The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1893-08-27

threading his way through the debris,
and looking into the dead faces that
smiled to him a CHASTITY greeting. He
reached out his hand and touched rich
locks, the color of her hair. And he gath
cred shred of some light cloak, en-
broidered with pearly beads. and looked
at it long and closely in the glaring
search-occasion. When he saw insensi-
bic forms that might never again know
pain, he turned away sick at heart. Once,
with glow Of JOY that overmastered his
own black grief, he took from a dead
mothers stiffening arms a little child
that was still warm and breathing and
handed it to one who stood to receive it,
while the crowd sobbed and cheered.
On again through the debris. Who
who is this in front of him2
1t is Carew still wearing his overcoat
bending over the dead, searching with
ghoulish expectation and a wan face that
to his rescuer seemed to bear the brand of
sin The pure exultation of the moment
was swept away by sudden tide of pas
sion that might have made him murder
er had not opportunity been denied him.
There was no longer any hope of finding
other living souls.
Were there any poople-that we
knewl" asked Brander of the youthful
reporter whom he came up with.
There is M, the lawyer, Mrs. L., the
rich widow, and quite numDer of repu-
table business men. And there is one girl
fused to so to school with"
Brander respected the boy the more for
the tear that stood in his eye. He pressed
his hand and, giving him some final di-
rections, said
''There is no message to deliver to me
at the Office, thank you. | shall not be
down again tonight"
He was at last on his way to the empty
place he called home, and grief and shame
walked beside him. He put his key in
the latch and turned it softly as he had
been in the habit of doing when he came
in late lest he might disturb her slumbers
and he stepped lightly on the stair and
opened and shut the door of their little
sitting room with a stealty touch like one
who comes as a thief in the night, looking
upon that to which he has no title.
How pretty the rooms were, with their
warm-hued draperies, their modest but
comfortable furnishings, the books and
magazines scattered about, the glowing
emberS in the CRATE. They had made the
best of it, although neither of them had
ever approved of life in fiat. The dream
Of their early married life had been the
possession of house in the country For
upward of two years he had been striving
to make the dream reality, keeping up
a correspondence with a provincial-daily
turning of an occasional paper for mag
azne. The deeds to fine house at Wat
ford were at that moment in his breast
pocket, and they were to have been her
birthday gift.
Now all was changed. Tonight he
wrestled alone with the loss that before
another day had passed would be herald
ed throughout the land; but the humilia-
ton and grief that underlay it would be
! forever locked In his own heart. He was
not the same man that he was yesterday.
The whole current of his life was changed
and his FOOLS dream of happiness was
over Yet so familiar and undisturbed
were all the objects about him that he
| could almost fancy the events of the day
TO be some hateful vision, and that he
could hear the sound of her breathing.
low and regular, in the darkened room be-
yond, whose door stood ajar
For his thoughts kept returning to her.
Strive as ne might to think of his future
plans, or the effect this would have or his
position among men, or what story hehad
best give the boys tomorrow, he found
himself perpetually dwelling upon her,
and recalling little unheeded circum-
stances in their married life. What did