Herald and news. [volume] (West Randolph, Vt.) 1878-1943, 1891-11-12


regret it? II sne had not shot him YOU
would be dead and there cannot be
much doubt CT the relative value of the
two lives And it will save him trouble
if he dies now-after having spoken
for if he We're to recover it would only
be to be marched ont and shot as high
way robber. Such crimes are dealt with
summarily here"
Derwent could not but smile in
that case it win be better for him to die
comfortably in your hospital. with Padre
Franciscos gentle ministrations, he
said. But l am grieved beyond meas
ure that Dona Zarifa should have been
forced to an act so painful to herself in
order to save my life. 1t almost makes
me regret that | ever came to Mira
flores.
NONSENSE" said Don Maurizio, good
naturally. IF she feels any pain on
the subject--which cannot belieye-ft
shows morbid spirit that would not
have suspected in her. | am proud. my
| self, that she rose to the occasion SO well.
She should be grateful to have had the
opportunity not only to save your life,
but also to clear Senior Barrera IF cry
dark suspicion as | am sure this mans
confession will clear him"
II hope il will, said Derwent: '-but
to take human life-that is hard even
for man.
"To take human life-the life Of a
cowardly assassin--when il is TO save
| the life of an unconscious man at whose
back he has leveed his gun." cried Don
Maurice with impotence. not UNI
mingled with scorn. II should feel no
more regret for that necessity than for
shooting tiger in jungle. Neither
would you Neither. | am certain. does
Zarifa. The marvelously fortunate
thing is that she came upon the ground
just at that moment when her presence
was needed"
YES" said Derwent; .'if she had
been minute later | should not be
walking here with you now.
He looked around, rs If with sudden
sense of how near the peril had been.
and how narrow the chance that he
would ever look again upon the beauty
of earth. Never had that beauty seemed
to touch him more keenly than in con-
nection with this thought The long
shadows of late afternoon were now
stretching across the grounds through
which he had watched Dona Zarifa walk
ing in the morning. unconscious, as most
of us are when the dark wing of Azrael
most nearly overshadows us, that he
might be- looking his last upon that
gracious form: the wide plain stretched
into magical blueness affair TO meet the
luminous sky, the distant purple heights
had more mystic charm than ever in
his eyes, and the fresh. delicious air
seemed fraught with blessing. He had
feeling as if new life were given to
hiln-a life divided from that of yester-
day by the gull of a great danger, and
life which was the gift (after Cod of
Zarifa. sit is owing to her that | am
herel' he thought. after a rush Of emo
ton, a sense that existence had become
something dearer and more precious for
that fact. 'She will tell me that she
would have done the same for any one,
anu hiiQN tldt Nnf NbliA nav tioilt II
for the poorest peon in Mexico. Nom
ter. 1t was for me that she did do it.
Nothing can alter that"
Almost oppressed with these thoughts,
and also with the passionate desire TO
express them On modified form, he
sought Dona Zarifa when he entered the
house, but sought her in vain. He had
10y this time learned most of her haunts.
but in none of them was she to be found
No one had seen her for hours-not
since, after having done everything
that il was in her power to do for the
wounded man. She had returned to the
house and gone to her own apartments
She was not there. however. when Der
went, waylaying her maid. asked for
her. mo, the senoT1ta has gone out"
Marcella made him understand. II saw
her pass across the court short time
ago"
Ii will not say much for Derwent's de-
yotional instincts that it was only when
he was altogether baked in his desire to
express his gratitude to Zarifa that he
thought of offering the same sentiment
TO God. Perhaps he would not have
thought of it at all-certainly not of |
taking his way to church for the pur-
pose-had not the atmosphere of Mira
flores begun to tell on him. But he had |
a nature readily impressed by all things |
beautiful, and most readily by those |
which were beautiful in the moral rather
than in the physical order When he |
saw the whole household of Mirahores,
and all those on the hacienda who were
able to do so. gather every morning in |
the beautiful chapel for the most august
of all acts of worship-when he saw all |
day long men. women and children pass
ing through its open doors, seizing few
moments from their toll to offer petit
ton, TO leave thanksgiving, or simply |
TO rest soul and body as in the shelter of
a fathers house-the beauty of it struck 4
him more than words can express. The
lovely church. with its never dying altar
napaa and ffe atrno1r,hera Of frffni+.. 4, L.,