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ing, and his feet were flying. He plunged along was moving quickly. He dared not look into until he reached the mass of briers. They tore her soft eyes. his hands where he thrust them out to open “Won't you go out for a promenade on the a passage. They tripped his feet and pulled veranda ?" he said. him to the ground. But he fought through The walking-space was crowded, and they them, impatiently and fiercely. And then he found two chairs. He wanted to say somereached the road. He turned into it on a run. thing, but his lips were treacherous. They falHe ran until his feet were weighted with lead, tered and stumbled over the words. He was and his lungs were choked. Nobody could comparing himself with Strong. The editor see him, and nobody could hear him, and was brave and reliant. Strong would ask Bess he waved his arms and burdened his lips with to marry him before she left Bar Harbor. He oaths. His ear caught the muffled beats of knew that, and he felt a pang when he rememhoofs pounding in the dust-covered road. bered that this was the last night. If he could There was the hum of wheels before him. only make his lips say what he wanted them He crushed himself against the bushes at the to confess. It startled him when he thought roadside to let them pass. They stopped, and how every one fancied that he loved Eleanor. a light flashed in his white face. Phil's kindly He looked at the little Miss Hardeservice in eyes were peering into his. The great Colonel, a frightened way. She was very quiet. Sudwho had been crying, even as the wagon ap- denly he bent over. Three words, and he was proached, “ To the rescue!” was tugging at trembling fearfully. Something in her eyes and his torn hand.

in the way her hand fluttered sent a flash of “ Fred, old man,” cried Malcolm—“ Fred, courage through him. The words came forth how did you do it?”

of their own will. Strong smiled faintly. He turned to Mal- When they went back to Mrs. Hardeservice, colm and gripped his hand.

Bess's olive cheek was tinted with a soft color. “ They are n't going till next week,” Phil Strong was not about, and Eleanor had gone whispered in his ear.

up-stairs to her father. Mother and daughter “Great God!” cried the Colonel,“ the boy followed her. Bess, like a shy child, entered the is hurt. He is bleeding all over. Then he room where her father and Eleanor sat. The opened his lungs.

pink in her cheek had not faded, and her eyes “ Back to the hotel !” he roared, and the were soft and liquid. The old soldier's face was wheels went spinning toward Bar Harbor. down between his hands. Eleanor sat erect, a

little pale, and her eyes were feverishly brilThey were all dancing. It was the last dance liant. of the season. The perfume of crushed flowers Bess went up to her father and curled her was in the air, and there was a hum in the room arm about his neck, so that her hand rested on which arose above the music. You could hear his cheek. The Colonel sighed. Eleanor had words of farewell, light laughter, and pretty just told him that she was going to be married compliments. Malcolm and the younger Miss to Strong. His first thought had been of Bess, Hardeservice fell out from the moving throng, and the shock stunned him. Bess crossed the and went over to a corner where Mrs. Harde- room to her mother, who was smiling softly, and, service sat admiring her two daughters. The leading her up to the old man, knelt at his feet. Colonel was not there. He was up in his room He was kissing her as they told him the truth, framing a letter which would assist him to dis- and Eleanor was pressing his great hand to her count his pay in advance. Strong and Miss lips. The old Colonel sobbed like a great boy, Hardeservice were promenading the room, and then smiled through his tears. Malcolm, Mrs. Hardeservice, and her younger Strong meanwhile was smoking a cigar bedaughter kept their eyes on them. They were fore going to bed. Malcolm came up to him. a handsome couple. In Miss Hardeservice's He felt guilty. The editor greeted him warmly, cheek was a bright color. Her lips were parted over-heartily. He was elated, and his manin a half-formed smile, and her eyes sparkled ner showed it; but he had the disposition of under the light.

