The morning call., 1893-04-14
IN ARIZONA.
IN DAYS OF OLD.

Twilight fell slowly, Ike a fine rain.
through the branches Of the orchard, where
the last red apples cleaned yet at the ends
of their Invisible stems. Below. in the
path, something shone like them. 1t was
the gold of broideTies and the fire OF balas
rubles-
Awoman advanced painfully through the
mud and darkness of the road. What one
would have noticed was the length and
heaviness of her stiff velvet mantle, richly
embroidered with precious stones. her foot
sore tread and in her arms vaguely de-
fined burden over which she bent. Only in
seeing the pretty awkWardness Of her move
ments one would have guessed that she had
always had pages 10 hold up her heavy
train and that this was the first time she had
ever carried her child In her arms.
1t was pitiable TO see with what difficulty
she walked, for at each step the great folds
of her robe and mantle escaped from her
cold hands, and the child walled in the
arms that clasped him fevershly, but with
out strength. She pushed on bravely to-
ward the moss-grown roofs Of the village
which could be seen, low and green tinged.
at The end of The orchard. Already through
some of the windows shone the red freight
or the yellow fame of a candle. She
a little garden tapped gently upon the tlrst
door.
"Who is thereP" cried sharp voice.
The young woman opened the door. The
flaming oak log on the hearth awakened all
the fire of her jewels and irradiated softly
Eer slender figure, her blonde face and the
child she held in her arms.
81 am the Countess of DammaTtin. The
soldiers of King Louis have driven me from
my castle. My husband has fed. / have
90 rTa nr,d ,nft 80
you give me place in your house?"
The wHnkled face of the old woman
lighted up with hate and derision.
"HaP said she, "it is you, your ladyshipl
My eyes grow young in seeing you thus"
What have l ever done to you?" said the
Countess recoiliDg.
What have you done? had daughter
about your age. She went TO service at the
castle. She was beautiful, madam-more
beautiful than you. Your husband saw
through the snow. over the highway, with
her child on her breast, as now they drive
you with your child in your arms. Die as
she didP'
Great tears flowed down the icy cheeks of
the Countess. She had not known that she
had been SO cruel formerly. She closed the
door and found herself once more in the
night, where the child recommended its
plant.
Then she perceived at the edge of the for
est tho little hUvel of a charcoal-burner
She knocked at the door; no one answered.
She entered and saw upon the earthen floor
young man and young woman dead, en-
tWined in each others arms. Near them
was an empty pitcher. and as they were
frightfully emaciated she understood that
they had died OF starvation, and remem-
bered having heard that there was famine
in the land and that there were people who
sometimes pershed thus.
She softly closed the door and went on,
and the mute reproach of those two dead
. bodies so weighed upon her heart that she
scarcely heard the means of her child In
each ditch she thought she saw the old man
dying. The young woman wandered in
every held, but always near her, at her feet,
lay the two, dead of hunger, and at each
step IL seemed to her that she tr0d upon
their icy breasts. But in spite OF these
specteTs she returned the way she had cume
and dragged herself toward the village for
her child's sake. If only some good woman
would take him in and nourish him with her
own children little would it matter what
became of the mother. But at last one of
her little shoes got lost in the mud. She
limped few PAGES, then. worn out, sank
upon heap of stones on the border Of the
road.
And as she sat there. the child dying in
her arms, she heard in the distance the voice
OF q man who sang. She recalled, then
stories she had hear rd at the castle, told by
nOblemen who laughed in their beaTdsIwhle
the ladies Dlushed. She rose fearful of man
and ready 10 fly 10 the wolves. But her
poor feet were too swollen, and she fell back
upon the stones
Then the voice ceased. and nothing more
stirred in the infinite night. She was
afraid again-afraiu that no one was COM
ing. But the voice rose anew nearer her,
and the young wOman's heart leaped for
Joy for in her desOlation every human be-
ing seemed a means OF succor
"Ahl' cried she, ''for the love OF holy
Mary, give me charity"
She saw two persons, one of whom held
lrntern, advancing toward her. 1t was an
other man and woman. but these were liy-