The tribune. [volume] (Beaufort, S.C.) 1874-1876, 1876-01-12

"I do wish you would stay all night,
Virgie," spoke Aunt Lizzie, renewing
her entreaties. cit is so late, and it is
growing colder"
Virgie thought of the dreary five
miles ride with drunken husband -
and then the river She had before re-
fused to stay, but now she thought bet
ter of it.
What do you think of it, Charles
Hadn't we better stayi" she asked, per-
suasively.
But liquor had made him sullen.
No, we must go home," he said,
She knew it would avail nothing to
argue the matter with him, but only lead
to a painful exposure, 80 she commenced
paying her adieu1.
By dint of gentle coa1ing she induced
him to give the babe to her before they
started.
AS they rode away, Uncle Lagan
shouted out to them:
"Look out for the river II
vlrgles heart was too heavy for a
reply but CHARLES shouted back with
maudlin cheerfulness
AL right I"
AS they rode on she saw that he was
sinking into drunken stupor. Oh,
If they were only safe at home, how glad
she would be. And then she thought
OF the river yet to be forded and every
not to let him have the child when they
came to the crossing, but to trust to her
own arm and courage to carry herself
and the babe through. She hoped he
would not think to ask her for the child,
and was nerving herself for q refusal in
case he should, when they came in sight
of the water.
The moon shone down, making it al
most as bright as day. Virgie thanked
Heaven for that But she shuddered as
the sweep of the waters fell on her ear
and she saw it foaming white in the
moonlight, as it swept on in strong
cu--ent.
Charles reused himself.
Where's the boy 2" he asked.
Never mind, dear he's asleep, and
l don't like to disturb him. I can carry
him over. I'm strong enough for it.
What is the woman thinking of
You carry him over, indeed Give him
to me.S
But, Charles, you are not in con-
dition to hold him. I shall be thankful
II you can guide your horse over safely,
as You are."
"Ha! What do you mean by that 2"
She made him no answer.
"Do you take me for fool3" he said,
roughly and angrily.
"Now, Charles, don't do sol You
know your arm is very unsteady, Just
now. It is indeedi"
"Ah, l understand you now. So,
madam, L suppose you think I am
drunk2'
Again she was silent.
"Give me the child /" he said, fierce
"Oh, Charlesl For Gods sake"-
"Glve him to mo, I sayl Do you
think to brave mo sof Give him here
this minute"
Resistance, she knew, was useless. It
would only serve to infuriate him, and
what will not q drunken man dor
Uncovering the little sleeping face,
she kissed it once-then drawing the
thick shawl which ehveloped the little
figure, she covered the face again and
gave him into her husbands arms.
"Charles! For the love of Heaven be
careful"
'Don't bes fooii'
So they plunged in, and she did not
take her eyes from the other two until
they had nearly reached the opposite
bank. Then her horse stepped on q
stone, and, slipping, nearly precipitated
her into the water. When her attention
was again free they had reached the op-
posite bank.
"There he isl" said Charles, tri-
umphantly, as he placed the bundle in
her arms. "What simpleton you were
to think 1 could not bring him over
safely"
How very light it wasl Good Heaven
She moved it about in her arms, pressed
it closer. and then uttered an awful
shrek.
"My child My little childi MY
Charlie! Oh, my childp
Both turned simultaneously back to
the water. The quick eye of the mother
was just in time to catch one last brief
glimpse of little rosy, pitiful, upturn-
ed face-and then it disappeared down
the current, and the rapid waters flowed
onl
In his drunken Inconsistencies
Charles had let the sleeping infant slide
out of the shawls, and nothing could be
heard above the noise of the waters.
He did not know it until the mother
screamed.
There was no help. Oh it was pitt
full, heartbreakingl Poor young
motherl
The home of the Gales is very still
now. Virgie's pale face seems paler
yet, from contrast with her black dress.
The cradle looks 80 desolate, standing
always back in one corner OF the nur-
sery. She never passes it without hay
ing her heart wrung anew and she
will sit for hours, folding and unfolding
the little clothes, and her hands lineer