Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1874-04-23

| "My cousin Conrad promised to come
| for me,n Hester answered. a wonder
| what detains him. 1t is too bad for me
| to take you all this long way out of your
| route"
Il like it better So" the young man
| said. gravely. a do not like your cousin
Conrad, and am not willing to trust you
| to his care. Oh, my darling!" he went
on, earnestly, eff my music but brings
me fame and fortune | can then make you
all NV own, and there will be no more
| good-nights, no more part1ngs in the storm
for u.s."
They passed down the stairs and out
into the street together, unconscious of
! the shadow closing upon them, nearer
and blacker. At the door of Hester's
home they parted with lingering good
| by.
my precious music" cried Robert,
| buttOning his coat closer about him. 4" No
| harm must come to that 1t represents
fame and fortune and love and honor for
| thee and me, my darling"
Hester lifted small wet face to peer
into the gloom.
81 wish you could stay" she said.
1" And oh, Robert, be careful of the cliffs
the path is so lonely and dangerous. I
shall come early to rehearsal tomorrow
for the sake of knowing that you are
safe"
"Dop he answered. "I shall bring
you glad tidings. Success is too near for
me to miss it now Good night, good
nightmy sweetheart" and so speaking he
passed from her into the shadow of his
waiting doom.
After that night of storm the day
j j 4 n
| choral society, just then in first flush of
| enthusiasm over new OratoriO, gath
cred early. One-Two-Three! the great
| bells chimed the hours and the singers
waited impatient for their leader Some
thing had detained him, most likely; he
would come soon! The hour struck Four
and he had not come, and Hester Heath
| ersleigh, with a heart heavy as lead in her
bosom, fell on her knees III an agony of
prayer. ooh, my Gody' she cried, reck-
less of who might hear her. {" He is dead.
My Robert is dead! He has been lost in
the cruel stormp'
! Some one, plying, touched her arm. It
was her cousin, Conrad Charters; he was
| looking down at her with pale face-a
| face paler far than that with which he
had spied upon her yesterday from behind
| the gallery curtain. Her piteOuS cry had
| touched even his stony heart.
"Hushm he whispered; 4" here is news
! from him-frOm Robert; come and hear
what it isl
A note had been brought by swift
running messenger, and a shudder ran
round the waiting circle oflisteners when
its contents were made known. 1t was
signed by leading physician of the city,
and stated that Robert Field had been
picked up that morning at the foot of the
cliffs and taken home for dead. He was
now, at the date of writing, lying in an
insensible condition, and it was impossi-
BILE to tell what the extent of his injuries
were, or if there were any hope of his I'LL
innate recovery.
A homor-stricken silence followed the
reading of the note, broken at last by a
low, sobbing cry from Hester Heather
sleigh's white lips.
81 must 90 to him-oh, | must go to
him! Who will take me? You! yOu!"
and she caught Conrad Charters by the
arm.
He shrank away from her with ges-
ture much as if she had pierced him with
knife. His black eyes dilated hoIri-
bly,.
"I? I go with you to see him ?" he
cried. "What are you thinking of?
What do you take me for?" Then noting
her astOnished look he made a fierce
struggle for cOmpOsure; but his hands
shook like withered leaves.
Why do you wish to go to him ?" he
questioned, angrily. "He would not rec
ognize you-and it is no place for you!
Let me take you home"
She snatched UP her shawl and bound
it with trembling fingers about her Shout
ders. 81 tell you [ shall go to him." she
answered. q was to have been his wife
and, living or dead, my place is now by
his side. You can come with me if you
likem And she flew down the steps.
1t seemed an age to her, that short time
she was on the road leading to the lonely
house of Robert Fields widowed mother;
and when at last, by dint of her prayers
and tears, she was suffered to approach
his bedside, she looked down on a very
different Robert Field from the one with
whom she parted in such high hope the
night before.
The bruises were chiefly about the head,
the physician said gravely, and even ifhe
recovered it was doubtful if his mind
would ever be sound again. Hester heard
him, and with a great sob fell on her knees
by the bedside. Where now were the
brilliant aspirations, the tender hopes, the
gay courage and stouthearted faith ofone
short day gone by? Lost! lost! Success
so near to him. and yet to fail. Triumph
so nearly won, and yet to pass by on the
other side.
"Robert, oh, my Robert! Look up!
Speak to me, or l, too, shall die!"
All! but love remained. Love I'M
changed and unfaltering. This then was
left-the blessing of love which believes
all things, hopes all things, and endures
all things unto the end.
The drawn white face on the pillow did
not change at Hester's cry, but under the
halfclosed lids the dull eyes cleaned
| feebly and the slender hand outside on
| the cOverlet CROPPED helplessly. Hester
! took his hand in hers and then, quick as
! lightning, by some strange, subtle instinct
rather than by any demonstration OF his,
| she felt that the poor, stricken senses
were trying to break through the dark
ness that enveloped them and make their
| unknown want understood.
Robert, Robert what is it ?" she cried.
| "What is it that you want to make us IN
| derstand ?'
The helpless movement Of his lips, the
helpless cropping of his fingers, were
| enough to make one weep. Hester bent
| her ear to his mouth.
"What Is it, Robert, dear? Tell me
what is 1t you want?"
The stiffened lips strove with terrible
effort to move and this time one word
was feebly articulated:
"Musicr'