The Arkansaw traveler., 1888-10-20


 you, Francisco Santos, take your stand, one by each door, and keep those big brutes from crushing the women and children. Club them back, if needs be. Take time in passing out, my friends; there is no haste!"
 Having thus admonished his congre- gation and provided for its safety, Father Neal himself, in fitting illus tration of his words, without waiting for further ceremony, sprang through one of the church windows, and ran swiftly across the old graveyard which lay betw cen the church and the con- vent, tearing of his sacred yestments as he went, thus unconsciously bring ing to light gayly embroidered vel vet smoking jacket.
 It was plain from the first that to attempt to gave the old building would be desperate and losing fight. Such disasters were rare occurrence in the little rustic settlement, and men had no means ready with which to meet them. There were no hook and ladder companies, no hose- carts, no engines. Breaking out in the lower story, the fire had seized at once upon the old wooden stairway, which formed the sole communication with the third story, at whose windows a score or more of frightened women appealed in vain for aid. Buckets were brought, lines of men formed, and, with water dipped from 8 small reservoir in the rear of the convent, the men fought the consuming ele- ment, concentrating their efforts upon the old staircase, which formed path way for the flames and draught like @ blast furnace for the fire.
 "Oh, this is time wasted-worse than uselessl" expostulated Father Neal; "the convent will have to go. The women must be saved. Here, Ste- fano-some of you fellows! Help me bring up the old ladder that lies back of the church." But when the old ladder was brought, it proved so shaky and decrepit that Father Neal would not let the men risk their lives upon it until he had tested its strength himself, and he ran quickly up the rounds until he gained the topmost rung, not six feet below where the shrieking women were alternately calling upon their fellow beings for help and heaven for pity. But alas 1 half 8 lifetime of high living and test iug the good vintage of the old mis- sion had not tended in any way to de- crease the natural corpulence of the jolly padre, and just as he caught at the easements of the upper windows and called out some words of cheer to the terrified women, the latter gave way beneath his weight and he fell heavily to the ground.
 Across the road Santos brother had idly watched the crowds disappear in the little church, as he might have watched colony of ants travelling to and from their burrows. But when the services at length began and the droning chant was heard, any one who had taken pains to observe him might have noted that his gaze travelled further on and rested upon the old convent where Felicia, alas no longer the cheerful, light-hearted embodi- ment of her name, but heavy hearted and wet-eyed, awaited the hour and the summons that were to condemn her forevermore to barren and love- less life.
 "What! crying, childl Dost thou regret the call to purer, better life which thou art about to obey?" de- manded the mother superior, reproach- fully, coming upon the young girl, who endeavored to wipe away her tears unobserved. Felicia brokenly disclaimed any desire to escape from the pledges she was about to make.
 "Then go down, my child, and trim the Waxen tapers burning before the image of the Holy virgin,' and pray for strength to grow in grace after her most righteous pattern," said the mother superior.
 Glad to be by herself for one little moment. Felicia stole softly down the stairs, gathering her white dra- peries about her that they might not be soiled by contact with the stair case. She was little body, and the image was placed high up in a broad niche at one side of the entrance hall, so that she could not reach the tapers until she had dragged g heavy chair up to the place, and perched upon its back. With this insecure footing and her tear blinded eyes, what wonder that she trembled and lost her balance and fell, overturning the waxen tapers, which quickly famed up through the fimsy draperies and wrapped the wooden image in a sheet of flame, while the affrighted girl fled, shriek- ing and lamenting, back to the room she had left2
 Columns of smoke poured through the windows of the hoary old build- ing, and, wreathing about the old cypress trees outside, freed themselves again, to dart heavenward in fierce