Omaha daily bee., 1897-01-17

! Once Langly persuaded Braunt and his
! daughter to 80 to the empty church with him
and hear the grand organ. The workman
snd the girl sat together in the wilderness
| OF vacant pews, and listened entranced while
the sombre rhythm of the Dead March"
! nlled the desertei ediHce. Langly played
| one selection after another for the love Of
| the music and the love of his audience 1t
was a concert such as the mad king Of Ba-
! varta might have hearkened to in lonely
state, but heard now by a man without a
| i'enny in his pocket. and hardly a crust to
! eat in his squalid rooms. Whether the deft
! fingers OF the B1varian player soothed for
| the moment the demon that tortured the
| Ring, as the skill of David luled the dis
! quiet OF Saul, who can say? But the en-
| chanted touch Of the solitary crganist on the
| ivory keys transported his listeners TO a
| world where hunger was unknown.
The stiffness OF the great church, un-
! troubled by outside sounds; the reverbera-
! tion Of harmony from the dim, lofty vaulted
! roof; the awakening Of unexpected echoes
| lurking in dark corners, added TO the SOL
! emnity OF the music, gave the hearers and
| performer a sense of being cut adrft from
! the babel beyond. The church for the time
| being was oasis of peace in a vast desert
| of turmoil.
Never again could Langly persuade Braunt
to accompany him to the church. Some
memories are too precious to be molested.
and he who risks the repetition of an ex-
perlence of perfect bliss prepares for HIM
self a possible disillusion.
NAY. my lad" he said, "well let that
rest. Some day, maybe, If I'm ever like be-
ginning to forget what I've heard I'll go
back, but not now. l would go stark music
mad If l often heard playing bike yon; in
fact | think sometimes, I'm half daft al
ready"
But Jessie often accompanied the organist
to the quiet church. neither of them think
In of lots 1tGlr
they were unseen by either the sexton or his
wife, who would have raised a todo in the
sacred interests of fitting and proper con-
duct Sometimes the girl sat with him in
the organ loft, watching him as he played,
but more often she occupied one of the
pews, the better to hear the instrument in
correct perspective. Jessie had inherited
from her father the taciturnity which char
acteri2ed him, and her natural reticence
was augmented by her shyness. There was
seldom any conversation between the two
In the church; each appeared abundantly
satisfied by the fact that the other was
there They might almost have been mute
lovers, for any use spoken language was to
them.
Once, on coming down the narrow stair
which led from the organ loft, Langly
thought she had gone, so strangely deserted
did the church seem. Even in the daytime
the gas had to be lighted when service was
held for the windows were of stained glass,
and the church was closely surrounded by
tall buildings. The atmosphere in that
grim quarter was rarely clear, and the in
terror of the church was always dim
Langly peered short-sightedly through the
gloom but could not descry her. feeling
Of vague alarm took possession OF him,
until, hurrying up the aisle, he saw she was
in her place. with her head resting on the
hymn-b book board of the pew, apparently
asleep. He touched her gently on the
shoulder, and, when she slowly raised her
head, saw that she had been silently weep
ing.
what is the matter, dear?" he whis-
pered bending over her.
81 feel afrad-afraid of something
don't know what. The church grew black
dark suddenly, and the music faded away.
thought l was sinking, sinking down, and
no one to save me-" She shuddered as she
spoke and rose uncertainty to her feet, tot
tering slightly on stepping into the aisle.
"It. was like a bad dream" she added, with
long-drawn, quivering breath.
He slipped his arm about her waist sup
porting her as they walked down the aisle
together.
said, land perhaps the sadness OF music. |
I'll play something more cheerful next time
you come. 1 play too much in the minor
keys"
At the door she asked hin, p stop a mo-
ment before going out. She dried her eyes, !
but Intellectually; for, leaning against the
stone wall she began to cry again In |
a despondent, helpless way. that wrung the
young mans heart within him.
"Jessie, Jessie" he faltered, not knowing
what to do or say.
II feel i'll aud weak" she sobbed. 81 shall |
be all right again presently
Come and we will have tea somewhere
That will cheer you up
They went away together, and he took her
to place where tea was to be had She sat
there dejectedly, leaning her head on her
hand while the refreshments were being
brought; he opposite her, in melancholy
silence. She took some sips OF the tea, but
could not drink 1t, shaking her head when
he offered her the buttered bread.
81 must get home" she said at last. 81
can't eat. l shall be better there"
They walked slowly to Rcse Garden court,
and at No. 8 he helped her no the sprdid
stair, she clnging breathlessly to the shaky
rail at every step or two, he thankful there
was but one fight to climb Braunt sat in
his armchair, an angry cloud on his brow.
He was in his gruffest mood, looking al them
when they entered with surly displeasure,
but he said nothing 1t IVES the evening
lfter the men, with their small majority,
lad resolved to continue the strike, and
Braunt's pipe was cold. Not another scrap
)f tobacco could he gather, although he had
urned out every pocket in hope of finding
crumb or two. Jessie sank into a chair
ler white face turning appealingly, alter
lately from her father to her friend, evil
iently fearing that something harsh might
>e said, for she knew her father was rough
poken when i'll pleased.
"Jessie is not WELL" said the organist.
Braunt did not answer him but crossed
ver to his daughter, and smoothing her hair,
aid more gently than she expected
whats wrong, lassie? Art hungry?
"No. no. murmured rhe girl, eagerly. 1--WE
ad tea before came in. I'm not hungry" |
Langly slow as he was to comprehend, saw I
hat Braunt. at least, had been without food | {
erhaps for long. He had several times Of
cred him money from his own scanty store | !
nut it had always been refused sometimes [
n a manner not altogether friendly. The I
rganist went quietly out, leaving father and |
aughtar alone together a
would you like me to get some one to t
ONE in-some woman" asked Braunt I
nxiously. I'VE don't know our neighbors, a
ut one of the women would come in If she /
new YOU were ILL.," t
The girl shook her head
81 want none-naugnt but just rest little. /
will all pass away soon. | need but rest" Il
The father returned 70 his chair, and they
at silent in the gathering darkness n
Presently the door pushed open, and Il
angly entered with parcels in his arms He y
laced loaf on the table with the rest OF
is burdens, and put on the empty hearth G
40 newspaper, that held a pennyworth of C
pals. a
Braunt glared at him, speechless for a h
Ioment; then he cried out. Indignantly: a
"Ill ha' none O. thy charity, my lad. id Il