Daily Kennebec journal., 1878-10-19
Gales aud Skftehfs.
IN HIS CARE.
Continued from Yesterday

As prelude to confidence, he told Zaidee
| that he was going to California, and she
exclaimed. iovfully masculine
vanity did not exaggerate masculine at
fractions now-"Why, there is where
| Aunt Clarence is going to 10 take me. if !
only reach her in time-to San Franciscan
1--WE will 90 there together" said Max
well and Immediately he began 10 un-
fold TO Z,idee the secret Of his errand to
the West. 1t appears that along those
| golden shores beneath the clear water,
lie golden sands mingled with the grains
of quartz in tempting quantities. To sep
arate these sands at slight cost, and secure
the pure gold. is TO insure fortune, and
Theodore Maxwell had contrived the
means to do 80. He was now fastening
to the place of trial to test his invention.
"How wonderful that you should have
thought of it I suppose YOU were in
spired." said little Zaidee.
| Twilight deepened to night. The car
lamps we're lighted, and the express train
speeded through the dark Zaidee, who
had been aroused from bed that day long
before dawn, began to feel weary. and she
was now sufficiently en- rapport with her
| companion to say to him, confidingly. "I
| think I will take little nap" She laid
| aside her bonnet, wrapped her travelling
shawl like hood and cloak about her, nes-
| tied into her corner bv the window. and
| fell asleep
Then Theodore Maxwell, assured by
the sealed evelids and deep breathing that
she would not surprise his search. stadied
her scrutinizingly He saw the innocent
| little face. touched by slumber. become
| more lovely. more innocent, more intense
ly and genuinely child-like. than even the
| waking face had been, and his heart was
smitten with strange tenderness. He
felt such sharp delight in his protective
re- lation to this gentle morsel of humanity
such keen and exalting and yearning
delight as he had never felt before. New
er but once. And that once. fatal in
years gone bv. ending so cruelty, so Bit
terlv- he would not let himself think of
it Besides. that traitress to his boyish de-
votiOn was woman-a woman of the
| world. without one spark of the true light
of childhood left in her. And this sweet
little sonl. wrapped in sleep now so trust
| fully, was. Notwithstanding its budding
beauty of womanlness all child-like. His
| heart shook with mingled tenderness, ad-
| mration and care for her.
But by and-by. in the subtle cOntagion
of slumber. sense of delicious wear
ness stole over his guardianship; he lean
ed his head upon his hand, and slept. or
half sept. certainly.
And Zaidee awoke, and saw him thus
with closed eyes unconscious, and her
heart went out to him. For the express
| ion of his face. held passive in the inter-
pretve spell of sleep. was lovable. All
| harshness. all suspiciousness. all coldness.
had passed away. The brow was clear
| and smoth; the features nobly shaped,
were gentle. frank, and serene; the
mouth especially was good and sweet.
"His mother must have loved him rery
much." thought little Zaidee.
And her gentle 'violet eyes" were rest
ing upon him when he awoke. He caught
fully the charm of the guileless counte-
nance.
"with childhood's starry graces lingering yet
In the rosy orient of young womanhood,
And eyes like woodland violets newly wet"
Then came that sudden awakening-it
came to them both as their eyes met-that
awakening so like and vet so unlike the
awakening from sleep; that sudden, SUBJ
tie, and impetuous leap Of conscious life
from unknown abysses into veritable en-
ergy; that stroke of force more marvel
lous than the force that levels mountains,
bridges torrents, clasps distances-force
| unseen. compelling. religious. exquisite,
| that in one instant binds heart to heart.
1t came to them there, in the mystery of
night, in the rush of travel
brief as the lightning in the collied night
That in spleen, unfo'ds both heaven and earth"
Come and gone But to return again: for
in their meeting gaze was that "seed of
| fire" leagues of earth cannot bury, "many
waters cannot uuench"
"You have been asleep said Theodore
Maxwell.
so have YOU" said Zaidee.
They said no more: they rode far and
in silence-silence, however, that felt the
throbbing of a new existence, deep and
strange and precious.
| Near midnight the moon arose, and the
cars were approaching the station where
the travelling companions must part. But
when the station was reached what dis
may what comfort No one was waiting
for Zaidee. The place. a solitary railway
house in the midst of farm lands, was en-
,irely unvisited.
"Of course | cannot leave YOU here at
the dead of night" said Maxwell. "We
must 90 on to Niagara, and then telegraph
to your friends" So they went on to Nj.
agara.
Moonlight of an August night; stop
ping-pace, Niagara. Whoever at such
hour has alighted from noisy journeying
at this wonderful station will remember
how still it is.
1t the array of vehicles marshalled in or
der along the platform, if the array
of stage-drivers so vociferous at every
other terminus in Christendom. If all the
passengers, baggage-tenders, and porters
had been carved out of moonlight-the
pearly white moonlight that bathed and
ethereaized everything-they could not
have been stiller.
Zaidee was almost frightened at the
sound of her voice when she said, II
thought we should hear the roar OF the
Falls" Not sound. not suggestion of
roaring.
Not until they had driven up the ave-
nue. between the corn fields and pastures
and slumbering village. and rested in the
porch of the Cataract House, did they hear
that sound; roar il cannot be called. so