Hading that the hour waa nine
o'clock anu the flreleaa cottage had
grown very cold she went U> had and
read the Jeter three ilnie* more by
candlelight After that the eandlu
suddenly went out, ao she ruddled her
aoft honom to the pages Hnd slept
with them sgnlmit a happy heart.
CHAPTER X.
Dan'* Latter.
'My own. dear. pr*tty»*y*d wifi
"Here I he an lase us you could
■wl*h, with many » mile o' salt water
betwixt me anil them aa would harm
me. A mighty lot of terrlhl# strauge
thing* I've seed; hut flr*t I mual any
■« I got to Plymouth *ll right and
met a chap *s wanted a sailoiman.
1(* took me, hecause ho couldn't get
it better, and we nailed out of Ply-'
mouth on the \ury next tide. My ahlp
be railed the 'Peabody,' She'* a
at earner—not mueti to look at and a i
lK»r one to go; but here we are any -!
way; aud I be writing to you from
Tobago—an laland In the Went lnille*.
where ua get brown sugar aud cocoa
nut* aud auoh like foreign conirlv .
aaeea.
"I'll begin at the beginning. well 1
knowing how you like for thlug* toj
l*e all lit order and nhlpahape, ua we
aay. Wall, the food'a cruel bad and
the ablp'n undermanned and under-1
engined, but wo'ui Juat on the windy ■
aide of the law, 1 believe, which la all
you can expect from a tramp like the
Peabody.’ The old tuau t Skipper* 1*
a vary good nort and everybody like*
him; aleo ..e mate, llkewiae the
boaun Everything* all right, iu fact.!
except the grub and the engine*. 1
be the carpenter* mate
"Ua »e*d a good few of the won
iter* of th* deep coming out over, but
It blowed * bit off the Axore* (which
you can And In fgther'a big map of
the world), and we took It green. By
which I mean thl* veaael shipped
aolld wave* over her bow* and we
had to alow down, elae we'd have
gone down. The engine* be good for
nought in a head-wind. But we got
to Barhado* at la*t. and 1 ttnd tl*
railed Blm for shortness In (he
dtmpsy light ua (etched It. but out
hero twilight turn* to nigbi while the
clock's atrlklng. and afore wc ca*t an
• her 'twa* dark aud the laland lying
like a »ea monatea. with a red light on
hla note and g white ou hta tall—
. gaU <u:*v» I mean Bridgetow n it
an whvta ua landail part of ottr
cargo —a pl»c« with windmill* pon It
•■d tilled land and m;ic* of etuff, «*
Daniel Sweetland
A CHEAT AMD FASCIMATIMG CHARACTER CREATION
■■■■■— (Ccpyrlg J t, 1906, Elian Pfullpnth. All Right! Rtfrvadj ■— ■■ ■ ■
! made me think of home, ao green H
waa; hut 'lla sugarcane when you
,itc«tn up to 11. We didn't bldn tu Car-
Hale Bay long elan J'd have wrote
'from there, but we waa ao terrible
busy 1 hadn't but one chance to laud
The folka bare he every color you
could nnin" between while and black
through all manner of ahadca Of antllf
(color, and butter color, and putty col
or, and peat color, t’heerful, laxy
devil*, aa like to laugh and smoke
and chew augar-caue all day. Hu'
■they properly hate work. Heckle**
mongrels. I should say they was; hilt
In Him a man don't get any show un
less he've got a touch of the tar
brush aa they say That means nig
ger blood Such a way a* they tell!
I never heard English Hpoke ao comic
In all my born days Their clothes he
built of ventilation mostly, and I
never seed such a show of rags, liar
badoH la mafic of coral, hut t'other
Islands are volcano*, and they've a
nasty way of going off when you least
count upon it.
"From Carlisle Bay you can see
white house* under wooden tllea alt
1 scoreed gray by the *un heat, and
In tho *tre< a a great crowd goes up
and down In the blazing air and shin
ing dual. Such a noise and clatter
I never did hear Mules squealing,
bell* ringing, bauds playing, nigger*
bawling. Tho woman ail wear white
dresses and gay 'Urban*. They’m
amazing straight tu the hack, owing to]
carrying all their goods >m top their
heads. They sell < oeoanuta. r.me,
plncuiiph a, oranges, limes, mangoes, j
va.il*. pickles, and t/dd know* what j
licaide. ’lacy stride out beautiful ow
ing to their short petticoats, but their
mouth* be a caution. The children
look like little chocolate dolls, and 1
much you'd love 'em The policemen i
all be dressed lu while. They fancy
themselves an awful lot. The plga run
about tile at reels and he fur all the
world like greyhounds (what we call
long dogs to home). The climate's
that fiery that you'll never get no
*toek properly fatted In It. But. you
don't feci no call for much red meat.
