The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1872-03-24
again." turned and took his place among n

Ten.
Was this Death that was coming to heri
brain, this half unconscious feeling Of her
| heart-she could pot see bis face, che could NOT
even feel the meaning Of tho scene around her,
a gentle music seemed waited to her ear, .
soothing radiance seemed to hold her In its
But suddenly she started to her feet All,
! all had gone! The room was silent and desert
Tds the
She sped along that dewy, grassy road.
that just beyond that clump Of graceful trees,
mon had been halted to meet their doom.
She heard o woman sobbinR-a young ehiid
crying ont aloud-and yet she passed them
She gained the grove. She saw tho clear,
cold, open space beyond.
Ten men were kneeliog there. ten new-dug
near at hand. A squad Of soldiers stood in
front and partially hid the scene from her
straining eyes-soldiers with cleaning guns,
49, Her gaze ran slong the suppliant line,
even in advance of the other nine, knels one
How came he there What did it mean
Where was the form and face she came to gaze
on fondly to the last Was she crazed with
! grief or wild with feari
With flying feet. with wringing hands, with
frantic screams, abe cried out aloud:
"ONeil! O'Neil ONeil!"
| muskets drowned all sounds dimmed every
| sight; but through 1t all, she saw the young,
enraPtured face looking mp to death! The
| bright, clear eyes shining with the glory of q
noble action, the sweet, sweet smile that seem'
| ed at once mute farewell to earth. q glorious
welcome to the angel-messengers lowering
| near
Some one rushed between her and the dread
fnl sight-some one calling on God for help, for
vengsance-and yet she knew 1t was too
O'Neil had died for Davis.
The latter had been held, bound and tortured
to see the sacrifice, and to know that Life was
death. Even as the truth flashed upon him
and he had struggled to free himself and take
his place upon the ground, O'Neil had waved
his hand in token of farewell, the short qniseA
with q wonan's cry, went up to God together
/ with those innocent noble, martyred souls
iToo late , - 70
Even rs Ellen gazed through that throbbing
) dazzling air, there came to her the remem
y .brance CT that pictured scene upon the lamp
ns tSs
!. hearted youth Here shone those luminous
r soft eyes. Here beamed that glorious, radian
Q smileI
t But this was no vision that would fad.
away-no dream that soon would be diepellet
k no picture that might be effaced This wa
Q truth: This was real
on: still she walled forth the name of him
8 who bad never failed before to answer he,
o appeal. .'. -. --L -
Q in their fond embrace. Warm, loving lips
pressed themselves upon her bloodshot, strain
d ing eyes. Tender, trembling hands crushed
d Life and love! But purchased-o IN!
nj God AT what u fearful price!
g CHAPTER xxxvnr.
Homecard
j, When Ellen recovered from the mournfu
Of swoon, into which she had fallen on Davis
s. breast, days had rolled into weeks, weeks into
'. months--aud with the passing time, had come
It that which was called-Peace!
u Such peace as comes to the struggling bird
- when the snare is round it, and its wings are
IS broken with the binding folds! Such peace as
/, the wild deer feels, when, weary with its long
l. long flight, beset on every side, and powerlest
to escape, it falls upon the ground to await the
y final blow! Such peace as the graceful girafft
knows, when the Afrio Lion leaps upon hel
s back and feshes his fangs in her quiveripg
Q breast Over plains and heights she fees, she
j, trent les-rall es-strains every nerve anew
Y but all in vain:
Q cher struggles only serve to draw her life
| blood faster
! Ellen only understood, in that one moment
of consciousness, that her cross had been changed
| but the anguish and regret hidden in the new
s seemed almost to exceed the pain and torture
of the old.
She had been placed under the care of hos.
> gent little Sister of Mercy watched by hel
bedside both night and day.
Q When she first returned to the actual life
a around her, she found the good priest bending
over her, while the little Sister and Mr.. Davis
!. were kneeling on either side of her sick bed.
She was being amounted for death. But in
! her case, as in that of many another, 1.-THE
prayer of Faith had saved the sick ons," and
she returned with humble spirit and willing
, heart to the new life before her.
Days afterwards, when Davis was by her
, side, and she could thank God for this grace
, she asked the priest the question that lay
upon her mind at all hours Of the day:
"Why did he do thisf Tell me all you
know"
what can tell you, my child, that your
, heart does not already feelf He loved you
, so we'll that he died to make you happy. He
! told me he was n lonely man, without any tie
of kindred, and with few friends in this coun-
try. His life had been an aimless, useless one,
benefiting no person, blessing no heart,
Frightening no home; but his death might be
the means of bringing to you all that had
been wanting in his own life. You must not
I ense
his joy! Be happy for his sake. and remember