The Darlington news. (Darlington, S.C.) 1875-1909, May 19, 1892, Image 3
^ENBV J. I'MCMPaOB,
PROPRIETOR.
upon the most reasonable lerms.
hh |
are should
i’TCtttJ.
the imrihon
himself, with the more wiliHf«i fi.. H
eanse he hiel n *np|»>rt On the rnlllnjrfbr
hie book anti H riH>f overlie.11 t.. I.eep
away the intrusive rays of the smi p»
lire Prani'iHtX) h.'igere.l. talking pleaxaiit
TERMti—$t Her Annum in Ailvanoe; ly. until he was linallv at work, and
50 vent* for « months; 35 cents for then, saying that his own work awaited
8 months. ! him. he took his de|iartiire. with manv
Advertising Rates: wishes for the sia*ei9iH of the picture
One Square tlret insertion $1.00 As his slender, casMK'keil figure weu!
One Square second insertion 50 down the glen Derwent watched it with
Every sulwequeiit Insertion.......V-...30 » smile, saying to himself that if
Contract advertisements ^nserted, pj( . tnn . „ H< „ Mccww that „
enter into it •Dona Zanfa will iike ;
that, be thought, for he knew how dear
the geulle priest was to every one at |
Miraliores. He had heard from Don I
Maunzio that he belonged to one of the |
primerilssl religions orders, which. I
roblieil, exiled and defrauded by thegov i
emment. are yet tpiietly doing the work !
of (iod in (Kiverty and obscurity all over
Mexico
The young man was thinking of that
figure, and of all the long hue of such j
figures which had Christianized and
civilized a savage people, as he worked 1
v.ith a facility that surprised himself, i
Perhaps the stimulus was the desire to
gratify Dona Zarifa—for love can do |
wonderful things and develop powers^
almost undreamed of—or perhaps he*
fMissessed more talent than he had hither- I
to imagined At all events his sketch I
was growing in the most satisfactory |
I manner, and he was so absorbed in its i
progress that he had almost forgotten to \
told mtn that'll wm baft to
should he made i slone. even if there bad not been
tii» Deri&ent settled for him to do. It was alow and difficult
work conveying the wounded man to the
hospital, where Our Lady of Onadnlnpe
stoo I
M wm aitogacter balkad In bia desire to
express bu gratitude to Zarifa that be
thought of offering the same aratiment
to (Iod. Perhaps he would not have
thought of it at all—certainly not of 1
as sue said tunas words With ths
most osmett emphasis, but never could
be leas have dared anything that savoted
in the remotest degree of presumption.
Mot cniy the greatness of bis obligation
nliov • the doorway, as if to wel-. taking his way to church for the (air- overjaiwerwl him, hut. as the revealed to
■*nttie nil who came, ■ * ■
laid down on a white lied—the most wild,
gaiHit. bloody object that had ever come
within those quiet walls
■arrela Without Stares.
Barrels and casks are nownucceesfully
turned oat direct from the tree—that is.
without the wood having to lie cut up 1
into numerous staves. By this method,
which is kuown as the Unckeu system,
ami where he was , poee—bad not the atmosphere of Mira- him (with unconscious reliance upon his . “ ‘ U, ' Wn .T, , "
ied—the most wild I florae begun to tell on him But he bad | sympathy which touched hie. Z .a. th « treo -**« “ arst “ w « 1 ,nto k ' n 8^ 9
CHAPTER XIH.
A Kish.
It waa nothing but * rose I gave her
Nothing but a row*.
Any wind mi n 'ht rob «>f italf its savor
Any wind that blown.
When she took it from tuy trembling finger*
With a hand as chiil—
Ah! the flying touch upon them lingera,
Buys, and thrills them still!
Withered, faded, pressed betwoeu the poge^
Crumpled fold on fold— __
Once it lay upon her breast, and ages
Cannot make it old!
A
> & '' FOR
%7 rbRTUNE
him to the
a nature readily impressed by ail things : heart) all the depths of her feelings, he
beautiful, ami must readily by those was like one taken into a sanctuary
which were lieaotifal in the moral rather j where the very atmosphere rebuked any
Ihau iu the physical order When lie thing lha. inclined to seihsh passion
saw the whole household of Mirafloren ' “Yea. jun have saved my life." he
and all those ou the hacienda who were ; said. “A'id I tieg yon never to forget
able to do so. gather every morning m 1 it. for it is a thought upon which I shall
Ft*
BY CHRISTIAN-REID-
COPveiOHT BV AMERICAN PRESS ASSOCIATION
CHAPTER XIL
He took the other hnml und hi used tt.
Exultation is the only word which will
. - at all describe Don Maurizio's sentiments
wonder if Dona Zanfa would appear ac- : wlleIl , ie ht . ard of th:4t lnura i ug ’g work .
cording to her promise, when suddenly, | Ho couM w , irce i y think of Derwent’s
in such quick succession as to lie alinns: narrow escape, or of the terrible necessity
wiiinltaniwis, two shots rang sharply on liiu i upou Zanfa, In his gratifi-
the !;ir, the last—a rifle hall—just tfra*- cation at having the would be assassin
mg his ear and then flattening itself on j ju | nsuwll hall(la
the stone column beside which he sat. j .. Now we gha u t now all!” he said;
The book dropped from bis hand and i “now the mystery will be cleared
"/* he daidi"
“I am sorry,’’ said Don Manririo. com
ing out the next morning to find the
usual group gathered under the arcade
around the great doorway—to wit. Dona
Zarifa, Derwent, the horses and the
mozos—“that I shall have to disappoint
yon about onr ride this morning. I find
by a letter which I have just received
that I must go on business to Eitzatlan,
and it would not he agreeable to either
of you to accompany me there.”
“Of course not. pa]ia,” said Dona Za
rifa, who was standing by her horse's
head, feeding him with sugar, which the
beautiful, intflligejjt creature took
daintily from her hand. “And it is
really ns well—at least, so far as i am
concerned—that the ride is deferred,’
she went on “When I went to the hoe
pital tins morning I found Poor Bonita
wandering in mind, am) my presence
seemed to soothe Her So I wall go hack
at once. Adios, my beanty”—she patted
the horse’s arching neck—“are you sorry
that you will Dot have to carry me this
morning?”
