THE STORYTELLER.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LII, Issue 339, 15 March 1910, Page 6

THE STORYTELLER.

FOR HER SAKE. THE STORY 01'' A XOBLE SACRIFICE It was a wild night, and a furious gale from the north-cast was sending the spray over the dill's on the Banffshire coast. Round the harbor of the small fishing town of Portsoy the entire population stood huddled together. Anxious faces, tear-streaked faces, and a few grim, stern-set faces might he seen amid

the throng. Sometimes the crowd was hushed and still; sometimes the silence gave place to an excited babble of voices, or was broken by the hysterical wail of an overstrung woman. Above all sounded the wild shrieking of the wind and the thundering roar of the billows as they dashed upon the outer harbor wali or upon the rocks around. The fishing fleet was returning home. On such a night it was impossible for the smacks to live at sea; there were but two alternatives —to be wrecked upon the rocks, or "run the harbor'—i.e., to let the boat run freely before the storm and steer straight in through the harbor mouth. A cool head and a steady hand, with, perhaps, a little luck, meant safety; a trilling error of judgment, the miscalculation of a few feet, meant almost certain death. It was little wonder that on such a night mothers, wives, sisters, and brothers strained their anxious eyes to pierce the twilight which was closing in upon the tossing sea. On the top ol the outer wall, close by the harbor mouth, a girl was crouching. It was a wild spot for anyone to choose. Often the spray dashed over her; the hands with which she clung to the outer edge of the wall were blue and numb with the cold. The wind had shaken free her hair, and it streamed .wildly behind her, Yet the look in her eyes shewed that she felt neither the cold, nor the wet, nor the wind; her whole soul went forth eagerly, anxiously, into the darkness. Two hOats had already arrived in safely, and now a third hove in sight. For a few moments the girl's heart beat tumultuously; but soon she recognised that it was the one she looked for. Still she watched it with a curious interest as, borne on the crest of a gigantic wave, it came swiftly on. Ere long she could distinguish the aged fisft» erman, Benjamin Bolsover, standing calm and collected at the wheel, His keen eye was fixed on the harbor mouth and his hands held the spokes with a grip of iron. . On came the boat with breathless speed. The crowds on the'shore quivered with excitement as they saw it dart towards the harbor mouth. Then a cheer rang through the air as the wheel was whirled round and the boat swung safely into the haven. Ropes were quickly flung out and made fast, and ere one could realise it the danger was over. A strange little scene followed. Old Bolsover, as he left the wheel, paused for a moment, doffed his great sou'wester, and, raising his eyes to Heaven muttered a few words of thanks to God! The watching crowd was awed into an impressive silence, which, however, soon gave place to shouts of welcome and congratulation.

There were two persons by whom this incident passed unnoticed. The one was the girl on the outer wall, who already was staring out again over the ■water; the other was a young fisherman irom the boat which had just arrived. As soon as the boat was safely moored, he had leapt ashore, and, having avoided his relatives and friends, was already making his way round the outer harbor. ,Tn a few minutes he had clambered up beside the girl. -"Carrie!" he shouted in her ear; "Carrie, what are you doing here?" The girl started and looked round. "Oh, it's you, Austin," she said carelessly.

"Oh, I'm all right," she answered. "I've been here for an hour already, and I mean to stay until the 'Devilfish' comes

"You must be mad," he shouted, to make his voTcq heard above the noise of the gale, which seemed to increase in fury each moment. "You can do no good to s nyone, and you're doin' a lot of harm to yourself. Why, you must be drenched to the skin. Look here, Carrie," he cried, almost angrily, as his words appeared to have no effect, "I've come out here to take you back, and you must come. \ou are simply courting your death by staying here." "Never mind what I'm courting. Austin Andrews," Carrie replied. 'l'm here and here 1 shall remain until the 'Devilfish' conies in." "And I say you shall not," he retorted. "I've come out here to fetch you, and come must.'' "Come 1 must, must I?" and even over the roaring of the storm her voice sounded scornful and indignant; "and pray, Austin Andrews, what right have you to talk to me like that?" For a moment Austin was silent. His voice was hoarse and trembling when he spoke again, with his mouth close to her ear. "Carrie," he said, "it's a strange, wild place to talk of love; but you know i would give all 1 have m the world to have the right of taking care of you." The earnest passing in his tones made the girl's face soften a little; but her reply was firm. "I know that you say you love me, Austin, and I wish —I do wish that it wasn't so. 1 have told you often—far too often —that it can never be." Andrews was silent for a long time, and a look of gloomy despair settled on his face. At last, however, he roused himself. "Anyway, Carrie," he persisted, "J can't see what good you're goin' to do out here. The 'Devilfish' will come in all right. You know your father's the best skipper ill the town." "My lather?" said Carrie. "My father's not out to-night." "Not out! Then who " He stop-

ped short suddenly, starting as though | somebody had struck him a blow. Grad- \ ually he realised what it meant. "Car-, rie," he shouted, hoarsely, "is it Ben.! you're watching for?" I There was a strange wistfulness, almost an appeal, in the girl's voice as •she replied, so quietly that Andrews I scarcely heard the words: I "Yes, Austin, it's Ben Lomas that I'm watching for.'' ' I There was a long silence; both hearts' were too full to speak, though with far; different emotions. Austin's frank, wea-ther-beaten countenance was hard set as he stared vacantly before him. "Carrie," he said at last, "I know Ben's ,a good sort, and I promise you if you'll come away with me now, and he comes in safely to-night, I'll never bother you again as long as "I live." The tears in the girl's eyes were not all due to the wind and salt water as she replied, in a trembling voice: "Thank you, Austin. You're a good sort, too, and--and—l'm sorry. But I've made up my mind to remain here till the 'Devilfish' comes in, and neither you nor anyone else, Austin, will turn me from it."

