Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1890-09-18
THE BEAUTIFUL CLAUD|NE.


brilliant with the setting sun, the eve
ming mail man passed in jolting rum
BILE of wheels from his ancient carriole,
and ringing Of hoOfs from his meagre
mare. Then it was that Claudine the
beautiful Claudine," as the villagers
called her, showed herself at the sill of
the little white cottage, her hand above
her eyes, her elbow elevated. She
stood there silent and motionless. like
a picture in lighter tints against the
darker back ground of the chamber,
but with joyous expectancy dawning
in her eyes.
Far away over the peaks, the sun
was sinking to rest its last rays climb
ing slowly from horn to horn Of the
wooded hills, lighting up the sombre
verdure of the oaks with points of
brilliancy, quivering like flame against
the blue horizon and enveloping, as
with a parting caress. the rounded
summit of a naked hill, whose long
slopes ended at the turning of the road
that stretched into the shadow, a strip
of dull greyness, soft as a ribbon.
From among this chain of hills, ex-
tending as far as the eye could reach
in the gathering evening light, rose the
deep and sonorOus cry of the carriers,
urging on their beasts, engaged in haul
ing the stone from the qualres which
gnawed out the heart of these same
peaks, still touched at the crest by the
dying sun. 1t was here that Claudine's
thoughts were rowing in search of her
man.
In her mind she saw him plainly
this toiling quarryman, young and
handsome as herself, perched aloft on
frail scatfolding and working at the
quarry's roof in the tremulous light of
lanterns like twinkling stars, the
monotonous clink, clink of the ham,
mers repeated by the drip. drip of the
subterranean waters, But now, since
the evening postman had gone by,
Ciaudine knew that the days work
was ended her man descending with
others and arranging his tools-quck-
", too, thinking of Der and impatient
for her kisses.
In fact some of the men, in gaudy
belts and with coats thrown over their
shoulders, had begun to appear,
climbing briskly the steep white road,
their voices mounting higher and
higher, like the waves of sunlight, and
rough and rude as the country. All at
once, even whilst she searched with her
gaze the fast crOwdng pathway
cloud Of dirt and debris leaped high in
the air, followed instantly through the
valley by crash like thunder. The
quarry had blown up. And Claudine
lay scnseless on the ground.
Under the Quilted earth, covered
with crumbled houses, cracked and
crushed us by Il monStrous hammer,
deep in the black and inaccessible
depths of the buried galleries, fifty or
more of the quarrymen were buried
also. deSpairinw, hopeless of rescue,
dying perhaps. if not already dead.
AT the point where the engineers
worked with heart and soul to pierce
an entombed gallery, Claudine knelt
beside them, eager, heart-sick, refusing
to stir a step and still awaiting her
man.
For eight days she had remained
there unable to believe in the disaster.
unable to be conSoled, her brrning
eyes stubbornly riveted upon the open
ing, little by little growing larger
But these efforts provoked new crumb-
lings-the waters flooded the passages
the work had to be stopped. Then aud
not till then did she climb the hill to
the place where the men who had es-
capped the disaster strained at the
pumps.
But soon the pumps, too, gave out,
choked. doubtless, with the rubbish
that refused to flow. The rescuers,
white, haggard, helpless, sorrowfully
disbanded and turned away. Claud-
inc remained alone by the ravaged
earth, the abortive, abandoned work.
crushed, inert, feeling in her anguished
soul but Il single desire-to be herselj
at rest.
"Claudiuer murmured voice at
her ear.
She raised her eyes 1t was quarry
man by the name of Pierre. whom she
had noticed toiing with the others.
She saw his blistered hands. the soil on
his clothes, and suddenly, without
word before the plying sorrow of his
gaze burst into storm OF tears.
AS for Pierre, he. TOO, found no word
to say. but sitting beside her allowed
her to cry on, strOking her hand ten
derry at every sob, an answering grief
dimming his own ewes. Gradually as
she grew calmer Claudine knew that
Pierre was talked to her of things
whose sense still escaped her, but
whose soft. soothing monotone quieted
her to the docility of child.
She listlessly permitted him to draw
her with him, scarcely conscious OF
what he did, whilst he with Il gentle.
solicitous care that one shows 10 a
sick mind and fancy coaxed and per-
suaded her homeward, as from time to
time she stopped with long signs and
renewed tears.
The long days passed; the imprisoned
men were lost. untindable, dead. they
declared, crushed bv the falling rocks
or thrown out bv the enormous force
of the air from the crumbled caverns.
To hear this was a relief to Claud-
ines strained nerves and senses; they
were not tortured, and in the long I'M
occupied hours when they talked and
speculated thus she listened sadly and
in silence, but finding certain
pleasure in this development of neigh.
borly pity.
She seemed to herself to be awaken
ing from long sleep, to be returning
from distant journey; at the same
time, though unconscious of it at first,
the eXigencies of the present and of the
coming life began to present them
selves to her mind. She had her life
TO take up again and, perhaps-with
progressive growing of slow fear-to
take it up with want and solitude