“1 am sure that he is. if I may be al
lowed to interpret his sentiments by my
own,” Said Derwent. “And you are go
ing to the hospital, senorita? 1 can say
nothing against such a charitable inten
tion; but before yon spoke—so quick is
thought—I was about to propose a visit
to the Canada. Ever since you said that
you would like a picture of it, 1 have
been anxious to try what my efforts can
accomplish in the way of a sketch.”
“But 1 thought yon disclaimed any
artistic skill?" she said, with some stir
prise.
"I said that 1 was not an artist. That
is true. But I have a little facility in
sketch! :ig from nature, though not much
training 1 cannot promise you a finish
ed picture, but I irtay make a passable
drawing of the ravine. ”
.“1 shall be delighted.” she said. “I
hope that yon will try And snrely my
absence cannot matter. You do not
need assistance in yonr drawing?”
“Oh. yes.” said Derwent, though he
had the grace to blnsh, “I need yonr as
sistance to detenuine the best point of
view—that is. the one you would prefer
But I will take my materials ami follow
my own judgment. Then, when you
have finished yonr charitable ministra
tions, you will perhaps come and tell me
if yoa like my.choice.”
“Yes. I will come,” she said, smiling
And then, without waiting to change
her dress, she walked away toward the
village on the other side of the gardens
Derwent stood and watched her as
long as she was in sight. The close
fitting habit showed every line of her
statuesque figure and the perfect grace
with which she moved, as she passed
down one of the shady avenges, her
favorite companion, a beautiful grey
honnd. walking beside her and looking
as thoroughbred as herself. All aronnd
stretched the grounds, dappled with sun
shine and shadow, while the long vista
of the tree arched avenne held only ihe
one moving figure, as a perfect picture,
in the heart of the green loveliness.
Derwent gave a deep sigh. “If 1 could
only paint that!” be said half aloud, and
then tamed with some confusion, to
And Hadre Francisco beside him.
“What is that yoa would like to
paint?” asked the priest. “This view of
the gardens? Yes, It is very charming
But is not that Dona Zarifa that 1 see
walking away, yonder? Bow is it that
yonr usnal ride Is not to be taken?”
Derwent explained, adding, “So Dons
Zarifa has gone to the hospital to see
some poor woman who is wandering in
her mind”
“Benita. Yes; she will die, I fear.*
“And 1 am going to try and sketch the
Canada Will yon come, padre mio, and
see my failure?”
"1 will come for a little while and see
yonr sneoess.” the pail re answered, “for
I do not think that yon are likely to at
tempt anything in which you would
fail.*
“I should not wish to attempt what 1
knew to be beyond my powers, certain
ly. But a man cannot always tell be
forehand whether be will succeed in an
effort, even when he thinks he may.
“If he has ganged his powers correctly
he can generally tell, at least, in some
degree. Yor>, Sen or Derwent, know
pretty accurately, 1 think, what yon can
da’
“I wish 1 cHdl" said Derwent devoutly
“But 1 am, like other men, misled by van
tty; I sometimes essay tasks beyond my
strength and fail. I shall probably fail
in making this sketch, hot I mean to try
Fortnnately I have sketching materials
with me, for 1 thought 1 would do some
thing of the kind in Mexico. This will
be my first attempt.”
A few minutes later, with a portfolio
nnder his arm and accompsnied by the
padre, be was on his way to the ravine,
where he bad spent many delightful
hours since the day when he was first away.
Introduced, to IE They tried
tlie sheet of paper on which he was sketch
ing was borne by a current of air over
the railing and Buttered unheeded into
the current lielow, as with a violent start
he looked up to see Dona Zarifa stand
ing on the path below, with a still smok
ing pistol iu her uplifted hand.
In an instant lie was by her side, for
instinct told him that the shot had not
been fired idly “For Hod's sake, what
is it?” he cried, gazing with astonishment
at the pale, set face, the sinning eyes and
the uplifted hand pointing*so steadily
without a tremor in the direction of the
pavilion.
“There is a man, an assassin, behind
yonder rock.” she answered, iu a clear,
vibrant tone, pointing to a low, long
bowlder that crowned the hill which rose
immediately in the rear of the pavilion.
“I saw him about to shoot you, and 1
fired just as he had his finger on the trig
ger. His aim swerved und befell. I think
I killed him.”
“1 will see,” said Derwent, turning
quickly; but she 8topi>ed him by a mo
tion and extended the pistol. “He may
he merely wounded,” she said. “Be
cautions.”
With no recollection of his weakness
he sprang forward and hastened up the
steep ascent. Eighteen or twenty yards
brought him to the bowlder, and there
on the ground behind it was the assassin
his rifle where it had fallen beside him
At the first glance Derwent thought he
was dead, butou examination discovered
that, though inseusihle, he was still
breathing. Throwing open his loose
white upiier garment, the young man
saw that the pistol ball had entered his
chest some little distance below the
heart. A stream of dark blood was
flowing from it, and Derwent's first act
was to place his thumb on the bullet
hole. The next moment he heard a step,
and turning his head saw Zarifa stand
ing beside him, looking Uosm at the
man’s face with an expression of in
tense pain. But ehe asked iu a hushed
tone:
“Is he dead?”
“No; and I am not sure that the
wound need he fatal if we can get
speedy help. Can you go for it?”
“Yes, certainly," she answered, start
ing away impetuously. But before she
had gone three steps she turned again,
and picking up the man’s weapon car
ried it a short distance away. “Have
yon the pistol in your ban l?" she said
“Be on your guard; some of these pe»
pie are very treacherous. I will soon
bring assistance and Hadre Francisco
I left him at the hospital.”
When she was gone, Derwent for the
first time looked closely at the man’s
face, it was dark, with finely cut fea
tares and a tangled mass of black hair,
but not even the closed eyes and relaxed
muscles could soften its fierce and sinis
ter expression A desjierado in appear
ance as well as in deed, he looked thor
oughly capable of the dastardly act in
which vengeance had overtaken iiim
and Derwent felt with a sense of stand
denng horror, such as he had never be
fore even imagined, that but for the
strangely fortunate chance—or was u
the mercy of heaven?—that had brought
Dona Zarifa upon the scene at the crit
ical moment, he himself would now be
lying with his life blood welling out and
his eyes closed forever to the things of
earth.
