The age-herald., 1901-03-17

started at the sound. Her tired limbs
 weak from insufficient nourishment, ex- hausted by the strain, swayed a little. A horrible giddiness came over her.
 Weakly she put out her hands to ward off the blackness that came before her eys. With a crush the image in her
 arms fell to the floor, just as the priest entered.
 Henri turned to Marie with an impre-
 cation, then started forward but another
 was before him, and in another moment
 the limp figure was held in Father Feli- clans arms.
 Quick, Henri, bring wine!" carrying her to the door for air. |She has fainted
 from exhaustion. Poor girl! She looks
 half starved.''
 The old sculptor crossed himself pious- ly. Let her alone, father; she Is a heretic" he whispered.
 For shamel And for that reason
 would you let fellow being suffer-"
 At the stern rebuke, Henri was sllenced.
 He brought a glass, grumbling to him
 self at the waste of good wine on Prot
 estant.
 Very gently the priest rubbed the slen-
 der, blue-veined hands, and pushed back
 the dark masses of hair. With tender
 touch he bathed the white face, forcing
 wine bteween the palid lips. And pres
 ently Marie had a realizing sense that
 she was back in a hard, cruel world,
 and weary sigh escaped her in conse-
 quence. She wished she could die.
 There was a strong, sympathetic face
 bending over her, and a kindly voice
 gave assurance. Somewhere she had
 heard that voice before, somewhere in a dream perhaps. Her wandering glance fell on her limbs, scantily covered A | flush overspread the pale face, burning to the hair on her brow, and down to | the bosom. With a little gasp her
 hands covered the burning face. | During her instinctive shame he cov- | cred her warmly with his overcoat.
 "Tell me, child; did you have anything
 to eat today?'
 She shook her head.
 "Oh, the pity of it! And you posed all | day without rest or food! Jesu, have
 pity! Have you no home no one to care
 for you?"
 Gradually he drew from her the pitiful story of her many sufferings and hard | ships The story of many a poor girl | without home or friends obliged to battle | with the world to find means of main tenance in great city. Yes; 1t was pitt | full.
 In a short space of time they were seat ed in Q restaurant, bowl of thick soup, bread and coffee before her. And good 1t tasted to the girl whose lips had not tasted food for two days
 And Marie in her prayers that nigh'
 
 friend who had aided her in time of dis tress, and who had promised to help her to secure better employment. Midnight had sounded from the tower of St Catherine's, the tones of the great bell ringing loudly over sleeping city. | From the Latin quarter, crowded with wooden tenements, filled to overf1owing | with humanity, there came puff of | smoke curling upward in spirals that | lost themselves in the still night air. l Another smoke-wreath that grew and l grew to denser clouds, half obscured the | twinkling stars A light other than that | of approaching dawn shone on the sky. | Marie, dreaming in her bed, woke with | a sudden start great fear possessed | her-an oppressive feeling that some | great danger was near. In the darkness | she saw the Madonnas sweet face look | ing at her with appealing eyes. She | seemed to hear Father Felicians kind | voice calling her. So great was the lm- | pression that she scarce waited to don | her garments before hastening down on | the street, quiet and almost deserted. The few belated pedestrians gave but | careless heed to the slender, black-robed | figure flying down the street. What was
 that light before her, that bright and | brighter grew as she ran on? Bells be- | gan to ring; an engine rushed by with | changing gong. Great pillows of people began to gather before the studios of | Monsieur Henri. Great pillows of smoke | laden with fire brands rolled across the | street and up to the vast expanse of sky | above. The spiteful tongues of flame | cured gleefully about the precious work | of the great sculptor, licking up tho work of lifetime, reducing to ashes and ruin the art of a master.
 At little distance strong men were holding by force the struggling frantic
 Henri, whose rage and grief knew no
 bounds. With tears, prayers and curses he besought them to save. his master pieee the fathers Madonna. But firm
 hands held him back, and he could only curse and sob in his despair. The main building was a mass of flame when a slender, girlish figure came from out the crowd, rushed up the steps and disappeared within that hell of fire. A cry of horror went up from that surging crowd Several men tried to follow, but Were beaten back by suffocating smoke. None dares to enter that seething fur mace. Streams of water were poured into the building while above the noise of an excited crowd came the sharp crackle and roar of fire, making an appealing sound.
 Then from out. the dense smoke there appeared tall figure, shrouded in many wrappings It was mounted on small platform on rollers; behind, choking, blinded, pushing with all her feeble strength. came Marie the brave model.
 A dozen eager hands caught her and the Madonna from the fierce grasp of flame just as the roof fell in, burying all that priceless statuary, the laborious work of years But Father Felician's Madonna was safe.
 In an aleyway near by, on an impro- vised bed of coats, lay the brave girl. who had sacrificed her life. Her hands were clasped in those of the father, her good friend, who knelt beside her mur- muring prayers.
 Painfully she opened the now sightless eyes. Was it injured-the Madonna?" she gasped.
 ''No dear child; you saved it for me-" His voice shook with emotion.
 Marie tried to smile
 The priest put his lips to her ear to call back for a moment the fast depart ing spirit that already had heard an an- gels call. My dear Madonna, the Holy Mother herself could not make greater sacrifice. You have given your life-may the blessed Father of divine compassion take you to him. to life of eternal joy and peace, rest that shall endure"
 Streaks of rosy yellow pierced the east, uIA Ia . "a q. -A