Burlington hawk-eye. [volume] (Burlington, Iowa) 1845-185?, 1851-07-10
BURLINGTON, IOWA, JULY 10. 1851.

a eyes, already blinded by the darkness. But Mill
0 cent, bent only on one object, possessed and alb
d sorbed by one thought drew her mistress along
a though she felt her grow heavier at each STEP
A rush of hot air intimated that they had reach
4 ed the stairs. There We're only two flights to de
4 scend, when window opening on a balloon
would, she hoped, enable them to gain the garden
''Dear, dear mistress, bear up," said Mllicent
''Muster all your strength, or we are lost"
A pressure of the hand was Mrs Grantley's re
ply, and, exhausted though she was-terrrifed
stitled-she did make an effort TO descend th
J stairs. But to push through that seehing fur
mace, that gulf of fire and fog, required superhu
man strength and she felt herself paralysed.-
! Her whole weight fell on Millcent, who, thu
heavily burdened, and suffering acutelv, coule
only move step by step, while every momen
rendered the danger more and more imminent. -
They heard the devourlng element raging arolnC
with the roar and fury Of boiling cauldron
while the fall of ponderous beams swapping like
thunder, the incessant crash of fragments, ever
trembling of the stairs beneath, proclaimed its ir.
resistib!e ascendancy. The massive walls crack
ed like shells, and the carved oaken baniseI
though not yet reached by the flames, blistered
Miilicent's hand. But now half the descent was
achieved, and they stood on the lower floor
AT this instant, bright thin vapor shot like a
rocket through the thick mass of smoke; there
was ruddy and intensely vivid glare. and a whirl
OF flames leaped up the opening. The fire had
caught The stairs. 1t flew in wreaths round the
rails and balustrade, and rushed, lavalike up the
walls, while the passage below bazed, and ed
died, and thundered like the crater of volcano.
Millicent shrank back appalled,, though still
holding her Mistress, who seemed, by her utter
help!essness, no longer conscious of her situation
| MilIicent felt her own senses reeling: and her
arms were so strained, that if she had not laid
Mrs Grantley down, to give them moments
respite, The living load would hrve dropped from
them. Before she could resume her progress, a
fierce blast of fire leaped out from the vortex like
winged serpent, made her stagger aside and she
almost fell through doorway. Catching at the
wall to support herself, her hand struck a WIN
dow. which she threw up, and rush of fresh .air
! revived her.
She pulsed an instant, Just TO recover breath /;
and then, with despairing effort, darted back to
the staircase. 1t was now vast sheet of fire.
burning lake, molten, whirling sea. with
waves Of lightning yet amidst the splitting walls
ard cracking timbers, falling in shower of ash
es, il was impossible TO see where she stepped.
Where now are the upper stairs ?-wherc was
M. Gfant,ev? As she sprang forward, some
| thing 10 Iched her foot. Her heart Just sinking
within her, thrilled with new hope. new life; and,
though ready to drop, she felt for the moment the
! strength OF a giant. STOPPING, she threw her
arms around Mrs Grahtiey, aad bore her to the
! window. \ shout rose from below--a loud soar
ing sole-string sholt-lke cry to heaven.-
! They We're seen!
''Dear brave child. how nobly you have be-
haved," said Mrs Grantiey, rallied by the refresh
ing breeze. ''And now after all we must perish
together"
mo ma'am no! there is hope for us yet
! The people have got ladder, and are coming to
our assistance. We shall be saved''
A dozen sturdy and resolute men, all eager to
nterpose. brought on the ladder, and despite the
flames pouring from the lower windows, planted
/ it against the house.
'Now, dear mistress. let me raise you on the
window" said Mtllicent, ''and can then help
you down.
"And what will you do MiIlicent?''
''Oh I can reach the ladder easily. There,
| that is ii. Now vou are safe.'
A salwart rustic who had sprung up the ladder
| the terrified lady in his arms, and Mllilcent then
got ont herself, decending without difficulty, and
alighting lnhurt on the ground.
CHAPTER XIII.
Mlllicent and Mrs Grantley found shelter al
| the Vicarage. whittier, as the nearest suitable
refuge, they were instantly carried, covered with
heap of cloaks, and attended by its hospitable
| master.
The Reverend Martin Anderson was widow
| er, by no means disposed, it would seem, from
the long lapse he had allowed to occur. to take
on himself the silken yoke of matrimony. In
deed. he was in all things cautions, calculating,
prudent follower of saints but keeping his
| powder drv. In church and out. as priest and as
citizen. he uniformly maintained the same re-
| serve had the same unerring eye to temporal anil
| personal advantage Weak in doctrine. a dsci p
line of the wild creed of Geneva, he yet had the
sound discretion to keep his heteroIox opinions to
| himself and, while languishing after the New
Jerusalem, he clung but too fondly to the flesh
pots of Egypt. Yet, all this he was not
without niety, trimming and worldly though it
was, Or even charity and good nature. He had
Samaritan's love of aims and his duties, so
far as an enormous burden of benefcies would
permit, were consciously discharged.
On the morning following the fire, Mrs Grant
ley, who had sustained no injury beyond slight
cold, met the vicar in the breakfast room.
ii am glad of an opportunity of having little
conversation with you Mr. Alderson.'' she said !;
| for have something on my mind, in which
desire to have the benefit of your assistance
But to prevent msconstructon, must first open
page in my history full Of melancholy reco'lec-
tions."
..Tnen do not revert to it, dear madam" return
ed the vicar. ''Whatever your purpose may be,
| it WILL | am sure. bear its own Justification"
Il have too much experience of your friend
ship, Mr. AlderSon. to suppose for moment
that 1 should be msinterpreted by you; but per-
haps. one who has so long been my neighbor ough:
not to be ignorant of these circumstances. You
remember when | first came to reside here r.
s.Perfectlv. have grown an old man since
but twenty years have fallen lightly upon you.''
ais it so long? Yet time spent in undlsturhed
tranquility after so much grief. so much suffering,
may well seem TO have flown" And as the
memory Of those sad, weary years came back
upon her. the widows eyes filed with tears.
care not these things better forgotten. dear
MADAME" said Mr. Anderson. soothingy. "Trou-
Bile, YOU know, is our common heritage, and
though YOU may have had to endure much, yon
must remember that He who tempers the wind
to the lamb has still been very mindful of you.''
s.He has,r said Mrs Grantley, with reverent
inclination: ''and am thankful unthinking, to
repine' She paused moment, and when she
spoke, it was in a voice tremulous with emotion.
"You probably never heard, Mr. Anderson, that
| made what was called an imprudent marriage
parriase which had hot the sanction of my
family?"
81 confess a rumor of such thing has reach
ed ne; but how | can't recollect. Indeed, ru'
mors come, like the wind one knows not otwhence
and as such allow them to pass. But inter
rupt yon.'
s.No in the least. Long as was my term q
endurance. of trial, few words Will suffice fol-
nv histo.v--so far, mean. as it need be told
But will utter no more complaints. And true
it is-as know, as have experienced--out o.
evil the Father of Mercy brings good as out Of
darnkess. light. Often He chastens in pity
|, | even m love In nv own case. | know that at