The Delta independent., 1889-08-27

ouu tiIo WINE moonlight Shln1ng on the
rugged Rocher Rouge, and mingling
with the glancing lights fitting about
In the steep, arched little streets, I
went to bed, feeling strange sense Of
familiarity and expectancy, which
strove in vain to account for. How
ever, soon fell asleep. and once moro
the old dream came to mo.
There was the violet sea laundering
on the beach, the shadowy purple hills
growing paler against the clear gold of
the dawn, and the strange, wild chorus
OF the bells surging and quivering
through the hushed air; and then, with
a gathering sense Of terror and fear,
the darkness, and that dead face yelled
in its coffin lying before me.
With sharp cry awoke to find this
was no dream but horrible reality,
for the room was rocking and trem-
bling with that sickening motion one
grows to know and dread in countries
subject to earthquakes, and terrible
sounds Of falling buildings were
mingled with the cries and groans of
those hurled beneath the ruins. The
sea broke on the shore with sound
like thunder, and above as the pc axis
seemed to shiver and crack, as huge
powders came tottering down on the
little city.
l sprang up, and hastily dressing,
CROPPED my way out Of the hotel, and
not a moment too soon, for as I reach
ed the road, which here sloped sharp.
ly down to the sea. the ground again
quivered and rocked slowly backward
and forward, and the whole building
fell into a mass of shapeless ruins, and
as the steep little streets seemed lean
ing together, the unearthly chorus of
bells rang out again and again, half
drowning the cries OF the terrified peo-
pie.
1t was all exactly as had seen it in
my dream, and l turned away with a
shiver. noting how familiar was each
detail, and feeling sick and dazed, and
helpless, when voice near recalled
me to myself.
'Ina, where are you? My God! where
can my daughter be?"
recognized the voice at once as
that of the old man had seen looking
at my picture, and the girls sweet
name sounded like a hymn of peace
amid the horrible scene.
WAS she in the Francia?" 1 gas ped.
yes" he replied eagerly; "she was
with me as we groped our way down.
stairs, but blow from some falling
beam hurled me hero, and she--where
is she?"
He strove to rise, but even as he
spoke another fearful shock came, the
ground oponed ut our feet, and with a
cry and hopeless clutch at the yielding
masonry of the wall by which he stood,
he disappeared, swallowed up before
my very eyes! Had been foot near
er must have gone. too. As it was, l
staggered and fell heavily. but only up
again. haunted by the horrible thought
that she was lying buried, perhaps
dead, underneath those cruel stones.
1 must fluid her! And nerved to
greater haste and energy by the awful
sight / had just seen, rushed into the
ruined house, calling:
.Inal Ina! where are you?"
Alas! there was no answer.
1 CROPPED my way over great heaps
OF debris through what had been the
hall of the Francia. Great jars OF rude
native pottery, in which grew orange
and palm trees, camellias and mvriles,
had been set against the walls oMaSsher
side. Most of these were no CO ,hed
and broken, but at the further md,
close to the solid stone staircase, stood
two. apparently uninjured. though half
buried. and in the dim light of the re-
turning dawn l caught glimmer of
white underneath ~ heavy
wooden beam which appeared resting
on these two immense vases. its fall
having been broken by the balustrade
OF the staircase.
1 hastened forward and as | reache d
the spot the first ray Of the Christmas
morning sunlight rested upon it and
showed me sort OF rough tomb Or al
cove formed by the beam resting on
the two unbroken orange jars. and in
it lay the girl ! was seeking. There
she was, exactly as i had seen her In
my dream, apparently dead the lovely
face IS 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 protected her from all the other de-
bris 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 II
hairs breadth), and Mt last was able to
draw her gently from underneath it
and carry her tenderly out into the
road, which was low rapidly filling
with carriages, into which wounded
and sick people had been lifted. for
greater safety than could he found in
the tottering houses.
In one OF The carriages TO my great
joy 1 recognized the face of Reginald
Doone's mother, a lady who was almost
as dear to me as my own, and VINO
always looked on me as one of her boys
and having been so much
together. She was now looking out