a conqueror. He felt that he could afford to Strong's face had a light of reckless daring. be generously kind to his friend. They had Both tall and fair, many eyes followed them. both striven for the same prize, and he had won; Malcolm, watching them closely, showed in all honor to a noble rival who had lost. his face how he envied the fire and spirit of Malcolm was embarrassed. He could his friend. There was a look of hunger and scarcely believe his good fortune. He had discontent in his dark eyes. The younger Miss beaten a more able man, a man whom he loved, Hardeservice saw it, while she watched her and for whom he felt sympathy; and yet he sister. When Malcolm turned to her with a could not grieve for the other. It was fate that guilty start, she was slightly pale, and her fan he should succeed over a better man. He

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wanted to strengthen their friendship before “ Poor old Phil! how shall I tell him ?” the blow fell which should try it. He did not thought Strong. “ It will be a great shock to know how to begin.

him.” Strong handed him a cigar, and tried to look “I wish I had Fred's courage,” Malcolm serious. Malcolm's match sounded loud and said to himself, “ so that I could break it to out of harmony.

him." And the two smoked in silence.

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HE arm of land called the East- of the birches in sunlight; farther away, tall

ern Point, stretching out from elms line the old fort-road. Grass meadows the town of Gloucester and stretch up toward the hills, and gray rocks jut forming its harbor, possesses from the green. Over the meadow thence to more attractions for one fond the sea are blueberry-bushes and rich furze,

of the sea than does any other changing with different seasons, making a brilplace on the coast that I know. Its shore to- liant carpet in pleasant weather, or softly toned ward the sea is protected by an armor of gran- into grays when clouds hide the sun. Then ite that breaks the force of storms, and within comes the delicate fringe of pale-green seaits shelter ride safely at anchor great barks grass, changing at another season into a golfrom Italy and Spain, the fishing-fleet, and pic- den yellow. All the gamut of color exists in turesque coasters, with their deck-loads of hay rich profusion, from the deepest to the highest and timber. In the background rise the for- tones, tempered generally by the blues of the eign-looking towers of the city, and at its ex- atmosphere. It is a place in which to live and treme point is the old Eastern Lighthouse. study, like some of the old towns of France. Opposite, guarding the other side, is the rock My dog and cat take walks with me, and we of Norman's Woe, and stretching back toward enjoy them together; for Nature tempers us the city are the dark Manchester Hills. brutes into reasonable beings, and we find

It was this intimacy with the sea that led me content in her society. to make the Point my home. I moved into a From the high land on the middle of the farmhouse, a comfortable building of the Ameri- Point the shore stretches off to Thatcher's Islcan country type, surrounded by great birch- and, with its two needle-like lighthouses, and trees,a row of which stretched along the sea-wall down the coast on a fair day the eye can make across the lawn at its back, and beneath which out Plymouth : one of real New England faith I have the whole harbor spread out before me. and enthusiasm can almost see the Rock. You In front of the house lies the lake, bordered by take in the whole sweep of ocean, horizon, and old willows and covered with lily-pads. Be- sky. The vessels lie anchored at your feet in yond the lake are Brace's Rock, the cliffs, and still waters, and the town nestles comfortably the sea.

in the distance. One afternoon I was watchAlthough life on the Point is lovely enough ing the schooners sailing out on their mackerelin summer,— I know of no place in the North trips. All sail was set, even to the great staywhere there are more song-birds,—its real in- sails high up between the masts, the wind being terest and beauty begin in the autumn. In fair from the northeast. Two or three coasters spite of its bleak exposure, it is warmer than were at anchor, with mainsails up to keep their Boston or Gloucester itself; the air is bracing, noses pointed toward the wind; the sun was of course—and such color! The trees around shining, but far down toward Marblehead the the farm-house are of all colors, from the dark sky was black. One or two schooners anchored green of the willows in shadow to the silver near shore were taking in their canvas, a sure sign that the barometer was falling. Another, bad weather, when I was rigged in oilskins pointing out under full sail, came about. The and carried a lantern, it served only as an apsky and water in the west had turned so dark a petizer to a snug evening before the fire. One purple that the usually brown seaweed showed night in February I had gone as usual for the a golden yellow. A lull came in the wind, mail. The air was heavy with moisture; the night allowing a dull rumble of thunder to roll from very dark and still. The glare from the town Manchester; a vivid fork of lightning shot made the atmosphere brilliant in that direcacross the sky with a splitting shock, and a tion, and the yellow lights of the vessels were low-lying yellow cloud of dust rose from Mag- reflected in the calm water almost to my feet. nolia. The wind was starting from the west The only sound came from the booming fogwith a rush; all the ships were brought up to horn on Thatcher's Island. A gentle wind meet it; and sails were coming down with a sprang up, ruffling the reflections, and brought run, a brilliant, uncanny white against the in- across the water to the ear the sound of a band tense black sky. The schooners were almost playing in Gloucester. human in their panic as the fierce squall That was the only time I remember when broke and the rain came down as though the loneliness became oppressive. The music was heavens had been ripped open.

