The Union and journal. [volume] (Biddeford, Me.) 1858-1882, 1860-10-12
LOUIS o. COwAN,
VOLUME XVI.
Wistellaneous.
THE STEP UPON THE PATH

dwarfs and giants, enchanted ladies and val
liant knights; and every now and then, q
she paused to turn leaf, or make some mer
nv comment, the murmur Of the wind anon
the branches of the old elms around tn
house came family to our ears, and made th
inner comfort more intense. could not Sc
the cheerful room, or the shining freight, o.
the bright young face of Elsie Russell, or m,
mothers smooth, white forehead, and clear
thoughtful eyes. although could rcmembe
them well, o! how well, Of old. nigh
never hope TO gaze on any ofthese thing
again. Yet, was happy with that eleal
voice falling on my ears, and that tiny hant
resting on the table, 50 cl)se that coult
touch il with my hand, Us ! did. now and
then, by accident. was often very misera
BILE; but just then could have said, had
been called upon to do 50, that sight wa
nothing when compared with such a home
and such mother, and that il was better tc
be led about, and read to by Elsie Russell
than to be independent Of aid, and unblesi
BY such a sweet friend aud comforter. In q
word. had forgotten past and future, and
was living only in the present, when astep,
one that had never heard before, broke up
on the quiet Of the little room, dispensing II
utterly-sO il seemed 10 me ut least. The
Others scarcely noticed it.
There is strange footstep upon the gar
den path, said, and spoke suddenly, with
an unquiet fluttering Of the heart, and an
underlined prescience Of sorrow, for which l
could have given no reason, or rather, for
which was ashamed to give one myself.
1T is Tom, my dear; sent him out upon
a message before dark said my mother kind
ly.
1T is not Ton, mother. have never heard
that step before, | persisted.
1t Is Tom in new boots. What stranger
would grope his way through the wNods, to
this out Of the way place after nightiallT
laughed Elsie.
BE quiet, Paul Blair, and listen to the
story, as you value my appreciation. The
knight is about to deliver the enchanted lady
from her thaldom. Attention.
Ere she could resume her book, however,
a loud peal o; the bell announced the fact,
that the step OF which we had been speak
/, ing, and 10 which had been listening all
the while, had assembled the porch; and in
, another moment Elsie read irom card which
the servant handed TO her, the name and title
Of Doctor Claymorc.
|, Whom met at the Irvings last week.
IL believe mentioned him. said Elsie, in
a somewhat confused explanation. 'Show
, the gentleman in, Dinah.'
The strange step fell upon my ear once
. more. Across the hall, up the stairs To the
parlor door il came thence, smOthcrcd by
the velvet softneSs of the carpet, into the
room itself, and there paused, very near me.
heard that alone of all the other sounds ;
words Of welcom and introduction whi, b
accompanied il. Only when all was quiet
again, and all were seated, could bring my
, , self TO listen to the voice Of its owner, and
/ try 10 discover, in my own way, what hc was
, like. A handsome, gentlemanly man, with
that peculiar, dashing iranEness Of manner
which captiyates all women and men, and a
, voice clear and firm enough to match his step
this was what made of him. That he
was in possession Of intellect and refinement,
and that he could, at least, express excellent
sentiments, was evident from his CONVERSE
ton. The man of all Others TO charm Elsie
Russell, thought, and following this, came
a long train Of other thoughts, wrong and
selfish beyond measure. knew them to be
50, and vet could not drive them of. My
head ached and burned intolerably beneath
their weight, and fingered for my opportu.
nifty TO slip out unperceived. AT last heard
their voices rccede to the cool open air. l
knew the path by heart. and feeling for the
little pailing fence, turned my steps towards
a small building spoken Of rarely, and then
in whispers, by the members OF our family,
and sew. and sometimes would fall asleep
among the cushions, curtained by the float
as the burnt summer-house.'
viii tell you story ofthat burntsummer-
house. Ii was momentous ono to me ut
least.
Elsie Russell was an orphan. In our rich
er and happier days, my mother had adoptei
her. was many years older than the child,
and she had been my pet and plaything from
the first hour Of heT arrival. was not blind
then, and many long holiday l spent in
amusing and circssing the shy little beauty.
to whom kindness had been an unknown
thing until she came among US. with my
. own hands planted vines around the bare
walls Of an ancient summer-house in the gar.
den. and fitted il up with cushioned seats and
tiny tables for her express delight and here,
/ on hot, midsummer days, she loved to read
ing vine branches.
One afternoon had left her thus and gone
, To fish by the water side, my mother being
away upon visit There was no one in the
house but a stupid black servant and partly
that she might not be disturbed. locked the
. door of the summer-house, and placed the
key IN NV pocket before started. had
not idled away half an hour when, casting
! NV eve in the direction Of our house, saw
, faint blue wreath Of smoke curling up into
, the air. As watched il, il grew denser,
and I felt assured that IL came from some
, burning building. Trembling with appre-
beusion, flung away nv rod, and made with
all the speed could muster, toward the spot.
dreading, scarcely knew what.
How IL ever happeued, no ono knew; but
ere reached the garden, the truth was too
evident. the summer-house was in flames,
and Elsie was fastened within its burning
, walls. sought in my pocket for the key
. vainly. had lost il. o. heaven what
: feeling Of despair came upon me a. reailred
: the fact. The black woman stood near wiring
{ Ing her hands and screaming helplessly. The
!, nearest house WAS q mile or moro away
q There was no mortal aid at my command. l
' prayed to God Tor help. and no Strengthened
me. The building was ofstrong, well. .scason-
ed wood, but stove with all INV strength
|. against the door-how long knew not; II
, seemed to me an age-but at last, Just as the
flames scorched nv face and threatened 70
\ envelope me in their red embrace, the door
\ gave way, and, staggering in. saw my dar-
ling lying upon the rude bench. aud bore
her forth unscratched, unhurt, from out tn,
frery furnace. But in coming out, had tc
force my way through sheet OF lurid flames
. remember that Il scorched my forehead and
/ darsled nv eyes; but became unconscious
, and when I recovered, found myself lying
. with bandages about my head and eyes, upon
! A soft, cool pillow and heard through th.
-t:.h s>ox,nd .iaener than any