The Martyrdom of Madeline

shine of the preceding days had been followed by a drizzling rain. The river looked black and very solemn as it slipped between its sedgy banks; the marshes, turning a white face to

the depression caused by the preaching of the past few days,

arlour at the 'weather cottage.' Alas! Joan was under shelt

leared out an hour before by Aunt Jane's industrious hands, and was carefully prepared for next Sunday. But a clear fire burned in the kitch

ake me jump!' she exclaimed, as Mad

reakfast; 'tis near time yo

s sunburnt cheek, Madeline took her seat at the

ane, where b

e Mark; they sailed up wi' the tide a

her large eyes filling with tears. 'Uncle Luk

yage. A pretty like morning to take you from your bed!-why the rain was falling and the wind blowing enough to give you your death. But if you are a good lass and

ween the marshes, and fading behind the grey mist which for ever hung about them like a cloud; and her childish imaginations had often conjured up pictures of the strange scenes towards which the great black swan was drifting. London was to her the great world, the mysterious city, so different to the

better lass, you shall never go

ally good she never failed

with me, and see the great waxwork wi' the kings a

s out of her own home. But Madeline had been content to hope and wait on-and dream over the many things she would do when at length the happy day did come. Just before Easter, however, she went half wild with ecstasy-for Uncle Luke in the exuberance of

breakfast the sadness caused by the disappointment had worn away. She bestowed another impulsive kiss on Aunt Jane's brown cheek, and takin

ane company. She found the kitchen neat and clean as usual, with plates sparkling on the dresser, dishes smiling from the walls, and Mrs. Peartree sitting in their midst with

ked Aunt Jane presently, astonished at the continual

of joy which would not be suppressed. Everything made her laugh; the gleaming dishes, the glancing firelight, the

d distressed; for s

ood. I mind the day my poor brother Jim were drowned dead-I was laughing like a mad thing

rity received a sudden check, only to

t Jane!' she said, ''tis because I'm

gravely shook her head, and a few hours lat

ain't nature for a child to laugh so-and 'twill take all the sleep fro

de the window curtain and looked out, half expecting to see the great black barge sail, like a spectre, through the hazy mist of rain. But no such vision appe

e, clapping her hands, 'make haste and come

the river, ten miles away. The wind had been fair all day and the barge had made g

k shadows all around. They had hoisted the side-lights, and now and then through the impenetrable blac

as below, eating his supper. Presently the latter passed his red night-capped head out of the hatchway

much wind, and I'm a-feared there ain't m

e shook his h

cked up nor what I be. Just you turn in for a bit wh

uld get the first spell of sleep, Uncle Mark d

ppy state of mind, seemed quite contented. He grasped the tiller firmly in his hard, h

on a bosom in gentle breathing, while the great sail flapped listlessly above, and the side-lights shone out

in the sky began to float gently on before a cold, light wind, which bellied out

e deck with his hob-nailed shoes, and in a very short space of t

e tiller; 'get the sheets clear, Luke, we mustn't lose much time i' working round;-remember the ol

is mind again to solve the great problem which had been worrying him ever since he left home-whether he

scene around him, and his hands were busy hauling in the sheets, for

er and fresher, until it spread quite fiercely over the surface of t

arlet and grey. The landscape was still dim, as with distance, and the light

eady they could see dimly in the distance, like a cloud brooding over

he water's edge-others running down-steam tugs and ocean steamers, blackening the

rge was an unwieldy sailer at all times, and now she was overloaded into the bargain. Once or twice Uncle Mark, miscalculating her power of 'coming about,' had brought her into danger,

d Uncle Mark, stooping to look under the red mainsail, saw

o keep away?' screamed Uncle Luke, for

e barge, then measured the

e,' he shouted,

ving slightly from her course she could have passed by the barge's stern-by keeping steadily on she seemed likely to cut it through the

unavoidable, when U

et!' and, with a cry,

a few inches of the tug's side, quivering through and through as she heeled over, with a thunder crash, almost wrenchin

d to his feet to find the tiller abandoned, the great boom

into the wind, with her great sails flapping usel

in horrified despair-then he saw that the tug, having reversed her engines, was close upon the barge, and that a boat which she had put out was rowing swiftly towards a figu

d open the timbers-the water was pouring in like a torrent, the barge was rapidly sinking. He leapt into the punt which floated behin

d he lay in the stern motionless, his cheeks as

e boat, abandoning his own, seized the cold wet hand, sm

e cried. 'What ails you?-don't

d-a splinter of the boom had struck him s

' said one of the men; 'see

e point of her topmast visible above the waves. But poor Luke thoug

te?' asked one of the

chafing the cold limp hand. 'And oh, mates, do take him ab

d on the face of Uncle Mark, they firmly believed it to be the face of a corpse. But after they had got him aboard the

brother, 'try and say a prayer for me.