The Union and journal. [volume] (Biddeford, Me.) 1858-1882, 1868-09-11

and Elsie was fastened within tho burning
walls. sought in my pocket for the key
vainly. had lost il. D, heaven what a
feeling Of despair came upon ms Us ] real.
lied the fact. The black woman stood
near, wringing her hands, and screaming,
helplessly. The nearest house was mile
or more away. There was no mortal nid ut
nj my command. prayed TO God for help
and He strengthened me. The building
was Of strong, well.scasoned wood, but ]
strove with all my strength against the door,
how long knew not; II seemed to me an
ago-but at lest, just as the flames scorched
my face, and threatened to euvelop me in
their red embrace, the door gave way, and
staggering in, saw my darling lying asleep
OF the rude bench, and bore her forth TN.
scratched, unhurr, from out the fiery FUR
mace. But in coming out, had to force
my way through sheet Of lurid flames. |
remember that !, scorched my forehead and
duzzled my eyes; but I became uncon-
scious, and I recovered; found myself ly.
ing, with bandages about my head and
eyes, upon son, cool pillow, and heard
through the darkness, which seemed deep.
er than any had ever known, some one
weeping softly, close behind the. Enough:
there is 10 need Of painful detail.. 1t had
been night to me ever since but ] had
saved my darling-yes, my darling. From
that moment, even as woman loves the
babe for whose birth she suffers, so lowell
Elsie Russell, for whose sweet sake had
lost the creates, blessing man possesses {;
and from that moment che had repaid my
sacrifice by care and kindness the most de-
voted. The only pleasure Of my life had
been In her presence. Since the hour !
knew the sun would never rise again to me,
her little hand led me tenderly and cheer.
fully as though It had been a sisters
"And now-now." murrnured aloud,
as felt for the scorched relic Of the bencl,
''now a strangers step must come between
us!' The sound of my own voice, the
cool air, the quiet, brought hack my reason
and weighed my own actions in the bal.
ance Of my conscience. 1Paul Blair"
said to myself "you have not dared to
hope that the young years Of one so fair as
Elsie Russell would be wasted for your
sake that no strange eye would spy out
the Jewel which you, blind and helpless as
you are, could never hope to claim that
that love which comes sooner or later to ev.
cry woman's soul, would never como TO
hers; Paul Blair, you have not dared to
think thus" And even us I bowed in
shame ut tho conviction Of my own heart,
I lalmos, prayed, "Not yet-not ye, let her
be ours little longer !'-and laid my
head down upon the rude bench, and wept
rs had not wept for years, for from the
inmost core Of my sad heart, worshipped
Elsie Russell.
A low trembling voice aroused me.
"Paul!" It said, "dear Paul, why do you
stay in this sad place alone! Come in, we
miss you, my son."
II was my mother. wiped away my
tears. laid my hand within her arm, and
thus went back into the house. had
nerved myself to bear the sound Of the
strange footsiep, before I reached the par.
lor. was right when thought il would
come between us. Elsie was as kind as
ever; but somehow, whenever she was
singing to me, or reading to me, or when.
ever we walking in the garden, or chatting
In the parlor, would hear the ring Of that
foots,ep upon Shc path, and It was oil over
for the day. BY and by, almost grew to
hate il.
One evening when she had gone to
walk with him, as she often did Of late,
my mother, pausing IN a cheerful click
Of her knitting needles, said pleasantly:
IL shouldn't wonder, my dear, IL DR..
Clayinour seriously admired our Elsie. ]
hope Il is so. for he is fine man-is he
not, Paul? 2"
1 answered in the affirmative, and she
went on:
81 was afraid ,l,a, living In this lonely
house, Elsie would lead dull life rs she
grew older. 1t is not as though you could
nav her those little attentions girls are so