Richmond planet. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1883-1938, 1900-03-03

ing her down the narrow staircase.
through sitting smoke and scorching
flame. That we both escaped is a mira
Gle. but we did escape. and practically
unscathed.
My hands were burned, Il Is true.
and my face was slightly scorched. but,
as for my darling, held her so closely
to me. that the fire did not so much as
SINCE hair OF her head. Once outside
and safe. her high. brave spirit gave
way little. and she lay back IN nv
arms. white as a lily, on the verge of
Painting. I famed her with my hat, and
chafed her hands until the color crept
back into her lips: then bent over her
and pressed upon them a long. tender
kiss.
my darlingl" I whispered my prec-
tous-precious Vera Oh. my love! NY
lovev
The sweetest blush tinged her dear
face; she raised her eyes softly, shyiy.
and yet. oh. 80 lovingly. to mineI
Then you do love me?" she whis-
pered. Thought you didn't"
/ And then she hid her blushing face
upon my shoulder, and broke into q
flood OF tears.
therefore. I shall not attempt to de-
scribe what said TO Vera after this.
nor what she said to me. Suffice IL that
L discovered loved her too wen to
lose her-that I determined within NV
self that nothing on earth should part
us-not even her mothers crimes But
L wanted to know how 1t happened that
she, OF all people In the world. had
come to my rescue. / asked her this.
and give you her answer in her own
words. Yos may believe 1t or not, as
| you choose.
1t is by no means the least extraordi-
nary thing in this extraordinary story:
and, to this day, myself hardly know
what 70 think of IL. for I am not n
superstitious man, and hitherto had
placed no faith In dreams. When I
asked my dear love how IL was she
had come to the mill, alone, at that
hour, she blushed and hesitated, then
said. in very low and earnest voice
Heaven sent me-to save you L am
quite sure OF that, and you must new
er try to make me think anything else
dear. will tell you Just how IT was.
1 had lain down on the sofa with a
book this afternoon. and fell asleep.
1 had a dream, and II was all about
you. You were in some danger, though
what that danger was could not tell:
but you were in the mill-shut up so
that you could not escape. When I
awoke, I went out, and called on Mrs
Price at the lodge. Her baby is Ill, and
I wanted to ask how the poor little
thing was She CHANGED to tell me that
you had walked In this direction All
In a moment, my dream came back to
me. with such force and vividness that
1 felt as though I must walk as far
as here, and see for myself that You
really were not In danger. / thought
then. ii was just n foolish fancy even
while L obeyed it; but, when L got In
sight OF the MILL 1 saw Il in flames. and
heard vo"- shoIts knew INV Gre N,
had come true: and Just ran up the
stairs, without stopping TO think
whether could get through the flames
or not. II hadn't saved you. I could
have died with you. dear. and that is
what should have wanted to have
done"
Deeply moved, clasped her to me,
and. for moment or two, there was
silence between us. The hearts of both
were too full for words. One thing I
was glad of-the dear child had evil
IDENTIFY no suspicion OF foul pay. She
had told me she supposed I must have
dropped match among the straw as
went up. and did not contradict her
The fact that the door of the room in
which was shut up was fastened be-
trayed nothing. inasmuch as IL was not
locked OF bolted; II simply fastened OF
Itself, and could only be opened from,
the outside.
Vera imagined the wind had blown
IL to, and this ] did not contradict
either. was anxious. however, to
know whether she had met her mother
coming away from the mill. so I said
How came your mother to allow you
to be out alone at this hour, Vera? Did
she known"
with headache her maid told me. She
must have been asleep. for her door
was locked, and she did not answer
when I went TO II, though, of course, I
only tapped very lightly for fear OF
disturbing her."
By this time we had come within
sight OF the house. set my lips sternly
as ] thought OF what Lady Gramont's
feelings would be when she saw me
when she knew I had come back to
denounce her, after all.
The first person saw when we en-
tered the house was she-the guilty
woman herself. She was standing,
dressed all in white. at the top OF the
staircase. She saw me, and her eyes di-
lated. and her cheeks grew ashen pale.
Another moment. and then-I never
quite knew how IT happened-she ut
tered a shrek which will ring in my
ears until my dying day. and ran down
the stairs enveloped in flame
She had overturned s. lamp which
stood on table behind her, and her
thin, diaphanous garments had caught
like so much tissue paper She was lit
orally af1ame from head to foot as,
still uttering those frightful shrieks.
she rushed down the stairs, and fell
| at my feet in the hall.
In moment had seized hold of the
mats and rugs and was extinguishing
the flames. But, I'm my heart, ] knew
she was too horribly burned to recov-
er. The doom she had planned for me
had, by a most awful retribution, re-
coiled on her own head. She was to die
by the most fearful of deaths-death by
| fire.
Very tenderly they bore the poor,
charred, tortured body to a couch, and,
hour after hour, doctors exhausted all
their skill, while Sir Harold stood by in
I mute agony, and Vera lay sobbing In
| my arms. But from the first there had