ONE CHRISTMAS EVE.

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Issue 6033, 27 December 1890, Page 5 (Supplement)

ONE CHRISTMAS EVE.

(Conclusion.) [t may have been hours, it may have been lews ! T can not toll when I beL'tin to stir uneasily in my sleep. The mi ml, passive in heavy slumber, only gave, one partial consciousness of a sense of oppression weighing on chest and eveliils. Moaning, 1 turned my head i'votn side to side, struggling with a half-sense of siiiVoeation. Gradually came to me the thought, the realisation j of danger. With an effort I sat up in bed, striving to understand where [ was, what was the- matter ! The room was so dark I could see nothing ; but I could feel the thick smoke pressing inti my eyes, ears, nostrils, stilling my breath. The blackness of the room showed me that the lire w.is from below. Stumbling I groped my way to the window, opening wide the shutters and throwing up the sash. The chill night air cut liken knife, but it revived me : 1 could breathe and think again. Though the full moon was high in the heavens, it could only send its rays a short distance into the room, the thick curtain of smoke hanging before the steps leading up into the chamber absorbing the momilight that fell upon it. Leaning far out of the window I uttered one piercing scream aiVr another —then drew my breath to listen. 2s T o sound broke the awful silence, the world, my world, was hushed in sleep. Half sobbing, trembling with cold and tear. 1 groped my way about the room, putting on the. thickest woollen garments I had. and drawing on my hoots with frenzied eagerness. Holdin," my hand to my mouth. I started ihrn-n the staircase. The smoke rolled up to me. over me ; but gasping, sobI.mih-, 1 struggled <m. I had gone but three ~)• umr sieps when .1 remembered thai l»"se had locked me in, am) the , key was. in her pocket.

'Oh, my God!' I wailed, 'what shall I do ?' Then came the thought, jump from a window ! Again I forced myself to step further down into that suffocating, black mass. I had almost reached the drapericd landing when the air from my open window blew aside for a moment the low-lying smoke, and I saw that ail the matting in the room was on fire and the wainscoting under the windows was burning. ' God have mercy on me ! God have mercy!' I moaned, as I realised the death-trap I was in. Well-nigh suffocated, I staggered up the stairway anil stumbled to the window. Wildly I looked up at the cold, bright moon speeding across the trackless waste of slate-blue, star-gemmed sky, then down at the silent world on which its soft radiance rested unbroken, but where the leafless trees made long, slim shadows. Not a sail, not a boat cutting through the shining white of the river spreading away to the shadowing bend which hid its course. Glancing towards evenquarter for help I screamed louder and louder. Still no sound far nor near ! Could I climb down from the window? Memory, with the odd trick she sometimes has of bringing back long past scenes when the present moment is full of anguish or terror, now recalled to me. a bright morning in June when, after vainly begging my black mammy to let me go barefooted, I escaped from her hands and running off to a cherry tree climbed it nimbly and sat on a leafy bough, merrily dangling my little bare feet : while, mammy, with outragged dignity in every line of her angular figure and tall checked turban, called to me : ' Cum fum dyar ! Effen you don' cum fum dyar I gwine tell yo' pa what a tormboy you is—al'ays elim'in' tree like eat or boy, or sumpin !' Could I revive the childish accomplishment now and save my life, .' But the massive walls were bare of any ledges for foothold, not. even outside shutters to the windows below, and my heart grew sick within me as I looked at the dizzy height. Would not my cries awaken my parents ? How could they sleep on while their child was in such peril 1 With angry, indignant sobs, I shook my fist at the sleepinghousehold. Then I thought of a time in my childhood when, after being forbidden to stand on tbe fenders, I had climbed one in the nursery to lift something from the mantel piece and had fallen with outstretched arms on a bed of hot coals. How well I remembered the weary days and nights my mother had held me in her arms, soothing the pain and my fretful complainings with songs, stories, and loving words ; and my father had ridden away in the cold arid rain one night to a village five miles off to buy me some candy, because he said • a servant will not bring it quickly enough to please mv dear little Sri " , . Such tender recollections clustering about my heart softened the sense of utter desolation and my bitter weeping ceased. Exhausted by violent emotion and stilled by despair, torturing fancy pictured to me the way death would come. First, the stilling sense of suffocation as the smoke closed in about me, and then, the bursting flames scorching and burning my flesh until life ended in horrible agony. I could see the. frantic distress which would attend the finding of my poor disfigured body ! The little churchyard with its throng of mourners around an open grave next rose before me. Face alter face of acquaintance and friend I saw, with the bowed forms of my weeping parents, while distinct as life were the features <>f Hubert Southcote. white and drawn withpain. Would he jump into the grave, begging them to cover him in, too ; or would he, with stern self control, wait until the, last solemn word had been said, and the mound heaped high, and dash himself down upon it—to die .' Unable to bear the misery thus conjured up, L rushed from window to window, with frenzied screams. Suddenly I heard the sound of distant singing : hanging out of the window with strained ears and eyes, I caught the chorus of a negro hymu : ' Come, Lord Jesus, come, I say ! Coruo again dis Ohrismus Day !' I knew the custom of a day-break prayer meeting, Christinas morning, < vi every plantation, and now my he.'irt j leaped high with the hope of rose tie. 1 Hut I had long to wait. Verse a fter verse was sung, the voices swelling and falling into a sort of rhythmic cha nt in the refrain. At last, after a long pause, lobserved a light moving along the- path leading frmn the negro cabins to the house. Slowly it advanced, now hidden by a rise in the ground, then by a turn in the path, glimmering among the bare tree trunks until the portly form of the old cook came into view. Putting all my strength into my voice, T cried out, calling her name. The air was so still, 1 could hear her say: • lleish 1 Who tint " • It is Mary Morison, Mammy Lila, and the house is on lire,' 1 called back. Tbe old woman broke into :i run and was soon in front of my window. ' Lordy, elf en yonder am' tnarsier's chile 'mo's' hunt up !' I heard her exclaim, and oil she went, yelling ' Fire ! fire !' My father, mother, the girls, and servants, came running from every point. Sobbing, screaming, running here and there, the wildest confusion prevailed. My father one moment ordered the door to be beaten in, but when 1 called down the condition of the, burning room, he abandoned that as adding to my peril, aud begged me to try if I could jump from the window in blankets which would beheld to receive me. The flames from the burning room cast lurid reflections on the trees near by, and they seemed to be creeping higher. fn'the midst of the cries, the impossible suggestions, the aimless hurrying about, the tall, elderly elergynian"appoarcd who had so unexpectedly beeu our guest that evening. Crasping the situation at a glance, he turned quietly to my father, saying : ' Mr Morison, can I send for a ladder ?' j ' Anything, sir, anything! so my

