Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1882-06-30
Gales x1tb Skeifbfs.
1 yIeHf o. BIsAsfER.
CONTINUED from yesterdy).

accident a. that said Berfram to him
self; and DOW he passed under some trees
and came 10 q wall. leapt it, and found
himself in road 1t led in the right direc-
{ on. and. thanking his stars, he began to
move forward.
But the sky was getting brighter. He
could see it through the heavy boughs
loverhan9iDg the path and there was GER
fainly glow which he had not seen be-
fore. He walked a little now. and the
light got brighter. Then it became more
radiant, and he could see distinct pulsa-
lions Of red blaze rising and falling on the
midnight curtain of clouds. What did it
mean! An aurora? Not in these lati-
tudes, on such a night. What was it !
With quickly beating heart he. fastened
On.
Another moment, and he was in view
of and close to the hopse that what was
nearest to him on earth. What sight !!
Was he dreaming? Was this the effect of
the accident upon his too highly strained
nerves.? No. The villa was on fire.
from basement to roof, one flaming Frame
work windows, floors. and walls send
ing columns of nearly smokeless fire up
to the sky, as only Eouses can do that
have quantities OF well-seasoned wood
above them.
There was a beautiful creeper. elem
ats, that used to hang in festoons over
the porch, and there it was hanging still,
charred and shriveling in the fierce heat.
That creeper had been watered every day
by Helen's own hand. Where was she
now? Pray Heaven, not within. He set
of, with his heart throbhing against his
ribs, at race-horse speed for the house.
Somebody was standing on the lawn in
front OF it. Berthe rushed across the sop
py. fire-illuminated turf toward him. 1t
was old Mr.. Graham, Helen's father.
call him old. though in reality he was not
more than 60 years, but he was prema-
turely aged, being complete inva-
| lid. and had come abroad to the
southern coast for the sake of his
health. He was STOPPING down. trying
with frantic impotence to raise heavy
ladder that lay along the ground; but
| evidently the task was too much for his
feeble strength. Mr.. Graham'' half
shouted Bertram, rs he dashed up to him.
wilde ~ and Mr.. Graham clashed his
hands, and calculated "Thank Heaven
you have come. Helen!"
That name was enough for Bertic. He
guessed all. Quick as lightning he had
raised the ponderous ladder into the air.
carried it across the gravel and reared it
against the house, spite of columns Of
smoke pouring from the lower windows
Another moment and he had sprung up
the rounds, and was battling with the
mingled flames and vapnrs that were
pouring out of an upstairs room-lIelen's
room,
He sprang inside. although he knew
from the amount of smoke and heat that
he had had only few brief moments in
which to do his work. Half suffocated,
he tried to look around, and his eyesight
failing him, he walked forward feeling his
way, when he stumbled against something
lying on the floor. Another second, and
he had lifted Helen's inanimate form in
his arms, dashed to the window in a state
of sem-madness from the effects of the
heat and smoke. and put his foot on the
top round of the ladder
1t was difficult work descending,
weakened. scorched and blinded is he
was; and as he got within foot of the
ground he was seen to drop his precious
burden-luckily into Mr. Graham's arms
while he himself sank heavily on the
turf. The accumulated horrors OF that
eventful night had been too much even for
his young and active frame. He had
swooned away.
And Helen, was she still alive? Her
father bore her tenderly to the lodge.
helped by some among the country people
who were now hurrying to the scene of
the conhagration. There her mother
was waiting. and that mother ex
pended all her care and affection
in tending the beautiful girl who
had almost fallen victim to the dreadful
fate OF death by fire. while Mr.. Graham
went back to look after Bertram Wilde.
BERTHE was safe enough. 1t was not
fated that he should perish either from
railway accident. or the flames. or the fall
from the ladder. His ailment chiefly
consisted of burns and bruises. and was
trifiing compared with Helen's. who did
not really recover from the shock and
suffiocation for some months after the ter
rible event of that night.
How the conflagration originated re-
mains a mystery. though it was certain
that it had begun in an upstairs room. In
the old timber-built chateau the flames
had spread with marvellous rapidity.
Helen had been in her room, irving to
C'ttCu u sieHt oi DtTtte tTdln through the
window. and could not have been up stairs
more then half an hour when she heard
her father shouting ..Helen, Helen
come down for heaven sake,''
She rushed to the door-that is what
BERTHE learned from her afterward-and
OH to the landing; but the flames already
had hold Of the staircase, and she was
driven back into her room. There she
made an effort to leap down from the
window, but the height was too great, and
she was afraid, and the gathering resinous
smoke soon paralyzed her; she st,od at
the open window calling to her father to
fetch a ladder. aud it was in this position
that she remained to be overpowered by
the deadening torpor of suffocation. The
reader knows the rest
Berthe says that railway accident was
the luckiest event that ever happened to
him. Had he gone on safely to Antilles,
he could not have been at the Chateau Y
for full one hour more. In that fime.
what would or what might have happened
to Helen.
OF course inquiries were made as 10