Waterbury evening Democrat., 1888-02-21

 fully ill his steel blue eyes, His voice, that had seemed weak and unsteady as he be- gan, rang out its bell like tones again as he saw the sullen faces soften under his match less power.
 ''He has made your village blossom by his love; he has brought smiles to your weary chlldren's faces; he has planted hope ill thousand desperate hearts. Doyo ask me how l know! see it ill your eyes. see it in the way your heads rest on your broad shoulders. And will you use your new manhood to do him injury!"
 But the man with the bandaged head had reached the platform, and at this very mo- ment, when the orator paused to let his meaning sink into the hearts of the people, he touched Curran on the shoulder and whis- pered few hurried words in his ear.
 The people saw their hero's face blanch. He turned to the fellow with look that would break mans heart, and seemed to be asking him question. As the agitator lis tened to the reply his knees trembled under him and he sank into chair, and still the messenger of evil bent over him and kept ear. At last Bailes stood back from his vic tim, who bowed his head upon his hands, Curran's whole body shook with the violence of his passion.
 The inert people waited. They knew noth- ing else to do. Their hero might have died before them, they would never have thought to stir from their seats. But he rose at last, and Bailes grinned diaboically behind him. They would hear another story now.
 Friends you have heard what l said" He spoke as if a great weight was upon him and his voice came slowly. ''I repeat it, be we'll by your"
 But Bailes rushed forward and, tearing the platform at his feet. Disease had settled in his bruises and his face was frightfully swollen and disfgured. He might have been ghoul or gnome instead of a human
 Revenge him, men," he screamed, throw ing up his arms, Eff you have any spirit in you. I have just told him-some of you knew it-how that boy has stole his wife and spit on the laws, as if they were not for the
 It was more like groan than a shout that went up from the crowd before him, which only waited a word from the bowed, broken man they loved, to become bloodthirsty mob. Would he give them that worda He had leaped to his feet and thrown out his long right arm in its grandest gesture, and the murmur of the people died down. His face was as white as dead mans, an ashy white, but his eyes flashed lightning
 "Whose wrong is it then, this hideous crea- ture's or mine I will settle my own griev- ances, need no mob to right me-" Then Curran paused moment. When he began again it was in a lower tone. Besides, the man is wrong," his voice trembled like a child's. "I have no-no." he almost broke down, "I have no wife-I am-I am not well must go to my bed, but before I go want to be sure you will make no mistake tonight or tomorrow" He folded his arms across his broad chest in sublime effort of self control. His blood boiled in mad fever, every moment was worth world to him, agonizing pictures foated before his dimmed vision, but conquered this mob 'Philip Breton has shown himself fair to you, be fair with him. If he never did another thing for you-he-he has yet deserved your-your patience. You will excuse me now, will see you tomorrow, but need rest. Can depend on you" He did not even look at them; his attitude as he waited with downcast eyes, was of man who talks in his sleep.
 "Yes-yes," shouted the people, and then he turned and stepped off from the platform He came down the aisle very strangely. At first he would hurry and notice no one. Then, as if by a mighty effort, he would walk very slowly, then faster again. Then he would stop short and put out his hand to some perfect stranger.
 Many eyes watched him curiously when he separated from his eager friends at the door of the hall and walked rapidly away. If Curran had turned off to the road that led to Philip Breton's house on the hill he would not have gone far alone, but he did not even look that way so long as the half tanned mob ! could see him. And the people scattered in disappointment to their homes.
 | But Curran is no longer walking in his first 1 direction; he has turned on his heel and made a route for himself across the fields. His face is pointed toward the lights that yet shine down at him from the stone house on the hill. | And the roads are not straight enough for the errand he is on, nor is walking fast enough, he breaks into run. Now he falls over a low fence so violently that a limb might have been broken, but he only loses his hat and runs on, his long hair shaking down over his pale set face as he runs His breath comes like the puffing of locomotive; he can hear his heart throb louder than his foot l falls.
 | What does he seek? What will he do when | he looks again on his faithless and dishonored wife and on the man who has put this dead 1 Hest shame upon him! Punishment can wipe out nothing, vengeance never assuaged one pang of human anguish yet. But mercy or soul tonight, while the furies whip him on.