The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1895-12-11


And his hymn OF exaltation had beer
mistaken by these people-by this--this
wanton child!
1T was no serenadc." he replied. curt
~; lit was In praise Of the Lord!"
"Of how mooch?"
"Of the Lord of Hosts-of the Al.
mighty in Heaven" He lifted his long
arms reverently on high.
"Oh!" she said. with a frightened
look. slightly edging away from the
wall. At secure distance she stopped
"Then you are q soldier. Don Esteban"
MOT"
Then for what you Rinl, I am q sol
dier of the Lord and yo1 will make
die in His army? Oh. yes. you have
so'd" She gathered up her guitar
tightly under her arm. shook her small
finger at him gravely and said: "You
are hoombog. Don Esteban; good a
night, and began to glide away.
zone moment, Miss--Miss Ramirez.
called Masterton. 'I-that Is. you
you have forgotten your rose" he add
ed feebly, holding up the flower. She
halted.
"Ah. yes; he have drop, you have pick
him up. he IL yours. have drop. you
have pick me up, but l am not yours
Good a night, Commandante Don Es-
teban!'
with a light laugh. she ran along be-
side the wall for little distance, sud
denly leeped up and disappeared In one
Of the largest gaps in its ruined and
helpless structure stephen Mastertor
gazed after her stupidity. st!ll holding
the rose in his hand. Then he threw II
away and reentered his home.
Lighting his candle. he undressed
himself. prayed fervently-so fervently
that all remembrance of the idle. fool
ish incident was wiped from his mind
and went to bed. He slept we'll and
dreamlessly. The next morning when
his thoughts required to the previous
night this seemed to him token that
he had not deviated from his spiritual
integrity: II did not occur to him that
the thought itself was tacit suspicion.
So his feet quite easily sought the
garden again in the early sunshine,
even to. the wall where she had stood.
But he had not taken into account the
vivifying freshness of the morning, the
renewed promise of life and resurrec-
ton in the pulsing air and potent sun
light. and as he stood there he seemed
to see the figure of the young girl again
leaning against the wall In all the
charm of her irrepressible and innocent
youth. More than that. he found the
whole scene reenacting itself before
~, 1ro hoI "a,
in the foliage, the cry and the fall; the
momentary soft contact of the girls
figure against his own, the clinging
arms around his neck, the brush and
fragrance of her flounces-all this came
back to him with strength he had not
felt when it occurred.
He was turning hurriedly away when
his eyes fell upon the yellow rose still
lying in the debris where he had
thrown it-but still pure. fresh and un-
faded. He picked 1t up again with a
singular fancy that 1t was the girl her.
self and carried it into the house.
AS he placed 1t half shyly in glass on
his table, a wonderful thought occurred
to him. Was not the episode of last
night a special providence? was not
that young girl, wayward and child
like, a mere neophyte in her idolatrous
religion. as yet unsteeped in sloth and
ignorance, presented to HIM as brand
to be snatched from the burning? Was
not this the opportunity of conversion
he had longed for? The chance of ex-
ercising his gifts Of exhortation. that
he had been hiding in the napkin of
solitude and seclusion? Nay, was not
all this predestined? His illness, his
consequent exile to this land of false
gods-this contiguity to the mission
was not all this part of a supremely
ordered plan for the girls salvation
and was not he elected and ordained for
that service? Nay, more, was not the
girl herself mere unconscious instru-
ment in the hands Of higher power;
was not her voluntary attempts to &C.
company him in his devotional exer-
else vague stirring of that predes-
tined force within her? Was not even
that wantonness and frivolity contrast
ed with her childishness-which he had
at frst understood-the STRINGS OF
the flesh and the spirit, and was he ia
abandon her In that struggle of good
and evil?
He lifted his bowed head that had
been resting on his arm before the lit
tie Hover on the table-as II it were a
shrine-with Hash of resolve in his
blue eyes. The wrinkled Concepcion
coming to her duties In the morning
scarcely recognized her gloomily ap-
stractcd master in this TRANSPORTED
man. He looked ten years younger.
She met his greeting, and the few d.
rect inquiries that his new resolve en-
abled him to make more freely, with
some information--which later talk
with the shopkeeper. who had a fuller
English vocabulary. confirmed in de-
tail.
"Yes! truly this was O. niece of the
mission gardener who lived with her
uncle in the ruined wing of the old Pre-
N AF