The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1878-07-04

to think and believe high and lofty things
OF his name, drove her to sudden anger at
any suspicion of ths opposite. "Whoever
knew one of those blue-eyed, blonde
mustached rnen who had spark of true
courage" and she looked anything but a
feeble character herself as SIC paced the
floor rapidly, har eyes tiashining diynant-
~ with the intensity Of passion 10 which
shehad wrought herself.
"Take care" said Blanche warningly,
in a low voice. "You remember Hamil.
ton Belmont saved my life at the risk Of
his own. He was none of your heroic.
looking men,"
'You will find that Redmond Clarke
is not second Hamilton Belmont. If
could know for certainty that he ran
away rom any danger, threatened or real
should never again allow him to touch
even my finger tips: I should feel SC
Inundated that such man had ever
dared to ask for my love-"
Don't judge too harshly-toe h. stily,'
ssid her f,ierd, gently. You knew that
Redmond Clarke and Louise Rand were
titted to make each other happy could the
latter have the mists of doubt cleared
from her wi'fnl eyes.
Clarke had really intended to return tc
tho Cocassctt house as he promised, bui
the gentleman whom he sought was ali.
sent, and the last stage left before his re.
turn.
Ashda'e was primitive, unambitious
town. Its only connection with the great
world was the regular stage. Its hills
and valie IS had never yet echoed with the
shrill whistle of the locomotive.
He paced backward and forward on
the piazza of the quiet little hotel where
he was 10 pass the night. under the poetic
skies ola fine evening, thinking of Louise
Rand. Her naughty imperiousness had
a charm for him. He smiled to himself
as he thought, "she will thoroughly be-
lieve now what she suspected when left
Fer, that should not return tonight"
he was prcuder than she. The e was a
depth beneath that indolent exterior she
had not sounded; and because she had
doubted him-shc whom he loved-he
would not deign to inconvenience him.
self to gain her approval. A man with
less Inherent haughtiness would have act
ed differently.
He retired carly and was soon in u
deep slumber. 1t did not prove refresh
ing. 4 feverish, restless dream wreath
cd in and out of his brain. He saw
Louise suspended over waste of waters
clinging to something that threatened
every moment tn snap with her weight,
and she he enyulfcd forever. Then the
scene shifted, and he saw as plainly as
it it were reality the building where he
had left her enveloped in flame, and
amid the cries CT frantic men aud wome
Louise in her white night robe at II win
dow where the flames were rapidly clos
ing round her, reaching out to him with
wild shricks for help. He woke with
the agony Of the scene. Perspiration was
starting from every pore. He sprang out
OF the bed and threw up a window. The
night was sweet ard fair as when he re-
tired, with the added glory of the fnll
moon, i'll the fuller light Of which the
stars were paling their modest hri shtness.
Over the fair landscape were flung
frightening, sleeping shadows of tall
trees, shrubbery, and homelike cottages
in their Enclosure.
The scene calmed, sobered him, but did
not dissolve the hurried impression of
danger. Was his dream warning? He
tried to smile and put it away as the Off
spring ola diseased imagination. But the
vivid horror OF the scene stood before his
vision with to much reality, and he turned
to dress with a quick, nervous haste. The
moon shown directly into his room and its
light was all sufficient. lie was only four
miles hom Woodvillc. He could walk
that distance. lie could not rest with this
horrible Impression upon HIM something
might be even now happening. He let
himself out noiselessly at the front door
and commenced a rapid walk. The church
clock tolled the hour twelve. He would
reach there IN less than an hour. What if
he should tind his dream realized2 He was
good walker, and the distance between
him and Woodville rapidly lcssened
AS he drew near re began to feel reac.
tion-indeed almost inclined to turn back
tie came suddenly upon the village, living
serene and lovely under the moonlight
The Cocassett House, to which his gaze
was directed, doomed up large and tall
among the quiet cottages around, and some
stately e!ms threw their protecting shad
ows over its white walls.
All! what IS that2 The horror of the
dream is repeated2 and broad, aner,
sheet Of flame suddenly burst from the
windows of the east side of the building
1t is not far from the room occupied b.
The two girls.
Merc:ful heaven" burst from his
lips. The fire must have made terri
bic headwny insidc!" He rushed up the
steps and and rang the bell violently
while his voice sounded o.: the stiffness
with the most horribly ominnus words
one can hear in the dead OF the night
Flre Fire!'
The house was aroused in a moment
Partly dressed persons of both sexes
rushed wildly along through the halls
which were filled with suffocating smoke
The fire had the upper hand. There
was little time to save aught but precious
lives.
Redmond, who had at once opened the
door with his latch key, rushed upstairs
to the room which his friends occupied
but was Mortified to find the passage il
flames. "Goou G. d,"he groaned, Chow
shall l rescue thcm'''
He rushed out again aud joined the
crowd who had collected under Louise's
window. No sound issued from the
room. Perhaps they were already suf
located. Redmond shouted; no answer
Two men went hastily for a ladder; il
would be eternity before they returned
Mean"hl!e they were in the very jaws Of
death: \ tall tree rose firm and grand
near the window. Redmond flung biz
coat on the dewy grass and ascc. :del il
quickly. How, nc could not tell, but hi
gained projecting branch, threw up the
windows and vaulted into the room. II,
was clever gymnast, but in his hours OF
amusement he never dreamed of this ter
rlble need. The room was full of thicl
smoke that almost stopped his breath
The girls lay unconscious in sleep tina
IN few moments more would be eternal
He caught the first one, and supporting