The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1870-12-30


the read to his death-to see the sight He
elbcwed his way through the crowd, which
gave way right and left at the pressure of his
muscular arms. The dwellers in the
burning house had been some
how got out, and now stood half-naked
and shivering in the street. All, it was
thought, were safe; but just as he reached
the group there was fearful shrek, for it
was found that there was one, the youngest,
missing The poor mother sobbed and
screamed, and was only held back by force
from re-entering the burning house and
perishing with her little one. The father,
wringing his hands like one distracted,
offered a thousand pounds to the iremen, If
they would but rescue his child.
TT can't be done, sir, said one of them;
mot if you said a hundred thousand, it
couldn't be done. The floors will fall in in
five minutes, aud it's certain death to enter
that house again.
The red flame was already shining
through the first floor windows, and through
the open door could be heard the roaring of
the fire, which was fast gaining hold upon
the staircase. A thought flashed across the
young mans mind. His minutes were nun
bered, his life was worthless; its last act
should be worthy one, and if he perished in
the attempt, he would be guilty of one sin
the less. With quick, eager questions he as
certained where the child was. The fremen
guessed his intentions, and held him back.
Don't go, sir, flor Gods sake! it's wasting
two lives instead of one. We're not towards,
sir, but this is certain death. If you attempt
it, the Lord have mercy on your soul!
'Amenl said the young man; and throwing
off the hands that held him back he rushed
into the house and up the staircase, which
creaked and cracked under his feet.
The fire was raging on the first floor, the
child was in the floor above The first-foor
-. I,1f
man, with a fierce leap, sprang past the burn
ing spot, and in another second was in the
room where the child lay. The room was
already filled with smoke, and here and
there the flames were darting through the
crevices of the flooring. He could not see
the bedstead, but little frightened voice,
sobbing Papa, dear; do come, papa' guided
him to the spot where the child lay.
Il will take you to your papa, dear, be
said; don't be frightened Then, quick
as thought, he wrapped the little
one in the blanket, and began to
retrace his perilous route. Quick, however,
as he had been, the flames had gained ground,
and scorched his feet as he stepped over the
burning floor. He rushed to the window,
thinking by means of a ladder they might
escape that way; but pouring from the win
dows below him was a sheet of flame. The
burning staircase was the only road. Tying
his handkerchief round his mouth and nose,
to keep out the suffocating smoke he groped
his way to the door. To his horror, he heard
a crash-one-hslf of the staircase had gone.
A deadly terror seized upon him. the last
hope of escape was lost. The life which a
few minutes since had seemed a burden too
heavy to bear, suddenly grew unutterably
precious. His eyes were blinded, his throat
scorched by the thick black smoke, and
tongues of flame were leapiug up around
him, seeking to devour him. With awful
distinctness all the evil of his life, crowded
into that one fearful moment, shone out
clear as MONDAY before his eyes. Instruc-
ton wasted good advice spurned, good
resolutions broken rose up before him; aud
one and all seemed to drag him down,
lost l0st LOST forever and ever! A moment
since he had not dared to live, now he did
not dare to die. That awful horror lent him
almost superhuman strength. Threading his
way through the flames, which were now
rising all around him, he crept down rs far
as he could, and then, grasping the broken
hand-rail, swung himself over, and dropped,
as best he might, depth of some fifteen feet
into the hall below. Fearfully burnt, he had
Just strength-still holding his burden in, his
arms-to stagger into the street, and fell
senseless into the fremens arms
For many weeks he lowered between life
and death, in the intensest physical and
mental agony. For the most part of the time
y
of that awful moment when, standing on the
brink of death, he had looked over into the
abyss of eternity. AS he regained his reason,
a new terror came over him, the dread of the
consequences of his crime. He never woke
without fearing to find the officer of justices
at his bedside, waiting to carry him before
the Judge. But this last fear had lost its
former horror; being, as it were, swallowed
up in this overwhelming thankfulness al
having been saved from far greater crime
the crime that knows no repentance. Or
his bed of pain he prayed as never before
prayed with penitent and thankful heart
and by the time he was able to sit upright
he was ready to endure without hinching the
shame and pain of his punishment. Fol
some weeks the evil day was delayed but
at last, as he was beginning to regain
strength, visitor was announced, and hi;
employer entered the room. With beating
heart, but still resigned, he felt that hi,
J hour was come, and nerved himself to NEE
it. To his surprise, his master made no allu
sion to his misconduct, but kindly praised
} his courage and his daring deed; and tht
thought flashed across him that his folly auC
sin were still unknown, and if he did bu
keep his own counsel, might so remain for
ever. The tempter whispered, BE silent
} and for a moment he was inclined to yield
but his good angel triumphed. With boweC
} head and downcast eyes he told the story o
! his sin, and waited to hear his sentence fron
the man he had wronged. For few minute
the good old man (God bless him) was silent
and then he said, with tears in his eyes
MY lad, 1 am glad that you have told M
: this, very glad; although / knew it before
You:shave committed great sin, and yoI
: have suffered heavy punishment. Thanl
| GnA in HiG hos UaAu 4