The man must be indeed insensible
who, having as It were, felt the very
breath of death upon his cheek, is not
thrilled by the touch of that greet and ter
rible mystery. Nor was the thrill les
sened by thinking of the hand that saved
him, the gentlewoman's hand that had
never liefore taken even the life of a
bird, but that had not faltered in strik
ing the murderer down. What a fire ol
fierce indignation had been in the dark
eyes when he met them tirstl It was
like the deadly flash of a sword from its
sheath. He found himself recalling it
with snch a sense of conflicting emotion
that it was well for him that the sonnd
of qnickly approaching steps tore his
mind from the subject. Padre Francisco
had been met by Dona Zarifa before she
had gone far, and he harried on at once
to join Derwent, while she proceeded
quickly to the hospital and, in less time
than they dared hope, several men bear
Ing a litter made their appearance.
With the practiced skill of one acens
tomed to such work, the padre bandaged
the wound, and the man was placed on
the litter jnst as Zarifa once more ap
peared.
"The doctor will be at the hospital by
the time yon get there," she said. “Do
yon think, padre mio, that”
“He will live'?" the priest said, con
clnding her faltering sentence. “1 can
not tell. He is still insensible, but I be
lieve he will recover consciousness soon
and I shall stay beside him. Ho home
now, my child. This has been a great
shock to yoa. Ho."
Bnt Dona Zarifa shook her head,
and Derwent saw by her pallor and the
expression of her face how mnch she
was suffering. “I will go to the hospi
tal," she sail! “1 can reuder assistance
there"
“None," said the padre gently, bnt
firmly. “Yon must go to the casa
If Don Manrizio has retnmed send him
to us, but yon can do nothing. Take
Senor Derwent with yon."
“No," said Derwent, “my place is eer
tainly here to help yon with your bur
den. But Dona Zarifa must go. It is
too painful a sight for her."
“Nothing is too painful when one can
do anything to help,” site said. “But it
there la nothing”
She cast one more glance at the man
OB the Utter, ahnddered and turned
Derwent followed her with his
| with hi* heart, bat an intuition
up!
Nothing better could have happened—if
only the scoundrel can be kept alive un
til be confesses. ’’
“1 am afraid,” said Derwent, “that
will be difficult. He looks to me as if
he were sinking fast."
They had just left the hospital, where
the subject of their conversation was
lying in a state of apparent insensibility,
with the doctor on cue side of his bed
and Padre Francisco on the other.
“1 do not think he is so near death as
you imagine,” Don Manrizio answered.
“These Indians have wonderful powers
of vitality. He will rally sufficiently to
speak, and that is all leant _ | have
told the doctor to spare no effort to keep
hin^alive and give him strength to do
this. Our best hope, however, is from
the influence of Padre Francisco. He
will bring him to contrition and con
fession. ”
"Do you believe it possible?'’
“Yes; I have seen it too often not to
believe it possible. Men like this are
different from yonr criminals, inasmuch
os they are not able to rid themselves of
the saving principle of faith. Like the
devils, they believe and tremble. The
justice of Hod is a very real thing to
them—the comfortable delusion that
there is no snch justice not having yet
reached them; und when death comes
their overmastering desire is to make
their peace with Hod as far ns possible.”
“I hope, for Dona Zarifa’s sake, that
this man may not die," said Derwent,
after a short pause. “Does the doctor
think there is any hope for him?”
“Not the least. The bullet is iu his
lung. It was a good shot—no man could
have made a better Why should she
regret it? If she had not shot him you
would be dead, and there cannot be
much donbt of the relative value of the
t wo lives. And it will save him tronbU
if he dies now—aftei having spoken—
for if he were to recover it would only
be to Is: marched out and shot as a high
way robber Such crimes are dealt with
summarily here.”
Derwent could not but smila “in
that case it will be better for him to die
comfortably iu yonr hospital, with Padre
Franciscos gentle miuistratious,” he
said. "But I am grieved beyond meas
ure that Dona Zarifa shonld have been
forced to an act so painful to herself in
order to save my life. It almost makes
me regret that 1 ever came to Mira
flores."
"Nonsense!” said Don Manrizio. good
naturedly. “If she feels any pain on
the subject—which 1 cannot believe—it
shows n morbid spirit that I would not
have suspected in her. 1 am proud, my
seif, that stie rose to the occasion so well
She shonld be grateful to have had the
opportunity not only to save yonr life
but also to clear Senor Barrira <1 i jry
dark suspicion: as I am sure this man’s
confession will clear him."
“I hope it will," said Derwent; “but
to take huinaq life—that is hard even
for a man!”
“To take human life—the life of a
cowardly assassin—when it is to save
the life of an nnconscions man at whose
back he has leveled his gun!" cried Don
Mannzo with impatience, not un
mingled with scorn “I should feel no
more regret for that necessity than for
shooting a tiger in a jungle. Neither
would you. Neither, 1 am certain, does
Zarifa. The marvelously fortunate
thing is that she came upon the ground
just at that moment when her presence
was needed.”
“Yes,” said Derwent; “if she had
been a minute later I should uot be
walking here with you now.”
He looked around, as if with a sudden
sense of bow near the peril had been,
and how narrow the chance that be
would ever look again upon the beauty
of earth. Never hail that beanty seemed
to touch him more keeuly than iu con
nection with this thought The long
shadows of late afternoon were now
stretching across the grounds through
which he had watched Dona Zarifa walk
ing in the morning, nnconscions, as most
of us are when the dark wing of Azrael
most nearly overshadows us, that be
might be looking his last upon that
gracious form; the wide plain stretched
into magical blueness afar to meet the
luminous sky, the distant pnrple heights
had a more mystic charm than ever in
his eyes, and the fresh, deliciona air
seemed franght with blessing He had
a feeling as if a new life were given to
him—a life divided from that of yester
day by the gulf of a great danger, and a
life which was the gift (after Hod) of
Zarifa. "It is owing to her that I am
here!” he thought, after a rush of emo
tion, a sense that existence had become
something dearer and more precious for
that fact. “She will tell me that she
would have doue the same for any one,
and 1 know that she would have done it
for the poorest peon In Mexico. No mat
ter. It was for me that she did do it
Nothing can alter that,"
Almost oppressed with these thonghts.
and also with the passionate desire to
express them (in a modified form), he
sought Dona Zarifa when he entered the
bonse, bat songht her in vain. He had
by this time learned moet of her haunts,
but in none of them wan she to be found.