not of the classic order, nor of the quieter kind, Such storms seldom touch the Point; tear- dreamy and soft, but of the real city Germaning in from the sea, they pass over the harbor band sort. I smelt New York, heard the abomtoward Annisquam, and in as short a time as it inable street-cars, saw the carriages driving fast takes them to come up, they have swept out to a dinner or the opera with a bit of white again. Then the sun shines out against the something inside, and I felt homesick. The clouds piled up in the east; the vessels pluck hoarse whistle of a steamer offshore interrupted up fresh courage, and are again on their the music and my memories. Then the fog-bell courses, or have come quietly to anchor. The sounded at the Point, and a white cloud of great arch of a rainbow stretches from north steaming vapor poured in from the sea and to south, and the day dies in a glowing mass rushed past me over the harbor, blotting out of splendor. As the stars appear faintly through the lights, the water, and everything but lonethe deep blue, the riding lights dot the harbor, liness. My wretched lantern kept company

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the green of a new arrival creeping slowly to with me on one side, and my ghostly shadow her berth ; then come the splash of an anchor, clung to me against the mist on the other. The the rattle of a cable; and night is bere. trees dripped big drops that seemed to crawl

Some evenings, when the wind has died in under my sou’wester and down my neck, away, leaving the air damp with heavy dew, and the salt air was fishy. That bad music the quiet of the harbor is often intensified by had upset my contentment. a chance noise. The cry of a man on shore A winter's gale is always good and enterhailing a schooner to send a boat for him will taining company, and a walk to the lighthouse only make the quiet doubly still. One has an sure to be exciting. The harbor is crowded instinctive desire to go out and tell him to hush. with craft, coasters tugging at their anchors, The road along the beach was my regular even- burying their noses in the heavy southwest sea ing walk, to get the letters and New York paper. that rolls across the harbor. The more graceGenerally it was a pleasant one, and even in ful fishermen courtesy to the black lighthousetender and to the high, white steamers bound to which they must be clinging, and it becomes to Portland and Nova Scotia. Far out, many too real to enjoy. I turn to go home, almost another craft under reefed foresail and jib is pitching headlong in my haste. I know absomaking for safety, sinking half-mast deep be- lutely that it is all imagination, yet as a great tween the heavy seas. Seaward the cliffs are souse of spray comes pounding upon my back pouring cataracts of salt water inland, the very I do not linger. That last dash seems almost an waves seeming glad to get ashore. A great evidence of contempt on the part of the ocean, angry, gray-green wall gathers together, and, and as I scramble into the furze and bushes as the back-wash runs out, piles up, and then inland I have very little breath with which to hurls itself onward with dull thunder— to rise give a sigh of relief. The farm-house looks in a cutting mass of spray as it tears over the wonderfully cheerful as I pass the stone woman rocks. As darkness comes on, you climb over of Eastern Point standing grim in the gatherthe slippery stone to a safe place, watching the ing darkness, and as I take a last look at the ocean getting blacker and the rising columns rising and falling lights of the harbor my dog of spray more ghostly; the shrieking wind and welcomes me into cozy comfort. The wind the noise of the waters sound like the cries of has risen and brought driving sleet, that dread men cast away. I can almost see the wreckage of sailors. The house trembles with the shock

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