Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1910-12-16

on the still face, her body cold as death
"HeneriqueI" her voice came agair
and was a strained whisper, and out Of
the gloom sounded a sudden answer.
"Maria!"
Maria lifted her face, white now a:
the face of the silent figure. She deem
ed it to be the sacristan come to close
the doors. He was friend of hers.
Let me stay with him, good Chico?'
she entreated, in fiat, eXpressionless
voice, out of which all individuality
seemed to have died; lit is all the hap.
piness 1 ask of life-now-this one Ions
night to watch by his side!"
"Maria."
The voice came again. There was 6
youthful vibration in it. Assuredly II
was not the sacristan, who was seventy
and asthmatic. Moreover, strong arms
closed round Maria and a shower OF
pet diminutives fell on her dull ear.
Then a sort of trembling eeriness
possessed her.
1t was Henerique-the dead Hene-
rique.
1T is his spirit" she said aloud
come to bring me the forgiveness I sc
sorely need"
1T is no spirit"-the voice had ring
of mirth in 1t now.
And then she struggled to her feet
still with those arms around her.
"Henerique!" she cried, But
No other word would come; deadly
faintness closed round her again. She
pointed to the box.
What Is it?" she breathed. who is
he?"
"Canst thou bear story, little one?'
Henerique asked tenderly, out Of the
gloom. Maria controlled herself by a
great effort, and faced this supreme JOY
borne out Of sorrow and laid her hand
in his
Il can bear anything if thou are in
deed safe"
1T was a miracle" he told her 81
flung his arm upward and the charge
went through my hat. But the crowd
pressed me and l fell. At first they
thought l was badly wounded"
But this-this?" she persisted in an
awed voice, and pointed again to the
box.
1T was a secret, dear one. The
Senior Irmao, who is a sculptor OF re-
pute, saw me one day at my work. Hee
had been commissioned to carve ir
alabaster the new ST. Anthony, who is
to stand here in the niche above his
shrine. He said" Henerique hesi-
tated-"that my face was exactly suit
able for his purpose. At first
Maria, I was a little angry-I am sc
weary of my saint face-but the pay
was so good-it brought our marriage
nearer, and consented. 1 came
one day to the kiosk meaning to tel
you; but in your eyes saw that which
no true man stands. You despised me
You thought Of me as the doll-the goot
little carved doll-not as the lover will
ing to die for you. 1 made vow
heart of mine, that l would prove my
self worthy before 1 spoke to you
again. l have done So" (He said
this quite simply and without affecta-
tion). That the good little saint
should come home on the same night
is merely a coincidence. Touch his
face, beloved-he is really man OF
stone"
Maria did so fearfully. The saints
face was a work Of art admirably exc
cuted; and in that subdued light very
lifelike, or, rather, death-like. But II
was hard and icy to her touch, and she
was satisfied.
But what led yeu here?" she asked
pressing his arms.
The Royalists (thank God there
were many in the crowdD would have
made a hero Of me. So l slipped away
and here l came to say prayer OF
thanksgiving"
And them" she asked.
Then l was coming to thee, love OF
my life, for the approval, which is more
to me than the acclaim of multitude
Here the sacristan, who had heard
nothing of the tumult outside, limped
up.
1T is closing time" he growled
Hast thou seen our new Anthony? BY
the saints a lovely figure!"
"A lovely figure indeed" agreed
Henerique and Maria together. And
then they went out into the night
where the newsboys Haunted their pa
pers and cried the marvellous tale OF
the kings escape.-Truth.