San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1892-01-25
Withdrew.


ing everything pass through his own
hands-of knowing all the ms and outs,
the minutiB of daily happenings.
"What is it1" questioned Ethel indo-
lently.
"a dispatch for you. Shall open it9"
"If you like. hate dispatches. They
always suggest unpleasant possibilities
It's local, so guess it's from my aunt,
about that publishing dinner of hers"
Cecil tore open the envelope and read
the few words it contained with length
ening visage; then he let his hand fall
and stared blankly across at his wife.
"It's from that fellow! and it's about
the child" he said uneasily.
"What fellow? What child? Not
minel Give it to me quickly, Cecil.
How slow you arer" And she snatched
the telegram from his unresisting hand.
Hastily she scanned the words, her
breath coming in gasps, her fingers
trembling so that she could scarcely
hold the paper. "The child is dying.
Come at once" That was all, and the
message was signed Nesbit Thorne.
Short, curt, peremptory, as our words
are apt to be in moments Of intense
emotion; bald fact roughly stated.
For moment Ethel Cumberland sat
stunned, with pallid face and shaking
hands. from which the message slipped
and futtered to the carpet. Then she
sprang to her feet in wild excitement, an
instinct aroused in her breast which
even animals know when their young
are in danger.
"Cecilr' she cried sharply, "don't you
hear? My child! My baby is dyingl
Why do yen stand there staring at me2
l must go-you must take me to him
now, this instant, or it will be too late.
Don't you understand My darling-my
boy is dyingr and she burst into pas
sion of grief, wringing her hands and
wailing. ''Gol send for a carriage.
There's not moment to lose. Oh, my
babyi-my babyr
''You can't go out in this storm. It's
sleeting heavily, and I've been i'll. !
can't let you go all that distance with
only maid, and how am ! to turn out
in such weather." objected Mr.. Cumber-
land, who, when he was opposed to a
thing, was an adept in piling up obsta-
cles. 81 tell you it's impossible, Ethel.
It's madness on such night as this"
who cares for the Storm" raved
Ethel, whose feelings, if evanescent,
were intense. 81 will go, Cecil! don't
want you, I'll go by myself. Nothing
shall stop me. If it stormed fires and
blood should go all the same. I'll
WAIKIKI crawl there before 1 will stay
here and let my boy die without me. He
is my baby-my own child, tell you,
Cecil!-if he isn't yours"
Of this fact Cecil Cumberland needed
no reminder 1t was thorn that pricked
and stung even his dull nature-for the
child's father lived. To jealous tenn
permanent it is CALLING to be reminded of
a predecessor in wife's affections, even
when the grave has closed over him; if
the man still lives it is intolerable.
He was not brute, and he knew that
he must yield to his wifes pressure-that
he had no choice but to yield; but he
stood for a moment irresolute, staring
at her with lowering brows, a hearty
curse on living father and dying child
slowly formulating in his breast.
AS he turned to leave the room to give
the necessary orders carriage drove
rapidly to the door and stopped, and
there was a vigorous pull at the bell.
Thorne had provided against all possible
delay. Then the question arose of who
should accompany her, and they found
that there was not single available wo-
man in the house. 1t was impossible to
let her go alone, and Cumberland, with
the curses rising from his heart to his
lips, was forced, in very manhood, to go
with her himself.
In Brooklyn Mrs. Creswell met them
herself at the door, and appeared sur
prised-as well she might-to see Mr..
Cumberland She motioned Ethel to-
ward the staircase, and then with a
formal inclination of the head ushered
her more unwelcome guest into small
parlor, where there was fire and q
lamp burning. Here she left him alone.
Her house was in the suburbs, and there
was nowhere else for him to go at that
hour Of the night and in that terrible
storm.
The room was warm and cheerful, a
child's toys lay scattered on the floor and
sofa, little hat and coat were on the
table beside cigar case and crumpled
newspaper. There was nothing for the
man to do save to stare around and walk
the floor impatiently. longing for death
to hasten with his work, SO that the false
position might be ended.
Guided by unerring instinct, Ethel
went straight to the chamber where her
child Law ADMINISTRATORS already dead.