The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1901-12-19

and acclaimed. The fires of genius
burned within her soul and lent i'm
pulse to her heaven-gifted brush, the
critics said. To-day had been the hour
of triumph for her art. The salons
first prize decked her masterpiece. A
host Of friends and connoisseurs pre-
dicted for her a future wherein fame
and luxury waited at her bidding-and
then came before her that stern white
face, and its eyes held her trembling
in their cold, unwavering stare.
She drew her hands from her face
and looked fixedly at the dim study
upon the easel above her as she
crouched upon the rug. In the faint
light it seemed the fantastic home OF
elusive shadows. Yet IS her gaze grew
firmer the pencilad lines started from
the background and revealed them
selves with clearness.
"Repentance," a title read below. a
woman in an October wood, half
cleared. She was looking to the west,
where a falling sun had nearly crept
beyond her s1raininr gaze. Her hair
had fallen in a winc-driven glory be-
hind her, her arms were stretched in
pathetic gesture of recall and invita-
ton, and across her face fell a somber
look of heart-wringing longing and re-
gret And yet-such is the divine touch
of cenius-one who with clear eye
could read, might have seen in some
Elusive, intangible ire the birth of a
golden hope that repentance had not
come too late; that the swift-falling
sun would rise once more.
There was a DIGNITY, po!se and
grace. an indispensable pathos in this
lone figure Of the wood which stirred
the heart and moved the very soul
to cry out that the mute prayer
must find an answer; that within
the ashes of its crushed past there
must Turk a spark which should rise
to a living flame.
One could not but know, as they
faced each other. in that light OF
shadows, that these two women
were in truth but one. She who sat
disheveled upon the rug surely was
none other than the sun-imploring
creature Of the autumn wood. 1t
was not that the likeness of Inca
ment was striking, but in the bit
ter abandonment of pose, in the wild
craving of their speaking silence, in
the tender wooing of the arms which
voicelessly called out their woe, they
were the same, and indivisible, one
the insensate shadow of a living
cry, one the sensate bodiment of a
life-wearing sorrow.
Eleanor sat long, and still. What
tempests tossed her heart in that
deep communion cannot be told. 1t
was herself, her soul, she had limned
upon her canvased Repentance, D."
and in the revelations of the night it
seemed all too plain to her that she
| had painted on a signboard the Sc
eret of her heart and invited him who
ran to read.
The December sun shone in her
| window when she rose from her
strange vigil by the living dead.
| There was newborn resolution in
her look. She laved her face care
fully to hide its stains of tears.
Then she brushed her glorious crown
of hair and put on her coat.
"a walk will do me good" she said
to herself. THE morning is splen-
did. AS soon as l can after noon
[ will withdraw my picture from the
gallery. 1t has told too much al
ready. He, at least, shall never
| tnow."
She put on her iaunty fur hat. A
long look in her mirror told her the
traces of the night of watching had
vanished beneath the impulses of the
morning. She was still beautiful, no
| doubt, despite her score and five of
years; despite the tragedy of her
! heart.
She tore the study of "Repentance'
from its easel and thrust it upon the
blazing asbestos leg. Then she slow
ly and thoughtfuliy drew on her
gloves.
The studio bell uttered a long, i'm,
| perative summons. Eleanor started
sharply. What impossible call was
that? At sunrise? Who could it
| NC d VI odu 81 td1 VI 50 ldle we'll
let them ring. She was not at home
Again the bell called her, as if in
imperative demand. It's tone was
masculine, demanding. Who could it
be? Well
She flung wide the door.
Upon the threshold stood a figure,
tall, manly, strong, with barred head
- if before shrine. Out of the
dark eyes set in pallid frame a glance
burned in upon her, devoured her
snatched up her spirit unresisting
into its wild caress, and then her
lover came upon her with wide
| stretched arms.
Harold" she cried. "Ohl Har-
| old! Have you come at last"
And they set their faces to the east
where the risen sun spread a new
glory across the snowy world.
Navigation by Electric Light.
An important patent connected
with the st. Lawrence navigation has
been issued and submitted to Mr.