“THE WRECKER’S REPENTANCE.”

Golden Bay Argus, Volume VI, Issue 72, 14 October 1897, Page 2

“THE WRECKER’S REPENTANCE.”

About seven miles from Rochelle is a miserable little suburb called “ Lalcu.” There are but few fishermen there, for the coast, which is difficult and inhospitable, is bordered by immense rocks, behind which frown treacherous and overhanging cliffs.

One morning sunrise fcund my friend and I making the best of our way along the beach, our guns on our backs, and our knapsacks swinging by our sides. After about five hours march we came to a halt just neir a light-house called “ The Repentance.” It was about the most dteary spot of all this barren coast.

“At last,” said T ,“ I see some smoke that must be from the coast-guard’s hut ; and, as I expect you are about as ravenous as I, we will descend upon him, and see what he can let us have for breakfast.” We clambered down to the little house, and were very soon eat'mg a sumptuous meal of ham and oysters, while our host regaled us with tales of the coast.

“ Before they built the two lighthouses,” sdd be, “ you could have seen on top of yonder cliff i stake planted in the ground holding an enormous lantern. An old man, Kernan by name, passed Lis time in looking after it, and so fond of it was be that his love for it was a bv-word amongst the people. It was always as bright as work could make it, and when the sky was black and waves mountains high dashed over the rocks many a sailor bad ouly Kernan’s lamp to thank for being spared from a watery grave. But the lantern had many enemies—the wreckers all along the coast vowed -rengeance when on stormy nights the vessels scurried safely past, bearing from their clutches who knows what treasures. Times out of Dumber they had done their best to hurl it to the ground, but stern old Kernan had sworn lo put i U bullet through the first who should succeed. Amongst ethers who thought themselves injured by the lamp was an old* woman whom they called ‘La Monetce.’ Surely she should have oeen the last to join the wreckers, for she had a son at sea, Jacques, whom everyone loved tor his open heart and generosity.

“ The weather had been unusually fine all the season ; so fine, in fact, that some of the men had had to take to working in the fields, vor notbine was to bo gained on the shore. J a vlonette cursed from morn till night, and oiten lid st.e shake her fist at the ‘ evil lantern,’ vhich, she said, would ruin all the poor. Soon, lowever, the weather changed and gales set in. Then the giaut waves rushed in and dashed •hemselves in fury against the towering cliffs, he wind howled and moaned, and above it all, aeyond it all, the guns boomed out at sea. Old father Kernan filled his lamp, and when he welcome light shed its rays around 'X>ddled off to bed with a muttered prayer for those in danger on the deep. “La Mouette ban watched him,and when her nance was at hand she climbed the rocks, and ffter throwing many stems she managed to break the glass in one side of the lantern, lhe rain beat in upon the flickering light, and a sudden gust of wind put it cut. At sea the cannon boomed, and when old Kernan came at daybreak to look at bislight he slipped from the rock and was killed on the spot.

' 41 La Monette ran to the beach ; it was strewn with debris. She tore open packets and dragged in the floating barrels ; but there were bodies, too. She ran from'one to the other, tearing the rings off their poor, dead fingers, turning their pockets inside out aud taking all that was of any value. Suddenly she halted over a body, felt the heart to see if it were beating, and at last fell on her knees on the shingle weeping and moaning in despsir. She had found her son—her dear Jacques. Half-carrying, half-dragging, she got the body to her hut, where she wrapped it in the warmest rugs and called to it by the dearest names. But it was too late. “ She never left the little bouse again. Some kind souls brought her food and the Cure came to see her, but nought could stay her tears and prayers or sorrow till one day they fouud her gitting where she always sat —but dead ! “ And now they’ve built a lighthouse where old Kernau’s lantern stood, and that is why t-hey call it “ The Repentance.’ ”