The Washington critic., 1886-05-15
OUT OF THE DARKNESS.

a.
the magnificent mountain scenery.
entered the first hotel went to bed and
to sleep at once. and my dreams were
most delightful
/ was awakened by the merry song
Of a pedestrian under my window, and
imagined that the sun had risen, but
could perceive nothing but profound
darkness. Then heard the birds sing.
ing, and asked myself with some
alarm: "Do the birds sing in the
nightY"
Quitting my bed, groped along the
wall and presently touched the window
panes opened the easement. and the
. warm, flower laden breeze famed my
face. Again l said to myself, with
terror: FLOWERS, trees, grass, do not
give out such perfumes at night" |
pressed my trembling hand around the
window frame and felt the wall on one
side was warm to the touch, and with
increasing terror said: cone cannot
feel the sunshine in the night! What
time can 1t beY'
lust then the clock of the village
church answered me by striking ~.
AT the same time servant knocked at
the door, saying:
"Are you coming to breakfast, sir?
1t is already IL o'clock"
AT these words / staggered like
drunken man. could see nobody;
nothing but thick darkness was around
me. l hid my face in my hands; tears
and groans escaped me, could l be
totally blind? Broken by the terrible
emotions which shook my frame fell
insensble.
When l recovered my senses found
myself in n carriage, rapidly rolling
along the highway; Il hand small and
soft as woman's was gently placed in
mine. 1t was evident that | had
travelling companion whom / could not
see so / asked:
Where are you taking me?"
She answered in the sweetest voice:
I'VE are on the road to Germany"
"And to what charitable friend
have / the honor of speaking, mad.
amer"
"To the Countess Rose de Morny."
What induced you to take pity on
my misfortune, madame?"
The fact that you are unhappy and
alone"
THAT was showing great bcnevo-
lence to an unknown traveller"
Il remembered you sufficiently well
to recognize you ut the first glance. /
saw you very often last winter at our
ambassadors in Paris. Your name is
Frederick Dorsay. By your passport
! felt sure 1t was your intention to visit
Austria l was ON my way to Vienna
to join my family, and thought we
might as well travel together"
"But what can / see in trayeling?"
"Will you let me see for YOU, Fred.
erick?'
AT first l imagined I must still be
dreaming in the hotel room; but as /
realized my position and the terrible
reality, / wept as | kissed the hand of
this woman, who was young, rich and
pretty, and yet willing to give up her
time to an unfortunate invalid, TO be
literally eyes unto the blind.
We Travelled by short stages; the
Countess Rose was truly rare mar
velous companion. Not satisfied by be-
ing only my friend and protector, she
endeavorod to consol, to enlven me by
the charms of her imagination, wit
and conversation. The generality of
friends in this world bring us their
own troubles without being willing to
share ours-but not so with my protec-
tor. If she was ever wearied by this
tete.atcte with a blind man, not q
word of reproach or weariness ever
escaped her lips.
Once arrived in Vienna, | was in
stalled in the countess mansion; her
servants overwhelmed me with atten.
tions, and my friends from the British
embassy visited me daily; every even.
ing was charmed with the most ex-
quisite music. Rose, to my blinded
eyes, was younger and prettier every
day. To complete my happiness I
needed only the light Of the sup, one
ray of light, even.
One day, after dinner, the countess
led me to my room and placed me in q
deep chair. Presently two persons
entered the room; one walked like Rose,
the other slowly, like an old man, and
approaching my chair without speak
ing, they looked at me. and felt sure
were compassionating my misfortune.
who is there?' | asked in voice
trembling with emotion aud anger.
\ hand was placed upon my fore.
head which i felt TO be Roses, and |
said:
"Who else is near me, Rosc?"
My friend, II is the most celebrated
oculist in Germany who is with me;
he will examine your eyes and cure
you; do not speak, Frederick, and do
not move under the doctors handp
The doctor raised my cyelids, and al.
most simultaneously two sharp prickss
two punctures by keen blade, drew
from me II cry of anguish A bandago
was placed over my eyes and all was
over till tomorrow.
The next evening small taper was
lighted in the room Rose placed her
self in front of me; the doctor was
near by, and several other people were
around. AT last the bandage was lifted
from my eyes, and imagine my delight,
my deliriOus happiness at finding my
sight restored, / saw many people
around me, and felt | should recog.
nize Rose at the first glance.
a voice, whose familiar sound made
me start, seemed to answer my
thought.
Frederick, said the countess,
"after God, who has protected you,
you must thank Dr. Muldortf, who has
restored YOU"
Why should | thank the doctor? He
might have restored me, but it was Rose
who had really saved me. My first
glance belonged to Rose by right, and
wished by it to express the gratitude
OF my eyes to their savior. But what
A.. g.