Dr. Dumanys Wife | Page 9

relief train for succour.
Tell him to be quick, and when he returns I will give him two hundred
francs."
"Yes," said the man; "but who will take care of my goats meanwhile?"
"How many goats have you?"
"Six."
"And what is the average price of a goat?"
"Fifteen francs."

"Well, here is the price of your goats in cash. I give you one hundred
francs--ten more than your goats are worth. Now run! How far is it?"
"A good running distance, not very far." The man pocketed his money
and turned, when an idea struck him. "Could you not take care of my
goats anyhow, till I return?" he asked.
Smart fellow! He kept the money for his goats, and tried to keep the
goats into the bargain.
"All right," said the Englishman, "I will take care of them. Never fear.
Go!"
"But you must take my stick and my horn; the goats will get astray
when they do not hear the horn."
"Then give it to me, and I will blow it," said the Englishman, with
admirable patience, and, taking the shepherd's crook and horn, he gave
the man his red shawl to use as a signal-flag.
As the shepherd at length trotted on and disappeared, that unique,
long-legged example of phlegm and good sense sat down by the
shepherd's fire, on exactly the same spot where the shepherd had sat,
and began watching the goats.
I returned to the mournful scene which I had quitted when the
Englishman came up to me. It was a terrible one, and no marvel that
even the painter had closed his sketch-book to gaze upon it in silent
awe. The entire valley below showed like a giant furnace, or some
flaming ocean of hell. Huge fiery serpents came hissing and snarling up
to the barricade, and great flakes of fire were flying about everywhere,
scorching and kindling as they fell. The chill, keen, mountain air had
become heavy and warm in spite of the winter, and a loathsome,
penetrating odour arose and drove us away from the horrible place. No
one remained but the Polish Jew. He did not move away. He had risen
to his knees on the barricade wall, and his hands, with their
prayer-bands, were uplifted to heaven. Louder and louder he chanted
his hymns, raising his voice above the thundering roar of the crackling

fire, the rolling stones, and the last despairing cries of the doomed ones.
The fur on his cap, his forked beard and dangling locks were singed by
the falling cinders, and his skin scorched and blistered, yet still he
chanted on. But when at last he saw that his prayer was in vain, all at
once he sprang up, and seemed to strike at the flames with both palms;
then, spitting into the fire "pchi!" he fell down senseless.
By this time the heat was so oppressive that it was dangerous to stand
anywhere near the barricade, and even for the sake of saving a man's
life from such a horrid fate, it was impossible to venture among the
falling cinders and rolling stones. All that the few of us who had
escaped with sound limbs and bodies could do was to carry our less
fortunate, wounded or maimed fellow-travellers up into the little
watch-house.
This we did, and then came those seemingly endless minutes in which
we waited for the relief train. Once the Englishman blew the horn for
the goats, and we thought it was the whistling of the expected train.
How terribly that disappointment was felt! and what sinful, subtle, and
sophistical thoughts crowded into our heads, burdened our hearts, and
oppressed our spirits in those awful minutes!
What terrible thing had these poor victims done to deserve such fearful
punishment? What heinous crime had they committed to be sentenced
to death and destruction by such a painful, torturing process? Whose
sin was visited on the guileless heads of little infants and innocent
children who had perished in those flames? Could not they have been
spared? or that loving and beautiful young couple, just on the brink of
life and happiness, and now sent to eternity together by such a fearful
road, into the mouth of hell when they had thought themselves before
the open gate of Paradise? What had that unhappy mother done? or all
these old and young men and women, in full health and spirits,
enjoying life and happiness, surrounded by happy relatives, full of
happy plans and hopes? What had they done to deserve this fate, those
poor servants of the public convenience, the guards, the engineer, and
the other officials, who could have saved their own lives easily, and in
good time, if they had abandoned their fatal posts, and had not

preferred to die in doing their