We got fresh water and green atuft
aboard here, and how 1 wi*h I could
have *ent you no dinner yesterday.
1 hud tlvliig-tlah and sweet potatoes
and green.skinned orange*, red a* gold
Inside, and many other tine thing* a*
would mako your little mouth water
to hear tell about. But ihe mangoes
ia what I like beet, though they do
say out hero they lie no better than
a HIl of tow dipped In turps Han't
true, I assure *e. 1 got off for two
hour Just afore wc set sail, and wunt
jlnto the country, (lapsing round to
see what 1 could see And If I didn't
come aero** a great mango tree as
poured to me to he Just a foreign,
wild tree alongside the high road
Well, 1 seed the fruit iu It, an' thinks
11, twill he a fine thtng for the *hip.
So up 1 goes, hand over flat, but not
before I made some nlger* atop throw
lug stones tip at the tree. Well. 1
shinned up aloft and began flinging
|down the ntangoe*. and the wretched
nigger* holocd out. 'Hood Mass*!
Mass* brave! Maasu no frightened
ob nobody!' Then suddenly there
was a mighty lotnl harking and up
Icorned a yellow dog *n big «a a eulf,
and the nig* went off for dear Ilf*.
•Him coming Ma»*a' Him running
like de debltll. sal'!' they shouted out
as they went; and then a big chap
i arrived at the bottom of the trot* amt
began giving utc all tho low and the
prophet*. I do a sure e. Kor It hap-
I toned to bu hta tree
"'You tiof. ©ome down! ooino down
and my dog ho tear vou I catch yon
at last! it all olter wld you now!’
" Not much.' ! said T han't com
ing doam to lx* tored by a ihteky hulk
Ins dog. John.' tie calls all niggers
j John 1
" You a tlef and you take to gaol.
*ar 1 no go till you come down,’ ho
,sa>s
"And I hnowed as my ship would
sail In two hours or loss!
Now list to roe. you black ass.’
I says 1 thought this hero was a
wild tree —as anybody would. You
'ought to stick your nutuo ou Uu> tree.
And 1 ban t a 'hie! and it >ou call mo
oil**, 11! breiß your fat ficad. Just
I take the dog and tie him up, then t*lt
(come down and u'll have a hit of a tell
I about It.'
i '"You tlef uiy mangoes! You
lodge In de gaol!' was all be could
think of. Ho f told him not to lie
such a tarnation fi*d.
'"There's our mangoes on the
ground,' 1 oald. 'l'll give you a boh
| for 'em, and If I bear any more about
lit, 111 apply to the governor to have
' your beast of a dog shot.'
" A Imili—a hob. Mass*!' he says.
j'Dat'g different, ear! I'se too sorry I
spoke so rude to massa. A boh! Go
borne, you damn dog!'
"Ho the dog cleared out and I
corned down and glved the heathen
hi* shilling, and took the mangoes
and marched off to the Careenage, and
I Joined my ship. But I'd paid a lot
too much money, of course.
"Next morn tu got to St. Vincent—
an Island that runs tip Into the sky.
like s Dartmoor tor, only 'tit* a lot
lager and the sides of un he all cov
ered with palm* and savage tries.
The town lies spread at sea level—
all white and red —and the forest
slopes behind with flue trees. Some
lof them was blazing with red flowers.
| A pride of the morning shower failed
] just as we got here, and the rain
flashed like Are. Them was a rain-
I bow iu It, and I never seed such a
1 bright one afore. The caps of the
'mountain* was hidden in clouds, hut
the sun touched 'em and made 'em
'*ll rosy; then It *wal!owed 'em up
.and < I rawed 'em Into the biasing blue.
! There'* t'arlb Indian* to Ht. Vincent,
[and one Carlh he worth flvr nigger*
;whcn it conies to a bit of work.
| They've got a queer sort of religion.
