The Washington critic. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1889-1889, 1889-05-24

rang out again and again, half drown
ing the cries, of the terrified people.
1t was all exactly as / had seen " In
my dream, and | turned away with u
silver, noting how familiar was each
detail, and feeling sick and dazed, and |
helpless, when voice near recalled me |
To myself.
Una, where arc you? My God |
where can my daughter bey'
] recognized the voice at once as that |
of the old man i had seen looking at |
my picture, and the girls sweet name |
sounded like hymn of peace amid the
horrible scene.
WAS she in the Francia p gasped,
Yes" he replied. eagerly; she was
with me rs we CROPPED our way down
stairs, but a blow from some falling
beam hurled me here, and she-whcrc
Is she 2"
He strove TO rise, but even as lie spoke
another fearful shock came, the ground
opened at our feet, and with terrible
cry and hopeless clutch at the yielding
Masonry of the wall by which he stood,
lie disappeared swallowed up before
my very cyesl Had | been foot
| nearer | must have gone, too, AS IL
was, / staggered and fell heavily, but
| only TO struggle up again, launtcd by
the horrible thought that she was lying
buried, perhaps dead, underneath those
cruel stones.
l must find herl And ncrvcd to
greater haste and energy by the awful
sight had lust seen. rushed into
the ruined house, calling:
'Inal Inal where are your
Alas there was no answer.
groped my way over great heaps Of
debris through what had been the hall
Of the Francia. Great jars of rude ma.
tive pottery, In which grew orange and
palm trees, camclias and myrtles, had
been set against the walls on either side
Most of these were now crushed and
broken, but at the farther end close to
the solid stone staircase, stood two, APP
parently uninjmcd, though half buried,
and In the dim light of the returning
dawn caught glimmer Of something
white underneath heavy wooden beam
which appeared resting on these two
immense vases, its fall having been
broken by the balustrade of the stair
case.
! hastencd forward, and rs L reached
the spot the first ray of Christmas
morning sunlight rested upon ii, and
showed me sort of rough tomb or al
cove formed by the beam resting on the
two unbroken orange jars, and in IL lay
the girl was seeking, There She was,
exactly as had seen her in my dream,
apparently dead, the lovely face as
white as the draperies around her. The
huge block of wood had probably
knocked her down, and, falling above,
had been caught by the jars and so pro
tccted her from all the other debris
scattered around, partially walling her
in.
/ tore away the stones and broken
fragments with frantic hands (the beam
itself, of course, could not move by a
hairs breadth), and at last was able to
draw her gently from underneath it,
and carry her tcnderly out on to the
road, which was now rapidly filling
with carriages, into which wounded and
sick people had been lifted for greater
safety than could be found In the tottcr-
ing houses.
Y In one of these carriages, to my great
Joy, recognized the face of Reginald
Doone's mother, a lady who was almost
as dear to me as my own, and who
always looked on me as one of her boys
Reginald and having been so much
together. She was now looking out
anXiously, and recognizing me, stopped
the carriage. N.
Ina was still perfectly unconscious,
and with q few words of explanation |
4 left her in my old friends motherly
I care, promising to come back to them
as soon as all possible help had been
given TO the unfortunate people, many
of whom were still half buried beneath
the ruins of their homes.
/ feared TO face Ina. knowing what
her first words would be, and the ter
rible answer ] must give to them, aad
strove 10 forget the inevitable pain by
hurrying from place to place, assisting
rs best could those in need of help.
1t was very desolate scene, amid all
the beauty Of purple mountains aud
blue sea, that Christmas day shont
down upon. The little city lay in ruins
: with scarcely house still firm on its
foundations.
The cathedral alone seemed to hav,
escaped, and its bells kept up monot
onous ringing, and the chanting cam,
g down TO us in snatches of melody, the
blessed Christmas hymns sounding. un
l utterably sweet and comforting amid al
!, the pain and desolation.
At last some one suggested that tn,
l cellars of the Francia were very larg,
!; and solidly built, and probably many
! people were in hiding there, waiting t
= be released; SO party, including my
! self, began removing the tons of falleI
stones, bricks, ETC., and after great labo
succeeded in making an opening int
j the first cellar. We soon found ou
: ,labors were not in vain. for we coult
/, hear voices long before any one becam,
+ visible, and at last we reached them.
There were two cellars, one openins
7 out of the other We had succeeded
= in reaching the inner one, and found |
. crowded with people. Many of TIL
1 hotel servants had gone there on tn,
! ! first alarm, and few of the visitors hat
J. J. been guided by them, or had foun,
! their way there also; and, as thes
u people were gradually lifted out through
!, the hole we had made, what was IN,
i amazement to recognize Ina's fathe
. among them a,
. rubbed my eyes and thought tn
agony of the night must have turne
+ my brain, But no, there he was, Gov
2 cred with dust, indeed, and with bleed
! ing face and hands, but alive and CON
9 paratively uninjured,
q THANK Heaven " i exclaimed as
seized his hand. Dare | believe m
/ eyes after having seen you swallowe
l. up close to my feetY Thank HEAVIER
a. for Ina's sake |"
d Ina" he answered huskily; 'wher
ID Is my child 7"
le "She issafc. found her after yo