The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1888-02-05
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PALETHORP'S PASSION.


pact, yelling crown: engines, horses,
ladders, policemen, shouts, tumult. a mid
summer sky stsr-dotted; from the third
story of the hotel broken fre-escape
hanging useless; among the crowd men. women,
children halfdressed. escaped from the flames
Suddenly the figure of young girl clad in a
night dress appears at of the smokeframed
windows, toward which tongues of flames are be-
ginning to stretch. If she shrieks
no hears. the noise and con-
fusion are so great She watches with
clasped hands the descent from the window of
man down the long ladder balanced against it.
The man carries an old woman scantily clad.
As be reaches the sidewalk and gives her into
the keeping of strangers there, the old woman
casts one look upward. sees the figure standing
ing at the window, exclaims. my daughter
Save herw and falls faintIng, The man does
not hesitate. Though smoke and fire have
grown more furious, he reascends. catches the
white, little. shrinking timid figure in his strong
arms, and once more feels his way down she
ladder amid the cheers OF the crowd. God
knows whether in those perilous moments the
mans heart beat quicker for the tight pressure
of that delicious burden so closely against it.
Reaching the pavement the girl, enveloped in
shawls thrown around her, exclaIms: You
have saved my life-how ever can 1 thank you?.'
"Your manner exclaims the man.
.'Curfew-Mary Curfew. And yoursp
The ladder falls They torn roughly apart
by the sureing crowd the question can be
answered. The girl and her mother find refuge
in neiRhboripg house, where clothing and shell
tor are provided. Worn out. they fall asleep in
each others arms. Their unknown preserver.
unharmed, is obliged to hurry from the dying
fire to catch the midnight train that bears him
30 distant city. All through the journey he
muses. upon the young, pure face that had been
pressed SO near to his. and he murmured to him
self repeatedly "Mary Curfew."
This rescue was the first brave act ever per-
formed. and gloried in it. | was physician,
only twenty-five. struggling for an existence
Nnmong the warfare of the medical profession In
New York city. was relationless and a bach
felor. On that summer midnight was on my
way to catch the train for Philadelphia, whence
"A had been autographed professionally. What
inspired me TO do the deed do not know. 1t
was my first act of heroic courage. Perhaps it
will be my last Very likely. Making my way
Through the crowd / Eaw the two helpless be-
ings, the old woman and the young girl. flame
beeirt AS bore the former in my arms
Thought simply of motherhood and the rever-
ence due to it. As clasped the girl against my
breast, as in q dream. felt the delirium of
burden had never felt before.
A year passed. had never got rid of the
image of Mary Curfew. 1t mingled with all my
duties and employments. In the newspaper ac-
counts of the fire her name did not appear.
Neither did that of her rescuer, for the falling
ladder had created panic in the crowd. and
scattered the inquiring group OF which he
formed the center. On my return from Phila-
deIpuia, where had been detained a week, 1
had bsen unable to trace her. She and her
mother-for such took the elder woman to be
had disappeared without a clew. The advent
ure promised no sequel.
bad only one intimate friend residing at
distance from New York, and him had never
seen. 1t happened in this wise: Occasionally
leavened hard work by reading a novel One
evening picked up "a Modern Inferno" by
new author, Edgar Raven. IL brilliant
piece of work. crude but powerful. showing
more imaeiuation than knowledge of life, and
betraying the effort TO make intuition perform
the task of experience. But it so full of
strength and charm that addressed the author,
through his publishers, one of those ingenious
letters of burning eulogy which are seldom writ
ten after twenty five. Result. letter of thanks
dated from the little town OF Siverton, in the
northern part of West Virginia. From those
two letters quickly famed an animated corre-
spondeuce at the rate Of three missives per week
from each party Presently found could not
give up this correspondence if would. Ravens
letters revealed virtue so rich. so varied,
delicate. so poe tic, strong and so unique that
resolved that the first time L could spare three
days / would traverse the five hundred miles
that separated and enjoy his company at
least for once, during the greater part of twenty
four hours There was no hope of his coming
hither. at any rate until his second novel should
be completed, and that would not be for
Twelve month longer.
1t was to this friend. toward the end of the
first year of our epistolary acquaintance. that
ventured TO speak of the love which had so
strangely and instantaneousy been borne into
my heart. / related to him the episode of the
fire and all the mpanying incidents. /
planned how the flames had stamped the girls
features upon my camera of memory. L stated
with all the eloquence could master the pro-
fundity and ineffacsability OF the impression.
His reply was sympathetic, appreciative. 1
wrote more and more upon the subject, until he
perceived how irrevocable was the grasp that
had been laid upon me. Judge of my surprise
when one day received from him letter con-
tanning the following sentence
''You will be amazed to hear that have dis
covered family residing In Silverton nam ed
lCurfew. will tell you more about them in
my next. How remarkaole, II the young giri
whom you rescued should prove to be one of its
mem bers!"
With what fever Of anxiety I awaited the
next letter! When it came the information was:
81 have made certain of the following facts:
shat the family of which i spoke is the only
family OF the name at SIlverton; that it consists
of only two persons; that those two persons are
a young lady and an old man."
An old man! 1t was an old woman had
saved. Then il was not my mysterious disap-
pearer after all. The next letter reawakened
hope, however, for it said: 81 have discovered
chat the young lady's Christian name is MAZDA,
mot Mary. May IL not be just possible that she
10 identical with the one you seek2 In the noise
and tumult OF the fire, is 1T not probable that
tered. for Maryf
Yes. that did ssem possible, and was thank
full that Ravens view of the matter conceded
with my own The next thing was to get the
dear fellow to procure me the address of Miss
Curfew, and to endeavor TO find out whether her
appearance conceded with my description of her,
aud also whether she had ever visited New
York. In due time came. tran
scribe only that portion of my friends letter
which relates 10 the matter in hand. 1t said:
have bean successful than you would have
feAu inc od TO live in the
last house toward the north of the main street that
runs through Silverton. It is white cottage,
rounded by garden. Last Sunday the young lady
was pointed out to Is | was leaving church. She
appeared to me to be far-many would call her beau
tiful-with the golden hair, the dark brows and The
slender form that have helped to captivate your
happy heart. But OH my friend have such a heavy
disappointment for you. The young lady is not Miss
Curfew. She is married She is Mrs. Curfew. She
Ss the wife OF that old
crushed the letter with n demons grip.
felt as though my head would burst with the
blood that surged into il. The room swan be-
fore my injected eyes There l sat l know
not how long; mute. motionless. in this cata-
- H. 4 4. a.