The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1897-07-18

the deuce with ii by drink, and his burns
were enough 20 have cindered any ordi-
nary man-still he'd have pulled through
if he would have helped US by wishing
70 live. But he just lies there waiting for
aeath, and doesn't give himself a chance. "
The splendid heroism of the act by
which he had saved the child's life was
soon known through the hospital, and all
that ceaseless care, eminent skill, and de-
voted nursing could do had been done to
save him, but he was slipping through
their hands. He lay still in his bed,
swathed in his bandages, never utter
| ing a sound in his sufferngs, patiently
| dong what he was told, rarely speaking
a word, except TO express thanks for what
was done for him and, as the doctor said,
he was waiting 70 die.
He was terribly burnt; the fire had
! scared and scorched and disfigured him
beyond recognition, and what was worst
of all 1t had nearly blinded him. He
seemed as Indifferent TO this as he was
10 the pain.
lie had no friends. No one had ever
called at the hospital to inquire about
him, except one or two reporters In the
days Immediately after the fire. Even
the woman whose child he had saved new
CT came near the place. He appeared 10
be utterly alone and friendless.
OF all those who had cared for him In
the hospital, no one had been more unre-
lAlIS III LEI attention Lfdn sister MAR
Baret, under whose charge he was placed,
as one of the most critical cases. The lit
lie ward in which he lay was close to her
room, and at all hours she was wont
TO 90 to his bedside and watch the pro-
sress he made, and see that he had every
thing he wanted So far as his dimmed,
scorched sight would permit him, he
would follow her movements in the ward;
and when she laid her cool hand on his
not brOws, or with def skill arranged his
pillows, or sought to cheer him with
word, he would sigh sometimes and
breathe a whispered thanks.
Gradually, the patient came to speak
sentence or two to her now and then; and
when the doctor began to fear for his life,
it was suggested to the Sister to try and
find out something of the mans friends.
one day, when he seemed more inclined
to be communicative, she spoke TO him
gently and kindly.
Have you any friends you would wish
TO see?" she asked.
NO" he ansWered-his voice was low
and hoarse and rough.
You know that you are very i'll, and
the doctor is sorry that you do not seem
10 make an effort TO get we'll"
DO you mean that / am going to die a
iast?' he asked after a pause.
That at last has a very sad sound,
she said, gently.
- IL VI AG liidA AIN likely TO ole 2 he
repeated, almost eagerly, as the Sister
thought.
You are very ILL but if you make an
effort you will recover. If you do not try
10 live you will die"
Thank God for that" he murmured.
hoarsely.
Are you glad to die?" she asked. pity
ngly. is life so hard for your"
Il have longed for death for years" he
answered "Ay, and have tried to meet
{; but others went whose lives could i'll be
pared by friends and relatives, while I,
whom no one on earth would have missed.
oudn't die
Then long silence followed. The man
vas thinking.
Il think l should like to speak a little
RELY to you If you will listen to me" he
aid, Slowly and thoughtfully-'df you are
quite sure L m going to die. You have been
% kind to such a poor battered devil that
you have stirred old thoughts in me and
brought to life wish that at one time
used TO be very near my heart. l can't
see your face" and he passed his bandag-
ed hand over his almost sightless eyes.
but your ways are so gentle and so ten
der, and something in your voice touches
me and makes me think of old times be-
fore l had sunk to what l am"
He paused, and when he continued. he
spoke with many breaks and gaps.
III.
/ d chance once--I wasn't always such
poor wretch as now-but l threw 1t
away. / had money, and spent it; friends
and lost them; position, and threw II 70
the dogs aye, to the dogs, and then soon
went there myself My chance was when
l was loved by as true and loyal a girl as
ever staked her faith on a mans honor
and lost 1t. / did for her what I've done
at every turn in my life-deceived her
and broke her heart, and for aught l
know, ruined her. Anyway, l left ner
suddenly If | didn't care, and let her
ihink / didn t care, too; although l loved
her-ah! well, never mind how much; too
much to risk her future with me as a
drunkard. Sister" he cried, almost
aloud, I'm battered out of recognition,
ruined body and soul, a WORKOUT, useless,
lonely, wretched wreck, as you see; but
! swear / loved the girl, aye, worshipped
her, and have loved her always. God help
me.
Il might have married her-that was
my chance; she might have saved me-
But i knew the drink fever was In nv
veins, ana l thought / might ruin her in
stead of her saving me, and so / ran
away. ] used TO think at first that II
death would come soon l could let her
know the truth; and the thought made
me long, with passionate longing, to die.
But l couldn't die. il was my curse to
live on; 60 sink lower and lower; TO know
the gulf between us was widening day
by day, year by year, TO feel the old de-
sire to right myself in her eyes grow
weaker and weaker under the strain OF
the life / lived. Then l laughed at my
self. Who would care to be the bearer
of such news from a broken-down, des.
perate, drunken wreck? An, and what
would she care to know Il? The past
was dead and buried beneath a load of
cursed rioting and dissipation.
And ] should never have thought of
IT, but just have died like the name less
dog am, II your kindness had not moved
me So"
What was her name?" asked the Sister.
She had been much affected at the mans
tale II had seemed to carry her away
back. as she listened, 20 the time when she
herself was a girl, and had been deceived
much in the same way, before her father
had died. and her fortune failed, and she
had had 10 turn nurse In order to live;
long before she was Sister Margaret and
when she had been happy. smiling, trust
ful Madge Vernon.
Never mind her name now, Sister, or
mine either. Daredevil Walters they call
ed m in the regiment. little thinking that