The Red Cloud chief., 1892-07-29

gle, n wild start, and he awoke ut last.
The room was full Of smoke. The
little chamber had become as hot us an
oven, and and then u flame darted
out of the thick cloud. Faint, and still
bcwildercd by the opiate, he was slow
In realizing his danger; but he made a
strong effort, and CROPPED his way TO
the door, gasping Tor breath.
lie had locked the door. and the lock-
was n very old one. Wildly he turned
the key round and round, but the door
remained fast closed, and the room was
growing hotter every moment. lie
would try to escape by the window.
Only, IL was impossible to breathe much
longer in this dreadful atmosphere, and
when he tried to call for help his voice
failed, and died away in u whisper.
II was a cruel fate to perish I'm this
way, fricndless and alone. There was
no moro strength left in him now, death
was coming fast, and now that IL was
really near he knew that he wanted to
po on living. a little while ago. life
had not seemed n very desirable thing,
but now it vas precious and sweet, full
of new possibilities and hopes. Fer
haps IL 1t had not been for this awful
fate, he might have begun To live q new
life. frightened with charities and bet
ter purposes. He might have redeemed
| the Time II time had been granted
him. But IL would be ali over soon.
He had sunk down upon the floor,
and lay there, helpless and scarcely
| conscious, when n loud voice suddenly
made its way to his dullcd ears. Then
there was q great crashing of glass,
and n figure lcapcd into the room.
Out of the burning room into the
windy night and the clear starlight he
was carried by firm arms. There was
just enough intelligence left in him to
make him cling to his dclivcrer, and
vaguely comprehend that he must
hold fast while they went down n lad
der. Somehow the descent was accom-
plishcd ir safety, and then Michael
found himself on q heap of straw in the
farmyard, and heard great clamor and
shouting around him.
The clamor ceased; he saw and heard
nothing more till he woke mt length
from n long spell Of Inconsistencies.
He was no longer IN that ill-omcncd
room with the vaultcd roof. but in n
homcly chamber Of larger size. with n
low ceiling. Some onc had been bath
ing his face, and when he tried to lift
his hand to his head he found that the
trembling fingers were too feeble to
be Of any use. An elderly oma came
gently to the bedside and spoke in q
kindly tonc that he seemed to rcmcm'
Der.
Lie still" she said, ''you must use
my hands till you get stronger"
II was Mrs. Hooper, who was nursing
him, and he was lying in the best bed
room of the old inn. Tho slow hours
dragged along ut Il sluggish pace; ht
could only obey the kind mandate ant
lie still, for he was 100 weak to Owe
and ever thinking was almost beyond
his powers. Yet he felt himself sur
rounded by friends, and now and ther
n sense of gratitude would struggle
through the dull calm. So days wen
on, and he lay in the humble village I'M
in hclplcssness and weary peace.
While he was lying there things wer'
going on much us usual in Eastmeon
and every n in the place was nc
quainted with the story Of his rescue
from the burning room. That is. the.
knew the outlines Of the story; but onl.
Jane Challock and Mrs. Hooper knew
all that Aaron could tell. And IL wa
Aaron who had saved Michael's life.
Jane he said, ~ can't tell you hov
hated him when he came upon us ol
the bridge. ! had wanted to meet hin
|. face to face, and ] had my will.
, thought of all his basencss to the poo
girl in London, and il you had not beel
, by my side | think ! should nave strucl
him then and there"
| Thank God l was with you, Aaron,
; Jane whispered.
'Yes, thank God you are always wit
me. A good woman softens n man una
wares. When we were walking &c
| gether in the twilight, and you wer
; talking in your quiet voice, I began (
|, feel that he hadn't lone me any grea
harm after all. And then I remem
bered Olives words about forgiveness
, and n sor of shame stirred i'm me. 1t
n bad sign when ones heart is NOR
. ready to curse than to bless-a terribl
bad sign, Jane"
~ <hbAOhs DIG Saiu StuNSiys
4: "And then, when ! was left alone 10
, the night, ! couldn't rest for thinkin
q OF my badness, and from that ! fell
calling back old times. didn't go (
, bed; | just paced up and down my room
: till ] seemed to see Michael's face e,
: actly as 1t used to be. What n brigh'
a frc~sh-colored lad he was! Always flu
of hopes and plans, and always ready (
9 cheer me up when I was dowr
! hearted. And after that old vision {
4 him, Jane, l saw him again as he
now-the poor, puny man who won
live out half his days. Instead of ha
ing him, instead of wanting to hu,
him, ! vas broken down mt once with
great pity. II wasn't Olives life thu
he had blighted, no, nor mine; IL wa
his own life that he had spoiled an
laid waste"
Jane looked up at her lover with tear
in her eyes. They were so happy :
these two simple pcrsons-and the
4 knew that no life can be complete IL