The Neihart herald. [volume] (Neihart, Mont.) 1890-1901, 1900-12-15
Saved by Her Voice.

81 was springtime and MONDAY In
England, and the soft breath of the
49, year seemed laden with fragrant
promises of bloom and color, while over
the woods was stealing a fairyllke man
tie of green.
On such a day, and In such a scene as
this, Erangeline Rohan felt as though
the world should hold nothing Of strife
or pain or ugliness; indeed, the particu-
lar world in which she moved and
breathed and had her being held little
things existed, for fate had favored
E~vangeline, and not content with be-
slowing on her beauty of person and
mind, had lowered her with the great
gift Of song in its divine perfection.
Now she sauntered down the wind
Ing pathway that led from her castle
terrace TO a copse beneath.
A man followed her with hesitating
steps, as though he feared a repulse If
he presented himself too suddenly, took
courage to approach when the trees
yelled them from the castle windows,
and, though she made him welcome by
neither word nor sign, walked at her
side until the whim seized her to seat
herself on a bank and search for the
desultory flowers that were beginning
to peep here and there.
1t was at this moment that a visitor
who had driven up to the castle In a
dogcart descended and asked for Mile.
Rohan.
II am afraid she Is unable to see any
one this morning" said the butler; she
Is resting for tonight.
DR.. Harrowden knit his brows In per-
plexity. He remembered that the sing
err had generously offered to throw open
her castle to the public on that night
and to give the first entertainment in
her new theater for the benefit of a
fund for wounded soldiers.
All the country We're clamoring for
tickets. Fabulous prices had been paid
even for standing room, and report said
the diva, having spared no pains nor ex-
pense to make the occasion a success,
was about to eclipse herself in a new
part, specially written and composed
for her, In an operate adaptation of
"Othello."
The matter Is a very urgent one,"
said DR.. Harrowden, after a pause. Il
have a request to make of Mile. Rohan
that can only be made personally. If
you will risk her displeasure and allow
me to make my way to her I will take
all the blame. l may say it Is a ques-
ton almost of life and death"
The man, who knew DR.. Harrowden
as n whose reputation, even in a vii
lage practice, gave weight to his words.
yielded, and, telling him that made
moiselle had taken the path toward the
copse, led him through the conserva-
tory and directed him to the shortest
way.
He came so suddenly upon the little
clearing where Evangeline was that
neither she o her companion per-
ceived him. She was standing up, a
singular look on her beautiful face.
which was bereft of its usual color. and
both her hands were outstretched be-
fore her as though to ward off some
thing that she dreaded, and that vet
fascinated her.
His face, a dark-eyed, brown-skinned
one, with something in its southern in
tensity that marred its handsomeness.
must have worn a threatening express
sion, for she recoiled with a little cry
of alarm, and, turning, saw DR.. Har-
rowden as he stepped toward her.
"Ah, doctor!!' she said, a little shaken
still, but smiling, 'ft is a long time since
l have seen you, which speaks well for
my health, though not for my hospi-
tally. But you are coming tonight. |
hope?'
You have asked me to the castle
most kindly" he answered quietly, but
l am a busy man. as you know, made
molselle, and have to deny myself many
pleasures. have ventured to intrude
on you, for which you must please lay
the blame solely on me, because l have
a little patient down there In the viii
lage whose recovery seems to depend
entirely on you"
ION mel"
MY patient is a little child who has
been at deaths door through fever, and
whose one desire. night and day, has
been to hear you sing. We thought 1t a
delirious fancy that would pass, but 1t
seems that, had she been well. she was
to have come up to the castle one day
when you sang to the villagers, and
that she lost her chance through this
illness. She raves and weeps alternate
ly and will not sleep, begging always
to be taken to you so that she might
ask you to sing n little song to her."
Where is she? Take me to her, doc
tor, and l will sing to her at once"
Half an hour later, with all her soul
in her exquisite voice, she vas stand
ing In the cottage singing a song Of life
and love to the bewildered villagers,
while the sick child, propped up by pill
VS. to hear the desire Of her heart,