No one had seen her for boars—not
since, after having done everything
that it was in her power to do for the
wounded man, she had returned to the
house and gone to her own apartments.
She was not there, however, when Der
went, waylaying her maid, asked for
her. “No, the senorita has gone oat,”
Marcella made him understand. “I saw
her pass across the court a abort time
„ n
It will not say mnch for DerwesR’s de
votional inst\pcts that it wan only whim
the beautiful chapel for the luos; august
of all acts of worship—when he saw all
day long men. women and children pass
ing through its open doors, seizing a few
moments from their toil to offer a peti
tion, to leave a thanksgiving, or simply
to rest soul and body as in the shelter of
a father’s bouse—the beanty of it struck
him more than words can express. The
lovely church, with its never dying altar
flame and its atmosphere of infinite calm,
seemed like the heart of all the busy life
around—a heart ever turned to Hod, yet
also open ever to man. aud full of holy
thoughts and words at a censer it of
fragrance.
Thither, then, he took bis waj’. at the
snn of the day which might hare been
his last on earth was slowly sinking be
hind the western mountains Cruising
the quiet, cloisterlike court which led to
the church, be entered by the side>ioor
and found himself iu the soft, mellow
gloom, with which he was by this time
familiar. As usual, two or three figures
were kneeling here and there over the
nave; but it was uot until he had been
in the church for several miuntes that
he identified one of them as Zarifa. She
was kneeling on a prie-dieu just before
the altar, her bowed head covered aud
her form partially concealed by the
black drapery thrown around her She
seemed absorbed in prayer, and Der
went watched her for some time before
ihe made the faintest movement It
was not until the dusk had deepened
and the only light in the charch was
that of the flickering, golden radiance
from the taliernacle lamps that she
lifted her head aud rising glided across
the nave toward the door by which he
had entered He followed her at onca
and, when sne paused for a moment un
derthe pointed archway outside, reached
her and sphke
‘Senor Derwent!” she exclaimed with
a start. “I did uot kuow that you were
Here."
“Could 1 be in a better place?” he
asked, la a voice ths'. trembled a little
from emotion ‘1 tame here to thank
Hod for my escape frou. sadden and
violent death And, bu ring thanked
Hod. senorita. will you now let me thank
yon? Thank yon! Ah. what a word
that is to express snch a debt! If 1 could
only utter what I feel—if there were
only words in which 1 might venture to
alter it!”
She lifted one hand with a slight, si
lencing gesture as she turned her face
toward him There was still light
enough from the blue sky overarching
the court to show him that it looked like
a pule, beautiful cameo in the setting of
the soft, black drapery of China crape
which surrounded it Yot. beautiful as
it looked. Derwent was almost shocked
to see what a change the last few hours
iiad wrought. It was not only the pal
lor of the skin aud the pnrple shadows
under the eyes—those shadows which
come so qnickly iu a sensitive organiza
tion from illness or mental pain—but
the very features looked chiseled and at
tenuated. as if by suffering.
“Do not thank me, senor," she said,
with grave gentleness. “Thank Hod if
yon will, ami as you trnly should, that 1
was there in time. But how could I
have helped doing what 1 did? It wu«
no merit on my part 1 saw and I fired
The two things were simultaneous.
There was not an instant to be lost 1
stepped down upon that path—ah. how
lightly, bow unconsciously!—and some
instinct caused me to glance np at the
hillside. The rest was like a flash of
lightning I saw the sunshine reflected
on the barrel of that gun, 1 saw the man
leaning over the rook aud taking aim at
yon so intently that be did not perceive
me. To see was to act 1 had still in
the pocket of my habit the little pistol
we used yesterday, and do yon think it
was an accident that 1 had not taken off
that habit? 1 felt one thrill of passionate
indignation as I saw you sitting so
quietly, so unsuspiciously and that cow
ard drawing his gnn upon yon behind
yonr back on the very soil of Miraflores!’
be saw the flash that came into her
eyes at the recollection. "1 fired, and I
was glad to see him drop. Yes, I could
not have believed it if I had been told of
it beforehand, bnt 1 was gladl The hor
ror of what I had been forced to do did
not come over me anti) I saw the poor
creature bleeding to death. Then—oh,
then it was awfull 1 do not think 1
can ever forget the sightr
As she lifted one hand, with an invol
antary gesture, to her eyes, as if to shut
out the memory, he took the other and
kissed it—the hand that had saved his
life—so gently and so reverently that it
was like offering homage.
“What can 1 say?" he exclaimed. “To
spare you such pain 1 would have done
anything. Would to Hod I had never
come to Miraflores. since my coming
waa to ooet yoa what yoa have suffered
today I"
She withdrew her hand and looked at
him with a very sweet and pathetic re
gard. “Yon must not think that,” ehe
said. “I should be very sorry if you be
lieved that 1 regretted it How could
that be poesible? It was a great privi
lege to be allowed to interpose to save
the innocent from the guilty. But that
1 am a little unnerved is snrely natural
The peril waa so awfully near In an
other instant it would hare been yon
who lay bleeding, dying, before me.
The piteous sight of the other helps me
to realize tfiat And then, while 1 thank
Hod that it was spared, the picture of
the poor wretch yonder in the hospital
comes before me, and I shudder at the
thought that he is suffering, that he will
die from a wound inflicted by my hand. ”
He saw that she was indeed thorongh
ly unnerved. Something in the tragedy
had certainly stirred her nature to its
depths. The fire that he hail suspected
was there; he had seen it blazing in her
eyes as she stood with the uplifted
weapon that had struck the destroyer
down, bat how soon it was qnenched by
gentlest pity and dirinlst compassion!
