Milford chronicle., 1883-10-05

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heard that she had been poor. He be-
ieved she was an orphan. Yet, she was
fortunate.
Round and round went the weary cir
Gle of thought. There was nowhere any
relief but in the depths of toll in the
mines. Physically wearied, he would
spend his nights in sleep instead of
thought.
at length came the day appointed for
blasting the huge mass of rocks which
obstructed the opening of another shaft.
The task was his, and the trust an i'm
portant one.
The train was laid and the locality
cleared. No need to warn those who
were familiar with the danger of such
an explosion, but a lookout must be
kept for persons unconscious of the
peril.
Yet all seemed as it should be. The
red spark was creeping up the hill on its
way to the powder,filled drills. The
explosion would come, and no one was
liable to be hurt by the flying fragments
of rock.
Gathered in knots at intervals of safe
distances, the men waited for the ter
rife blast.
Suddenly a hand grasped Allan's arm.
"Look there, boy r. whispered old
Mr.. Fairlie, hoarsely.
Allan followed his fathers pointing
finger to the top of the hill.
A woman's figure stood there.
Allan did not know whom it was. He
only saw that she had come over the hill
from the other side, and pausing, had
turned TO look back over the landscape.
He saw, too, that the other men had
come up around him.
"It's General Earle's heiress. The
Earle carriage is at the foot of the hill, "
he heard one say.
''Shout, boys Call to her Warn
her OFF, he was saying as he tore off
his coat.
"Allan, my boy, you caunot do it.
The fuse is almost at the top, and you
have a long run, said his father, catch
ing his arm.
'Lord, yes, sir You'd get there
only in time to share her fate" said a
young man, pushing his hand against
Allan's breast, to enforce attention.
"She can hear the calm and yellin'.
There's time enough for her to get out
Of the way. You'll get yourself hurt bad,
sir"
1t was only an instant of time that
Allan fingered, looking at the motion
less figure upon the hill.
The girl wore gray dress, and
white flower in brown braids looped up
under a jaunty hat of black velvet.
His grandfather's heiress Only one
little instant he fingered, but in that
brief time Satan made bid for his soul.
''She does not heed-she does not un-
tierstand p he cried, his voice breaking
strangely.
Then he was off
He was a swift runner. He had a
powerful voice, too, and he used legs
and lungs with the power of desperation.
The distant shouting had failed to at
tract the girls attention; but as Allan
came across the field, she turned her
head and looked at him.
In that instant his voice failed him;
but his wild leaps brought him to her
jida.
"Ilanocence! are we too late p
His cry, as he snatched her up, was
ambiguous; but she grew white. She
Jung about his neck. Speechlessly he
bounded down the rocks she had lately
climbed so leisurely. Roots and branches
mapped under his strong tread. Once
le slipped, and it seemed as if they
yould be whirled to the bottom; but
.lasping his precious burden tighter,
ALAN Fairlie bounded to the hills foot,
nd springing into cave, lost his foot
NO at last, and fell, as the whole world
eemed drowned in the voice of the ex-
,losion.
He struggled up.
''NIy little darling are you hurt ?"
''No, no But you look so dread
ully- Oh, what is the matter ?"
He told her.
She could scarcely be whittier when
he understood what her peril had been;
,ut her broken words confessed her
ove with her gratitude.
Sweetheart pure soul p he sobbed,
4 am not worthy of your dear love.
But moment ago I had the heart to
ct you perish. thought you were my
heiress."