I'm told, though not so queer aa the
I negroes. The niggers’ religion be
(called Obeab, and the Obi Men be
lawful rum customers. Missionaries
try to stop 'em and their goings on,
hut Obi mysteries still happen snd all
sorts of devilish deeds are done in
secret.
I "1 never knowed a place what smell
ed worne than Kingstown, St,*Vin
cent. Farmer Cbowus muck-heaps
a fool to It. Niggers he the saute
here ns everywhere—a poor, slaok-
Iwltted lot. If you want to hoc work,
you've got to go and look at the
iCoolles In the sugar factories, or the
U'urlbs. Among niggers only one In
a hundred work*. T’other ninety-nine
look on and talk aud give advice. But
they lie men and women all right,
though our bosun, Jim Bradley, say*
tis generally thought they haven't got
no soul*. St. Vlucent lie the place
where arrowroot comes from. After
that we wont dowu to next laland. by
name of Qreuada. and seed u
long row of rocks sticking out of tne
sea, which be called the Grenadines.
They are scorched up places—just
splashes of yellow rock against the
blue *e*. but folks dwell In aorne of
; 'em and on aotne live nought but the
wild goats and pelicans. The fishes
in these seas fight like hell, and be
always a lashing the surface with their
fins and tails, seemingly. A flying
fish do put me In mind of nt'self. for
|he’s always moving on. If he bides iu
the sea. barracudas aud other chaps
go for him, and when he comes out
;for a sail In the air. the birds are after
him. Then the swordfish go for the
porpoise* and the sharks go for every
thing
"Hfeiiada l«* a bigger place than St.
Vincent, and very wild up on the
mountains by the look of it. AH along
the sea run* a strip of silvery stud,
and cocoanut palms almost dip In the
water. Aur tub called here and there,
and I seed wonderful fine goyles and
eooroba running inland, all full of
blue air and forests and waterfalls
a-tumhtlng dow n off great crags In the
mountain*. Tis an awful savage Is
land as was throwed up by volcano*
out of the sea once 'pon a time, and
will be throwed down again in like
manner sooner or later—so Jim Brad
ley say*.
Grenada be a wonnerful brave
place for nutmegs, which you might
not know grow ‘pon trees like almond
itrees. There tie male and female
trees, aud one male goes to every tyn
‘female*. A tine thing, even if you
THE AUGUSTA HERALD.
Seventh of The
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| wa* a tree, to have ten wives—so
1 Bradley says! But I only want tine,
■ and that's mv dinky Minnie, so brave
and so lovely,
"St. George. Grenada we stopped at
for a week, and I seed a gerat deal of
ine place. They've got a lunatic asy-
Imu and a klluk there; and they want
'em Isith. Niggers often go mad, but
It han't from overwork, that I will
swear.
"The King of the Carlbs lived here,
hut be was a poor fool and believed
the French. They glved him a fewr
botlea of brand? and be glved them
hla island on conditions But of
[course they broke the condltlou*. And
pretty well all the Carlbs died fight
ing. The last of the king's men jump
ed Into the sen and was drowned
I rather than give In.
•:'The market would make you die
of laughing. I'm sure. Never seed
‘such a elaiter of business even to
Moreton on a Haturday. Such a row !
.You'd think the wealth of the nation
.was changing hands, but you could
] buy up the whole lot pretty near for
thirty shilling. But a gay bit of col
ored scenery, I promise you, with the
women's turbans all a-bobbiug. like a
million colored parrots. 'Tts a very
fine place for coeoauut palms also.
The little young nuts look like giant
acrons lu long spring*. I wreut to a
nigger man on business and met with
some mighty strange sights in hi*
1 gardn. There wa* land-crabs lived
then, and a tame tortoise, and a nttr
j scry of young coeoauut trees and n
| nursery of young nigger* also, for the
; man was a family man and had a lot
of little people. 'Dat my youngest
darter,' he said to me, and pointed to
a little maid playing along with the
lizards and thing* and dressed the
same as them.
•' 'A very nice darter too.' I said to
bin.
'Hat my sou ober da»," he said,
‘and cat ray uext youngest son. and
deni gals eating dat ahaddockdey j
twins.'
‘‘l told him I never »ed a braver lot
o’ children, aud theu he went In his
home and fetched out hla wife and
Ills old father and hi* aunt. Aud t
praised the lot and told him what a
; terrible lucky chape he was; and he
' sot so pleased that he gived me lmlf
i a harrow-load of fruit.
