The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1878-04-20
Joy seldom kills. The lonely creature burst
INTO wild laughter. Henry feared his brain

Joy seldom kills. The lonely creature burst
into wild laughter. Henry feared his brain
had turned.
"Look herep' said Albert Long, rousing
himself, and pointing to the MSS on the ia
BILE; sthe great work is not finished, but my
life? In another hour you would not have
got in. live alone" He approached his
lips to his VISITORS ear. "The last franc went
in charcoal for the brazier. my friend. One
falls asleep in the brazer fumes, and to-mor-
row. am rich, you say, and am starving to
death. have had no food for twenty-four
hours, This is the end-the endI Yet |
seemed to be waiting-I heard your footstep."
Then, in louder, rougher tone of voice, he
added: "Halt OF the property belonged to me !;
he lied about me always, and they believed
him. Why was 1 not believedp I should
have remained and fought my own battle.
He did not answer my letters afterward.
He loved money and power.''
Henry's sole response was to carefully adj
minister more brandy. He did not hermit
himself to falter. Four years and seven
months had elapsed since the death of an un-
just man, and here was his heir starving, pre-
pared to terminate a wretched existence bv
means of charcoal brazier! Family quar-
reIs alone are cruel as the grave.
"Will you come with me now 9' finally de-
handed the young man, with assumed cheer
fulness.
"Yes," YEARLY. "Do not forget the man
uscrpt."
This neglected and forsaken Albert Long
was taken to the hotel, where physician
speedily arrived to prescribe the suitable nu-
triment to revive him.
That night he looked at his ardent young
champion, who dared not express his sympa-
thy except by taking care of him, and said,
with melancholy smile.
"You come like the Archangel Michel of
Raphael, young and strong, to trample on
evil.''
"Pray tell me if this shoe-buckle belonged
to your grandmother Hannah Long," Henry
ventured to inquire.
eyes. How did you learn about her.
thought The buckle was my last relic and
went to the shop. All, how counted the
twenty francs received for it! Ten francs
dren, the other nine for bread; as for the
rent-then the last bought charcoal
"Hush" said Henry. soothingy. "We
must talk of the future"
Later Mr.. Whitecap read an ocean tele-
gram with profound astonishment:
81 have found the heir.
FL. ToPPINGHAM."
In the month of July of the following year
pretty young woman sat at aitable covered
with papers, bending over manuscript on
which she was writing zealously. The shaded
lamp made halo about her, while an elderly
gentleman lounged in an arm chair in the
shadow beyond. The evening was warm ;the
scent Of flowers came through the long French
window of this country residence, modestly
termed cottage.
81 have finished" she said with final
stroke OF the pen.
"Thank you, my DEAR" returned the elder
ly gentleman. s'The study of medieval art
gave me an interest in life during all those
years, Henry would have found me in the
libraries, while / Stunned my countrymen.
Perhaps others will read the book"
The young lady came swiftly to his side and
kissed him, just as Henry Toppingham en-
tered the room by the window. Adopted
son of the man whom he saved, husband of
the girl of his choice, the young lawyer is in
variably vexed if congratulated on his stroke
OF "luck'. He likes to ascribe his success to
some higher mental quality.
"a year ago to-day you found me-" said
Albert Long, with his weary. melancholy
smile. Then he glanced at fine copy of
Raphaeps Archangel Michael on the wall.
The gold shoe-buckle lay on velvet cush-
| ion in glass case.