The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1883-10-20 00:00:00

As she reached it, a blow from the serpent's tail
laid her prostrate, half stunned, in the volcanic dust.
She recovered herself on the instant, though, and
rose, seized the hatchet, and, utterly devoid of fear,
pursued the monster, whose efforts had carried it so
near to the glowing lava that her face was scorched,
and her naturally crisp hair seemed to stand back
from her shapely head.
Mary's eyes were dilated, and she stood there pale,
with distended nostrils, looking in the strangely
weird light like some heroine of classic lore ready
to do battle with a dragon, as, going close up to the
hideous re-nster, she raised the keen hatchet with
both hands above her head, and brought it down
with all her force upon one of the serpent's thickest
coils.
So tightly was the lithe, muscular body strained
over its victim that the keen blade divided scaly
skin, flesh, and muscle, a great rift opening in the
serpent's body, and the blood spouting forth in a
fountain.
The effect was instantaneous. The serpent, in its
agony, unlaced itself like lightning from its victim,
writhed like a monstrous worm, and seemed to flog
the dusty earth like a whip lash, driving up a cloud
of choking dust that almost concealed it from the
watching crowd of spectators.
At the first writhe, Mary was driven, breathless,
half a dozen yards, to totter and fall ; but she had
sufficient sense left to see what followed, and that
was that the monster, in its agonised writhings,
beat the earth in all drections with its tail, bringing
it down at last full upon the burning- lava.
There was a sharp, crackling, hissing sound, and
a vivid light sprang up, in which Mary saw that,
maddened by pain, and evidently insensate as to the
direction it took, the monster threw another of its
coils over the burning lava, w , seized it as it
were, and increased the hideous crackling and blaze.
What followed did not last above a minute; for,
as if to attack the inflicter of its hideous suffering,
held fast as it was by the burning lower part of its
body, the serpent threw itself, or else writhed in one
terrible bound, right upon the burning lava.
There was a renewal of the hissing and crackling,
the monster was seen to be writhing in the midst of
a vivid blaze for a short time, and then a faint smoke
hovered for a space over the orange flood, and not
a vestige of the writhing enemy remained.
Mary struggled to her feet and tottered to Lau-
rent's side, where he lay, scorched by the glow from
the lava.
He was motionless, and she felt that he was dead;
but as she saw his shoulder stained with blood,
where the serpent's teeth had been, her nerve
seemed to return, and, bending down, she passed
her arms round him and dragged him farther
towards the centre, before she knelt down and
placed her hand upon his breast.
"Is he dead? '' a voice whispered, hoarsely, and
Mary now became aware of the fact that several of
the frightened women had crept round her.
"Yes—no," she panted. "I don't know. Quick
bring water to bathe his face."
"Bring water ! " said one of the women, bitterly;
"fire you mean—there is plenty."
"Oh, what am I saying ? " wailed Mary. "He is
dead—he is dead!"
"And spared the tortures of slowly burning to
death," said another, sadly. "Poor fellow, he was
a brave, handsome, true man!
"How dare you speak like that ? " cried Mary,
turning upon her, mad with passionate grief. "You
loved him. You as good as own to it. He was
mine—mine only. He loved me; and now—now he is
dead!"
She threw herself with a shriek of misery upon
the prostrate man.
"Shall we take her away ? " whispered one of the
women to the other, but, low as was the voice in
which she spoke, Mary heard her.
"No, no, no ! " she shrieked. "Let no one touch
me. He is not dead. I saved him—l saved his life,
and he will live to thank me! Laurent—Laurent,"
she whispered, as she bent lower, and placed her
lips close to his ear. " Speak ! it is Mary—your
Mary calls you."
There was no movement, and Mary frantically set
herself to chafe his hands, bending down over him
in the dim light to try if she could see any change
in his countenance—which, however, remained

passive.
"He is not dead!" she cried impetuously, and the
laugh which accompanied it was hysterical in its
nature. "There, his heart beats—l knew it did!
Look, he is moving!"
The women who grouped round looked down with
a stunned air of indifference, so prostrated were they
by the sense of desolation and misery which over-
came them, and one or two shook their heads mourn-
fully at the scene before them.
" Don't—don't—don't shake your heads like that,
foolish girls ! " cried Miry, in an agony of rage.
"He is not dead, I tell you; he lives. No, no; keep
back!" she shrieked, to one who went down on one
knee, and was about to feel if the poor fellow's heart
still beat. "No one shall touch him but me; for he
is mine, and I saved him."
"Poor fellow ! " muttered the girl, rising again.
"Mary Dance, leave him now, or you will drive
yourself mad."
"Mad ? Not I. Yes, you want to get me away
that you may rob me of him; but no one shall have
him but me. He is mine—mine alone; and there
—thero—did 1--not toll you Du P He is not dead;
knew he was not."
Mary pointed triumphantly to the prostrate man,
as he wearily raised one of his hands, tossed it
aside, and then let it lie for a moment across his

chest.
The women started with surprise; and Mary, re-
gardless of their presence, bent over him she had
saved, and kissed his face again and again.
"I knew he could not die, and leave me !" she
cried, joyfully.
And now, as she crouched on her knees behind
tau, she lifted his head upon her bosom, and rocked
it to and fro.
"She's mad—driven mad with horror," whispered
one of the women.
And the whisper passed from one to the other, and
they all pressed forward to gaze in-a dazed, helpless
way at the dimly-seen group there in the dust.
"No," said Mary, speaking now more calmly, as
her hysterical fit wore off. "No, I am not mad,
unless it is with joy; for see, he is coming to."
"Mad with joy groaned two or three. "How
long have we to live I"
"I don't know," muttered Mary to herselff; "I
only know he lives, and he loves me. We should
but die together."
-,-As Mary whispered these words to herself, she
became aware that Laurent was fast recovering, and
she raised his head still higher.
It was some time before he opened his eyes, and
then he gazed about in a vacant manner upon the
group of women, tho glowing lava, and the dim haze
of smoke above his head. Then he closed his eyes
again, to lie perfectly still.
All at once recolllction came to him with a leap,
and he became conscious of the arms that were
wreathed so tightly round him.
He was weak with exhaustion; and for a few
moments his efforts were nerveless, as believing still
that the serpent held him in its terrible embrace, he
thrust at the poor girl's arms, and struggled to get
away, uttering the most excited cries, till in her
bitterness Mary loosened him, land he pushed hex
violently from him.
"Kill it, some one ! " he gasped, as he glared at
bar; and then, tottering away, he seemed to nerve
himself for one bold effort to escape, and knowing
nothing of his acts, save that he wished to flee from
that which had held him in its coils, he dashed down
the hillside right Jor the fluid golden lava.
(To be continued.)