The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, 1893-04-28

''Is it hep" she
asked aloud in a voice ringing with
the 10y and the fear of a passion that
has waited long and is at last ap-
preaching the fulfllment of satisfac-
ton.
rs it hep Is it he? Is it hep" she
repeated again and again"
She did not see the dark red squares
of marble, alternating with the white
and the gray, but as she looked a face
and a form rose before her, in the con-
temptation of which all her sense
and faculties concentrated themselves.
care you indeed hep" she asked,
speaking softly and doubtfully, and
yet unconsciously projecting her
stro e will upon the vision. as though
to force it to give the answer for
which she longed.
And the answer came, imposed by
the effort of her imagination upon the
thing imagined. The face suddenly
became luminous as with a radiance
within itself, the shadows of grief
melted away. and in their place
trembled the rising light of a dawn
ing love. The lips moved and a voice
spoke.
Il am he, l am that love for whom
you have waited, you are that dear
one whom I have sought throughout
the world. The hour of our Joy has
struck, the new life begins to-day, and
there shall be no end"
Unorna's arms went out to grasp
the shadow, and she drew it TO her in
her fancy and kissed it's radiant face.
':Na veky vekuy.! To ages of ages!"
she cried.
Then she covered her eyes as
though to impress the sight they had
seen upon the mind within, and. CROP
ing blindly for her chair, sank back
into her seat.
'.Ah, but 1 Wilt" she exclaimed.
'.And what 1 will-shall be-"
AS though she were satisfied with
the promise thus made to herself, she
smiled, her eyelids dropped, the ten
sion of her frame was relaxed and she
sank again into the indolent attitude
in which the Wanderer had found her.
A moment later the distant door
turned softly on its hinges and light
football broke the stiffness. There
was no need for Unorna to speak in
in order that the sound of her voice
might guide the newcomer to her re-
treat. The footsteps approached
swiftly and surely. A young man OF
singular beauty came out of the green
shadows and stood beside the chair
in the open spa ce.
Unorna betrayed no surprise as she
looked up into her visitors face.
She knew it well. In form and
feature the youth represented the
noblest type of the Jewish race.
Israel Kafka stood still, gazing
down upon the woman he loved and
drawing his breath hard between his
parted lips.
'.Well?" She interrogated.
Under an irresistible impulse he
fell upon his kness beside Unorna,
covering her marble hand with all his
lean, dark fingers, and pressing his
forehead upon them, al though he
had found and grasped all that could
be dear to him in life.
"Unorna! My golden Unorna!" he
cried. as he knelt.
UnorEa looked down upon his bent
head. As though collecting her
thoughts she closed her eyes, as she
tried to draw back her hand; then as
he held it still, she leaned back and
spoke to him.
'.You have not understood me, " she
said, as quietly as she could.
'.Not-understood?" he repeated in
startled, broken tones.
Unorna sighed and turned away, for
the sight hurt her and accused her.
mo, you have not understood. Is
it my fault? Israel hafka, that hand
is not yours to hold"
"Not mine? Unorna!" Yet he
could not quite believe what she SAID
II am in earnest she answered.
"Do you think / am jesting with you,
or with myselfa'
Israel Kafka still knelt beside her.