THE WEST SHOUE.
197
BAB, OR LIVES THAT TOUCHED.
TART I.
rPHE golden sunlight was beginning to fade in the
I land of flowers. A minute before it had shone
in all its splendor, making more intense the bine of
the gulf waters in the distance, the green and gold of
the orange groves on shore, and the white of the lit
tie cottage nestling among them. How calm and
peaceful the scene, as sea and earth waited the even
tide. Presently a window was thrown open in tbe cot
tage, and a daring, restless sunbeam, like a frisking
lamb loitering outside the fold, flashed in and rested
for a moment on the pale, emaciated face on the pil
low. A ghastly smile played over the sick man's fea
tures, as he essayed to touch the dancing ray with his
nerveless fingers. " A good omen," he faintly whis
pered to the girl bending over him. "See!" One
moment it rested carelessly on the head of the mate
watcher, then, with a half-reluctant motion, disap
peared, leaving naught but gray shadows behind.
"Evelyn, love," how faint and far the voico
sounded to the ear bent to catch the words" you
will send the letter to your uncle as soon as I am
gone, and remember all I have said? "
" Yes, dearest father, everything shall bo as you
wish; but are you feeling worse?"
" I am so tired, love, and dread so leaving you
alone. If only Harold had"
There, don't worry, father, God will bo my friend.
He is ever the orphan's friend, you have told me."
" When thy father and mother forsake thee, then
tho Lord will take thee up.' Even so; but I some
times soem to forget Now 1 think I will try and
sleep, I am so weary."
" Dearest father," and the girl pressed a long, lov
ing kiss on the cold forehead.
A moment later, tho door opened softly and a
dusky form crept in. The watcher motioned her to a
seat With a silent nod, tho colored woman sank into
it and covered her face with her apron. Noiselesaly
the two kept their vigil till the last faint gleam of
daylight had fled, then, knowing tho superstitious na
ture of her companion, Evelyn Fletcher ros and
lighted a lamp, carefully shading it from tho faco -f
the sleeper. Going over to tho black woman, she
"aid, in a whisper, "You are tired, Mollie; ho down
there on the couch."
" No, missus, you rest" ,
" Not now; after-" A moan from the invalid in
terrupted her, and in an instant she was by bis
One glance, and she knew tho wont
" Mollie! " Iler tones were full of agony, and tho
servant know that tho supremo moment of hor young
mistress' sorrow was at hand.
" Yes, dearie,"
There was no outcry, no struggle. Weaker and
weakor throbbed tho pulse, shorter and shorter caroo
the breath, one sigh liko that of a tired child yielding
to sleep.
" Dar, honey, yo kin do no more; ho's done gono
homo, bress do Lo'd."
With her own hands tho girl closed tho eyes that
had looked their last so lovingly on hor, and folded
the thin hands across tho pulseless breast
"Shall I fetch Missio Bailey?" questioned Mol
lie, in an awed whisper.
" No or, yes, if you wish."
Thero was no fear, no shrinking at thus being left
alone with her precious dead; rather a satiifaotion to
kneel by tho bedside and pour out her ent-up grief
in prayer to Him who could hear, and loving, tender
words to him who cold not hear. It was not Evelyn
Fletcher's first acquaintance with death. Again and
again had sho striven to hold soma dear one back
when his icy hand was upon them, but ever in vain.
It was evening of tho samn day ujxm which l!ve
lyn found hemelf an orphan, alone, in sunny Florida,
that a sunbeam -and who knows but what it was tho
saraoono that kiiiaed the faeoof tho dying man there?
- ilitted boldly through tho branches of a tree guard
ing tho window in the second story of a rambling old
house on ono of Salt Lake City's broad and handsorno
streets, and rested on tho faeo of another human I
ing, whoso feet were already lapprd by tho waves of
tho mystic river.
" Mother, mother, dou't die. Don't go and leavo
mo hero alone, I can not, can not, live without you,"
cried tho girl, scarcely inoro than a child, who lin
geml by tho bedsido.
" Hush, Hab, my precious baby, you know mother
would stay if she could for her darling's sako; but
(I(k1 will Uko care of you, I am sura of it, for I Iwo
prayed so earnestly tight and day slnc ever you
carno to my arms, that He would deliver you from ths
power of tho who have wrecked my lifo."
" Jlut I shall uiUs you sot Oh, mother, If you
would only take mo with you."
" Almost I can say that I wish I might; but you
hire promlswl mo, Uab, that you will cover bocniaoa
jiolygarnous wifo."
" Yes, I havo promU'l, and I will dU rather than
break it"
" Tho Ird help you. Uut hark! Don't I hear
your father's voico? Yes, 'tis hs; go bring him,
quick."