San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1888-02-15


CHAPTER w.
We are taught to believe that In the
spirit world, where all Is happiness,
thousand years seems but day; and
true IL is that when with those who are
In sympathy with US, the precious hours
OF our short existence pass swiftly, and
we exclAim: "Is 1t possible how time
flies" Such were WHY'S words when
after many years Of happy married life,
he and Lillian sat outside OF their cot
tage one summer evening, their two
children playing at their feet, While
Berths (Harry's child) WAS seated near
holding them spellbound with her superb
voice. She was nearly a woman then,
the picture Of her mother twenty years
ago, her lovely face, dark curly hair,
sparkling brown eyes, and graceful
figure, made many a man OF the great
metropolis turn TO look at her with I'M
disguised admiration. Great pains had
been taken with her education and she
was then spending her last holidays,
previous to leaving the London school.
The low murmurings OF the waves, rs
they fell languidly on the sands, formed
a weird but striking accompaniment TO
Bertba's song, the first she ever sang,
taught by her mother, IL having been
poor Hnrry's favorite.
Her clear, pathetic voice had attracted
n stranger, who stood within hundred
wards OF them; evidently he was an old
man. for his form was slightly bent, sup
ported by n stick, and long white hair
hung down his back, his face was pale
and then his head was uncovered as
though within some sacred precinct.
Surely what he heard reminded him OF
the past, perhaps Ii brought back to his
memory loving child or wife long since
dead, who used to entertain him thus;
deeply he WAS touched, for he sobbed
aloud, his limbs trembled. as at the
closing lines OF the song, "Will you re-
member me-" died.away over the sea,
deep sigh escaped him, and be sank to
the ground; he had tainted. In q moment
viii, who heard him fall, was by his
side and bore him into the cottage.
When he recovered, the strangers
remarkably bright eyes wandered from
viii TO Lillian, then TO the two children,
and finally resting enquIringly on
Bertha's sympathiZlng face.
How do YOU feel now slr?' will Ell.
quired.
81 believe am quite well, have TO
thank you for helping me. | think |
walked too far l am not as strong as |
could wish"
81 am sorry for that sir. You ought
to stay here for week or two, you are
welcome II you will remain with u.s."
Thank you very much but-but |
cannot. | will go back to the inn"
"Why sir, you can't walk four miles
tonight, there isn't a carriage In the
village. Lillian make up bed for the
gentleman, he must stay here tonight
at least" She had already prepared
their own room. Come sir, let me help
you TO bed; good nights rest will do
you the world OF good"
With some reluctance he consented,
and soon the little household was wrapt
in slumber.
But not so with the stranger. His
eyes never closed; he crept about the
room, candle In hand, looking at every
ornament and picture with the greatest
curiosity; not q shell, or Enthusiastically
shaped pebble escaped his observation.
The following day Will made the
stranger promise to remain In Hazel
wood till his return, which would be but
a few days at most.
They sat on the low rocks after
Will had departed, Lillian with her
knitting on the right Of the stranger,
Bertha on the left, she WAS nursing her
knee, and dreamily looking out to sea.
Harry, the eldest Of WINS two children,
was busy near by, digging out and pill
ing up the sand to build castle for his
little sister, who sat In the middle Of the
enclosure, watching with delight the
gradual rising OF the wall around her.
"You have not told US your name yet
r."Lillian said, glancing at the stranger
who she felt was Watching her every
movement. He turned his eyes from
the face, which, though faint lines
marked her brow, was still beautiful.
"My name is Walthers, | ought to
have told you before, you must excuse
me-"
us your home in England, Mr.. Wal
thers?"
81 have no home Mrs. Marsden."
"Whst made you come to such an out
0f-the-way place as thb?' Bertha en-
qulred. He hesitsted for a moment.
my home is everywhere. For years
lived in the far West, where hundred
times | have been face to face with
death-desth which seemed Inevitable.
For seven days was prisoner in the
hands OF Indians, and, but for slight
service rendered to little Indian boy,
| never should have lived TO hear your
"
"Were you afraid?" Bertha inquired,
full OF interest.
mo, far from 1t, did not care; did
not value my life then as have during
the past twenty four hours"
"Can you-will you tell us why you
lost all interest in life," timidly
inquired Bertha. 81 could, but
why should | burden you with my
trOublesP | would forget them; yet /
would not, for though memory some
times pierces ones very soul, yet there
are moments when the recollection OF
years gone by brings hope of some
thing-a future-in which, Heaven
grant there may be a union Of souls. a
union which nothing can sever, union
which shall bind, at least, me to one
whom | love, whom | have wronged.
G cd forgive me-"
Bertha, whose eyes filled with gym
pathetic tears, tried to turn the CONVERSE
ton.
The strang + struggled for composure.
Yes" he continued, my home is
everywhere, and since have no need to
work, and am alone with no one to care
for, l wander FROM place to place doing
good where | can, and enjoy the pleas
ure which the happiness affords me.
Last night having put up ut an inn,
three or four miles away, | took advan-
tage OF the lovely night and strayed into
this village. Your singing, Miss Bertha,
brought my past and what might have
been, SO vivisly before me, that for the
fret time 10 my life bro Ike down, and
your kindness to me shall never, never
forget" His voice grew husky. Both
his listeners hearts warmed towards
him and he continued. although be-
ing here with you makes my beast ache
with longing for what can never be, |
would not part with one word or look [