San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1888-03-23

,.optns or poverty IMAM wnaJ'sne Haa sver
dreamed OF, and instinctively she put her
hand into her pocket.
Half dozen pair of arms were held out
toward her, and half q dozen faces turned
eXpectantly in her direction, but the hand
came out of the pocket empty.
81 have nothing" she exclaimed, re-
Numbering with shock her own state Of
restitution, and realizing that che was
quite unable to confer anything on these
poor wretches.
Nothing" she repeated sadly, Eat
least nothing but this" and dropping her
gray fur huff into the hand of the pale
young girl, Clara entered the church.
The interior. of this place of worship
was like all Greek churches, by means of
pillars and arches divided off into the diff
ferent sections respectively reserved for
the priest, the male and the female por-
ton of the congregation. 1t was in this
latter outside division that Clara took her
place, sinking down exhaustedly on to the
first bench which came in her way.
The narrow grated windows let in but
a dim and mysterious twilight, SO that
coming from the open daylight Clara was
at first hardly able to distinguish the OBJ
jects around; but by degrees, her eyes be-
coming accustomed to the darkness, nu-
merous forms and figures seemed to start
up out of the obscurity around. Grin
ming, threatening devils were Turk
ing in every corner, and quaint By
zantine saints, with pale golden aureole
and shadowy palm branches, smiled
upon her from out each vaulted niche.
At another time Clara might have
cared to walk round the building and
examine the curious fresco paintings, by
means of which the Greek Oriental church
endeavors to make Ineligible to flliterate
humanity the rewards and punishments Of
future state. Just now, however, she
was too weary, too foot and heart sore to
have other thought but one of thankful
ness for the sense of reprieval and peace
which began to steal in upon her. BY and
by she would have to go out again into
the noisy, busting street, but not until
she had rested and gathered strength to
battle anew with the world, and mean
while she was here quiet safe and secure.
The church was deserted, for the hour
Of service was past, and only faint Od0r
of incense hung about the atmosphere.
Clara bent back luxuriously against the
hard, wooden bench, and thought she had
never been seated so softly in life. With
lazy enjoyment her eye rested on o pict-
ure on the piece of wall just opposite to
her. 1t represented pale faced, long
limbed saint, holding fat woolly laInbin
his arms; and, as she sat here, plunged in
sort of day dream, this image got some
how entwined with her thoughts.
She had a great deal to think over, for
this was the first quiet moment she had
enjoyed since starting on her journey,
and so much had happened within the
last week that no wonder she felt a little
dazed. and found it difficult to obtain
clear view of the situation. The death of
her little pupil, her sudden dismissal from
Count Froloff's family, the meeting with
Hugo Weyprecht, and the rapid growth
of their intimacy up to the moment of his
unexpected treachery-all these she
thought over in turn, dwelling principally
on the last most painful point. How could
she have been so deceived in him' and
yet how impossible not to be deceived.
He had looked so upright, so honest, so
trustworthy! How could falsehood look
so like TRUTH. treachery so like honestly
She had trusted him SO implicitly, and
why? as she now asked herself. For no
logical reason at all she recognized, merely
because he had a pair of steady looking
brown eyes and grave thoughtful smile.
After all she knew nothing of this man
to whom she had been ready to surrender
her heart; and passing over in review
every word of his, she wondered that it
had never struck her before how very
reticent he had been about himself and
his business. She had talked and he had
listened, but had given little or no infor-
nation about himself beyond mentioning
that he was q native of Hamburg and had
been living some years in Russia; but
where, or in what capacity, he had failed
to say. They had discussed Schiller and
Goethe Beethoven and Mozart, Canova
and Thorwaldsen together, and on each of
these subjects he had shown himself to be
well informed and intelligent, but she had
bean unable to form conjecture as to the
particular branch of science, trade or art,
to which he himself belonged. She saw it
all now clearly, and only marveled how
she could have been so blind before. Was
not this abnormal reticence about himself
proof positive of his guilty intentions? In
her tardy clearsightedness it seemed to
Clara that no explanation was too mon
Strous of the part Hugo Weyprecht had
played toward her; perhaps he himself
was in league with the brigands, and had
all along intended to rob her of her earn
tngsl That he had admired her was evil
dent, but he had no doubt merely sought
to enliYen the monoUony OF tiresome