Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1882-01-28

| smoke.
! Presently he remembered wha
he was dong.
"By Jove! / must go back" HI
thought. "Nellie will be getting
nervous"
He had been sauntering some
twenty minutes, and had got some
distance from the theater. AS he
went back some people passed him
running, men, women and boys be
gan to pour out of the streets, al
hurrying and shouting.
He wondered what could be the
matter.
Presently he heard two men pass.
ing him speak in English.
"What was il? he asked.
"The theater is on fire!' was the
answer.
Great Godl His wife was in the
theater aione-unprotected.
He ran like a madman. Hun
dreds were running with him, and
the streets were choked with peo-
pie. He fought his way nearer and
nearer; he could see the flames
stooting up into the sky; he could
hear the screams of women, and
the shouts of the soldiers and the
police. The great building was a
mass of fame. The cry ran round
that hundreds were in the building
unable to escape.
"My wife =" he cried. "Let me
through! My wife is there!'
But the crowd forced him back.
He gave one mad, wild plunge to
break down the human wall, and
then his strength failed him. There
was surge backwards as the
mounted soldiers drove the people
out of the way of the officials, who
were shrieking and >gesticulating
and doing very little else; and in
that surge Frank Redgrave was
swept down.
He felt a dozen heavy heels
striking and brusing his prostrate
body, and then he felt no mere.
"Now, then move ON there!"
The big policeman who bent over
something dark huddled up in a
corner of one of the recesses of Wa
terloo bridge, spoke firmly, but not
unkindly.
1t was Christmas night, and the
guardian of the peace, who had only
come on duty at 10, had passed a
remarkably pleasant day in the bo-
som of his family. The spirit of
the season of good will and good
cheer was upon him.
"Come, missus," he said, giving
the bundle another shake; ''it's
getting late, you; come, get away
home"
haggard face-the face of woman,
still young, and with the traces of
beauty not yet obliterated from it
turned slowly to the light, and the
good hearted policeman took step
backward.
He had expected to see the gin
sodden face of an Outcast; he had
expected to hear the harsh, broken
voice of the habituul lOafer give
forth the usual volley of drunken
oaths.
"Homer" said the woman, in a
quiet voice. "Yes-yes-Pll go
home"
She rose slowly from the stone
seat, gathered her worn thin shawl
closely about her. She made step
or two forward, then reeled, and
would have fallen, but the police
man, who had gradually recovered
from his astonishment, stretched
out his arms and caught her.
"Poor lass ~ he murmured AS he
looked at the pallid face and the
hollow cheeks, made more CHASTITY
still by the light that strcamed upon
them from IA neighboring lamp.
"She amt a regular"
Then, letting her sink back until
she rested against the stone coping,
he took her hand and looked at the
fingers.
"No wedding ring" he said,
thinking aloud. "Ah! the old
story"
The woman, whose eyes had
closed in mOmentary faintness,
opened them again. She had heard
the mans remark.
~ am better n0w," she said. /
l will go home. Nellie!- !-where's
Nellie?''
The woman looked about as if in
search of some one.
'Got some one with you, ell ?''
said the policeman. "Who is il? 2"
my little girl" answered the
woman. "She was here just now.
She will see me home"
The policeman looked about. He
could see no one. The bridge was
deserted. 1t was Christmas night,
and only policemen and outcasts
were wandering the streets.
The policeman shaded his eyes
and looked along the bridge. He
was just making up his mind that
the woman was light-headed and a
prey to deiusion when he caught
sight of something coming along
swiftly from the Surrey side.
In a moment the something was
by the woman's side, and clutching
her by her dress eagerly.
The something was little girl of
five-a small, white faced little
thing, in a thread-bare frOck, with,
oh, such terrible boots.
The policeman looked at the
boots and the frOck, and then he
looked at the ehild's face.
He was in surprises that night.
If he had been astonished at the
mother, he was petrified at the APP
pearance of the child. 1t was the
face of an angel in a Christmas
picture-a face surrounded by a
wealth of auburn hair-hair blown
about by the night wind, but lOvli-
er still in the picturesque confusion
in which it fell about the child's
shoulders.
"Look, nanny, look !" cried
the child eagerly. "See what Il
kind gentleman's given me-"
The child held something up in
her fingers. 1t was shilling.
The woman looked at il mo-
ment, then burst into tears.
"God has been mercIful," she
sobbed. "We shall not die on the
streets tonight.
''Die in the Streets" exclaimed
the policeman. "Here that isn't
allowed, you know"
The child crept to where her
mother sat, and putting her little
arms around her neck, drew the
white face down to hers and kissed
it.
"COme along, nanny" she said.
"Now we've got some money, per-
hapS they'll let US in again."
"Yes, come, Nellie; Pm stronger
now," murmured the woman; "let
US CO."
She rose. and taking the child's