The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1890-01-05

had ever seen. At last it came to my
turn to have a present-oddly enoESh,
considered in the light of future events,
it was a large monkey. She reached it
down from one of the lower boughs of
the tree and handed it to me, saying:
Dat is my Christmas present to you,
little Allan Quatermain."
AS she did so, her sleeve, which was
covered with cotton wool, spangled over
with something that shone, touched one
of the tapers-how 1 do not know-and
caught fire, and the flame ran up her
arm towards her throat. She stood quite
still. 1 suppose that she was paralyzed
with fear; and the ladies who were near
screamed very loud, but did nothing.
Then some impulse seized me-perhaps
instinct would be a better word to use,
considering my age. l threw myself
upon the child, and, beating at the fire
with my hands, mercifully succeeded in
extinguishing it before it really got hold.
My wrists were SO badly burned that
they had to be wrapped up in wool for a
long time afterwards, but with the ex-
ception of a single burn upon her throat,
little Stella Carson was not much hurt.
This is all that 1 remember about the
Christmas tree at the hall. What hap
pened afterwards is lost to me, but to
this day in my sleep l often see little
Stella's sweet face and the stare of terror
in her dark eyes as the fire ran up her
arm. This, however, is not wonderful,
for 1 had, humanity speaking, saved the
life of her who was destined to be my
wife.
The next event which 1 can recall
clearly is that my mother and three
brothers all fell i'll of fever, owing, as l
afterwards learned, to the poisoning of
u well by some evil minded person,
who threw a dead sheep into it.
1t must have been while they were i'll
that Squire Carson came one day to the
vicarage. The weather was still cold,
for there was q fire in the study, and 1
sat before. the fire writing letters on a
piece of paper with a pencil, while my
father walked up and down the room,
talking to himself. Afterwards l knew
that he was praying for the lives of his
wife and children. Presently a servant
came to the door and said that some one
wanted to see him.
at is the squire, sir" said the maid,
"and he says he particularly wishes to
see you"
Very WE'LL answered my father,
YEARLY, and presently Squire Carson
came in. His face was white and bag
gard, and his eyes shone SO f~iercely that
I was afraid of him.
Forgive me for intruding on you at
such a time, Quatermain," he said, in a
hoarse voice, s'but tomorrow l leave
this place forever, and l wish to speak
to you before 1 go-indeed, I must speak
to you"
shall I send Allan away" said my
father, pointing to me.
mo, let him bide. He will not under
stand" Nor, indeed, did I at the time,
but L remembered every word, and in
after years their meaning grew on me.
First tell me-" he went IN, show are
they and he pointed upwards with his
thumb.
"Mywife and two of the boys are be-
yond hope" my father answered, with a
! groan. Il do not know how it will go
with the third. The Lords will be done.'
1.-The Lords will be DONE" the squire
echoed, solemnly. "And now, Quater-
main, listen-my wife's gone"
"Gone." my father answered. "Who
WITH"
"With that foreign cousin of hers. 1t
seems from a letter she left that she al
ways cared for him, not for me. She
married me because she thought me a
rich English MILFORD. Now she has run
through my property, or most of it, and
gone. 1 don't know where. Luckily,
she did not care to cucumber her new
career with the child; Stella is left to
me-"
THAT is what comes of marrying a
papist, Carson" said my father. That
was his fault; he was as good and
charitable a man as ever lived, but he
was bigoted. "What are you going to
do-follow herr"
He laughed bitterly in answer.
"Follow her." he said; 'twhy should l
follow her? If Imet her Knight kill her
or him, or both of them, because of the
shame they have brought upon my child's
name. No. | never want to look upon
her face again. TRUSTED her, 1 tell you,
and she has betrayed me. Let her go
and find her fate. But / am going too.
l am weary of my life"
"Surely, Carson, surely" said my
father, 'you do not mean
mo, no; not that. Death comes soon
enough. But / will leave this civilized
world that is q living lie. We will go
right away into the wilds, my child and
l, and hide our shame. Where? / don't
know where. Anywhere so long as there
are no white faces, no smooth, educated
tongues"
"You are mad, Carson, my father an
swered. How will youlive? How will
you educate Stella? Be a MAJ and live
it DOWN"
81 will be a man, and l viii live it
down, but not here, Quatermain. Edu-
cation! Was not she-thau woman who
was my wife-was not she highly educa-
ted!-the cleverest woman in the coun-
try forsooth. Too clever for me, Quater-
main--too clever by half. No, no, Stella
shall be brought up in a different school;
if it be possible, she shall forget her very
name. Good-by, old friend, good-by for
ever. Do not try to find me out, hence.
forth / shall be like one dead to you, to
you and all I knew" and he was gone.