The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1889-05-11
VOL. xXIV.-NO. 27.

help are all unheard. How is he to reach
the place? Celia is all but helpless in her
terror, and the father and the husband
must choose between his wife and child
The footing Is Of the narrowest, and had he
been the strongest of living men he could
not have helped two at once across that
giddy bridge 'twixt life and death
Agonizedly he looks from wife to child,
and child to wife, and as he looks the shawl
he has wrapped round his innocent darling
drops from the little deformed shoulders
All what can life be to such one at best
but pain? At worst, such agony as he
himself has had to bear. And meanwhile
the glorious woman is clinging to him for
help, her scented hair blowing against his
cheek, her soft white arms thrilling him
with their unwonted touch.
"0ne moment, one moment, my darling"
he cries, as he places the child on the ledge;
''cling to that output and you'll be safe "
And hastily, with that unnatural strength
such nervous organizations alone can attain
in times of supremest tension, clutching
here and there an ornament, here and there
spar or window frame, he half leads, half
drags the frightened woman toward the
means of safety, and reaches the spot where
the open French window gives for moment
a surer foothold, and below rested the ladder
Of escape.
/ "Let me have her, Burrell Let me
have her There's not moment to lose, "
cries voice, and pair of strong arms
are outstretched and Warburton's hand
some face is lit up by sudden jet of fire
amidst the smoke from the window.
Mereiful Heaven Is it for this he has
saved her? To give her into the very
arms of the man who has won her love
With wild impulse of frantic Jealousy he
draws her closer-so close that she almost
ceases to breathe and the jewels on her
uncovered breast cut into the white and
delicate flesh.
Next moment she feels the strain relax,
and the next has reached those outstretch-
ed arms, lowered to them by the help of
the man whose heart she has betrayed.
She reaches the ground, how she knows
not, and now the animal terror is past and
the woman in her re-awakens.
"Save him, save him, Horace Save
hiEi and my boy y she cries, as she sees
once more on the giddy ledge the dark
figure of her husband elasping his child
and hers to his breast
Once again that perilous walk is attempt
ed, but the child can give no help, and the
father is all but spent and totters at each
step, while now from every window tongues
of fire leap out to catch the woodwork on
which he rests.
A cry goes up-"Wait, wait, well bring
the ladder nearer r and willing hands and
throbbing hearts make rush to carry out
the promise, Warburton not the last; but
even as that cry reaches Burrell it is too
late for any aid. A false step, momen-
tary loss Of balance, and through the hot
sulphurous air there fall to earth father
and a child, locked in each others arms.
In that moment of horror Celia's soul is
born to conscious life, and she drops on her
knees by his side.
''0h Gilbert, Gilbert, | was not worth
it, she cries, as she covers his face with
her tears and her remorseful kisses; but
the dark eyes gaze into hers moment ere
they close forever, and the soul of the man
looks through them and she knows herself
forgiven. In that glance she gains her
FIRST conception of beauty that is more
divine than human, the beauty of a soul
that loves unto the death and grudges not
the very ifeblood that is oozing from the
dying lips Now she could have loved
him, but it is all too late Only his child
remains, the child that is saved as by a
miracle, for scarcely has he received a
bruise in the fall that has killed the father
the father whose mangled body lies be-
tween the little one and the cruel stones of
the courtyard.
Celia draws the boy to her heart and
tries to comfort him-she who never be-
fore thought of lessening any pain that
was not all her own.
Morning follows night, and night the
weary day, be human sorrow and remorse
never so great, and weeks have passed
away, but Celia has never once granted
audience to Horace Warburton. He
shrugs his shoulders and smiles eynically
- tho fntarvaiS of his ,..t,oe Of NON. g NV