"At least, you'll let me watch with you, then?" he asked, trying to speak cheerfully, though his heart was aching. "If you wish, Austin," she replied. And the two stood silent, straining theneyes to pierce the darkness which was erery moment becoming deeper. For half an hour they stood there, and often the hardy fisherman wondered how Carrie, sturdy girl though she was, could endure the wind and the icy spray which ever and anon dashed up. He dared not, however, he knew, raise his voice in protest again. As he glanced at the girl so close to his side, he realised with pain how far she was removed from him. Though he had often been rebuffed, he had never until to-night given up hoping that a love ? . so strong as his would one day be rewarded. As be looked hack on the last two years of his life, and remembered how he had been toiling, toiling, with the single aim of earning enough to give Carrie a comfortable home, he felt that there was now a great blank which could never be filled up. At last their vigil was rewarded. Out of the darkness there suddenly loomed the figure of a ship. On it came with the white foam washing over the deck, and at times hiding it almost from their view. It was some minutes before Austin could recognise its outlines, and then he shouted: "It's the 'Devilfish' this time right enough, Carrie."

But Carrie did not answer 1 , Her heart was heating wildly now, and her temples throbbed, with anxious excitement. As the boat drew near, the pair, reckless of the danger, leant further over, despite the buffeting of the wind, to watch its approach. "Bens al the wheel," shouted Austin a little-later.

Carrie nodded without speaking. And as the 'Devilfish' swept on it seertied evident that the steersman had her under wonderful control. Ben's quickeye darted ever and anon from the harbor mouth to the waves at his side, often by a quick turn at the wheel to right or left evading the onslaught of an angry breaker and keeping the vessel directed'towards her goal. Suddenly, when the boat -was only about thirty yards from the harbor mouth, the two figures on the outer wall caught Ben's eye. He looked at them •keenly; then smarted violently as he recognised who they were. In his trepidation he let the wheel slip from his hand, and that moment's distraction spelt ruin. Ere he could recover command of her, the "Devilfish" had pitched with a loud crash into the harbor wall.

Heedless of danger, with a horrified scream Came rushed down the steps which led to the quay below, Andrew following close at her heels. As they scrambled down the steps they saw Ben thrown forward by the shock. As he tried to regain his feet the boom swung round, and, striking him on the head, swept him over into the water.

For a moment Ben's head was visible! above the trouYed waters, then he sank beneath the angry foam. I "Oh, Austin! Austin; save him! save him! He's drowning!" cried the girl,J her eyes starting in terror and her iaee j ashy pale. \

"Save him! For Heaven's sake save him!" the distracted girl shrieked again in agony, Clutching at Austin's arm. Austin looked down at the seething cauldron beneath him, and hesitated. Then suddenly gripping Carrie by both \ hands, he shouted in her ear, "For your sake, Carrie, I'll try," and the next in- 1 stant he had flung aside his sou'-wester and leapt off the quay. As the girl watched, she at last man-1 age'd to distinguish the brave fellow's head above the turbulent 'waters, and she gave vent to a sigh of relief as she .saw that he was clutching something. He was swimming on his back, and held the unconscious Ben by the shoulders. It was soon evident that the fight was to be a hard one, however. Utterly worn out by twenty-four hours' constant work at sea, and weighed down by his sodden clothes, Austin Andrews could hardly keep Ben's head and his own above water. Ben, stunned by the blow from the boom, lay a helpless weight in his arms. Yet he struggled on desperately, and inch by inch won his way towards the quay-side. Carrie, seeing how matters stood, hastily climbed down the perpendicular iron ladder to the very water's edge. "Here, Austin, here!" she called, in a high, clear voice.

Austin heard, and redoubled his efforts. In a few minutes he had almost reached the ladder, but his strength wa3 now exhausted. With a last violent struggle he thrust Ben's Aiody towards the girl. Leaning out as far as she could, she just managed to catch Ben by the collar of his oilskin. Then the brave Andrews' hold gave way, and with a choking gasp he sank beneath the ■water. >

"Help! Help! Help!" shrieked Car- j rie; but help was impossible, for in his exhausted condition the untorlunato fellow was at the mercy of th; surging billows, and he was seen no more till his lifeless body was washed ashore two days later. She herself was ipoworless. With one hand she clung to the iron rung of the ladder; with the other she held •fast to Ben's collar. Then help arrived, and strong arms lifted the girl and her unconscious lover into safety. Hot drinks, a warm bed, and tender care soon restored Ben Lomas to consciousness, and in a couple of weeks he I was out and about again, little the i worse for his narrow escape from a I grave in the ocean.

All this occurred nearly two years ago, and now, on a Sunday afternoon, a

youug fisherman and nis 'wire stroll arm-in-arm through the quiet streets of 'Portsoy. The villagers nudge one another and smile in a kindly fashion as they see them turn up the road to the cemetery, which lies at the back of •the town. The couple, on entering the cemetery, invariably pause before a certain grave. The girl (for shv> is still little more) stoops to place a wreath of fresh flowers on the mound. The fisherman's eye is moist as he turns away, and, clasping the hand which lies on his arm, he mutters half to himself, half to the girl by his side: "Poor old Austin, he was a good sort, and it was for your sake, Carrie, that he did it."