The progressive farmer. [volume] (Winston, N.C.) 1886-1904, 1889-02-26
Romance Of California.
WRITTEN FOR THE PROGRESSIVE FARMER, BY
Joaquin Miller.
Copyright by the AuthOr.)
CHAPTER XII.
rae pEATH on sANELLo.

all Sn0 S00uQ0u 10 NC dC AO@oI WI J
older now, and went about her strange
ways and prescribed walks OF lie with a
sobered and earnest step.
But Sanello was i'll. She was penslVe,
silent. more than sad. Her illness seemed
to be an illness of soul as well as OF body.
But John Gray saw little of her now.
And if he saw but little of her, he saw
nothing at all of Farla. They seemed to
be drifting far, far apart now; and that,
too, Just as he began to know the strength
and the deep mystery of her soul. Hereto
fore he had seen only the strength and
and beauty of her body. He had stood
serenely above the temptations OF these.
But now, after what had passed, he came
slowly, certainly to know something OF
her matchless truth and glory.
And this made him shy; this made HIM
avoid her. And she, seeing how he
avoided her, responded in kind. Mol Do
not ask me to stop and give the reason, if
reason there is. 1t have only time to
hastily set down the facts; the effect.
Find the cause for yourself.
The season wore away; and the elbows
of the artists coat with it; in a fgurative
sense at least. The mystery of the Buried
River remained as deeply buried as ever.
The enterprise, the light, was surely fad
ing out of the mans life. He was mis-
cradle; almost Indifferent nov to the n
great purpose of his existence.
One afternoon late in the season, as the
artist climbed up the hill to his cabin after
a long and hard walk from the town away
down in the valley, he saw Farla standing
by the path, evidently waiting for him.
Her old nervousness was on her. With
out knowing it she was tearing the thorny
thistle heads, and her hands were bleed
ing.
"Mr. Gray, 1 want you to come to our
house. Come now, at once. Sanello is
i'll. Relic is so sick, Mr.. Gray, that we
are afraid she will die. Father has gone
for the priest. Come, come and help us
if you please"
The mans hat was in his hand. He
walked hastily at her side; an empty hand
sought hers, and held it as they walked on
and entered the stoutly built door. 1t is
safe to say that she did not know that he
took her hand. 1t is also safe to say that
he would not have touched it at any other
time.
The dying sister lay moaning and I'M
conscious. The poor mother was dumb
with misery. The little children stood in
groups about the large room in silent awe
A stranger was coming. A stranger that
had never set foot over that broad door
sill before was not far off, He was surely
coming straight for that house. 1t was
Death. The children seemed to know
this, and were awed to continual silence.
at seems to me that something dread
full is going to happen," said Farla to her
companion, as they stood close by the
dying girl.
n hope not, Farla," said the man
softly.
"You>don't know all, Mr.. John Gray"
she went on. a must tell you. You
know Swain went away"
eyes"
"And, OH if he had never come" muir
INJURED Farla. "And now I must tell you
were secretly married."
"Then Swain should be sent for, and
be at her side," said the man firmly.
"That is it. You see Relic told mother;
and mother was afraid to tell father, till
after Swain was gone to the Sandwich
Islands; and now we don't know where
he is"
AS they spoke the father came in .with
uncovered head; the good priest, red
faced and painting, close at his side.
"The doctor has gone away" moaned
the mother, " and says he can do no good
any more"
The priest put out his hand above the
troubled old herd before him; but could
not comfort her, or quiet her moaning.
The dying girl gasped, started, half
in bed, and throwing out her half
robed arms in a wild eager way, walled
out, II want-I- want my-my little
And then she gathered in her empty
arms, and so looking steadfastly ahead,
and half smiling, as if she saw what her
hungry heart 50 much desired, she sank
back dead.
"Father, Father shrive her, bless her,
save her SOUL" ~piteously walled the
mother.
The Bonded, holy man laid his two
hands on the still head, and silently pray
ing, offered all the consolation his lips
could utter. The mother seemed COM
forted, a little at last, and standing by
the side of her dead she put back the
heavy mass of hair from the poor, sweet
face, and then kissed 1t tenderly.
Then looking up at the priest she said:
We forgive her for keeping the secret
from US; God will forgive her for marry
ing without letting us know; and surely
you knew what was best and what was
right"
The good Father began to look at her
as she went o n "And it was so good in
you to come so far; so good in you to
come up the steep mountain. But / did
want you who married her to bless her.
But II did not marry her. I did
not perform the ceremony"
Back IN a darkened corner, for night
was falling, you could have heard the
teeth OF a giant grind together like mill
stones. Two huge hands clenched till
blood ran down.
"You did not marry her? And she
was not married thenP shrieked the
mother.
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