The diamond drill. (Crystal Falls, Iron County, Mich.) 1887-1996, 1888-07-07


ing-room, she was extended on an easy
couch, and, sustaining her husband by
her invisible presence, she realized her
dream Of assisting at his triumph.
Never before had Stenio played with
such passion, such feverish energy. A
superhuman power appeared to control
him. He seemed possessed. And for
getting everything. he followed his mu-
steal demon into the giddy whirlpool
whittier IL led him. His face was at
once superb and terrible. An air of
sublime arrangement obscured his eve.
He saw nothing more; he heard moth
ing more. He played, smiling with ex-
ultation when he expressed mirth and
pleasure In his notes, and weeping real
| tears when he translated sorrow and
despair. His hearers, their eyes fixed
on him with sort Of supernatural at
traction, followed the terrifying cres-
cendo Of his inspiration with an adj.
miration mixed with pain.
In the salon, reserved for her alone,
with her sister. Maud listened. The
first notes had caused her kind of
suffocation. Her nerves were wrought
up, her breathing became more pain
full, and Daisy was alarmed. But grad
ually these manifestations ceased, and
perfect calm enveloped the young
wife as IL she had bathed In melodious
waves, which rested and refreshed her.
She was able then to enjoy this great
talent, which, though displayed before
thousands of spectators, was exerted
In reality for herself alone.
AS in mirage, the three years
which had just flowed by reappeared
before her eyes, invoked by Stenio.
Each of the airs he played marked a
moment in her life. She was again in
the Queens salon where she had seen
him for the FIRST time. There In the gar
den of the old house in Grosvenor
Square where Stenio had walked with
her in the sweet evenings of SPRING
it was there that for the first time he
had dared TO avow his love for her.
She imagined that she could still smell
the perfume of lilac in flower which
bent its branches toward them. Daisy
had come running after them and this
time the avowal had remained without
response.
Oh, the delicious moments when
Stenio played for Lord Mellivan alone
In the little salon, and she accompan-
led him on the pianol How deeply
she had been affected by the rhythm
of his musicl 1t had made her mag
inc that he was bearing her away on
the back of a fiery horse running at
full speed.
Then she saw again the old Irish
Manor, with its ancient trees. Stenio
had come and she had had TO follow
him. What painful and happy years,
full of love, of remorse, of humility, of
pridel How willingly she would have
sacrificed her happiness as a woman
adored, envied, feted, for single word
of pardon from her father. And yet
what pleasure in those past times
Princes, sovereigns, welcomed her
with fattering words. And in the
light, in the flowers, to the noise of APP
plause, the magic violin sung.
At last, alas the scene changed
again, and all became dark. In a
cradle poor, pale child was dying, in
spite OF her cares, her prayers and
her tears. She bent over It and tried
to reanimate IL with her breath. Vain
effort! Between the caressing hands
that would have warmed 1t the poor
little thing became more pale and cold.
And all was ended.
Suddenly 1t seemed TO her that q
great light appeared, and, in a sky
sown with stars, at the sound Of celes-
tial voices, she saw her angel child,
smiling and terminated, thrusting his
little arms toward her. 1t lowered
above her, and she had only to make
an effort TO tear herself from the earth
and follow 1t. And yet she felt her
self held back by an invisible force.
In the distance. soft and plaintive,
was heard Stenio's violin. 1t said:
"Will you then abandon meY Wait
until we can depart together for that
happy realm where there Is no tears,
no where love Is eternal"
And, placedlbetween these two emo
tons, Maud struggled, the prey of a
mortal torture. The sensation was so
lively that she cried out.
Emerging from her dream she saw
her sister standing near her, and
breathless, like a drowning person, she
seized her arm.
"Maud," said the young girl, show
pale you are. DO you suffer-
mo, but feel that l am going to
leave you. saw just now my angel
child, who beckoned me TO come. The
hour Is here. Stenio himself diyines
It. Listen TO what he Is playing"
IL was "The Song OF the Swan
with HIS mournfui harmonies. TIA fune-