"There's a lake luland bv the name
;of Etaug. and the niggers say how the
Mother of the Bain lives homc-along
with us in the Cranmere Pool 'pon
Dartymoor. But they wouldn't be
lieve that! Anyway their Mother o'
Kain belongs to Obeah, and she 'em
an awful stroug party. 'Tis a wisht.
silent place she do live In. all hid in
palms and ferns and wonderful trees
blazing with flower*. They do say
witch comes up out of the water of a
moony night to sing: hut I don't know
nought about that. I d go and have a
look and see If 1 couldn't tee! a trail
here and there; but there han't no
game worth naming In these parts,
though Bradley tells me they've got
deer In Tobago. If there he, I'll bring '
some pair* of their horns home to ’e
to stick over the doors to Hangman's
Hut. How ldo wish I was there: but
; han't no good coming hack yet awhile,
aud when I do. us will have to bo aw
ful spry. I wonder If you've found
jout aughff—you or Tttua? I dare say
| such a clever man as him have got
wind of the truth afore now. I be
bringing home some pink coral studs
for him You might let him know it,
if you please. 1 suppose they've
gived back tu.v gun to you? They
did ought to, since uo doubt every
body thinks 1 be dead. If you be very
pressed for money, sell the gun to
Sim; but not if you can help It.
"Mister Henry Vivian be in Tobago,
and I hope as he'll suffer me to have
speech with him some day soon
Twould he a tower of strength to get
him pon our side. But such a strick
jler a* him and so quick to take a side
and hold to It—he may he against me,
and. If so, the less 1 see of him the
j better,
"Bnt I must tell about Trinidad
‘while my paper holds out. Wo coated
You Should Not Fail to Read
DANIEL SWEETLAND
PHIILPOTTS FAMOUS ACTION NOVEL
• ■
Cut out the Sections as they appear in the Herald and save them to read at your leisure.
to It after Grenada, and a very fine
place it Is. And a very terrible sight
1 seed In tho court house there, name
ly, no less than a nigger tried for
murder. The Coolies he shoiMent
Itered people and often kill their
wives. Then the vultures And 'em in
the sugar cane. But niggers, though
they talk a lot. never kill one an
other as a rule. This chap had *hot
a tax-collector. and the black people
lu tho court didn't seem to take It
very serious; but the jury fetched It
In murder, and he was sentenced to
be hanged. I'm sorry to say. My
flesh did creep upon my boues to hear
It, for it might have been me; an 1
them words I should certainly have
heard but for my own way of doing
things after they took me. The nig
ger stood so steady as If he was cut
out of coal. A good plucky man, and
went to his doom like a hero. It took
three judges to hang him. They sat
under a great fan In court to keej
'em cool. But all three growed aw
ful .tot over the job. Tho people
thought 'twas very hard on the man
and so did 1.
"They’ve got a pitch lake here, an •
there's a lot of business doing, and a
racecourse and a railway.
“At Port o' Spain I met the rum
miest human that ever 1 did meet.
'Twa* in a drinking-place what me
and Bradley went to one evening.
This here chap was bar-keeper, and
his father had been a Norwegian, ami
his mother had been a Spaniard from
Haytl, and he was born in the Argen
tine Republic, and he said he was an
Englishman Swore It afore all com
ctb! I's told the man it couldn’t be
*o —according to the laws of nature;
and ho got his wool off something
teaching him. He said he was Eng
lish lo the marrow in his tone*, jud
we proved he couldn't he, In good
sailor language. Then he said that
cruel, anti- cussed iu five languages,
and axed us who the blue, blazing
hell we thought we were, to come
such trash as us wasn't going to be
heard afore hint: uud then we got a
i.t short, llko (though not in liquor,
that I promise you) and told the man
he waa no better than something or
otitles mongrel—like everybody else
in foreign part*. After that glasses
got -ying annul and wc slung our
hook back to the ship. But it shows
wnat fools men arc, - reckon.