child is saved,' replied my half-dis-tracted father. ' Bring the longest ladder you can find,' said Mr Payson to a negro man, who rushed off to do his bidding. Then to me he said : Wrap up in all your blankets while, you have to stand there waiting.' This suggestion was a good one, for though warmly clad, I was shaking all over from cold, combined with nervous excitement. At last the ladder was brought; but when placed against the house proved to be a few feet too short. My father groaned aloud, as in reply to Mr Payson's question the negro said that was the longest ladder on the place. ' Then we must make it do,' lie said. Held firmly in place against the house by the strong colored men who had collected, my father was about to climb it when Mr Payson said : ' Let me go, Mr Morison, my nerves are steadier than yours, and I am taller.' My father silently gave way, and Mr Payson walked up to the second rung from the top, looking anxiously to see how he could climb up to me ; but there was nothing which could give him foothold between the ladder and the I window. For a moment he looked perplexed, then asked me, ' could you tie the bed clothes to anything in the room strong enough to stand the strain from your body?' ' Yes, the bed is of heavy mahogany, and would answer." I replied. Then, following Ids directions, I tied the bed clothes in • sailors' knots' and, after attaching one end to the bed, fixed the other around my waist. So far, I had acted mechanically : but now. when it came to dropping myself down from the window, the danger seemed so great that I could not do it. "With tears rolling down my cheeks, and chaffering teeth, 1 sat in the win-dow-seat, while Mr Payson patiently waited for tne. The weird light- of the moon and breaking day rested <m the up-turned, eager faces. ' Silont as we grow when feeling most.' The flames were climbing the inside shutters, and through the window the red glare showed the trees, lawn, and all objects near, as though dipped in blood. ' Hurry!' said Mr Payson to me, : the flames may burst, upwards.' As he spoke the window furthest off shattered and fell hi burning fragments. I could -delay no longer. Getting out on the window ledge, \ hung for a moment Ivy my hands. 1 heard my mother's prayer for me—groans, subdued crif.'s from all gathered there, and then, as my clutching lingers sLipped their hol'. : l—I knew no more ! A faint, sweet smell of violets and the clear notes of a blue bird roused me r.<> open my eyes. The soft spring breeze was stirring the white muslin curtains at the window, open from the top, and. as my gaze wandered about the. roouf, I saw, with surprise, that my father was sitting by the small fire burning on the hearth, reading a newspvpor. while mv mother sewed by his sir>. ' Mamma !' T said in a voice that sounded to me weak and far away, ' what is the matter ? Why are you and papa sitting in my room .'' She dropped her work and came to me with a look of such mingled relief and sadness in her face that I could not understand it. I observed, too, that my father was watching me over tin; top of his paper. • You have, been very ili, my child, and we are nursing you,' was my mother's ansver to my question. As she spoke the recollection of that dreadful night came back to me, and, shm'.doringly, I asked : ' Was any one hurt .'' •Xo, my cliibl : The tower was burned to the .ground, but the rest of •the house was uninjured.' ' And the kind clergyman V I asked. ' You fainted as your bauds dropped their hold on the window-framing and fell like a dead body, swinging half around against the ladder : but the men were holding it steadily, so he was not shaken from his balance, and caught you in his arms. As he reached the ground with you the window underneath the ladder fell out, and as the flames leaped forth from the opening, you would have been badly burned had you been two minutes later.' I strove to follow her account, hut could not understand why it seemed such an effort for me to do so. The flowers in my room, the springlike air coming in through the open window aroused my mind again, ' Mamma, that was at Christmas, and now spring seems to be here. Have I been ill all that time ." As I spoke I put my hand mechanically to my head, as if expecting to find help there in realising the lapse of time, when I felt that my hair was cut short all over my head. • Oh, mamma, why did you cutoff my hair.'' f cried. 'l saw the troubled, sad look on her face intensify, and my father's bands trembled as he held his paper before his face. My mother replied caressingly, ' My dear child, you had brain fever and it. was necessary." Something in her face and in my father's studied absorption in his paper. Idled me with indefinable dread of trouble yet to come. Had that night ami that long illness following it left disfigurement behind .' ' Mamma,' ! exclaimed eagerly, ' please give me a looking-glass ?' She hesitated, but seeing I was growing terribly excited, my father said in a low tone to her: ' It has to come, my dear : let her have it,' My mother's hands shook as she held up a mirror before me, and, with a rapidly beating heart, I looked into it. Great heavens ! What a sig.m met my .eyes ? Stubby, while hair covered the scalp. the thin cheeks were pallid ; one cy 0

