The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1886-12-24
THE CROSS OF FIRE.
A CHRISTMAS STORY.

There is an old poem, "Bright Broad
way" which has the rhythm of a song
Alice Randolph sang it, to an improvised
melody, as her carriage rolled down the
gay street, forgetting the last verse,
where, in the gloom of midnight, amid
snow and sleet, an outcast died on Bright
Broadway. just then the street was filled
with sunshine and fragrance from the
''pny woods"-the breath of Christmas,
Alice said, recalling the little country
church, where, amid Christmas greens,
she had stood year before in bridal at
tire, looking out upon the holiday of life
undismayed by the dismal prophecies of
her guardian, quaint Aunt Sophy, whose
experience had induced poor opinion of
men.
The old life and the new were still in
vivid contrast that evening, when in her
lovely Brooklyn home Alice expressed
her enthusiastic gratitude to the man
whose love had wrought the transforms
tion.
~ wonder, Arthur, how 1 ever en-.
dured my colorless existence in the prosy
town of Biantford. One lives more in
single day here than in year where, as
Auerbach says, nothing ever happens. )
Day after day the same people are in the
same places at agiven hour-a wonderful
contrast to Broadway with its ever vary
ing combination. Then there is the
broad river flowing past the two great
cities, bearing ships from every sea- l
SIT at the window watching them as they
come and 90, some of them from arctic
regions, some from tropic lands; and
then there arc always ships sailing away
into the unknown sea, ships that reach
no earthly port. So over all broods the
perpetual charm of mystery"
The charm of mystery cnveloped
Alice's life. After year of marriage
her husbands occupation was still un-
known to her. She had felt curious
delicacy about asking questions, and he
had volunteered no information. Aunt
Sophy had instituted no investigation.
because she considered New Workers ''all
OF . piece anyway" so inquiries were
supertluous Her permission to the mar
Tiage was granted in Characteristic fash.
ion.
"Ycs, you can have her, as you both
seem determined, and l don't know as
you'll make her any miserabler than some
other man would"
Since Alice's marriage she had often
urged Aunt Sophy to visit her, and this
had been the burden of the answers:
Il never see no good como of trapsin'
round the world. | haint never been
but twenty miles from home In all nv
life, and can't see but I'm as we'll off as
though I'd been to Cbiny and Australy.n
The approach of the Christmas holi-
do nd fl,n &c Al
glorious festival MS celebrated in New
York churches, bcguiled Aunt Sophy into
undertaking the dreaded journey, though
she prudenty made her will before start
ing She arrived IN the city the day be-
fore Christmas, comparatively calm and
happy, though haunted by the fear that
something unchurchly might creep into
ground-pinc decorations of the Brant-
ford Chapel without the guard of her
viglant eye. Then young folks is so
Eighty"
Her first expressed wish regarding her
entertainment was to visit them tombs
where they shut up live folks"
Alice went reluctantly, as she was anx,
iorslg looking for her husband, who had
been absent the previous night. Courtesy
to her guest, however, demanded the
sacrifice, 4 they were speedily trans
ferred to the dismal prison.
Aunt Sophy insisted upon exploring
every corridor of the structure, greatly to
Alice's distress, who felt as much hesita
rion in intruding upon the prisoners as
though they had been in their own
homes.
When the distasteful exploration was
nearly concluded, quite by chance Alice
caught glimpse of a prisoner in one of
the cells, ami recognized her husband.
She gazed fascinated; there was no mis-
taking his identity. As long as she sees
anything in this world she will see that
dreary cell, its inmate sitting in an atti-
tude of deep detection, while far above
his head-so high that he could not by
any possibility catch glimpse of the