When Dawn Came Again After the Ship Sank.

Evening Post, Volume LXVIII, Issue 128, 26 November 1904, Page 10

When Dawn Came Again After the Ship Sank.

• My friend Demoreet was a tall, wellbuilt man, ■with a smooth face, grey eyes, and blonde hair streaked with white, which enhanced the distinction of his pale, grave face — a face profoundly salni in expression, yet showing, in the deep lines about the mouth, traces of some great suffering through which ihe had lived in the past. I had made his acquaintance at a dinner, and during the two months which I spent in his home city we became friends, and were bo intimate that I always called at his rooms whenever my way took me into the neighbourhood where he lived. One evening, a few days before my departure, I knocked as usual at Demorest's door. As there was no response, 1 Softly turned tke knob, and stepped in, believing my friend to be in the inner room. 1 found him standing motionless before the firepiate, sunk in contemplation of a picture from which the drapery that usually covered it had been drawn to one side. Ib showed the face of a woman with large violet eyes and features like" those of a statue by Canova. The dress offset a neck of delicate beauty and a wealth of black hair. The painting was a masterpiece. At my entrance Demorest awoke from his reverie with a start, and turned to me with a flush on his usually pale face. Apologising for my intrusion, and explaining how it had. been brought about, I was about to withdraw, when he asked me to remain. - Noticing my quick, .nvoluntary glance in the direction of the portrait, he said simply, "My wife." We sat for a while conversing on indifferent subjects, but a deep depression was evident in Demorest's manner. At last he rose, saying : — "I fear you find me a dull companion this evening, but I cannot help it, my friend. To-day is for an anniversary. This night, 17 years ago, I lost my wife.'' I murmured the usual conventionalities^ but he interrupted me: — "You think undoubtedly that I am morbidly sensitive on the subject of a loss so long ago? The circumstances, bowever, are such that my wife's death will always haunt my memory with inexpressible horror. I rarely speak of the story, not wishing to be the object of general sympathy, but I will tell it to you. "As I have said, it is now 17 years ago. A few days earlier we been married, and almost immediately after we started for America on board the Arcadia. "The voyage threatened to be stormy, but we were both used to the sea, and enjoyed every moment to the full. . The only cloud in our heaven was Eleanor's uncontrollable fear of drowning. In the evening, when I swung myselt into my berth, she used to say_: — " 'Edward, pray that "the ship may not sink to-night." "I laughed at her, and pointed out that the steamers of the company to which ours belonged never had any accident, adding :—: — " 'Do you not see, child, that all possible precautions are taken? There aie lifeboats enough to hold all of us; and, even if .we were left behind, these cork belts on the wails would ensure our safety until we were picked up. 'Besides,' I concluded, 'I excel most men in swimming, and couid without difficulty keep you above water from four to five hours, during which time we surely would be saved. Do not bother your little head about such things.' "But she would not be convinced, and seemed oppressed by some sort of presentiment. "One night we had retired as usual. The' sew was fearfuhy agitated, and it was a long time before even I, hardened as 1 was, could find , sleep. Suddenly 111 1 was awakened by Eleanor calling. " 'Edward ! EdAvard ! What is happening?" "1 sat up §nd listened. , A dull roar filled the ship — a pounding and splashing which drowned the- noise of the propeuers. 1 became anxious, and, jumping Irom my berth and telling Eleanor to remain in the stateroom, 1 hastened out into the passage. 1 ran into a "pale and frightened passenger, whom I asked to tell me the cause of the turmoil. " 'The ship is foundering,' he cried. 'Has no one called you? The lifeboats aye being 1 manned.' ■ ■ ' "I returned to our room, endeavouring to appear -as unconcerned as possible, and found my wife in a state of terror. " 'My little wife," I said, 'the curtain rises on your long-expected drama. The steamer is sinking. There is, however, no cause for alarm; the worst that elm befall us js v a. cold bath. Dress quickly— as-jbjghtly.and warmly as possible.' ."paving dressed and fastened the cork ' beits , around us, we went on deck. "We' Had been forgotten. The last lifeboat was about to leave tie ship. We called to the crew and jumped into the boat at the last moment. "But we were too late. The deck of the Arcadia burst with a loud report, and the ship sank, dragging our boat into the whirlpool. I had only time to take Eieanor in my arms before we found oursdves struggling for our lives amid the wreckage and thundering waves. "The cork belt did good service. In the blackness of the night 1 could not pee Eleanor's face, but 1 knew from her feverish grip on my arm that she still retained consciousness. During a lull in the storm I said to her : — " 'It is only three or four hours till daybreak, and then some vessel will be sure to find us. You feel safe with me, dear?" "Her voice came to me in the dart ness : — " 'Yes, Edward, I feel safe with you. But my belt is tied too hard ; could you not loosen it? I cannot breathe.' i . \ "I began at once, .with one hand, to untie the belt, while with the other 1 held her above the water. Then a great wave rolled over us and tore her from my arms. "I dived instantly, and caught her by the hair -as she was aboait to sink, and!, carrying her back to the surface, I held her in a close embrace. She had lost consciousness did lay in my arms a lifeless weight. Nothing but a faint beating of the heart and an occasional twitching of the cold lips, against which I pressed mine, assured me that my precious burden was still alive "What a night of horror ! I was near losing my mind. My arms ached; my whole body was paralysed with cold. Several times I was sinking into the sleep of death, but ronsed myself, calling 'Eleanor, dearest, speak to me!' The only answer to my cry was the moaning of the storm. "At last a faint streak of light appeared on the horizon. I thanked God that the night was past; and, feeling my strength renewed by hope, I bent over the motionless body in my arms. "Slowly the sun rose over the water and the dawn broke. At the first pale ray vibrating o^er the ocean, I looked down into the face which had rested close to mine throughout the night. "It was that of anothef woman !" —From the Swedish.

Candidate (on arriving at Plunkville to fill an appointment) : "Are there any evidences of campaign enthusiasm here?" Local Politician : "Nothing to speak of. The other fellows hanged you m effigy last night, but I believe that's about all." "A fool and his freedom aro soon parted 1 ' remarked the bachelor upon hearing of the marriage of another friend.