The evening world. Newspaper, December 11, 1914, Page 27

CHAPTER XX. (Continecd.) . The Question. . ERARRAOUGE his step had been ; | Boleclees, and though no ‘word had as yet been epok- en, the priest soon became conscious of the Indian's Prayer book exclaimed: “What brings you here, my son?” Tt Wad one of those questions which answer themselves by the tone in which they are uttered. warms the.current of my life to be mouwhere you are. In the heart of Elan mre your'friendsbip has awakened an % y echoes—euch echoes: as be has /™ heard’ awakened in the “heart of thi woods by the voice of the song hrush when the shadows have length- ° js, It is w friendship ugh as the heart of @ lonely traveller fears not to trust. {t is a friendship that can stand the tést of silent com- munton, as the forest lake ts most beautiful in its calm, Your words have »! ste Deen to me like.the m of rivule: but your silent thoughts have bless: me aa the tent of heaven. I have seen them in AY be) and they shone Tike the stare at midnight! I know * ¢hat Black: Robe desirés to lead: the ‘feet'of Rushing Water into a new { tralléa trail with which the feet of Black Robe have long been familiar. But he must know that the Indian mind loves its one way of thinking slowly. firmly in its gr an “Ie must e the treasure of the new before it will ¢ part with the treasure of the old. Old garments, though they be many times patched, are better than no ents when winter comes with its breath of fce, Old bunting grounds, though they be sorely consumed, are better for hope than the sterile sands of the desert, Old wigw must not be burned till the nsw ones are built. So the Indian wisdom. Your ing; your spirit talk But: Black must no! angry with a poor untutored child of the forest if he has many questions to ask before his feet can confidently nter the new trail which Black Robe would set for him.” ‘Do you think that I have been un- mindful of the things you speak of, sked the priest. “No, no,” answered the young man; “the patience of Black Robe has been as the patience of a squaw for the ehild of ber chief.” “Then what is the first question you would ask, my son?” “Black Robe will not be angry?” ‘Why does my son mistrust me” Leaning forward the young Indi ook in his own hand the crucifix that . bung at the girdle of the priest, and »dooking into the eyes of ‘thi -with a deep and wistful gaze, waked: + “If Black Robe will not be angry, what means this totem? There was something in the tone of the inquiry that saved the wis priest from too great an exultation; ‘something that betokened, not a mere curlogity, but a personal interest, ‘quite independent of any specifically religious intention.. Looking frankly “<fiRo the wondering eyes of the young , brave be replied: _ “Totem, you have not unwisely cafied it, my son. It stands for a family bond; but it has a depth of ‘meaning far surpassing that of any similar token with which you have : -been familiar, It is the totem of a vw world-wide brotherhood; and it rep- d sacrifice which one were cal of making that %, ‘protherhood @ real fact upon tho ‘S Leaeth.” Bhat t Bhp gph A asked placid as @ mountain the discerning ear of the priest seemed to catch the echoes of an inner ex- citement that was struggling to bri ae restraint. 01 ae ras the Great War; he the warrior whose image 1s #0 ‘wrought out—who was the young man, with face lake, though others must hang their lence and humility, and many In 801 row and shame. Does my son desire to know the story?” man bowed his assent, mit Jease Black Robe to grant it it pleoHushing Water will be happy. n interruption caused both and the warrior to glance at the quarter deck, M. Matisse was descending the companionway into his trumpet in his hand, boomed out an order to Flan d’Eau turned on heel. a Ton needed aft, Father,” he sald. “To-morrow let it be, if the time muits."