St. Landry democrat. (Opelousas, La.) 1878-1894, 1889-12-14

hoy llau crushed TINS 1eItef Ill HIS 31diiu,
and walked on with the feeling that he
had nothing more to hope or expect in
this world. He had, in fact, been work
ing against hope for the last month, with
a cold, Departing feeling settling down
about his heart. He was one Of the COM
petitors for a prize, but each day he
passed his brush over the days WORK
with an angry vehemence celebrating
his failures.
II am gigantic mistake" lie said to
himself gloomily. There's nothing left
for me but TO go back to the button fac
tory. There's nothing in me, | can't
get up the ghost Of conception for a
picture. My figures look as if cut out of
pasteboard, my skies are like Aunt Rox-
anna'5 bluing, my rocks are pasty.
Heigho! could almost wish I'd lived
in those wonderful days Of magic and
wizards. If any obliging gentleman i'll
black should appear now and say, Roy
Mather, you shall have your hearts de
sire for the paltry consideration OF -,
Halloo, who are you tllmhling over"
A fierce ''sacre" came from the adj
yancing foe, but the next moment it was
changed TO Il greeting. a sailow faced.
dark eyed gentleman III black stopped
suddenly, and then said
ut is Monsieur Mather, ell? All! you
come, suppose, from your friend-ah
the poor young man-cut down like q
fiower'---
''What do you mean?" cried Roy, rec
nizing fellow student.
SIS it that you ask me3 Why, l
thought it was with you, Damon, and
what you call the other?a
''Never mind What is the matter
with Lang?'
"Oh! he is dying, that IS all!H
Roy turned away and walked rapidly.
He had been so occupied with his work,
having studio Of his own now, that he
had hardly thought Of Lang for three
weeks. and his conscience smote him.
But certainly Mather could not be SO
desperate OF his friend would have let
him know.
He made his way up the dim stairway,
meeting no one. When he pushed open
the door of Lang'5 room there was no
light or any sound save a half smothered
moan from the bed. ....-
He found a match after awhile and lit
a candle. Then he called his friend by
name, but there was no answer.
He took the light in his hand. A hor
rible fear was clutching at his heart as
he walked toward the bed, for the moan
ing had ceased. And at the first glance
it looked as if the shadow that lies in
wait for all of Us had indeed crossed that
threshold, and laid dim hand upon one
aching brow.
'He is gone, poor fellow" thought
Roy, land no one beside him to hear his
last words or to hold his hand in the SD
preme moment Perhaps, though, there
may be some faint pulse Of life. IF had
some stimulants''-
He bathed the cold face with water
first, and then looked about for some
thing stronger.
In doing this he saw an easel, and
upon it stretched finished picture, that
even in that faint and dim light glowed
With life and power. There was tall
headland, pine crowned, draped with
dainty ferns. Above it the misty air
seems like amber, the sky is Of melting
gold Below, the sea, with its emerald
light and foam crested waves and flame
opals of light And where the reeds
seem to thrill with the wind stands one
like lily queen,
miracle of snow and gold
1t is Miranda on her island. She looks
at Roy with fearless, innocent but tender
eyes.
She lives! It would hardly seem a
miracle if she stepped forth and touched
his hand. All! this is genius! He reoog-
nizes it with a groan.
And the man whose cunning hand has
done the work is lying there dead! It is
nothing to him now, that he would have
won the prize What arc earthly laurels
to him, who sees the au1aranth's death
less bloom2 What are all the triumphs
or the toll to one on whom new day
dawns in the land where there shall be
no night?
Il must take care Of this picture,
said Roy He would have given it to
me, and it viii not do to let it fall into
the hands off,
He had rolled it up with this thought,
and hearing the door open turned to face
n virago.
80, some one at last. And how is it
that you make your way into my house,
and ask no leave? The doctor it is who
has forbidden
The poor fellow is a friend of mine,
and if you win get little wine, think
he is i'll q faint
.'Wine2 All! but hear Docs he not
oGs me fifty francs? And he was to pay
with his grand prize, and here he has
escaped-died out Of pure iaalice-to
cheat me. But ! viii have all-all he
has had the grace to leave. Typhus, too;
that frightens my dodgers. All, am d
lone woman, and have no one to take my
part!'
',Typhusl'' cried Roy, looking at the
bed with a fear for himself selfishly
springing up in his heart. Here. take
this, and will send some wine for him.
He offered the woman money, and
then stopped once more over his friend.
There was no pulse.
Thanks; monsieur is Il gentleman, =
exclaimed the woman II will do all
for this friend but he viii not drink the
wine! Oh, no! the poor youth has
entered the habitations Of the blest, and
needs not the wine any more now. Mon
sieur must think Of his safety; the fever
is very bad,n
Roy did think Of his own safety. He
could do no more, and why should he
risk his life? He went down the stair
way once more, and with the picture
under his arm. Lang had left enough in
his room to pay funeral expenses, and
that was all that remained to be done.
There was no reason why Roy Should go
there again. He convinced himself of
that fact on his way home, yet he could