San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1890-06-04
MARIAN'S SACRIFICE.
By JEAN MIDDLEMAS5.

can the suspicion have anything to
do with her rather sudden plan of de,
parture? We have no means of knowing.
When that important person, the bar
Oness, in her own right, had done telling
her goddaughter for the fiftieth time, and
much to that lady's annoyance. not only
what sum of money she intended to be-
queath to her, but exactly what trinkets,
nay, even which of her well thumbed
PRAYER books, would be Marian's at her
death, and had mercifully rumbled away
in her old time chariot, Miss Peyton went
straight to the window to consult the
sky. for, from an ominous darkening of
the room some minutes before, she sus-
pected a sudden change for the worse.
Dear, dear" she says to herself; "a
thunderstorm, or I'm no augur. What
wetting they will have! \ brisk walk
within reach of shelter will be my wisest
plan, and save me too the trouble of
habting-nOt worth while at this hour.
Why, it is just 4, declarer
1t is quite relief when she finds her
self outside; but the nearing thunder is
distinctly audible.
Il do hope" murmurS the chatelaine,
they have not gone miles away"
Il know" she thinks, quite pleased at
the idea: 1.-The ruin! The ruin is the
very thing. Besides, they will probably
return that way"
Now the edifice in question was no
cockncy affair, but veritable relic of a
former manor house and church all in
one, dating from the days of Richard II.
In one nook of it Marian had manufact-
ured kind of summer house, where for
the sake of the view she and her visitors
frequently took tea. She had scarcely
reached this retreat when a fearful flash
rent the sky as it seemed, from pole to
pole, passing right overhead, almost in
stantly followed by terrific roll of thun-
der. At the same instant the rain
In tumbling torrents gan to pour
Marian is no coward, but in the awful
CONFUSION of nature she realizes more
than ever how frail is the thread of even
a strong young mans life, and humbly,
earnestly She prays for him. That done,
she continues to watch the impressive
scene through the glass door.
Il do lOve-oh. / do love him." she
mlIrmurs, thinking for the first time of
what it would he to lose him. Any
thing but that. Spare his life, kind
heaven, and will declare your severest
dispen5ations mprciful!'
1t has never dawned upon her that she
could lose him save by death. "Ahl how
good, how noble is John DaIyell! Such
a son, too. All, how proud shall be to
bear his name! May only be worthy"
Then with cry of joy, "Hark! Here
they come; but, horror! what do hear:
O-o-o"' and the exclamation dies in a
distracted moan.
1t is, indeed, the hoOfs of hOrses-Of
their hOracs-that strike upon her ear.
but racing, tearing in mad career. 1t is
not three seconds since she first heard
them. and now, why, they are close at
hand here!
Awful indeed is the sight that bursts
upon her vision. Revelation, doubtless
terrified by that binding streak of fOrked
lightning, is flying along at her utmost
speed, while Kate TemplemOre is dragged
by the stirrup along the ground. They
are passing within ten yards of where
Marian stands. When there, right Op-
posite the window, the stirrup, a patent
safety one though CHANGING to be some
what rusty, fortunately acts; the leather
slips back from the spring lock and sets
the poor rider free. At that instant Dal-
yell appears upon his spirited but out
paced hack, his face white as death, and
terror upon every feature. Refining up
his mount with a suddenness which al
most sends him and his steed Keeling
backwards, he filings himself off, and
leaving the animal loose PUSHES towards
the girls apparently lifeless form.
They are right in front of the glass
door which Marian had already opened,
when an underlined something within
her made her pause, and she stands there
spellbound.
My darling! my darling! speak to
me. You are not dead? No, no, one
word! a look"
So in agOnized accents pleads John, as
he kneeIs with his back to the summer
house, his right arm around Kate Tenn
plemore, whom he has partially raised,
while with his left hand he is wiping
away the mud and blood from the fair
face.
"Oh, wretch that am he goes on.
"Oh, that had never let you mount the
brute! have killed you-you for whom
would give my life; you whom alone
I love-"
Presently Kate opens her eyes, looks
wildly around her, then at John, starts