* “To-morrow let it be, my son,” an- ered the priest CHAPTER XXI. The Answer. the priest 'T the appointed time Rushing ‘Water was in his place; but not too early to be wel- comed by Father Reville, with whom punotuality was cone law of weil nish sufficient im- | portance ‘to warrant’ its additioh to £ "fhe Becklogue,” The young man, truq "tS tie “Fale be, had voluntarily. sumed, Me “Tem come, Black Robe, because it started to place himself at ¢he- ened. nai in mind and heart before the of the high priesthood of one cerning whom we have met to Ii quire; for he was both priest and war- flor.” Rushing Water seemed well pleased with this remark and with true no- Yaa mien his seat beside the “Many, many years ago,” eald the latter, Yana far to the eastward of that land toward which we are sail- ing, a vil called Bethlehem, was born the mighty warrior whose totem I wear. Great Spirit his child Jesus, which, guage of that lapa and pesple, meant Sav- four, or Deliverer. He came to de- liver bis people not from the rule of @ mighty nation that had conquered them and was holding them the chains of its eervitude, but he came to deliver them and all mankind from the bondage of their sins. “For it was as true then as it ts now that @ man's most dangerous and cruel foes are those which lurk in the shadows of his own erring heart and that wait there to lure bim into their deadly ambush. And it was as true then as it is to-day that no one is s0 pitiably enslaved as he who ine eubject to his own follies and fears.” ded assent, there- tl f what had been said, and that he agreed to It. “The nigh ‘gat ni heavenly spirits filled the flood of light and . song. gon, was the song they sang over the birthplace of t it Papoose: « “ ‘Glory be to the Great Spirit who rules on high; and between all bis children on earth may there come peace and a feeling of brothérhood.' “The Papoosé grew up’ like other children; but when he came to be’ twelve years of age, he revealed, as the day dawns in th 9 was different from others; t he was held by som tle to the Great Spirit; Great Spirit had sent him to be the head warrior and medicine man of all tribes. When at last this child became a man the truth burst fully from him that he was the Gre Spirit’s own son. Then it was th he went forth in the pathway of con- quest, without elther bow, or arrows, or shield, or spear in his mighty hand; and without malice, or envy, or jealousy, or vengeance in his heart. “The flowers of the field knew him and revealed to his soul their inmost beauty; the birds of the air knew him and sang their sweetest chorus into his Hetening ear; the children of the street knew him and cheeted his soul with their laughter; good women saw him and loved him, be- cause he was ever more tender than themseives; strong men followed him and loved him, stronger than they. And these are but a portion of the beautiful things that may be sald of his life. But wicked men also knew him, and be- causg they did not desire to forsake their wickedness, and because his teachings taught the world. such ‘3 ag would shame their practices, hated him and sought his de- latter struct tion. “But he kept to the trail that his Father had set for him, fighting cru- y witb kindness, hatred with fove, d the sins of mankind with the sorrows of heaven... “Finally they plotted against him, these wicked ones who had rejected , and prepared to put him to: hi death, So they made what we call a cross; and on that they slew him,” Here the priest lifted his own shin- ing crucifix and with his forefinger traced the image of the cross. “They made his cross of heavy pleces of woad and compelled him to carry it from place to place of their false pow-wow ‘his death; he fell to the ground be- neath ite weight; it was laid on the shoulders of a passing friend and he was scourged to the scene of his tor- ture; there they bound him to the cross, and to jt they nailed him—a spike through each hand, as you seé by the totem, and a spike through his feet! There the Great Warrior hung, when the cross was placed upright, suffering untold agony during six long hours, while his own fond mother looked on with unspeakable anguish and the cruel crowd made sport of his dying. “On his beautiful brow had been placed a crown of thorns as @ sym~- bob of mockery. And in ret! for all this deepening the Great Warrior uttered not one word of bitterness or anger; but looking straight toward heaven he cried, ‘Father, forgive the they know not what they do! Then he died, and while the earth was yet trembling from the sl jock of his death the crowd began to awake and behold the meaning of their cruel deeds. One of them, himself a war- rior, cried: ‘Surely this man was t Son of Manitu!’ “My child, that death w tory. It opened to the hungry world the fathom! of the Great Father's lov done more than all things beside to make the world happy in the prac- tices of love and peace, The flowefs of human happiness cannot find thelr richest bloom’ in the icy breath of vengeance and strife, Men are not animals made to bite and tear and devour each other; men are brothel each to each—all to all, despite the differences of their customs or -the arying colors of their skin. “All are the offepring of one eter- nal and almighty Father, The cup of human happiness wilt never be filled until the whole world has come to know this wonderful but simple truth, But he who would’ wear -th totem of this grect brotherbaod and wear it sincerely must be ready to follow the Gréat hem ip the trail that led him to th$ cross! f “But teink yo y child; tha¢ death was the “Yvat warrior? | They. body to bis "96, pbe, Priseh, when the “latte, U because he was Ww toward the place, of li or re rg Wo tld Daily Magazin ep hcaar te ra cero Friday? Dee emb er 117 1914 An E.nd to Wooden Car S! (nthe) By Robert Minor Next Week's Complete: Nove! In The Evening World # in @ rock-hewn grave. But think you that the grave could hold such bet No, he burst asunder the bonds of. death, as you bave seen y Companions Cage the with ic! ey were bound to make sport for their fellows. He rose from the sleep of death, and proved to the hungry hopes of men that what you call the Hi yy Hunting Ground, and what we white brothers call Heaven is a ble: reality. He proved that the trail of life has no end! The priest paused and to his aston- ishment saw-the young -Indian dra) from beneath an inner garment a cri cifix, the very counterpart of that which hung.from his own wais' @ plece of purest crystal, beautiful specimen both of nature and rt, and it was held for a moment where its angles caught the soft rays of a declining sun; it flashed with light that seemed supernal. Rushin, es gleaming with wo it, this flashing symbol in the lap of the priest and: almost breathlessly inquired: “Does it mean, Black Robe, that this totem marks me out as a war- rior kindred to him whom thoy slew upon the cross?” For a long while the Jesuit sat speechless, examining the shining cr cifiz, The beautiful clarity of the crystal and the cunning carving of the figure of The Crucified excited his admiration, One touch of color only he saw—a reddish-brown stain running through the feet of the upright of the cross, first that his stain design, but as he exam- ined the spot more closely he saw that the carved head of the nail w not set In the stain but a little to one side. The stain was a streak of from which had somehow been in- volved in the stalactite process from which the jewel had been cut. At the prieat looked t means, my son,’ the faith- ful priest, “that we have here the suggestion of a path which I have not the wisdom to. discover. Some one who Moe, better than you know yours \ kere that one ua, could answé! ae question jn a wi that might surprise and please: us both. Do not part with this beauti- ful totem, my son; Its presence will ever tend to draw you nearer to Him who died to make you His self a knowledged brother; and it may hide in its luminous depths a secret that links you to a nobler past t'un that of. which you know or dream, God's peace be with you, my son CHAPTER XXII. The Storm. O far the voyage had pros- pered, Excopt for the head winds encountered in the Gulf, the gale had favored the progress of the Juliette and she had averaged six knots on her way across the Atlantic. They had crossed the fortieth parallel and the seamen were already anticipating the joys of shore leave in their na- tive land, when the breeze, which had steadily driven them forward for many da: lost its vigor. Instead of the firm, continuous thrust, short gusty pushes filled out the canvas, which between times bung limp on the yard arms. Unwilling to sustain the unneces- sary loss of an hour, Capt. Halevy spread more canvas as the bre slackened, The studding sail yards ‘were run out and made fast and the great wings’ stretched to catch every ounce of wind, This helped a jittle, but despite it the speed of the vessel di- minished. The breeze died with a few uivering gasps. The water lay un- ler the vivid blue of the sky with a silken smoothness. The gréat sbip qwas motioniess—she had left the Guit Mtream far to the westward and ene OO LN ART OLE RIM ny lJonger felt its impulse on ber keel. The white sails hung limp on the Ci Halevy, glancing aloft rom the quarterdeck to the Gagstaft, remarked with a grim smile to Father Reville, as he pointed to the sad rum- ple of the flag of France: “A Dutchman's hurricane, father— up and down the mast. “*Tis wonderfully calm,” the priest replied. “But not likely to be calm long, eald the captain, whose glance was sweeping the horizon. Matisse, my glass, if you please!” he shouted to his first officer. The sailor leaped down a hatch to 1m the cabin, returning with a telescope, Resting it on a lifeboat aswing on the davits, the captain surveyed the east- ern sky. la!" he exclaimed, “I thought as much.’ M. Matisse, we shall take in sails, studding sails first Father Reville, lookin, noted an obliteration o! He turned a questioning captain, “It looks bad, father,” sald the cap- tain, answering his unuttered ques- tion, “We have lots of sea root however, although I hate to run back. Even as they looked the haze in the east deepened into a thick gloom, and with incredible speed tumbling black clouds came sweeping across the blue heavens, The air was silent, a oppressive. The sea lost its blue brightness and took on an aspect of green, gray terror, broken afar off by bursts of white spume. Capt. Hi ve igh, prepared to strip his ship of canvas. “Down to the bare poles. We shall have to run for it, Monsieur Matisse,” to the cast, the horizon. oe on the 89 he sald, Matisse seized the speaking trum- pet. “Stand by to furl the topsail shouted, his voice sounding unnatu- rally loud in the deep ailence. Instantly the topsail yards were manned, and Father Reville, looking op saw the dark figure of Rusbing ‘ater outlined agalnat the sky at oe topmast he ‘With a little thrill admiration ‘he hoted the grace of the pose and the perfect self-con- fiderice that kept tho man secure on his perilous perch. Agein Matisse’s voice rang out. “Down-haul, all!” There was a rattle as the down- hau} creaked and th 11 was furled against its r. Hi umpet in his hands, Matisse was now snapping out awift, whip-like commands, under whose impulse the men scrambled up the shrouds and manned the main yards. t last the great lower ty were furled and lashed to their and the ship, stripped like a gladia. tor for conflict, awaited the onrush- ing storm, As they watched it from the quarterdeck it seemed as if sea and sky were one, the’ clouds de- 1s to form er down up- on them in its fury. ith a sud- den roar it was upon them. Capt. Halevy, gripping the and leaning forward, alert, instant of impact, and the riek of the gale rang out his command: “Hard . -le As the helm bore and the vessel, gathering life from the Impact of the hurricane, obeyed the rudder’s direction and her heel to spring forth Ii horse before the driving wind, sea arone astern, seemed to pause, 4 huge, impending, green-gray thing of terror, then broke In a fury of snow- white foam and crashed down upon the vessel. Under the blow the Juli- ette quivered like a living thing, and as the smother of foam streamed taffrail over hér staggered like a man with a broken back, Halevy,«who had joined the two seamen at the helm, held his breath for‘a minute, then aa his iB steadied and rose on the ne: t; wel with her buoyance he breath ye sigh of relief. His trumpet was at his, lips and his voice rang out again. “M. Matisse!" he called, “report to E> at noe whether any one was car- r o , he Sharp definition. answer, faint ip the roar of the ele- menta. Within a few minutes hie dripping and has been carried below,” he re- ported. “Otherwise all hands are ac- counted for. The forecastle hatch was smashed in, but no further dam- age seems to be done.” “We are not takin: water?” asked tho captain. “Not @ drop, sir, swered cheerfully. “"Twas @ close squeak,” said Hal- oy grimly, “but I think we'll weather no The gloom was intense. Halevy leaned forward, straining his eyes, but could see nothing ahead but the black ruck of the storm and the white cre of the towering waves, which now thrust them high and now buried them deep in the trough of t waters. They were travelling at fearful speed. Thunder crashes, peal on peal, furnished profound subtones for the high pandemoniac scream of rigging. Shai « uds and gave ination to t the officer an- s ugh oie ene, var illu violent desolation in which the: blindly careered. Looking forward 4 one of these sudden bursts of un- earthly light, Halevy saw a strange figure outlined against the gloom, Father Reville, clinging with one hand to the glistening forestay, his faco uplifted and his hair startlingly white in the lightning’s ghastly il- lume, stood at the very prow of the boat. His black gown