The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1875-10-29


door close behind her. .s5 4. ss.E
This seemed 70 break tho spell that
was upon Inc. / darted from the bed
and flew to the window. It was fright.
full scene. To the right Of my bedroom
all was in flames. A balcony which ran
along in frcnt of Ave windows, of which
mine was the centre, had already caught
such ravagcs had the fire made before
it was discovered. *-==s:
Taking al this in at one wild glance,
sprang to the door. Oh, heaven, it was
locked on the outsidc! !
l shrieked, i raved, I battered at the
door with my feeble strength till my
bands bled; but l felt no pain.
oh Pauline, Pauline, you must have
been mad with tcrror-you could not
have doomed me TO such an awful death
Once moro l few to the window. The
scene was changed. Nearer and nearer
were creeping those awful tongues Of fire,
while below looked up sea Of horror
stricken faces. CHASTITY in %he lurid light.
One figure alone I could distinguish
that Of my lover carrying in his arms
senscless figure. 1t was Pauline. Then
her words were true--she was the love of
his heart, and he had flown to her in the
first moment Of danger! Be it so; but
still life was so swcet-so swcet--and I
was so young to die!
1stretched out my hands imploringly
towards him.
"Hugh, Hugh, save me, too! Oh, save
me- do not let me die -
My voice, though could scarcely hear
- ,,,vco1f - ,w>c hnneeo aud ,,u n ,,ra1
reached his ears. He turned towards me
with a great cry, and rushed into the
house.
In that one look l read that he would
save rue or die.
A strange calm came over me; I no
longer shricked, but, standing erect before
the window, and in the face of the help.
less crowd, kept my eyes fixed upon the
door from which was to come my SAL
vation.
It must have been but few moments,
though to me it seemed an age, before it
came. felt Hugh's beloved arms carry.
ing me over the hot floor and down the
sitting stairs. l heard his voice MUIR
muring, s'Thank heaven that I have
saved you, my precious Nina!' Then oil
became dark.
was insensiblc for many days; when
| came to, it was to find myself in a
strange room and in strange house-for
my dear old home had been burnt to the
ground.
Pauline had disappeared on the night
Of the fire, but some weeks later note
reached me through the post. It con-
tanned these brief words:
tFYou will never see me again, but
write to tell you that-though I bear you
no love am glad that you were saved.
1t was the madness Of a moment that
prompted me to lock your door. Had I
not tainted in the smoke, should have
returned to set you free at the risk of my
own life.
"PAu11NE.'
was glad to receive this letter, and I
hope that Pauline is now better and
happier woman.
Scarcely hair Of my head was singed
in the fire. But, alas, my poor Hugh
Even nov there arc scars on his dear face
and arms, which lament over, but
which he glories in as the price Of his
wife's life.
A BRIDE KILLED At THE ALTAR.
ATLANTA (Ga.) constitutional
Scene. Charleston.-.Time, April %, 81.
The Yankees, from time to time, threw a
shell into the city, and nobody seemed to
mind it. But misfortune willed that one
shell should throw the entire community
into mourning.
Miss Anna Pickens, the daughter Of
one Of our former Governors, never con.
sented to leave the city. Despite the
representation Of General Beauregard she
remained, Drawing shells and Greek fire.
tending the wounded and cheering all
with her presence. Among the wounded
officers under her care was Mr.. Andrew
de Rochelle, descendant of one of the
noblest Hugucnots of this city. This
young man was full of the liveliest graft.
tude for his fair nurse; gratitude gave
birth to more tender sentiment: his suit
was listened to; Governor Pickens gave
his consent, and the marriage was fixed
for the 23d Of April. Lieutenant de
Rochelle was on duty at Fort Sumter in
the morning, and it was determined that
the ceremony should take place at the
residence Of General Bonham. the Epis.
copal clergyman was askingIthe bride if she
was ready, when shell fell upon the roof
of the building, penetrated to the room
where the company was assembled, burst
and wounded nine persons, among them
Miss Anna Pickens. The scene that fol.
lowed cannot be described; order being at
last rc-established, the wounded were re.
moved with the exception Of the bride.
who lay inotionless on the carpet. Her
betrothed, leaning and bending over her,
was weeping bitterly and trying to
staunch the blood that flowed from her
terrible wound under her left breast. A
surgeon came and declared that Miss
Pickens could live but two hours. We
will not paint the general despair. When
the wounded girl recovered her conscious.
ness she asked to know her fate, when
they hcsitated to tell her. "Andrew,"
she said, Il beg you to tell me the truth
if must die, can die worthy Of you.'
The young soldiers tears were his
answer, and Miss Anna, summoning all
her strength, attempted to smile. Moth.
ing could be more heart-rending than to
sec the agony Of this brave girl strug-
Cling in the embrace of death and against
mortal pain. Governor Pickcns, whose
courage is known, was almost without
consciousness. and Mrs. Pickens looked
upon her child with the dry haggard eye
Of one whose reason totters.
Lieutenant de Rochelle was the first to
speak: Anna, he cried, I will die soon
too, but I would have you die my wife.
There is yet time to unite us.
The vOunu vir1 did not ron1v Che