The weekly clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1863-1882, 1876-12-20


r had taken. They gsz-d around thel
r in all directions, but the driving sno
e obscured their vision. Not trace v,
d to be seen of the object Of their searcl
e and there seemed to be no ALTERNATIVE
E but to give up the quest. But the quic
+ womal's wit, outstripping the man
D slower sense, leaped to a solution o
5 the difficulty With the eagerness o
e renewed hope, the old woman exclaimed
"Well find her yet, Davy; wi God
help well find her yet. Back to tn
cot master, viii 'ee; and gi' me tn,
light"
Hurriedly the pair retraced their steps
As they neared the porch, the old wo
man held the lantern close to the ground
carefully examining the snow. After 8
few moments search, she exclaimed
"Here It's, sure nough, the print OF
Ally's little feet I'd know EN- in hun
dred Now, master, we're in the right
track, thanks he to the good Lord that
sent the snow"
Holding the lantern low, and guided
| by its uncertain light, they followed the
track of the small footsteps, already be-
coming blurred and indstinct under the
still falling snow Fearful of losing the
trace before they could overtake the
wanderer. they pressed on, weary and
| painting, but never hating, never waver-
/ ing in their onward course. They had
! reached a considerable distance from
the cottage, but still no sign, save the
still advancing footmarks of her they
sought.
Still pressing onward, David spoke
with 4 strange tremor in his voice Tell
ZEE what, missus, there's someat wisht
about this-where can the maid be going
o this side o the moor? There's never IA
house for miles"
His wife made no reply. Still they
pressed onward, onward. Each could
hear the others breath, as they painted
through the driving wind, which blew in
their faces, and butfeted them back, as
though opposed to their errand Of mercy.
Suddenly a cry came from the old woman's
lips, shrek SO shrll, so agonized that
for the moment it alone was heard, and
the moaning wind seemed by contrast
hushed into stiffness. She clutched her
husbands arm.
cob, Davy, hurry on You're the
swiftest; hurry on for dear life. o! God
in heaven she's making for the Black
POOL"
With hoarse cry, like that Of a
wounded animal, a cry hardly less fear
full in its subdued anguish, than his
wife's agOnized shrek, David seized the
light and bounded forward, the old wo-
man followed as best she might, her
hand pressed to her side, and her grey
locks futtering in the night wind The
Crli Of hn
DINNER and DINNER in the distance, and |
Mary Hollis strength was leaving her,
when a shout was heard from David, and /
the light came to "A stop. With renewed |
energy she pressed forward, and in few I
moments was kneeling with her husband !
upon the snow, supporting the insensible /
form of her lost daughter in her arms. I
With passionate tenderness the mother !
chafed the cold hands and kissed the I
death white face, striving by close en-
braces to bring back the spirit of life.
But all in vain. The unhappy girl lay,
as David had found her, black heap on I
the snow; 50 still, SO motionless, it /
seemed as though God had saved the
wanderer from the last great sin-that
awful sin, which, shutting out repent
ance, shuts out mercy toby taking TO
Himself the life she would have cast
away.
Still, the father and mother, clinging
10 the shadow of hope, relaxed not their
loving efforts. Wrapping their warm
WOODEN cloak about their child's lifeless
f rm, they half dragged, half carried her
along till they reached the cottage.
Then, while David fastened for the viii
! 81
simple means as her homely experience
suggested to recall the spark of life, if
perchance it might not yet have faded
into utter darkness. After a little while
her loving pains were rewarded by per-
ceivipg the beat of feeble pulse and
the appearance Of a faint flush Of color
on the white cheek; and, little later,
her ears were gladdened by the sound of
the well known voice, though uttered in
the rawlings of delirium.
But her happiness was of short dura-
ton. Soon the good doctor came, and,
with tears standing in his eyes, spoke
words Of doom. The frail form had suf
fered more than it could bear, and the
little life left was but the fire of fever,
which might ar might not burn through
the night, For little while the light OF
reason might come back but if it should
come, it would be but to flicker for mo
ment, and then be quenched forever.
And, meanwhile, all unconscious Of its
mothers life ebbing so fast away-of the
wind and snow without, and the rain Of
tears within-of life or death--of sin or
little babe lay sleeping be-
fore the fire. a dimpled arm supporting
a dimpled cheek, on which the Pickering
freight cast rosy glory. And the
cuckoo-clock on the mantle piece still
licked On Life, death-life, death !" each
tick, each drop OF time, as it fell into the
ocean of eternity, bringing a stronger
throb to the life that was just begun, and
stealing one more pulse that was passing
away.
With quiveriDg lips and streaming
eyes, the father and mother sat by their
pillow, listening in silent an
guish to her delirious meanings. Her
dying fancy seemed to hover hither and
thither about her life; straying far back
into the past and recalling incidents of
her childish days-incidents long forgot
ten, but returning now with strange viv-
idness under the influence of her broken
sentences. And then sadder page was
and the parents knew, too late,
how their darling had been drawn aside,
from duty; and the father learnt, with
bitter self-reproach, how his own stern
ness had repealed the loving confidence
hat had often risen to his child's lips, and
which might, under heaven, have hin
dered the bitter ending Atone moment
she fancied herself with her betrayer, and
pleading, as though she had just left her
home, for his permission to write to her
parents And here the listeners noticed,
with q strange failing of SURPRISE. that