The democrat. [volume] (Weston, W. Va.) 1868-1874, 1874-04-27

S- VIVA A@A''t eAN sASA bOSu-
aMy cousin Conrad promised to
come for me-" Hester answered. at
wonder what detains him. II is too bad
for me to take you Rll this long way out
Of your route"
aIlike il better so, !" the young man
said, grayely. 81 do not like your
cousin Conrad, and I an not willing to
trust you TO his care. Oh, my darling p
he went on, earnestly, " II my music
bnt brings me fame md fortune ] can
then make you all my own, and there
will be no more good.nights, no more
partings in the storm for III"
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.
"No harm must come 10 that. II rep
resents fame and fortune mud love and
honor for thee and me, mydarling."
Hester lifted o small wet face 70 peer
into the gloom.
"And oh, Robert, be careful Of the
clifs-the path is SO lonely and danger
GUS. I shall come early to rehearsal
tomorrow for the sake OF knowing that
you are SAFE"
"Dol" he answered. al shall bring
you glad hdings. Success is too near
for me 10 miss II now. Goodnight,
goodnight, my sweetheart |" And SO
speaking he passed from her into the
shadow Of his awaiting doom.
After that night Of storm the day
dawned clear aud cool. AT III. Paul'i
the Choral Society, Just then in tirsI
flush ofenthusiasn over d new oratorio,
gathered early. 0ne-Two-Three
the great bells chimed the hours and
the singers waited impatienSly for theii
leader. Something had detained hin
most likely; he would come soon
Tha hour struck -Four and he had moi
come, and Hester Heathersleigh, with
q heart heavy as lead in her bosom, fell
on her knees in m agony Of prayer.
!" "oh, my God |" she cried, reckless oi
who might hear her. "He Is dead. My
Robert is dead he has been lost IN
the cruel storm |"
Some one, pitying, touched her arm.
II was her cousin, Conrad Charteris
he was looking down Of her with pale
face-a face paler far than that which
he had spied upon her yesterday from
behind the gallery curtain. Her pite.
ous cry had touched even his stony
heart.
"Hushl' he whispered, "here il
news from him-from Robert; come
and hear what IL is"
A note had been brought-by swift
running messenger, and phudder rar
round the waiting circle OF listeners
when its contents were made known
1t was signed by q leading physician
Of the city, and stated that Robert
Field had been picked up that morn.
ing ut the foot OF the cliffs and taker
home for dead. He was now, at the
date Of writing, lying in an insensible
condition, and IL was impossible 10 tell
what the extent Of his injuries were,
or II there was any hope ofhis ultimate
recovery. IN
A horror stricken silence followed the
reading OF the note, broken at last by q
low, sobbing cry from Hester Heather.
sleigh's white lips.
. .tI must 60 to 'him-oh, ! must 40 Ia
him Who will take me? You
you !" and she caught Conrad Charteris
by the arm.
He shrank away from her with o ges.
ture much as II she had pierced him
with o knife. His black eyes dilated
horribly.
aI? I 70 with you to see him 2" he
cried. "What are you thinking Of !?
What do you take me fore" Then
noting her astonished look he made q
fierce struggle for composnre; ; but his
hands shook like withered leaves.
"Why do you wish to 20 to him 2"
he questioned angrily. "He would not
recognize you-and IL Is no place for
you Let me take you home"
She snatched up her shawl and bound
it with trembling fingers about her
shoulders. az tell you ] shall 20 to
him, she answered. 81 was to have
been his wife and, living or dead, my
place is now by his side. You can come
with me II you 1ikei" And she few
down the steps.
II 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 q very different Robert Field
from the one with whom she had parted
in such high hope the night before.
The bruises were chiefly about the
head, the physician said grayely, and
even II he recovered 1t was doubtful II
his mind would ever be sound again.
Hester heard him, and with q great sob
fell onherk knees by the bedside. Where
now were the brilliant aspirations, the
tender hopes, the gay courage and
stout.hearted faith OF one short day
gone by2 Lost lost Success SO
near to him, and yet to fail. Triumph
50 nearly won, and yet to pass by on
the other side.
"Robert, o my Robert Look up I
Speak to me, or ], too, shall die"
Ahl but love remained. Love un-
changed and unfaltering. This then
was left-the blessing OF d 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 balf.closed lids the dull eyes
feebly and the slender hand