His heart melted within him in the stress
of his love and sympathy. Yet what
conld he say or do? Never had he felt
more keenly how wide were the barriers
between them than as they stood alone
together id the eoft twilight and the
cloistral qnlet
“I feel for yon more than I can or
data express," he said. “I understand
What a shook it U to have had snch a
necessity laid upon yon, and to have
seen the resnlt with yonr own eyes. It
is vain to repeat that 1 would have done
anything—anything whatever—to spare
yoa. Bnt we were both powerlees; it
was the work of fate"
"No," the interposed, 'it was the
mercy of Hod that sent dm there and
placed the dnty before me. That being
so, what reason have 1 for regret? None,
believe me, none, if I shadder at the
memory of what i h-wv seen, i am never
theless very grateful -grateful beyond
measure—to have been allowed to save
year life*
Be longed to take and Urn her head
always be glad to dwell Life given to
me through your hands seems to have a
greater value than ever before, aa a gift
is cherished according to our feeling for
the giver. Hod knows. 1 would gladly
give this life to you. if you had any use
for it. even the least There is no serv
ice l could render you that 1 would uot
perform at any coat 1 know this as I
know that I exist, yet bow idle the
words must sound to you! For your life
is so full to overflowing of every go<-l
gift of fortune—nay. let me say, every
good gift of Hod, for fortnue is blind,
but Hod, seeing how worthy you are of
these things, has given them to you in
snch abuudaut measure that there is uo
room for anything that I can do. it
teems hard to owe so much and to be
able to give uotbing. yet there is a
sweetness even iu that, if oue cannot
give, the next best thing is to take
from—from one so gentle, so noble, so
worthy of a man’s best homage as your
self.”
He had no idea how his voice was be
traying him iu tlie treacherous twilight
that threw its soft veil of si adow into
the pillared archway where they stood
At the last sentence he stopped himself
abruptly and substituted other words
for the passionate ones that trembled
npon his tongue, bnt, as his voice fell
there was a minute's silence that seemed
•till to vibrate with the deep thrill of
feeling in his tones
Zarifa. standing motionless in "er
dinging black draperies, with bei stalue
like face and her eyes of soft gloom, had
asked herself at one moment what she
ihonld do But it was only for a mis
meat She had felt the next instant
how entirely nnconscions was bis be
trayal and the strong self restraint
which was evident in his last words
touched her deeply She had to pause
for a moment to imitate that self re
straint before she could answer Then
•he said, with something wistful in the
•weet music of her tones:
“Yon are a little wrong No life can
be so prosperous, so well filled with the
good gifts of Hod. that there is uot
room in it for the kindness of a friend
I have been able to save yonr life. That
is true. Bnt it was au accident. Some
lay yon may be able to do for me what
will outweigh it as mnch as an act of
deliberate intention outweighs au act of
impulse. And if not—if the opportunity
is not given to you, for one does not
make these things for one’s self—1 shall
know at least that you have the will to
lerve me. and that is enough.”
“Surely.” he said, moved almost be
yond bis power of self control, yet qmet-
sd, too, by those exqnisitely gentle
words, "yon must know it. I feel that
my life belongs to yon; yon may never
have any use for it—that is most likely
—bnt nevertheless at any time yon sum
inoned me, thongh it were from the end
of the world, to do your bidding, be
lieve me, I shonld come.”
“I do believe it,” she said, thrilled by
the passion of his tone. "But let ns say
no more of this. All is understood, it
not expressed. 1. too, have thanked Hod
for yonr safety And now I must go
and find bow it is with that poor creature
in the hospital.”
He could not niter another word, bnt
he walked by ber side across the coart in
the lovely twilight stillness, and at the
entrance they met Padre Francisco. He
panned at sight of them, and Zarifa
looked into his pale, moved face with a
startled entreaty in ber eyes
“He has made his confession.” said the
priest, “and he lias promised to repeat
the part relating to his attempts on Senor
Derwent’s life to the proper officials
They are taking his testimony now, and
it exonerates Senor Barrera entirely
Bnt be is sinking fast.”
“Ah, my Hod!" said Zarifa. patting
her hand to her heart
Padre Francisco extended a gentle
hand and laid iton her arm. “My child,”
be said gravely, “stop and think what a
good thing such au end as this is for
him What is the natural life when it
is spent in forgetfulness of Hod and
stained so deeply with crime that a vio
lent death at any moment might send
the soul into perdition? When snch a
life as that ends, by the mercy of Hod.
with contrition, with penitence and
with reparation is it not something for
which to be devoutly rejoiced? Try to
look at things by the higher light—the
light of Hod’s eternal pnrposes. Your
promptness and your courage saved a
life. You are grateful for that. I know
But, believe me—and I speak who have
seen the depths of this |ioor soul—you
should be far more grateful that your
bullet has saved a soul Never might
such a grace have come to him other
wise—the grace that sends him forth to
the bar of eternal jostice contrite, ab
solved and fortified by the sacraments.
Dome with me now. 1 am going to the
Bhurcb for the holy eucharist
[TO BI CONTCtUSD.l
to snit that of the cask to be made, and
< these lengths are boiled fur about three
j hours iu a closed vessel, which renders
the wood soft, a current of electricity
being also passed through the water dur
ing the boiling process. The log is
taken from the boiler to the cutting ma
chine, in which it is fixed as iu a lathe
and brought up against a long, broad
cutting blade; the log is revolved, the
knife automatically approaches it and
the sheet of wood passes out to the rear
of the machine through an opening in
the frame jnst at the edge of the blade,
as in a plane.
The sheet of wood is drawn from the
machine on to a table, where it is cut
into lengths suitable for the diameter of
the barrel. The lengths are takeu to a
grooving machine and grooved near the
edges for receiving the head and bottom
of the cask. Tlie wood is now put into
another machine, which cuts long, nar
row V pieces, or gussets, out of the
edges at intervals, which give the neces
sary double tajier to the cask. The
sheets of wood are finally formed up
into a cylinder and the first two hooi>s
driven on by the machine, there being
thus only one stave in the cask, and
consequently only one joint. Tlie sheets
of wood can receive any degree of thin
ness.—New Y’ork Sinn.
The Ilarvetit Time of the Sunflower.
Tlie harvest time of the sunflower can
scarcely be fixed, as it depends uot only
upon the climate, but also upon the na
ture of the soil and the exposure of the
plantation. In the south and southwest
of European Russia it ripens about the
middle of September, further north at
the end of September or beginning of
October. On sandy soil it ripens about
the middle of August, ou black earth
lauds at the end of August and on low
er gtounds still later. From this it may
be seen that the sunflower, wherever it
grows, ripens later than any other corn
plant, a very iuqiortaut fact in agricul
ture. as its harvesting does not interfere
with the harvesting of other crops.
