Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1889-03-10

The evening was over at last, and the
brilliant woman stood in the centre of
her own room loosening her magnificent
hair from the coils that had encircled her
regal head. Gilbert stood Watching her
Tor moment or two before retiring to
his own apartment, which opened out of
hers A sudden, foolish impulse took
possession of the man, self-restrained as
he had grown Of late, and he stepped up
/ to her.
Celia. Celia, dear wife have yon
not one word 10 give me ?" he said. half
brokenly but cold "good night was
the only answer to his appeal, and, stung
to the quick, Gilbert Burrell turned
away in silence.
1t was midnight, yet the woman he
left paced her room. and her little hands
clenched themselves passionatejy. It
seemed 10 her she held her whole life in
her own power. and might choose to
mould it as she would DUTY had little
ineaningt 10 her. yet not for nothing had
she lived these last few years with one
whose sense Of honor was high and ma
ture pure. Insensibly that ideal her
! husband reverenced had influenced her.
Now she did not think so much OF her
wealth and her luxuries as she weighed
the choice she had to make ; perhaps
! che got used TO them, and so valued them
the less. Yet with what she called love,
on one side, and against it only en- in
tangible something that held her back
| Though she could not name 1t even TO
herself) she hesitated.
AT length she throws herself upon
| her bed dressed as she lie, and sleep set
Ties on her eyelids. Conscience for the
time Is silenced in her breast, but it
keeps her husband sleepless as it
whispers Of the wrong he has done the
woman that he loved, and night deepens
toward the dawn.
Some impulse makes him rise at last
and go to her room. He shades the
night light with his hand and bends
over her as she lies flushed and smiling
IN her slumbers.
"Horacel Horace whisper the
warm and pouting lips, and Gilbert
grows ghastly pale, and his hand treln-
bles. His brain seems TO reel and there
is a strange noise IN his ears. He sinks
into low chair by the bed and trys 10
calm himself but that odd noise only
grows the louder. Surely, surely 1t IS
not bis own heart throbbing so wildly ?
Is it the wind rising or the sound Of the
distant water he wonders vaguely as 1t
grows louder and louder and ever seems
more near.
Fire Fire Fire /" comes q cry
upon the night, and then the rush OF
hurrying feet, and Celia springs from
her couch qtiyering with terror.
Save me, save me, Gilbert Why
don't you save me she cries but Gil
bert turns from her, hurrying to the
adjoining room where his child and hers
lies alone in its innocent helplessness
The father scizes the boy in his arms,
but Celia grovels at his ieet in utter
self-abandon. The surface polish hes
dropped from her and all the wild ami
NAL instinct OF self-preservatiOn awakens
within her and conquers every nobler
instinct.
A bitter smile curls Gilbert's lips for a
moment, and his soul is full OF unuitera-
BILE contempt-tnen his face changes.
Men think quickly in such moods as
his, and he chances at the beautiful cgea-
ture more IN pity than scorn. No wonder
life is sweet to her, since youth and
beauty and love-such love are hers.
He drags her to her feet, and holding
still his child rushes to the door. The
stairs are mass of flames already, and
exit by them is impossible, and he recog-
nizes that they three are alone in this
duarterof the house. Closing the doors to
shut out for brief moment by its frail
barrier the sitting smoke and heat, be
flies TO the window, which Is fortunately
open to the calm summer night. Below It
runs a narrow ledge of ornamental wood
work. Can he reach that numbered as
he is? 1t is the only chance, and danger
and hope give him strength, as further
along he sees ladder at another window
whence other frightened inmates are
making their escape. In that horror OF
danger it is, alas every man for himself
and his own. and Gilbert's cries for help
are all unheard How is he TO reach the
place Celia is all but helpless in her
terror, and the father and the husband
must choose between his wife and child.
The footing is of the narrowest, and had
he been the strongest of living men be
could not have helped two mt once
across that giddy bridge twixt life and
death.
Agonizedly he looks from wife TO child,
from child to wife, and as he looks the
shawl he has wrapped round bis inno-
cent darling drops from the little de-
formed shoulders. All what can life
/ be to such one ut best but pain ? AT
worst, such agony as he himself has had
/ to bear. And mean while the glorious
woman is cinging TO him for help, her
scented hair blowing against his cheek,
her soft white arms thrilling him with
their unwonted touch.
Zone moment, one moment, my
darling" he cries, as he places the child
on the ledge "cling to that outjut and
You'll be safe" And hastily, with that
unustural strength snch nervous organi-
cations alone can attain in times OF su-
premest tension, clutching here and there
an ornament, here and there a spar or
window frame, he half leads. half drags
the frightened woman toward the means
OF safety, and reaches the spot where
the open French window gives for mo-
ment surer foothOld, and below rested
the ladder OF escape.
" Let me have her, Burreill Let me
have her There's not a moment to
/ lose" cries a voice, and pair Of strong
arms are outstretched and WarburtOn' s
handsome face is lit up by q sudden jet
of fire amidst the smoke from the win
! dow.
Merciful Heaven Is it for this he
has saved her? TO give her into tie
very arms of the man who has won her
love With wild impulse OF frantic
/ jealousy he draws her closer-so close
/ that she almost ceases to breathe and
the jewels on her uncovered breast cut
into the white aud delicate flesh.
Next moment she feels the strain re-
lax. and the next has reached those out
stretched arms, lowered to them by the
/ help of the man whose heart she has be-
trayed. She reaches the ground, how
she knows not, and now the animal ter
{ IN hot rO-