The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1865-10-16

pieW IN utlul gusts, sometimes rising into per-
feet fury as If it meant to be heard above all
other sounds, and anon, dying away in low
shuddering means like the lament of lost
spirit.
The rain, which had held up for awhile,
now fell in torrents and the pedestrian whose
homeward way led to the suburbs of the busy
town, found it difficult to distinguish one OBJ
ject from another so intense was the darkness
Out in the cold and rain, facing the pitiless
wind that nearly took away her breath, a young
and delicate looking woman quickly threaded
her way through the almost deserted streets
till she came to one where dwelt the poorest of
the poor people of W. Down this dreary
street turned the young woman, but with Wis
ible shuider. She quickened her steps as the
sound Of loud laughter and coarse, profane
language fell upon her ears. Partly, to screen
her face from the cold wind, and partly, to shut
out all evidence of her rude surroundings, she
had drawn her hood closely around her head,
while her thick veil just allowed her to see
her way, and for these reasons, she did not
know that she was followed till rough hand
was laid on her shoulder, and mans voice
said in quick petulant tones:
"Where away now. my beauty? I've wait
ed for you to come back these two hours, Miss
Clary; and Pm not the man that's to stand pa
tienty and be fooled in this manner. Will you
go back with me, or shall have the pleasure
of escorting you to your residence"
mo; cannot return with you, John Ly-
man; neither do desire your company home,
SO you may release me at once, if you please"
"Thank you. 1 didn't much expect you
would desire it; but it often happens in this
world that folks can't always have their choice
as to the company they keep. At any rate,
we won't waste words about this matter. You
know the Silver Lake sails next week, and /
ask you-mark me, Clary, it is the last time
if you 7ill be my wife before go? Will you
answer me now?"
They had walked along till they reached
large, dismal looking tenement, when the wo-
man stopped, and turning to her companion
said IN tone of mingled firmness and en-
treaty:
II have already answered that question,
John; and can only say to you now, that
were ten times more lonely and friendless
than l am tonight. would not give myself
and my happiness to your keeping, Let this
reply suffice, and for all time. 1t is the only
one can give you"
& "But it shall not suffice y said Lyman hoarse
with passion. II have those around me who
are not afraid to do my bidding, and if fair
words won't prevail, wen see what will I've
waited long enough There was something in
the manner of this man that compelled satten-
tion, however opposed one might be to what
he said; for he spoke like one accustomed to
obedience.
"Do you dare to threaten me thus, John Ly-
man?" answered the woman scornfnlIy and
with half defiant air, as if she could save
herself by assuming little courage. "Oh!
what heroic manp
@Hush, Clary, hushl viii not bear a taunt,
even from you. But when leave this port,
you viii go with me or 1 am greatly mistaken
for once;" )" and STOPPING quickly, he whispered,
or rather hissed in her ear,-''if yon dare es-
cape me this time, it were better for you, aye,
and the boy too, that you both slept in the
bottomless depths ofthe sea! don't forget that,
Claryw
Having uttered this threat, the man turned,
and walked rapidly away; while overcome
with terror and fatigue the young woman sank
upon the doorstep in deadly swoon. 1t hap
pened that a policeman was passing just as
Lyman left her, and from some cause or other
he suspected something was wrong andconclu-
ded to question her, but meeting with no res
ponse to his inquiries, he stopped to raise her
and found at once that she was insensibie, Or,
for aught that he knew-dead.
Knocking loudly to arouse the inmates, he
lifted the unconscious woman and bore her
into the house, with underlined feelings Of hope
and dread-and of what?
"Bless mel if it amt Miss Clara now;;' said
stout, red-faced Irish woman, who opened
the door. "Poor creeturl an it's a burnin'
shame to thin that's her kin that she should
be left to die in the streets'
"She is not dead. my good woman; but you
must do what you can for her quickly, or 1
am afraid she viii not live longs" was the re-
ply.
They took OF the wet hood and shawl, and
as the light fell upon the face of their patient,
the policeman started back and an exclama-
pale as her own. He grasped the arm Of the
woman who was busily at work in her efforts
to restore her charge to life, aud tried to speak.
"Tell me-" he said, in strange, husky voice,
"Tell me about her, what is her name? and
how came she here
O3Josl Ioo1-aJ NV, fI, oxoc full Of xxon-
der. can sure, is it beside yerself that ye
are? Whativer can her name be, savin' Clara
Sanford? and didn't she come here wild the
little boy because she was poor, an had no
ren's but the rich cousins who don't spake to
the likes OF her. She's as good as any of'em,
though, poor dear; but they'll get their reward
for sich cruel treatment, lznow.n
The latter part of this communicates r,os
unheard by the young man, who, to the great
surprise of Mrs. O'Neil, had thrown himself
on his knees by the bedside, while his whole
frame shook with suppressed emotion.
"Oh Clara, Claral have found YOU at
last OH my darling; my wifep
As if in answer to this passionate appeal.
the dark blue eyes of his Clara slowly opened.
and fell upon the face bending SO tenderly
over her. For one moment she gazed upon
the well remembered lineaments, and then
with low, thrilling cry Of
Herman My own dear husband !" she
threw her arms around his neck, while her
overburdened heart found relief in tears
tears Of joy too great for utteraace.
Mrs. ONeil slipped from the room unob-
served by either in the fullness of their hap
piness.
When she had somewhat recovered her
calmness, Clara Sanford told her husband how
she had mourned for him as dead since she