The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1885-08-07

across which stretched ragged skirt
of black, angry cloud spread the
wild heath of my dream, still.
silent and somber And, as
stood there trembling and shud-
dering, two long hazy beams of light
one above and one below-shot out
from either side of the darkened moon,
just as it had appeared before. 1t was
to look to the right, but when | did SO,
there, dark and dim, saw the outline
of the deserted shed. Once more the
resistless impulse seized me, once more
l was drawn gradually but surely to-
wards the shed, I heard the low moan,
the wailing cry. and saw, just as | had
seen it in my dream, the dark form
crouched up in the shadow of the wall!
| But this time there was no awakening,
| this time 1t was no impalpable form that
l touched, but the fragile figure of a
woman, her hair loose-lying around her,
her eyes glazed as if in death-looking
up into mine with dull appealing look.
Trembling and affrighted as / was,
recollected that | had a small bottle of
brandy and water in my pocket placed
there in case / should require it on the
journey. With great difficulty l sue
ceeded in forcing few drops past her
lips, which seemed to revive a faint flut-
tering in the well-nigh lifeless bosom.
l saw that she was perishing with cold,
so / raised the poor creature in my
arms, took off my shawl and wrapped
it round her, and tried by brisk chafing
and rubbing to restore animation.
Then, with all the strength of my lungs,
shouted for help, but except the angry
bark of some distant watchdog there
was no answer. Life was so nearly gone
that | dared not leave her, even for
the half-hour which it would take to
hurry home and obtain aid; and so the
long night through sat there on the
damp clammy ground, bareheaded and
shivering, with the head of the helpless
woman on my lap, striving to keep the
faint, Pickering spark of life from being
extinguished. At last, towards day
break, heard waggoner going by,
and, hopelessly hoarse with cold and
calling as | was, succeeded in attract
ing his attention, and inducing
him to drive us both to the
house. A doctor was hastily sent for,
who said the poor woman was almost
dead from hunger and exhaustion, but
that by care and attention her life would
be spared. That night | went to bed
with my head burning like furnace,
and every limb aching with pain; and
when morning came it found me
stricken down with a raging fever,
brought on ny the exposure to the
damps and dews of midnight on the
lonely heath. How long lay like that
know not. 1t must have been many
weeks, for they told me after had been
twice ''given up by the doctors |
was delirious the greater part of the
time, and have no recollection of any
thing, except that when I was getting
better, had a dim consciousness of a
familiar presence in the room, and once
fancied some one kissed me on the
forehead The first person l recog-
nized, when my senses cleared, were
my mother and the woman whom l
had found on that eventful night
lying in the shadow of the shed on the
bare heath. / grew stronger and strong
er, was pronounced out of danger, and
at last was allowed to sit up in bed and
talk. One day the doctor asked me if
] had heard the history of the woman
whose life, he said, had saved, and
when 1 told him: No." he answered:
''Ask her to tell it to you. 1t is most
tragic affair. She, too, has lost her
husband, and l think you will be inter-
ested." That very day told her the
doctor said was strong enough to hear
her story, and begged her to tell it, to
which she consented readily. I give
her tale almost as it came from her
own lips, emitting my questions and
interruptions.
my husband" she said, "died six
months after our marriage, and as l
was left almost penniless, my brother in
Australia wrote to me to come and keep
house for him. In the steamer l went
out by there was a young German gen.
tleman called Wagner, who was very
kind to me. We were within five DAYS
journey of our destination when | woke
up one night to find myself alone in the
cabin. and the ship on fire. | sprang
to the door, but fell back almost suffo-
Gated by the deadly smoke, and just as
felt my consciousness going, Mr. Wag-
ner rushed in, seized me in his arms,
and knew no more, until, when
consciousness returned, I found N.Y.
self in a small boat with my
deliverer, the first mate, and two
sailors-alone on the wide sea. A key
of water and package of biscuits were
all we had in the way of provisions
enough to last us about three days. The
first mate, however, declared that it
might be weeks before we were picked
up, and that he must portion them out
so as to last ten days, at least. Seven
long days and nights went by, no sign
of suceor and all our allowance gone!
Each day Mr.. Wagner had taken his
share of biscuit, but the tablespoonful
| of water melted out to him he ALWAYS
gave to me. | did not pretend to re-
fuse, brute that was! in fact hardly
thanked him for it, so utterly mad was
with the fearful cravings of hunger
and thirst | had noticed, however,
that strong as he appeared the awful
privation to which we were subjected
seemed to tell on him more than on any
of the others; he was weaker, paler and
more exhausted. / soon found the
reason, For now, when there seemed
nothing before us but blank starvation,
and when the strong men began to
whine and pule like infants, he turned
to me with an attempt at a smile, bid
ding me to keep "a brave heart and
showing me, hidden away in his peck
ct, the whole allowance of biscuits that
had been doled out to him. They are
all for you; l kept them on pur-
pose. he said in reply TO my saw
age demand for one. God forgive me!
l snatched it from his hand like wild
beast, never even thanking him for his
noble self-sacritice, although / saw that
the poor fellow was fast sinking from
hunger and exhaustion. can see now,
though | did not notice it at the time,
the sad, painful look on his face, as he
turned away when l fiercely demanded
the other biscuits, then and there, and
even attempted to tear them from him
by force. was mad-mad with hunger
and thirstp'
The poor woman broke down here