"The Coolies put all their money
on their wives. And I'd do the same,
as well you know. But they don't do
It in a manner of speaking, but real
ly and truly, for they hammer all
their silver money into nose-rings,(
and bracelets, aud armlets, and leg
lets, and their females go chine-king
about with the family fortune hang
ing to 'em. like fruit to a tree, f seed
a lot at a sugar factory nigh Saint
Joseph— a little place out over from
Port o’ Spain. One estates there
done very well, but. others was all
falling to pieces and the machinery
all rusting and no business doing at
all The air in a busy factory smells
of sugar, and the canes be smashed
between steel rollers, and the juice
comes out in a stream, like a moor
brook. Then they set to work anti,
after a lot of things have been done
ito this here juice, inqluding toiling,
It. turns into brown sugar. And the
‘remains be treacle, and the crushed
cane is used for firing. They also
make rum out of sugar-cane, and very
cheerful drinking 'tis. The Coolie
girls he awful purty—so brown as my
Minnie, witn dark eyes that flash. But
they keep themselves to themselves.
[They wouldn't, keep company or go
join walking with a sailor man for the
I world. And their men folks be very
-short aud sharp with them. One gal
S was singing and scrubbing a floor
I when I oatched sight of her. All in
red she waa with silver bangles on
her arms, and wonderful glimmering
eves, and not a day more than thir
teen year old. 'That’s a puty child,'
I said to .lint Bradley. 'Child be
i damned,' he said in his short way.
j ‘She's a growed woman and very like
got a family.' The truth is that thtti-
Ibe grandmothers at thirty. But I've
only seed one purtier gal in all nty
born days, and that's niy gal.
i "All the machiuey in Trinidad be
: worked with cocoanut oil. 'Tis n
i very funny smell, but you soon get
j used to It.
“Our next port was Tobago, and
here we shall hide for a goon while
and let. our fires out and have a go
at t..e boilers. This letter will go oft
from there to you. and I do hope and
trust as it will find you as it leaves
me at present, my dear wife. Ban t
much good for me to ax you to write
the news, because you wouldn’t know
where to send it. But I hope afore
next year to be out that, we'll come
together again and your poor chap
will be proved au innocent tnau.
“I'll send you three pouttd from
hero presently and another leicr
along with it. If there's any good
news aud the charges don't run too
high, you might send a telegram ou
getting this letter to Boh Bates.
Steamship "Peabody," Bridetown,
Barbadoes.' We go back there in
three weeks and shall he there afore
you get this. I he 'Bob Bates’ now.
aud shall remain so for the present
till . can be Dan Sweetlamt agalti
without running m.v neck in the
rope.
"Lord save us, hut how I do long
to be squeezing my own true wife!
Awful rough lurk we'vo had. bu :
there's a better time coming. Tell
mother and father aH about me. bn?
make 'em swear on father's old Bible
fust that they"ll name it to none else.
They ran hear bits of *hi - letter, but
not all. I'm sending you twenty
thousand kisses. 1 wish to Uod I
was bringing 'em. thing I done
jat Trinidad was to cut your name and
i tame on a sj;eat aloe leaf in the Bot-
anlcul Garden when nobody's us look
ing. And over ‘cm I scratched .two
hearts with a arrow skewered
through through They aloe leaves
live for ever. I'm told, so our names
will bo there for people to see long
afer we be dead and gone. I hope. But
that won't he for a mighty long tlm*
yet. jil-aso God.
"I may say that I've growed a bit
religious since we parted. Han't
nothing to name and won't make any
difference tu my feelings to old
friends, but you can't see the Lord *
wonder* iu tho deep without growing
a bit. thoughtful like. And If by good
rhuucc I ever get hack to you and
stand afore the world clear of the kill
ing of poor Adam Thorpe, then 1 shall
be a church-goer for evermore—or
else a chapel member which you like
more at present from your faithful
husband till death.
“DANIEL SWEETLAND."
CHAPTER XI.
THE LAST OF THE “PEABODY.
FATE. It seemed, had ordered a fin
ad fleeting happiness for the lonely
young wife before her sun was to set
In sorrow. For a season the glow of
Daniel's letter clung to her, warmed
her heart, and lighted her spirit. Nor
did she hide the news from all. Dan
iel's parent heard much of the letter,
as he directed, uud Maunie trusted
Mr. Beer and his wife with the news
also. But nobody else heard it.
Then, as summer approached and she
already began to count tbe days un
til another letter might reach her, a
crashing grief fell upon the woman,
and all her future was changed. Hope
perished; life Henceforth stretched
forwarded into the dreary futurewith
out one ray of light o break its dark
ness.
