The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1899-01-04
Garcia.


Dawn was at hand, but the organlst
always came before it.
| His tall figure would be more stopped,
| his fine features thinner, and the gray
| locks about his temples must have wnlten-
| ed ere now.
But, mercsful God, if he were deadi His
! fingers frightened their hold on the IVY
vines; ali, no; that could not be. He was
living peacefully and well-cared for. He
would come at the usual hour. linen she
might tell him.
A growing cock awoke the silent, star
lit air. Another sound followed, foot
fall on the frozen road.
She drew back, clinging to the ivy,
which shook and swayed with her weight.
The striding figure which appeared was
not one she awaited. While he lifted
his cap and made the sign of the cross
she recognized in the seni-darkness the
man whom she had cast aside for
But the unmistakable striking of a staff
on the pebbles checked the rush OF
thoughts. Night swallowed that form like
a vision; now she beheld her father.
He advanced slowly, nay. with totter-
ing steps holding his lantern in an alb
stRcted way, high above his bent head.
She muffled her mouth with her cloak,
lest self-eontrol desert her and the cry
in her heart became audible.
Mechanically he fumbled his key into
its rusty lock and opened the door; softly
she slipped in behind him, and they as
cended the winding stairs TO the organ
loft.
He 1T the candles and extinguished his
lantern. Still she fingered in dark re-
cess. nor dared approach him. The blower
took his place.
Jealous eyes looked on, as the organist
fingered the sheets of music and caressed
the keys of the instrument Lips and
brow hungered for those loving touches.
She would have risen and pleaded.
Father, have sinned before heaven and
in thy sight" but remembrance of her
terribly changed and haggard face, and
compunction for his feebleness, restrain
ed her.
And if he believed her dead-why mar
such a sweet belief?
Then she wept, the tardy drops of fever
ish years.
A bar of sweet. tremulous music stole
from beneath his fingers and quivering,
harp-like, melted into the silence; and a
smile, the smile of the Dreamer, lit up his
countenance, transparent, and ethereal in
the Pickering candle-light.
He played, and, master that he was.
there were two instruments which he did
4tdCAA anu W 4 MS anu III Win CS1AOAh5
notes.-the sonorous old organ and the
broken heart in the shadow. She crept
from shadow to shadow, until she found
high-backed chair, where she knelt, par
TALLY screened, watching his face.
Daylight broadened. The organist took
off his great coat and threw it over
the chair back, unconscious of the eager
lips which fell to kissing its worn edges,
of the hands which drew it stealthily
down until the poor little body was COM
pietely hidden in its folds.
Presently the sexton came, the bells
were rung, and the people assembled. AS
tire was no choir the good folks sang
as best they could. Prayers said and SCR
mon delivered there burst then from the
organ a movement that the kneeling Wo-
man strove to remember
The father was playing a carol which he
had composed in the happy days; they
had practiced il together for a Christ
mas morning, but
How piercing sweet was its theme; the
organ throbbed joyOusly under it; some
thing was stirring in the womans breast
like half-frozen bird under the influence
of sudden sunshine. With eyes uplifted
to her fathers face, she begins TO muir
muir words of the carol, disconnecte lily
at first; then singing them, slowly, and
correctly. If he hears, it is a DIE lrner
the echoes of his own thoughts.
But when the theme swells to fuller
compass the voice shakes itself free from
the tremors of long disuse. rises and scars
needless what ears may wonder at its
presence there.
After the last note sobbed away in the
pipes, and silence closed the bird-like
throat, then the old mans beautiful
dreamy eyes saddened
Carolina, mia" he whispered bro
kenly.
A paroxysm of mortal pain seized the
woman; her cold palms smote her breast,
and she slipped without noise 10 the floor.
Some hours later an excited crowd
brought the organist back to the church,
questioning him about the strange wo-
man who had been found dead beside the
organ.
He passed his slender fingers over her
features. let them linger on the drawn
mouth and wrinkled brow. and shook his
head.
Poor thingi
No. he had not heard her singing-they
must have dreamed.
He always heard one voice when he
played that Carol-perhaps they had heard
it, too.
80 we must bury the poor creature
without name to mark her grave
call her." said he, smiling dreamily
at his own thought, Garcia
As he turned and went his way he was
unconscious of the quick gesture of as
sent from the swarthy man who hung
over the dead nor heard he the Eruf
voice falter, Thank God, he is blind -
Ida Cole in New Orleans Times .Demo-
crat.