againat the darkness of the storm made his body almost Invisible, but the face with its crown of white glory and the hand clutching the cordage stood out in Halevy heard an exclamation in the guttural Indian tongue at his side. The priest had taken bis hand from the stay and both hands were now clasped before him. There was a sudden fierce gust and the two hands and the white face seemed lifted into the ajr, All this occurred in an instant; the lightning glare vanished, and tho blackness of the storm enshrouded all, Looking around the captain saw the gloom thicken at his side, and a dark bulk arose from the rail and disappeared, Matisse's voice came faintly to his ears, sounding the dread cry: “Man overboard!" The captain gritted his teeth, full of wild rage at his own helplessness. he storm drove him on and on, 'wice, with the full knowledge in his heart of the utter impossibility of it, he tried to bring his vessel around, only to be beaten back each time by the staggering buffets of the huge seas and the irresistible thrust of the driving wind, At the first pigna! he had ordered everything buoyant cast adrift, and ready handa flung over the side, in a tic hope that they might be of Pp to the unfortunate, lifeboats, buoys, hatch covers—-whatever came to hand that might sustain a human body on the face of the water, Hal- evy, still clinging with his seamen to the thrashing helm, still striving to pierce the wild gloom ahead, mur- mured ‘under his breath the prayer for the dying. The tempest passed as sudde it came, A wan light shone the blackness ahead came ray, There was a final terrific shrieking rush of mighty win then @ quaver- ing wail, then silence, gray wreck tore on, the last clouds hung like stragglers in the sky, the suniight burst again upon the troubled sea, For half an hour there was a dead calm, then a light breeze sprang up, coming out of the north. Instantly Capt, Halevy ordered avery stitch of canvas sprend to the breeze and, turning on hin heel, re- traced his course over the waters. Hour after hour they sailed, a look- out at each masthead searching the wea for the lost ones, ‘The night came on, beautiful, clear, brilliant with starlight. All through the dark hours the voice of the = SM Sr pemy 9. out called forth over the eea and the Juilette gleamed with lanterns hu! astern and astem, There was no an- swering voice coming to them out of the night. The stars paled and the dawn came, and with its first gleam the lookout's voice sounded dismally from the clouds of canvas aloft as he announced the tidinga that nothi! little com: vast reac! all alone ont the captain fe up hi ope, “Ah, M. Matione,” he sald to his first officer, “those were two brave spirits that have passed into eternity. Call, all hands on deck. We ure Christian peopl nd if the priest has gone and the savage with him we shall make shift at least to supplicate the good God in their behalf.” Soon @ strange scene, which there was no human eye to see, pre- sented itself on the deck of the great ship. Save for the two helmsmen at the tiller and the lookout clinging to the topmast head, all the ship's com- pany were gathered on the deck, ‘They were rough seamen, many of them witb faces and bi brown hands covered with tattooed designs, and some of them with gold earrings glittering in the sunlight. Holding little prayerbook fn his hand, t captain strode among them. Sud. denly he sank to bit deck and instantly the aallors knelt in a circle aroynd him. Then in a deep voice read the Iitany for Wi deeper and rougher chorus the sailors gave responses, The water lapped the ship’s sides, and the bi above them freshened, filling the sails, while from simple bearts at the loss of a revered (ideo and a comrade upon whom they had be- stowed their unquestioning effection, rose the devout antiphony. “Lord have mercy on them,” read Capt. Halevy. “Christ have mercy on shemy’ the deep sea voices answered, kneos on the yo, , down . By Ralph Heary Barbour that dwelt constant Bak this huge sweep 4 human control ha cent charm. “Yea, though L walk in the vail of the shadow of death, I tear no evil,” he murmured, emi! Dimeclf with the thought that was within him « soul that could * Tide unterrified in the storm, to nature use supernatural in ite its gt A Cg y wi ed u wet, wing deck, be rea the short fowecastie ladder. Clambering bis, be lurched forward to the ‘His hand rested on tKe fore- ight boat came to a