When the sunflower is overriiie its yel
low flowers wither, the stalk and the
seed cup from the top become gray, all
the leaves of the flower covering the
seeds fall off and the seeds get hard,
shoot out from the seed cup and crack
open. At this time the plant should tie
well guarded from the birds or the over
ripe seeds will soon be destroyed by
them. —Cor. St. Louis Ulobe-Democrat.
A Kripht Lunatic.
A famous surgeon told me that he
went once to see a lunatic in a private
asylum, and that in passing through a
corridor he was thus accosted by one
of the patients, “Take off your hat, sir!”
“Why should I?" asked my friend. “Be
cause I am the son of tho emperor of the
French." "Oh. I beg yonr royal high
ness’ (lardon." apologized my triend, tak
ing his hat off. On revisiting the asy
lum a month or so later ho was again
accosted in the same corridor by the son
of the emperor of the French, and in the
same words, "Take off your hat, sir!"
Why?" again asked my friend. “Be
cause 1 am the son of the emperor of
Germany.” "Of the emperor of Ger
many? Snrely when last 1 had the hon
or to see your royal highness you were
the son of the emperor of the French.”
Ah, well—yes." he stammered. But
recovering at once from his embarrass
nient, he added brightly, "That was by
another mother.”—Exchange.
Ship. Wrecked in Fair Weather.
Very few persons know the number of
ship* that have never been heard from
after leaving port: In Great Britain
alone, in 1873-4, there were 80 vessels
missing; in 1874-5, 137, and in 1875-6,
101; between 1864 and 1869, of 10,588 re
ported lost the fates of 848 are unknown,
and even this list is less than more ac
curate information would show. A
careful investigation of causes of wreck
age shows many causes and unexpected
results. Among other general princi
pies that have been deduced is that over
one-half the wrecks occur when the
wind blows less than a fresh gale, or
when a ship, if properly found, manned
and navigated, could keep the sea with
safety. From 1864 to 1874, 229 vessels
were wrecked during calm weather; 360
in light airs; 1,010 in light breezes; 405
in gentle breezes, 1,689 in moderate
breezes, 2,131 in fresh breezes, 2,829 in
strong breezes, 819 in moderate gales,
1,020 in fresh gales, 4,320 in strong gales.
1,921 in whole gales, 373 in storms, 666
in hurricanes, 57 variable and 639 un
known.—Providence Journal
The Potato.
Humboldt says that at the time of the
discovery of America the potato was
cultivated in all the temperate parts of
South America from Chili up the coast
The Spaniards first noticed it in Peru.
The variety of potato cultivated in Eu
rope and North America grows wild in
Chill Different species of the plant are
found growing wild in moet parts of
South America, and, it is claimed by
many botanists, in Mexico and Arizona.
-New York Herjd.
Modest.
"I’m no pig; I don't want the earth,"
was the remark of a baldheaded, gray
whiskered man in a Broadway restau
rant a few days sgo ss ho sent hack a
potato bailed in its skin and part of the
soil in Which tt ftew.-Nsw York Re-
Jeruital<‘in.
The town does not accord with the
visitors’ idea of ancient Jerusalem—far
from it—but it is nevertheless a genuine
ly oriental city—and many of the streets
are pleasingly picturesqne. Must of all.
they rejoice to find the city ringing with
church bells, aud the Moslems for once
in the minority. Out of a population of
some 100.000 there are now aliont 38,000
Jews, the remaining 67,000 being about
equally divided between the Christians
and the Mohammedans.
No, our friends are not disappointed,
bnt yet, through all the three weeks of
their stay, they are haunted by a curi
ous feeling which refuses to be shaken
off, a sensation like that which we ex
perience in dreams when we seem to
visit some familiar and well loved place
and find everything strangely altered.—
Blackwood’s Magazine.
The Queen May Have No Gift*.
The deprivations of the qnoen’s life are
pathetically illustrated by an incident
which occurred not long ago. An Amer
ican lady sent her majesty an immense
collection of the floweis of this country,
pressed and mounted. The queen was
delighted with the collection and kept it
for three months, taming over the leaves
frequently with great delight. At the
end of that time, which was as long as
she was allowed by court etiquette to
keep it, she had it sent back with a let
ter saying that, being qneen of England,
she was not allowed to have any gifts
and that she parted from it with deep
regret.—Helen Watterson in Philadel
phia inquirer.
Tonnage of the Grent Lake*.
More than one-half of the vessels on
the great lakes are assigned to Chicago,
Port Huron, Detroit, Milwaukee, Urand
Haven, Cleveland and Buffalo.
The number of Canadian vessels on
the lakes is 647; tonnage, 132,971; valua
tion, |3,989,130. For further compari
son, it may be stated that the total of
coast and inland shipping registered in
Canada is 7,153 vessels, of 1,040.481 reg
ister tons, valued at (31,218,430.—C. C.
Rogers in Scribner’s.
Will Get Rich.
An inventive youth connected with a
Missouri hardware store is said to have
discovered a compound which, if applied
to tinware, brass, etc., of wares exposed
for sale, will keep the flies off the same
daring the KTuiiiner. He expects to make
• small fortune out of the discovery.—
PhiUdelphi i Leilger.
The Best is the Cheapest.
‘Domestic’’ Sewing Machine Im
proveiBents for 1891.
H ARTSVILLE RAILROAD.
In effect Jan, 31, 1892.
DAILY MIXED TRAIN
lieave Hartsville
5.55 a m
Jovauti
6.20 a in
Floyd's
7.10 a hi
Darlington
H.ta) a m
Palmetto
0.25 a iu
Arrive Florence
9.50 a m
Ireave Florence
2.00 p m
Palmetto
2.15 p m
Darlington
2.35 p m
Floyd’s
8.10 p m
Jovann
3.30 p m
Arrrive Hartsville
8.50 p m
J F. DIVINE,
Gen. Supt.
Two machines in one; elinin stitch;
lockstitch: “Domestic’’ loo|ter. Ask
the agent to show it to you. You
will see its great value at once.
Thk Woxpkr ok thk Agk! First
in the field with new ideas; high arm;
bent wood woik; convertible stiteli
sewing machine.
The “DOMESTIC” can be seen at
the store of McCall A Burch, oral the
residence of .1. H. McCall.
Mrs. J. G. M c all,
Ageut for Darlington County
oWoWoWoWoWoWoWoWoWoW
THE AMERICAN
RAMBLER
WHY
I* tho BEST WHKS
BECAUSE
In tht* BEST WHEEL ON THK MARKET thN year.
tho comblnatlou of
tho celebrated G. & J.