looked out lustreless, from its deep socket, while the other waa partially closed from the facial paralysis which had twisted one side of the mouth and I face. Dashing away the glass, I buried my face in the pillows, while my sobs sliook the bed. I felt the hot tears upon my neck from my dear, old father's eyes, as he tried to sooth me by caresses, and I heard him sob out: ' < Would to God I had died my daughter, oh, my daughter' " When no answering caress came from me, he gently moved away, and I hoard him sighing heavily, as his slippered feet echoed "through the hall, and down the stairs. My mother spoke words of love and comfort to which I paid little heed. But when I broke out in a bitter, despairing wail r ' I wish I. were dead ! I wish I were dead !' then she told me how wicked that was, how thankful I should be to God for sparing my life ! Thankful for life ! For life with youth and beauty slain in girlhood's brightest hours ! My God ! forgive , the unwitting blasphemy, if I thought of the bloody Assyrian conqueror who tore out the* tongues and put out the eyes of his captive kings, and then mockingly bade them live. Days passed away; my violent grief had subsided into utter apathy. I would see no one of the many friends who came t<t ask after me. ■ Mr Southcote sent flowers and fruits daily which I received with apparent indifference, but gave them my kisses and tears when left alone. One morning in April I had seated myself at the parlor window and was gazing idly out on tlio sunny landscape. Through the tender leaves upon the trees I could see the boats and sails on the rivor and listening, catch the robins' and the bluebirds' sweet notes of welcome to the spring. Soon, I saw Mr Southcote ride up the gravelled drive and, with a word of enquiry to the servant raking leaves under the trees, he sprang from his horse, throwing him the reins and came towards the house, with a look of eager expectancy in his handsome face. My heart bounded so fast that my first impulse was to turn away, but the overmastering desire to see him again and hear his voice held mo fast. Another moment and the servant, had let him in. When he caught sight of me he stood for a second transfixed on the threshold, all the light and joy dying out of his face in that brief period. True gentleman that he was, he quickly recovered himself and, advancing with all his wanted courtesy of manner, asked about my health and expressed his pleasure in being permitted to see me again. Sitting down by me lie conversed for a while on general topics ; then, with an effort he could not entirely disguise, lie reverted to what had passed between us and made me an offer of marriage. Oh, the humiliating pain of being offered marriage by the man who had ceased to love me ! I know he spoke as his sense of honor prompted : lie felt he had said too much that Christmas Eve not to aslc me now to marry him. Fully as coldly as he had spoken I repulsed him, adding that I should never marry. 'At 1S such a vow is rather rash,' he said with a half smile. ' Youth and I have been torn apart forever !' I replied, and 1 suppose some of the agony in my heart was forced to the surface, for a look «»f infinite compassion came into his handsome face, dimming the glorious eyes ; then he said, very gently : ' I fonr I have tried you beyond your strength with this interview.' Kneeling, lie held my hand for a moment tightly clasped, then pressing it to his lips, left me alone again. 1 looked at the hand his lips had touched and felt a thrill of pleasure tlv.U its soft, dimpled whiteness had survived that frightful night's wreck. With dry eyes 1 watched him mount his horse' and dash rapidly out of sight. T saw the boats go up and down the river with the sunlight on their sails ! and my gaze followed the April sunshine as it chased the shadows of the ? fleeting clouds across the young, green grass : then my eyes rested on a mocking bird, poised on a limb near by, who, with head on side, listened and repeated the varying notes of robin, iav, and wren ; waiting a moment, as if for a reply, he tuned his throat with a mellow chord or two and trilled forth his full, joyous melody. All the earth was glad with life and hope, while I ! 0, Thou, from whose breaking heart was wrung that bitter cry upon the cross of love forsaken —Have mercy now upon me !