The Columbia herald. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 18??-1935, 1896-06-12

| Nedh NlCilln, DuJ ms own associate what
ever else he had been
Now if he were to escape from his death
in life it must be by his own unaided ener-
! gies alone. 1t was best so; best that he
! should climb to the top without help or
be lost without detection After all, it was
a superior power that had governed this
dread eventuality and siienced his impo-
tent tongue
An hour passed The wind began to
rise. At first Christian felt nothing of it
as he stood i'll his deep tomb. He could
hear its thia hiss over the mouth of the
shaft, and that was all. But presently the
hiss deepencd to sough Christian had
often heard of the winds sob 1t was a re-
ality, and no metaphor, as he listened to
the wind now. Tho wind began to de-
scend. With great swoop it came down
the shaft, licked the walls, gathered voice
/ from the echoing water at the bottom,
struggled for escape, rOared like Gagged
beast and was once more sucked up to the
surface with noise like the breaking Of %
! huge wave over a reef The tumult of the
/ wind in the shaft was hard to bear, but
when it was gone it was the silence that
seemed to be deafening.
Sometimes the gusts We're laden with the
smoke OF burning gOrse. 1t came from the
fire that Danny had kindled on the head Of
the Poolvash. Would the fire reach the pit,
encircle it, descend in it?
Then the rain began to fall Christian
knew this by the quick monotonous patter
overhead. But no rain touched him. 1t
was being driven aslant by the wind and
fell only against the uppermost part of the
walls of the shaft. Sometimes a soft thin
shower fell over him. Itwas like the spray
from cataract except that the volume Of
water from which it came was above and
not beneath him
Christian had begun to contemplate
measures for escape. That unexpected soft
ness of the rock which had at first appalled,
him began now to give him some painful
! glimmerings of hope. If the sides of the
shaft had been uniformly Of the gray slate
! rock of the district, the ledge he had laid
hold of would not have crumbled in his
hand. Being soft, there must be vein Of
sandstone running across the shaft. Chris
tian's bewildered memory recalled what he
must have beard many times of the rift of
rcdstone which lay under the headlanu
enough, his safety was assured He could
cut inches into it with a knife, and so per
haps after infinite pain and labor reach
the surface. Steadying himself with one
| hand, Christian felt in his pockets for his
knife. 1t was not there Now death in
deed was certain Despair began to take
! hold of him f.
! He was icy cold and feverishly hot at in
teryals His clothes were wet. The water
still dripped from them and fell at inter
| walls into the hidden tarn beneath in hol-
low drops,
/ But not so soon is hope conquered when
! it is hope Of life. Not to hope now would
| have been not to fear Christian remein-
bered that he had pair of small scissors
attached to n buttonhook. When search
ing for his knife he had felt it in his pocket
and spurned it for resembling the knife
to the touch of his nervous fingers. Now
! it was his sole instrument. He found it
| again, opened, and with this paltry help
he set himself to his work of escape from
! this dark, deep tunnel that stood upright
The night was wearing on. Hour after
hour passed The wind dropped. The
rain ceased to patter overhead Christian
toiled on, step over step Resting some
times on the largest and flrmest of the pro-
| jecting lodges, he looked up at the sky
Its leaden gray had changed to dark blue
studded with stars. The moon arose and
shone little way down his prison, light
| ing all the rest. He knew it must be early
| morning. One star large full globe of
| light, twinklod directly above him. His
! eye was fascinated by that star. He sat
! long and watched it, He turned again and
again in his toilsomc journey to look at it,
! Was it a symbol of hope? Pshawl Chris
tian twisted back to his work. When he
! looked for the star again, it was gone. 1t
| had moved beyond his ken. 1t had passed
out Of range Of his narrow spot Of heaven.
| Somehow il had been Il mute companion.
| Christian heart sank yet lower in his
| cherries solitude.
! Still he toiled on. His strength was far
| spent. The moon died off, and the stars
/ went out one after one. Then deep, inn
! penetrable cloud of darkness overspread
| the little sky above Christian knew it
| must be the darkness that prccedcs the
| dawn. He had reached ledge of rock
| wider than any that We're beneath it.
! Clearly enough Il wooden raftcr had lain
along it,
Christian rested and looked up. At that
moment he heard the light patter of four
| little feet overhead, and a poor stray sheep,
Il lamb of last springs flock, bleated down
the shaft The melancholy call Of the lost
creature in that dismal place touched
| Christian deeply. What was it that made
| the tears start to his eyes and his whole
soul shake with a now agony The out
cast lamb wandering over this trackloss
waste in the night had touched an old scar
| in Christians heart and made the wound
| bleed afresh Was it strange that in that
! hour his thoughts turned involuntarily to
little Ruby CrcgcenY The darling child,
caresscd by the salt breath of the sea, and
with the sunlight dancing in her eyes
| and gllstening on her ruby lips, had she
| then anything In common with the little
wanderer that sent up her pitiful cry into
/ the night Too much, too much for the
man who heard it, and he was buried in q
| living grave, with the tombstones &C dead
| Joys rising everywhere around, with the
| fire that had for years been kept close
| burning now most Of all Oh, these dead
| joys, they want the deepest gravel
Christian turned again to his weary
task To live was a duty, and live he
must. His fingers were chilled to the bone.
| His clothes still chung like damp ccrements
to his body The meager blades of the
I 1