Waterbury evening Democrat. [volume] (Waterbury, Conn.) 1887-1895, 1891-12-21

worn, brown countenance out of which
the dark eyes shone with calm and
solemn gaze, the gaze of a man whose \
regard is fixed upon eternity rather than
upon time.
"Senorita," he said, so low that she |
stopped to hear him, yet so clear that |
Derwent, leaning against the door, heard |
every word, Il have asked you to come
that | may thank you for saving me
from the crime l should have COM
mitted this morning. know that you
are kind and gentle; have thought that
you might be sorry; and l wish to tell
you that it is well for me that am here
have been a very wicked NANNY soul
is stained with many crimes-and it is
likely that | should have died as have
lived had you not brought me here, to
make my peace with God. 1t is more
than deserve-far more than deserve,
senorita. Thank God when you think
of me, and pray for my poor soul"
$50 long as live," she answered very
gently, II shall pray for you, and shall
have the holy sacrifice offered for the
repose of your soul"
at is more than l deserve" he re-
peated again Tell the senior whom
tried to kill that thank God for pre-
serving him, and beg his forgiveness
with all my heart | have told the padre
where his watch can be found, but the
money, alas! is spent and gone"
Tell him." said Derwent, when this
was translated, that forgive him
heartily, and that he need not trouble
about the money. hope that God may
pardon him all his offenses against him
as freely as pardon those he has COM
mitted against me-"
"He is good" said the dying man when
| these words were repeated. "Senorita,
there is but one thing more. My poor
wife and children-if l could think that
you would care for them
Dona Zarifa placed her slender white
hand upon his as one who makes a sol
emn covenant.
"Be sure of it," she said. Il will bring
them here. | will see that they do not
want, and that your children have the
influences that alone will save them from
such a fate as yours, My poor brother,
be satisfied Of this. See! to make you
very certain, will promise on the image
of our Lord"
She took from his breast slender cru.
the last sacraments, and lifted it to her
lips, Then she touched it very tenderly
to his. He looked at her with all his
soul in his eyes, and with last effort Of
strength took the hand which laid the
crucifix again upon his heart, and kissed
that also.
1t seemed to Derwent, as he sat in his
own room, somewhat worn out by these
varying scenes, that the last was like the
memory of a sacrament. Could he ever
forget the expression with which that
man had regarded the beautiful and
tender face above him? And could he
ever forget the look with which Zarifa
had lifted the crucifix to her lips to seal
her promise to the dying criminal? ''She
is an ANGEL" said the young man to him.
self, with a rush of alteration which made
his heart burn as if with sensible fire,
"but she is as far above me, as far be-
yond my reach, as the very angels of Godl'
He rose from his seat and began to
pace to and fro, saying to himself that
he must leave Mirafores, that it was
impossible for him to remain longer and
restrain the expression of the feeling
which was passing beyond his control.
81 must go before l have forfeited her
friendship" he thought. IAN insane out
burst may do that any day, and nothing
could be more hopeless or more pre-
sumptuous. What am in her eyes, OF
those of her father, but mere adven-
turer, a stranger to whom they have
given hospitality in charity? And even
if they knew me for what | am, and il
the ruin both of fortune and of good
name was not hanging over me, how
could dream of aspiring to the greatest
heiress in Mexico? What was it some
one said-that her father would looL
only among the highest for an alliance
for her? He is right. Yet where car
any one be found who is worthy of her
Oh, my beautiful princess with the
courage of q warrior and the gentleness
, of dove, one man, who has nothing tt
offer you but the passionate homage Of
his heart, would thank God if he might
only die to serve you'll"
Presently he sat down again YEARLY
in his chair. The lassitude that follows
extreme emotion overpowered him. An6
then it was that he saw on the table 6
letter which had been placed there dur
ing his absence. He took it up will
some awakening of interest, for it wa
addressed in his mothers handwriting
''It is probably an answer to the accoun
of my accident" he thought as he brok'
the seal. And l have not given
thought to her anxiety. What selfsl
= being l ami"
1t proved to be what he imagined. Hi
-. mother had just received the news Of hi
wound, and the first pages of her lette
were almost hysterical in their distracte
= anxiety. 81 knew that something O
> this kind would befall you," she wrote
- II was sure of it when you insisted upo
: going to that savage and dangerou
" countryl have not had an hours re
= spite from anxiety since you left, an
= when received your letter saying tina
you were going into the mountains t
8 look for mines-and what can you wan
- with mines?-l said to Sibyl: He wi
% simply be killed. am sure Of it,
y the news that you have been shot is a
- awful shock to me, indeed, but no Sui
= prise. Under the circumstances suppos
. if will hardly SurnriSe Won that am noN