__ _ Famuli* Tiro ami
Spring Frame makes riding on it a luxury.
TRY IT AND BE CONVINCED.
Send for Illustrated
Catalogue
G0RMULLY
It JCFFERY
M’F’G CO.,
Washington, D. C.
TtWoWFWpWPWpWpWoWpWoW
April 38—8m.
Atiention Mechanics!
All persons in need of babbitt metal
can purchase it cheap at Tint Dak
li no ton Nkws office.
June 12, ’99—tf
C HARLESTON,
NORTH t'.UV
SUMTER AND
NORTHERN RAILROAD
CHARLES K. KIMBALL Receiver.
In Effect March 2, 1892
NORTH. SOUTH.
1
2
A. M.
A. M.
6.50
Charleston
10.20
8.00
Pregnall’s
9.00
10 13
Sumter
6.43
11.08
latmar
5.53
11.25
Syracuse
5.35
11.40
Darlington
5.20
11 56
Mont Clare
5 05
12.08
Robin's Neck 4.54
12.23
Maudeville
4.39
12 37
Beunettsvilie 4.25
P. M.
P. M.
Trains 1 and 2 have through cars
lictwecn Charleston and Fayetteville.
THKOUOH SHKDULK.
Leave Charleston (I.5()« m
Sumter 10.15
Darlington 11.40
Arrive Richmond 7.40
Washington 8.38
Baltimore 10.30
Philadelphia 12.35 pm
New York 3.20
All trains daily except Sunday.
J. H. AVERILL, General Manager.
( ”1*0. and C. & S. RAILROADS.
Jt In effect Jan. 31, 1908.
Leave Wadesboro
.. 5.00
A
IU
Bennett’s
. 5.17
a
m
Morven’s
a
IU
McFarland
a
1H
Cheraw
. 6.05
a
111
Cash’s
.. 6.17
a
m
Society Hill
.. 6.32
a
iu
Doves
... 6.50
a
IU
Floyd’s
. 6.58
a
m
Darlington
7.12
a
in
a
m
Arrive Florence
.... 7.37
a
m
Leave Florence
p
iu
Palmetto
... 9.13
p
m
Darlington
9.23
p
iu
. 9.33
p
IU
p
m
Society Hill
Cash’H
p
m
p
m
Cheraw
p
XU
McFarland
. 10.57
p
m
Morveu's
11.06
p
m
Bennett’s
p
IU
Arrive Wadesboro
.. 11.30
a
IU
Freight Train.
Leave Florence
... 6.40
a
IU
Arrive Darlington
. 7.55
a
IU
Leave Darlington
p
III
Arrive Florence
.. 7.25
p
IU
N 1
WHY IS THE
W. L. DOUGLAS
$3 SHOE CENTER
THE BEST SHOE IN THE WORLD FOR THE MONEY?
It is a ftuamlesfl shoe, with no tucks or wax thread j
to hurt the feet; made of ibe best fine calf, stvlisU
and easy, and because tee make more shoes of this |
grade than any other manufacturer, it equals hand* ;
sewed shoes coating from *4.00 to $3.00. A-.i^ntesTw.lx.wt,...
djf- OU Genuine llan<l-»ewe<l, the flno«tcalf | Arrive l,liarleHtOU
wJm ahoe ever offered for fS.Oii; French ,
imported Himes which cost from $8.00to $12.00.
CtVl GO II nnd-Hewcd Well Shoe, line calf,
stylish, comfortable ami durable. The best
shoe ever offered at tills price ; same grade
ORTH EASTERN RAILROAD.
In effect Jan. 31, 1892.
SOUTH HOUND.
No. 27.
Leave Florence 1.35 a m
Kingstree
Lanes 2.50 a m
Arrive Charleston 5.00 a in
No. 23.
Leave Florence 10.35 p in
Kingstree llAUpin
Lanes 12.15 a iu
Arrive Charleston 2.40 a in
No 58.
Leave Lanes
Leave Florence
Kingstree
I^mes
Arrive Charleston
Train on C. & 1). R. R.
tom-made shoes costing from $6.U0 to $0.u .
C O 50 Police Minos Farmers, Railroad Men
and Letter Carriers all wear them; fine calf,
•eamleaa, smooth Inside, heavy three soles, exten
sion edge. One pair will wear a year.
50 flue rn If i no better shoe ever offered at Florence With £10. 01 1 raili.
9mi» this prices ,l " ,, trial wlU convince those
who want a shoe for comfort and service.
CJO 25 nnd \\ o iking mu n*M shoee
are very strong nnd durable. Those who
have given them a trial will wear no other make.
RoVC* nud SI.75 school shoos are
O vijr O worn by the boys everywhere; they sell
on their merits, as the luercasing sales show.
■ irhC ^'i***** IIiiii<l-Me«vc«l shoe, best
kadi! I Vi 9 liongola, very stylish; equals Froucn
Imported shoes costing from $4.00 to $6.00.
Lndirn' 4.5U. *^.00 mill KI.75 shoe for
Misses are the beKt fine Uougoiu. Stylish and 0 urable.
Omtion.—See that W. L. Douglas’ name aud
price are stamped on the bottom of each shoe.
fW TAKE NO NI’BHTITrTE.^
Insist on local advertised dealers supplying you.
W. JL# DO COLAS, Brockton, 31 as*. Sold by
... 8.52 p m
... 10.80 p iu
No. 61.
..... 8.05 a m
.... 9.32 a ill
....10.00 a in
11.59 a m
connects at
NORTH BOUND.
No. 78.
Leave Charleston 1.20 am
Lanes 8.25 am
Kingstree 3 43 a m
Arrive Florence 4.45 a m
No. 14.
Leave Charleston
Lanes
Kingstree
Arrive Florence
For Sale by A. J. Broom,
Darlington S. C,
Cheap WrappingPaper.
Old newspapers, answering exceed
ingly well for the purpose of wrapping
paper, for sale at Thk Darlington
Nkws ofliee at 20 cents a hundred.
7.01 p m
8.38 p m
8.56 p m
9.55 p m
No. 52.
Leave Charleston 6.50 a in
Arrive Lanes 8.27 a n.
No. 60.