For a moment in her shattering sor
row' even the truth itself seemed no
longer worth discovery. Nothing mat
tered any more, for the end had come
Even while she was reading his lett
er, so full of life and hope, the hand
that wrote it was clay again; and un
der circumstances the most awful
his little vessel and all thereon had
perished.
When Titus Sim kept his appoint
ment and brought himself to Hang
man's Hut that Minnie might sew a
ye..ow button upon his gaiter, she
had some ado to hide her splendid
thoughts while she worked for him.
From the first she had studiously hid
den the truth from Titus, nor did she
speak a word of it now.Hig prescence
always made her heart cold and
hard; for as she thought of the past,
his action grew more and more clear
to her. He nad laid a deadly trap
for Daniel, and Daniel, trusting him
better than anybody In the world,
had fallen headlong into It. Whether
Sim was actually present at the death
of Thorpe, Minnie still knew not; but
that he was familiar with the circum
stances and that he had on the night
of the murder fetched Daniel's gun
and placed it ready to he found on
the folowing morning, she felt assur
ed. His purpose was to gain herself.
But what to do at. this Juncture she
did not know. She dared not sum
mon Daniel home as yet, and she
dared not impart her discoveries to
any other. Then happened circum
stances that made all vain and turned
revenge into a thing too mean and
shallow to pursue. After the an
nouncement of her husband’s death,
the perspective aud significance of
life were altered. For long days she
moved listlessly from h*r bed back
to bed again. Sleep only had power
to comfort her, while yet the over
whelming tragic truth tortured each
waking hour. Sleep nightly she wel
comed as bite would have welcomed
death.
In this strange fashion came the fa
tal news to her.
Sim was accustomed to bring books
and newspapers upon the occasion ol
his visits, and in a daily journal, at
the time of that awful event, tele
grams appeared of the volcanic ca
tastrophe that had hurst upon the
West Indies, had shaken St. Vincent
to its heights, ami overwhelmed much
of the unfortunate island of Martin
ique. Chance ordered the intelligence
upon the day that Sim had fixed for
his formal proposal, and her eyes
were actually fixed upon the “West
ern Morning News.'' where it lay
speatd over her table, at the moment
that the man was asking her to marry
hint.
"I can't hold It in no more." he sain.
You know right well what I mean
I've been patient too—God knows
how patient. Oh. woman, don't tor
ment any longer. Kor God's sake sac
you'll marry me. My life’s one cruel
stretch on the rack as it is. All I've
done to get you you’ll never know.
You’ve been the one thought and hope
and prayer and longing of my life
ever sine I first set eyes on you. and
now—now there's nought between us
—now—Minnie! Good God—what'*
the matter—what bav e I done?"
Ho broke off and leapt to his feet,
for she had fallen back in her chair,
and an expression of great terror and
! horror had come iuto her face. She
had only heard his last words. The
woman did not faint; but for a mo
ment she was powerless to speak.
! Her emotion hail robbed her check
of blood, and made her dizzy. In re
sponse to his cry she pointed to the
sheet before her. He glanced at the
Ion? Reuter telegram and then noted
'he brief paragraph upon which she
kept her finger;
"Among the ill-fated vessels that
went down with all hands was the
Knglish steamer. 'Peabody' (Nailer &
Co.), li is reported that she attempt
ed tq-steam out. of harbor, but was
overwhelmed and sunk in the awful
I convulsion from above and > below.
Ever) soul on board perished.'’
MONDAY. NOVEMBER 12.
"What is this to you, or to me
What do you know? Tell tuc If
can do anything." cried Titus Him.
"Every sou)—every soul,' she said
quoting In a strange voice unde r h*
breath. "'Every soul,’ Imt It neant
'■•very body.' The souls have gont
hack where there's no hopes nor feari
nor sorrows. But hi* tody—hi* de*
body—ail—*ll perished. 1 can t rea<
jno n ote. Do -* it gay 'all'?"
"That awftd thing In Martinique
Yes, they In- full of It at the hotin
and full of thanksgiving* that I
wasn't. Tobago that was smitten. But
you, Minnie—wnat Is thi* to you?"
"Death," she said. "His death
and his death he mine the death of *1
that's best In me—the death of all '
, kept alive for him.’’
"For —for—you don't mean youl
husband? Not Daniel Hweetland?"