atop. ly in the murk, gleaming ii white glare. " a A minute or so he stood there, bis spirit Allied with the grandeur of it. fore him in a gesture of adoration. A p goa vA ton. steering car and Saat eagerly as be urged the apeed. They-ni ‘littie utgtt each of them ed what tenacity bad held the two mes to that frail raft, and they could t the point of exhaustion was at hand. The bow of their good boat surged through the waves, and falling, evér nearer to the tiff figures on the hatch cover. last Matisse ghouted boarsely to the straining oarsmen: at “Avast! Hold alll” yee . ‘The oars gurgied in the sea:and the” Matisse forth a quick band asd Tobe of the priest. Another and the form was lifted over the wale and laid in the bottomr of boat. Two sailors assisted Water, and soon the rowboat speeding back ‘to the siée of he Juliette, F t tumbling smoking clouds and the ‘deafening crash of its peal was in Bis ears. Suddenly he was lifted up as if invisible hands had clutched him and hurled him into the sea. He saw the ship's dafk shape rush by, saw it = @ vast wave and drop from his Qld though he was, there was in the spare fra of the fred pre valine at bldg pl nor of possi succor in that temipest, but 16 was his dui, to prolong life to the utmost, aud so, from more sense of o! tion than from physical instinct of self-preser- vation, he did hie best to keep afloat. It Lie! (igs business. pated re one tant by a ir, sucked {nto its fast Wiowing trcueh the Sext, his breath was soon spent. He felt the water close over his head. He was still conscious when he came to the surface, and, with a final sum- moning of all his remaining strength he threw up hie white head, andbis voice. rang out: “Into thy bands, O Lord, I deliver my spirit!” . Thacry of surrender spent him and the sea surged again above his nos- tril But, aa hi nk there was a tremendous threshing of the waters not far off, and his white hair still floated when a éinewy band gripped big collar. As consciousness departed, @ atrong voice sounded in bis ears: “Tam here, Black Robe,” it said. The faintness passed and reourred several times, and with each fash of consciousness the feebly working mind of the priest hi of some extraneous power keeping of phystdal pain came to him, the feeling of contact with hard subd. ff something tearing his flesh arms. With an ef fort storm was atill raging, his opened eyes looked up at a black heaven. He felt a hard substance under him and realized that {t was a plank. ‘A nail had torn the flesh of bis At the edge of the plank he eaw Rushing Water's head, and he became conscious that the warrior was clutching his robe with one hand, while he gripped the edge of the plank with the other. Leaning his for- ward, the young man tested the buoy- t. a on it, seating him- eetf beside the of the priest. ‘What they rested on was great hatch cover, one of the many articles at Halevy's com- mand, ‘The etorm passed at last, but the de it Froning ‘Water eat, his eyes search- ing the empty ocean, one hand joked in the collar of the Jesu! robe, the othér gripping the plank. The evening cauie and oight shut upon them. The sea grew . Far above them the cold stare sho ‘The lassitude following his struggle had kept the priest silent, but when the night came he @. how came my son to be in the if asked ‘Rushing Water ts * the young man ana ares. aim- From his boyhood hi such. When, the wind Father from the Suddenly, from above the billowing m canvas, where the lookout ‘clung to the erd: The men hurriedly touched with their right hands forehegd and breast, right shoulder and left, and rose to their feet, and Capt. Halevy shouted up to the lookout: at is it you see?” Tis only a speck, sir, dead ahead,” said the lookout. “It Isn't a ship, it looks like a piece of wreckage. In breathless suspense they waited while the ship forged ahead, and the speck grew larger and larger in the lookout's sight. “T mako it now, air,” he yelled down at last, his voice full of Joy, “It is a piece with two men clinging to it" ‘Crowding on every inch of canvas, Halevy hurried the pace of his ship until she bore down at last on the ob- ject which had attracted the look- out’s attention, It was a huge hatch cover which had been hurled over- board during the height of the storm. With his body stretched across tt, his Reville lay. Beside him, one sinewy hand clutching bis collar, sat Rush- CHAPTER XXIII. The Battle With Death. elemental anger