Leave Charleston 4.29 p m
Limes 0.35 p m
Kingstree 6.56 p m
Arrive Florence 8.15 p ill
No. 52 runs through to Columbia
via Central R. R. of S. C.
Nos. 78 and 14 run solid to Wilming
ton, N. C., making close connection
with W. &i W. K. K. for all points
North.
J. F. DIVINE, Gen. Supt.
vv
( SUGAR COATED)
Haydock’s New Liver Pills.
A wonderful and extraordinary combination of conoen*
tr.itod medicine. Tho Victoria* of Science—Llectrio
Tclographa, Steam and Printing—revolutionized the
whole gyntem of the globe, and made mankind wiaer and
hotter. So, although there are countless Pills used for
difloaee, and claiming much as to their merit, the re
markable discovery of Dr. Hay dock iuta eclipsed them
all, and has founded a
NEW MEDICAL SYSTEM.
The Doctors, whose vast dose» of four or five pills, en*
facble tiie stomach and paralyze the bowela. must give
way to the man who restores health and appetite with
one or two oi his extraordinary Vegetable Pills. On© or
two of DR.HAYIXK;K’SNKW LIVER PILLS .unices
to place the stomach in perfect order, creates an appe
tite, and renders the spirit light and buoyant. If the
Liver is affected its functions nro restored, and if the
Nervous System is onfe«i»l4#d, it is invigorated and sua-
I tainod. ______________
SYMPTOMS OF BILIOUSNESS.
1. The patient complains of a fullneaa of the stomach.
2. Distension of the bowels by wind.
8. Heartburn.
4. A feeling of weariness, sleepiness after meals,
fi. A bad tasto in the mouth, and furred tongue.
6. Constipation, with an occasional diarrhoea.
7. Headache in front of head.
& Depression of upirits and great lassitude.
All of the above symptoms go to show functional
derangement of the Liver: and now comes the great
Importance of any error made as to the condition of the
rr* . ,, > *-• -trovlde himself with a
nun«m form of which
7ILMINGTON, COLUMBIA &
AUGUSTA RALROAD.
Iu effect March 27, 1892.
SOUTH BOUND.
No. 23.
Leave Wilmington 6.25 p m
Marion - 9.34 p ut
Arrive Florence 10.15 p m
No. 50.
Leave Florence 3.20 a m
Sumter 4.35 a m
' Arrive Columbia 6.15 am
No. 27.
' Leave Wilmington 10.10 p m
Marion 12.40 a m
I Arrive Florence 1.20 a in
No. 52.
Leave Sumter 9.43 a m
Arrive Columbia 10.56 a m
No. 58.
Leave Florence 7.57 a m
Sumter 9 20 a m
! Aarrtve Columbia
No. 52 runs through from Charles-
* ton via Central Railroad; leaving
Lanes 8.32 a m, Manning 9 09 a in.
Train on C. aud D. Railroad con
nects at Florence with No. 58.
NORTH BOUND.
No. 51.
Leave Columbia 10.45 p m
Sumter 12.04 a m
Arrive Florence 1.15 a m
No. 78.
Leave Florence 5.00 a m
Marion... 5 46 a in
Arrive Wilmington 8.55 a in
No. 59.
Leave Columbia
Sumter 7.30 p m
! Arrive Florence..
! Leave Columbia
Arrive Sumter
Jienfc. Ho should immediately provide himself with a
[VRR STIMULANT, the morteoi BagMj * c
_ _ pat Daily experience shows that this, when the Pill
is compounded properly, ia the readiest mode of inciting
x «* -* • •
is a
l*oc_,—__
and promoting
e action of the Liver, and can be always
rolled on. 1 have devoted many years of my life in c
“ * Pill, that will act readily - - J
A Pointer on Stationery.
!
Buy your Books and Billet
Beaux Materials of THE DAR
LINGTON BOOK STORE.
Pen Pointers are his spe
cialty, and everything in
the line of Stationery and
Books can be supplied at rock
bottom prices.
dily and systematically
belii
tivos, and therefore have made a Pill, one v.
active ami thorough dose. I have called it
pounding..*...,.....-. « .
as a Bilious Remedy. I do mA believe in great purga-
tivee, and therefore have made a Pill, one of which ia an
Haydock’s New Liver PUL
They are the true grains and eseence of health, and the
gr atest blessing that Hcience haa given to the world.
For Nervous Prostration. Wenknefts (.enerai Lassi
tude, Want of Appetite and Sick Headache, Dr. Her
dock's New Liver Pilla will be found au Effectual
Remedy.
Each via! contains Twenty Pills.
Cents. For sale by all Druggist;.
a have a vial <
Price T wenty-five j
Any sceptic can have a viaf of Pills SENT RIM FREE
on receipt of his name and addreea, for a trial.
K.iict.jK.Ul osid tor ««II THKr.iy.
HR AND ITS MY.STKKV.'' It tumUto— nliubb la.
formation to ali,
A CO.,
NEW YORK, U. 8.
;iata are desired to notice that the
sole ngenU is written aoreesecoh
. 8.40 p m
No. 53.
6.00 p III
6.25 p ut
No. 14.
; Leave Florence 10.25 p m
Marion 11.02 p m
| Arrive Wilmington 1.50 a m.
No. 53 runs through to charleston
via central Railroad, arriving Mun-
' uing 8.04 p m. lames 8.45 p m,
charleston 10.30 a m.
No. 59 eonuects at Florence with c.
& D. train Irom cheraw and Wades-
boro.
I Nos. 78 and 14 make close connec
tion at Wilmington with W. & W.
1 Railroad for all points North.
HAYDOCK
cactio
.of J '
B ora. u. ti
pack.,—
r. counter!
April H—ly
Cl 1 -Drnggiw
11. Fr.itci., »
l«r— of H.jr
Suck’, Liter Pitta,
T.-ainr on Florence Railroad leave
Pee Dee daily except Sunday 8 35 a
m, arrive Rowland 11.40 a in. Return
ing leave Rowland 12 16 pm, arrive
Pee Dee 4.00 p m.
Trains ou Manchester & Augusta
Railroad leave Sumter daily except
Sunday 10.50 a m, arrive Rimini 11 59
a m. Returning leave Rimini 12.30p.
m, arrive Sumter 1.40 p- m.
J. F. mVGUS, Gon Supt;
5 c.;-,
mw-