Waterbury evening Democrat., 1888-02-01
CHAPTER VIII.
HIS MISTAKE,

It was quite dark when the carriage turned the last bend ill the winding road homewar,. md the lights of Bretonville came into view. The lights in the windows of the poor danced out to meet the tired horses as gayly as any There might have been a sobbing woman behind the cheeriest of them all; nature shows sympathy for human suffering. If her poor children have no rest and joys their hearts must break; that is enc of nature's laws. Neither can light lose its gladness and cheer because gladness and cheer are so ab- surdiy out of place ill poverty stricken homes. Homes indeed! As if the circles that were gathered within most of those windows de served the name of home, with never smile of contelt:nent to light up face or word of hope to make music for dulled ear Home to such as they is the place where the cravings of hunger are quieted and the tired cork; and muscles are relaxed for a new strain: where they can complain and where they catl sleep and die. But save the word to them it least, for time when it shall be reality.
 Suddenly the sound of fire bells fell upon Philips ear and startled him out of his mel anc::olv ravery. The same instant he saw litta cloud of smoke above the brick mills, afsi then a bright tongue of flame leap up toward it. The bells pealed out in short nerv- ols strokes as if ill tremulous fear, and at their impulse the young mans blood coursed through his veins in uncomfortable excite ment. It was but two minutes more when Philip drew up short at the mill yard gates, to escape the engine which swept by with a rush, dragged by crowd of shouting men. The people hatless, coatless, and some even barefooted in their haste, poured out of every street and alley way, and into the wide open gates, everybody talking and nobody listen ing.
 But Bertha had hardly spoken during the drive home, and now seemed very little in- | terested in the disturbance
 ''The mills are on fire," cried Philip, ! dropping his reins and turning his excited face toward her.
 ''So see," she said coolly, land hadn't you better drive on?'
 "Why, I ought to be here" He looked 1 nervously at the hurrying crowd and back into Berthas cold beautiful face "Couldn't you wait in one of these tenements! These l are all nice people,"
 But she made no motion, and only looked 1 at his flushed face in annoyed surprise. l "What are you thinking of? I stop with these people?" .-- 1 ''Or drive on home without me. The horses are gentle and you are such a good l driver, you know"
 l Philip was growing terribly restless; the l people came faster and faster, and his eager l eyes followed each man and woman into the 1 gates with increasing anxiety. Even Bertha noticed the curious looks the passers by gave l to the carriage that blocked the way. 1 sI couldn't think of it,' she said in l measured tones that reminded Philip, ever | at such a moment as that, of her fathers ''You had better drive along; there, not SC fast Why will you run the horses? You 1 almost frighten me-"
 It took but few moments to reach Bertha's honle, but it seemed 8 long time to Philip l v!o kept looking back over his shoulder al the flames which to his excited fancy seemed rising higher at every glance. He stopped | the horses at Bertha's door at last, and leap ing to the ground, assisted her to alight. The horses were panting, but there was no time even to give them breath, and ill an instant more Philip was back ill his seat. But Bertha stood as if she had something to say and he waited before he drew up the reins.
 to myself tonight"
 He thought there was mysterious touch o1 self distrust in her voice that was soft anG almost tender as she looked fxedly at him l An! he had never seen her so lovely; as Ii the warm passionate woman soul had beer
 born in her; and he longed in his rapture t( to fall at her feet and kiss them. He wa. forgetting the mill in flames as he drank il
 the new sweet hope she seemed to give him
 He could not leave her thus with that won
 derful light in her eyes. No doubt the fir,
 was subdued, and how little he could do a
 best; there were SO many stronger than he
 But suddenly tongue of flame leaped III
 into the black sky like lightning
 1T would so love to stay, darling, but tn,
 mills are on fire-my fathers mills. migh
 save them Don't you understand-it woul.
 be infamous in me to"-
 ''I only said you make mistake"
 Till he dies Philip Breton never will forge
 that scene; the darting flames beckoning hin
 away, and this beautiful woman, for who's
 first fond caress he would have given every
 thing but his manhood and honor, invitin
 him to stay. And in her changed face h
 thought he saw such sweet promise of lov
 if he stayed and such sure presage of evil i
 he went.
 ''Good night" he said with faltering voic
 as he drew up the reins.
 '.Good night," she answered slowly as sh
 turned to go in, and he thought he heard he , other sentence over again, "You make mis
 take"
 [ It was Number Two mill on fire, but al that ingenuity and strength could do scene A-s Ill n YeH HN