found the Jesuit in the waist of the water rose astern and crashed down like a sweeping charge of white cav- clang desperately to the rigid rope ‘The onsweep of the sea dragged at the hurried waters Drenched, but unhurt, he heard Capt. Then he made his way forward in the gloom, The old man's eyes were logs hanging in the water, Father ing Water. HAT fierce, dark onset of T ship. As the gray wall of airy, he clutched a taut stay and him savagely, but he held fast, and Halevy's inquiry and Matis report, bright with interest, To the mind sh treed, there came & Cry. mi rushed by, ff ay x ui “Did nog the Father ta dsked the 'youne man, “tbat in the great brotherhood of the followers Fa) the Christ, if a man would gave his life he must first lose it? A ore sald that, oy i) Bett” sy “Tru replied ¢ priest. son is quick to grasp. But we are te to find life soon, the eternal 1 oy he added. “My son has 00 fear?” ‘The eyes that gazed down at him answered the question, With & tisfled smile, the priest closed his eas overcame him and ‘The sun was bursting the rim oe Nee a6, Wee he awol It light a vast lonely ocean, The priest gazed at bis companion, who sat rigid, bis jaw act, and the fie intentness of one who fighta off in his eyes. “Yon must rest,” said the priest. He tried to raise himself, but sank back. The effort made his head swim. came upon him, Several reason awoke he saw that grim figure, with the tense set fea- fures and the eyes that fought against . ‘The sun beat down on them, prie#t seemed alone in a world yellow Nght that closed in upon him. It wa ‘vague, flickering, con- tracting circle of consciousness, but dominating it ever was the set, strong face of his companion. At last even that grew dim. Suddenly he felt the grip on his collar tighten and heard the warrior’s voice: “Courage, Fathe age, I nee a mail.” CHAPTER XXIV. The New Life. UICKLY the davit swung outboard, and y manned was the lifeboat when the creaking tackle dropped it on the sea. Ma- tag in the stern handled the it sald, “Cour- scjows Defeats ee The cabin to . ais S oem one 6nd Ne him afloat. At last a sense {, nd son, but of the apirit,” the Father Roville was carriéd Gp the short side laddet and deposited @m the deck. Clone bebind bim came atereg- — ” cuer. As the young man stepped om | the deck Capt. Halevy athim — keenly. For an thstant warrtor, stiffened his splendid form and: steod erect, then his.limbs began to trem<- ble, The sinews softened, his red. blazing eyes glared aroynd wildly his hands reached ob¢ with a him @ queer, from the oi man and he s 1 Reet at 1g to the ly bis sreremales round him and liftti ried him below, minutes before 8 acon. ray ie ral + formed the single article of in the cabin. It was com} ent that Father covered consclousness om the to Rushing Water it a incoharent _conaciet with phantoms. Hisamased: stoed around him as be tossed im hammock, ready to him bi ) eer threaten and their faces sl suddenly his voi rise fe gules exclamations in the J ngu « at the captain explained + 1 iene ROU ca Ral | concern i s out of the berth. ae” i +h “No, you must not do i f captain yams are oo weak. le very, tion.” play. But the Jesuit etandi hand on the bulkhead, to self, shook hie head. y eaid, “Aye, mind clears. Your arm, Must go to him. ly ick ‘ed aa ri his neck in a earrings dan; amall eyes looked out of a face upon whieh. was thing for btm. > 1 hear, wild raving ry tongue of his. Somet.mes he & baby, sir, and sometimes he } out like a-feet commander.” The priest took th pallor by ite ‘ofthe s a} latd a band on the of rer. I wo Rar 8 ptain, . we bim in my bald. “Let him be ad father! You are ig 4 jough'’———- the captaim See _ ‘Strength is not of the '. 4 swered, “and the God who strength to battle with the de give me what strength I need* ‘They carried the young mam Ca; i the priest's small cabin and % in the berth, There Father who, like many of the miss his order and of bis day, was @ sician as woll aa « priest, nurse him back to health. Col from over the side he (.) he in buge buckets, and wit! y bathed the form of the sick Y the cooled blood gave “th BS vitality of the young warrior. ham to feht. It was @ long stru: and nearly two weeks rf the priest dared to rim reaper had been owing by strain under which he was more almost transpa se Ha paige most transparent! tg orning seemed to sleep wi Ze distress showing in quive f tures and tossing, Soe y “Good morain, sailor in a