Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1900-06-14
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CHAPTER XVIII.
At lie Providence"

len weeks nave passed since inc
wires thrilled to America the terrible
news of the Ocean Queens total
wreck. and the cXcitement-loving pub
Tic are already weary of the oftrepcat-
ed story, and athirst for Il new one.
But in the quiet precincts of simple
little D. it still remains Il topic of
undying interest, and the heroic men
who braved all the terrors of that
dreadful night, to rescue the few sur
viyors on the doomed vessel are at the
pinnacle of civic popularity.
Silver medals have been voted them
already by the mayor and council. and
Il detailed account OF their heroism de-
posted with the archives of the towh,
for the editication and Improvement Of
future generations, while the daily pa
pers containing descriptions of the
event are in demand by young and Old.
But the waves of interest break 81
lently against tue whitewashed walls
OF the little hospital. where the good
Sisters. so quietly and skillfully. tend
their heaven-sen charges.
No daily papers or daily gossip ever
penetrate those sunny. peaceful wards,
where life seems no longer struggle,
death no longer doom.
lie Providence was the appropriate
name of this quiet haven. that had
proved a Providence, indeed. to many
y storm tossed wanderer who had
sought refuge within it's shelterns
walls: and in LIE Providence we re-
sumo our story.
One of these waits was tossing rest
1essly upon Il fever couch. on this
bright autumn evening. The little bay
@,it, Hnnt nf yv1ito. i1nI fiShiOO
heats. stretched before the hospital
windows like a sheet of molten gold.
over the western waters the sun was
setting in clouds of rose and purple
and the silver chimes of the Angelus
were floating from hundred different
spires. us Herbert Give opened his
eyes. now clearing. fever-bright, iii
their cavernous sockets. and felt him.
self drifting. rs it We're, from mighty
distance back to unfamiliar earth.
The low. white walls of the room in
which he lay. the bright-colored relig-
ious pictures hanging around the
quaint, diamond-shaped windows. the
polished floor and the tiled hearlll-all
seemed to him bits OF some strange
painting suddenly brought before his
eyes. and Of which he formed no part.
The slight. black-lobed figure seated
BY the window, whose features were
nearly concealed by the cloSely-frilleu
cap and flowing veil was but Il portion
of the Shadowy unfamiliar scene, that
seemed as yet to be a remnant of his
f"ver-dream.
'Sybil.'' he murmured. in low. Weak
voice: where is Sybil?" Then. with a
slance of bewilderment he added:
Where am 1:'
In the hospital Of lie Providence"
answered the nun, as. with deft
movement. she let the veil fall closer
around her face "Monsrur has been.
very i'll"
''Sybil." repeated Herbert, in the
same bewildered tone. as if he We're
<limly grasping at some broken clue:
where is Sybil?'
Monsieur has forgotten an
swer came Very softly and sadly from
beneath the dropping veil-'le is here
alone"
''Alone?" repeated Herbert. slowly
mot alone: She was with me in the
wild. dark waters. l held her in my
arms as the angry waves dashed over
us-I claSped her to my heart, and felt
that even death was sweet And SHE
has gone-gone? Left me again-left
NE to live
The hopeless pathos of his voice must
have touched some chord in his list
er's heart for she tremblnd visibly. AID
for a moment was silent.
When. at length she spoke. it was in
a quiet, measured voice.
''Monsieur is young to weary of life.
They will tell him here it is always a
good gift-one to be used well and
wisely. and never-no. never-cast
AWAY"
He turned YEARLY on his pillow: the
feeble thread that was guiding him
hack to life WAS broken.
Sybil. Sybil! What echo had he
heard Of he1 voice that made him be-
3ieve she was near?
Weak and weary as broken hearted
child. Herbert turned his face from the
sunlight and wept.
The nun gaZed at him for a moment.
while her slight form trembled like an
aspen in the wind: then. drawing her
veil close around her, she hurried from
the room.
A tall thin. elderly woman took her
place at Herbert's bedside and held a
tiraugtt to his lips-a cool. pleasant
draught. that seemed to steal thought
from his brain-that STEPPED all his
senses in delicious languor of repose
He slept again, and when he awoke
new life and vigor was infused into his
frame. He looked about him. and be-
gan to realize the present. to remem-
Der the past.
A screen was placed beside his bed
to screen it from the moonlight that
was flooding the little chamber. Two
shadows were cast upon the screen-a
tall woman, seated Ey the window, a
slighter, smaller figure kneeling at her
feet.
Low and guarded as were their voices
their words drifted to Herbert's ears.
The taller woman seemed speaking
Eravely:
ut is very hard. my child-very
hard; but 1t must be. have listened
to you, yielded to you, unwlsely and
imprudently, perhaps. because felt
! thought life was past. But now
now"
II must co." concluded the other, In
. tone that made her listeners heart
chords culver. "Ah. Sister. know
1vhat v0ll would aavi II IL MT FOR oT1o