"He wa* on board her. 'Twas U
her he went and In her he sailed. 1
only heard it a though.more than a
month agonc. Heard It under hit
own hand. He wrote ine a letter.
And now ."
"There might be another shin o(
•.hat r.anii But how mttci; this
means! And you could hide it aU
from me! And I thought ’’
“You thought he was in Walt shaft
Gully. And now he Pea in a bigger
gr&ve than that—my Dan—.[riven
away to die. Mar God remeinbe-r tho
man who mined my husband!"
For once Him was shaken fro t his
power of ready speech: for owe bis
tongue seemed tied. The tremendous
nature of this event made him jower
less. Yet at the bottom of his bewil
dered mind lurked joy. The thing he
had toiled to bring about appeared al
last accomplished without further
possibility of failure. Doubt no lonp
er existed. Sweetland was now dead
indeed. He concealed his thanksgiv
ing an<| began to mourn. No more of
live lie snake, but strove to find con
solation for her in religious reflection.
Dry-eyed she stared from him i o tbe
newspaper, from the newspaper hack
to him. Then she bade him leave her.
and he went but, stopped at the pub
dous news to Mr. and Mr*, ueer
lie house hard by and told his trimen-
They, who knew the secret of Dan
iel's disappearance, were stricken
with profound sorrow, and scarcely
had Sira proclaimed the truth before
lane Beet hurried bareheaded from
the house and ran to her friend
“Poor young woman!” groaned
Johnny in genuine grief. “wh|at a
world of ups and downs and [hopes
and fears she have suffered, to
sure! To think as one pair of g-m*
shoulders he called upon to carry such
a burden. There's nought, to be done.
Only time can help her, an' maybe
you."
"To think." said Sim. "and l rwa*
that moment putting marriage Wore
her! Another moment and she must
have told me she was a wife; and
then it c. tight her eye—staring from
the printed page—that she wa* a
widow,"
“She told us the secret, and I made
a joyous rhyme about it; hut what's
rhymes to her now? Yet I’ll do one.
and this day I’ll do It. for many’s the
poor broken heart as have sucked
comfort from a well-turned verse
else why do we hare hymns? 'Veil. It
will come back to you, Titus. For my
part. I could wish as Daniel had died
to home where first we thought he
did. A sea death he so open an’
gashly. For my part I'd sooner have
gone down Vitlfer mine shaft and
know my bones would bide In the land
that bred 'em.”
"Well, the mystery -will be all out
now. No doubt be visited her that
night he gave the policemen the slip.
'Twas hard I should never know the
ecret. for I'm stfre Daniel would hare
told me afore all the world."
“She’ve only got his memory now,
poor lamb; an’ that won't keep her
warm of a winter night. 'Twas or
dained you should have her. no doubt.
But you musn'i ax her till the tears
be dried. She'll weep a lot. Turn and
twist as you may, death will grab you
some day. The appointed time comes
round as sure as the sun rises. Pig o’-
man, each has his span. There's
verses rising up in me, Titus, so )
won't keep you. What was the name
of the poor hero's ship? D'you cal! it
to mind?"
'l'lte 'Peabody,'” answ»ered Rim:
then he departed w-ith stfang*.
thoughts for company.
In truth Titus had much ado toj mar
shal his ideas. He stood edactlv
where he believed that he bad stood
from the time of Daniel’s disappear
auce, but the fact that Sweetland was
only now removed from his path bv
death startled him not a little. He
hardly realized his fortune. la hi«
mind was a dark cloud, for that Min
nie should so carefully have kept her
secret from him meant mischief. She
had not trusted him with the truth.
There was a reason for that, and the
reason promised to be ihe reverse of
pleasant. Sim had been deceived by
Minnie's attitude. Without attempt to
blind his eyes, her steady and friend
ly demeanor had led him to suppose
that she at least was well content in
his society: that she trusted him: that
she bore to him the regard due to her
husband's first and favorite compan
ion. But she had deliberately chosen
to keep him in ignorance not only of
Daniel’s safety, but also concerning
his actual existence; and this reserve
caused Sim a great deal of painful
surprise. Surely tt indicated that
Daniel's widow did not rust him; and
for that distrust a reason must exist.
'titus perceived that much depend-
upon his future attitude. To win
her absolute confidence would nqw be
necessary before there could be any
I further talk of love. He rans i*ed
Continued on page threa- 1