Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-01-25
COLONEL
By H. RIDER HAGGARD.

resting her aching head upon the bed prayed as she had never prayed before tha. this cup might pass from her.
 She did not know--how should sheg- that at that very moment her prayer being answered, and that her lover was then, even as she prayed, lifting the broken stone and revealing the hoard of ruddy gold. But so it was; she prayed in despair and agony of mind, and the prayei', carried on the wild wings of the night, brought a fulfillmen5 with it. Not in vain were her tears and sup plications, for even now the deliverer delved among
 The dust and awful treasures of the dead, and even now the light of her coming hap piness was breaking on her tortured night as the first cold gleams of the Christmas morn ing were breaking over the stormy fury of the void without
 And then, chilled and numb in body and mind, she crept into her bed again, and at last lost herself ill sleep.
 By half past 9 o'clock, when Ida came down to breakfast, the gale had utterly vanished, though it's footprints were visible enough in shattered trees, unthatched stacks, and ivy torn in knotty sheets from the old walls is clothed It would have been difficult to recog- nize in the cold and stately lady who stood at the dining room window, noting the havoc and waiting for her father to come in, the lovely, passionate, disheveled woman who some few hours before had thrown herself upon her knees praying to God for the succor she could not win from man. Women, like nature, have many moods, and many counte- nances to express them. The hot fit hwl passed, and the cold fit was on her now. Her face, except for tho dark hollows round the eyes, was white as winters snow, and her heart was cold as winters ice
 Presently her father came ill.
 "What n gale!" he said, 'what a gale! Upon my word, began to think that the old place was coming down about our ears. and the wreck among the trees is dreadful. don't think there can have been such a wind since the time of King Charles l. when the top of the tower was blown clean off the church-you remember 1 was showing you the entry about it in the registers the other day, the one signed by the parson and old Sir James de Ia Molle. The boy who has just come up tells me that he hears that poor old Mrs. Masseys summer house on the top of Dead Mans Mount has been blown away, which is good riddance for Col Quaritch. Why, what's the matter with you? How pale you look!"
 "The gale kept me awake; got very little sleep," answered Ida.
 "And no wonder. We'll, my dear, you haven't wished me a merry Christmas yet Goodness knows we want one badly enoughl There has not been much merriment at Hon. ham of late years"
 "A merry Christmas to you, father" she said.
 ''Thank you, my love; the same to you. You have got most of your Christmases be- fore you, which is more than have. God bless me, it only seems like yesterday since the big bunch of holly tied to the hook in the fnll I~l and smashed all the cups, and yet it is more than sixty years ago. Dear me, how angry my poor dear mother was! She never could bear the crockery to be broken-it was a little failing of your grandmother's," and he laughed more heartily than Ida had heard him do for some weeks.
 She mado no answer, but busted herself about the tea. Presently giancing up, she saw her fathers face change. The worn ex- pression came back upon it, and he lost his buoyant bearing. Evidently new thought had struck him, and she was in no great doubt as to what it was.
 "We had better get on with breakfast" he said. "You know that Cossey is coming up at 10 o'clock"
 ''Ten o'clock?' she said, faintly.
 "Yes. I told him 10, SO that we could go to church afterward if we wished to. Of course Ida, I am still ill the dark as to what you have made up your mind to do; but whatever it is, l thought that he had better once and for all hear your final decision from your own lips. If, however, .ou feel your self at liberty to tell it to me as your father, shall be glad to hear it."
 She lifted her head and looked him full in the face and then paused. He had a cup of tea in his hand, and it was held in the air half way to his mouth, while his whole face showed the overmastering anxiety with which he was awaiting her reply.
 "Make your mind easy, father" she said. 'I am going to marry Mir. Cossey." He put down the cup in such a fashion that he spilled have of the tea, most of it over his own clothes, without even noticing it, and then turned away his face. "Weu," he said, "of course it is not my affair, or at least only indirectly so, but must say, my love, l congratulate you on the decision which you have como to. quite understand that you have been ill some little difficulty about the matter; young women often have been before you and will be again; but to be frank, Ida, that sQuaritch business was not at all suitable, either i'll age or fortune, or ill anything else. Yes, al- though Cossey is not everything that one might wish, on the whole l congratulate you heartily"
 
 cry. "Whatever you do, pray don't con- gratulate mel"
 Her father turned round again and looked | at her. But Ida's face had already recovered | its calm, and he could make nothing of it. II don't quite understand you," he said; "these things are generally considered mat 1 ters for congratulations"
 But for all he might say and all that he | might urge in his mind to the contrary, he did, more or less, understand what her out burst meant. He could not but know that the exclamation was the last outcry of e l broken spirit. In his heart he realized then, if he had never clearly realized it before, that this proposed marriage was thing hateful to his daughter, and his conscience pricked him sorely. And yet-and yet-it was but a woman's fancy-a passing fancy! She would become reconciled tc the inevitable as women do, and when her children came she would grow ac- customed to her sorrow, and her trouble would be forgotten in their laughter And if not-well, it was but one wo mans life which would be affected, and the ery existence of his race, and the very cradle that had nursed them from century l fo ,< ckoy-o n1lx