His Hearts Queen | Page 2

hat of fine brown straw, with a wreath of pink apple-blossoms partially
encircling it, and fastened on one side with a pretty bow of glossy satin
ribbon, also of brown. A dainty pair of bronze boots incased her small
feet, and her hands were faultlessly gloved in long suede gauntlets. A
small, brown velvet bag, with silver clasps, hung at her side, and in her
lap lay an elegant music-roll of Russian leather.
Everything about her indicated that she was the petted child of fortune
and luxury. Her beautiful eyes were like limpid pools of water
reflecting the azure sky; her lips were wreathed with smiles; there was
not a shadow of care upon her delicate, clear-cut face.

Directly opposite her sat a young man whose appearance indicated that
his circumstances were just the reverse, although no one could ever
look into his noble face without feeling impelled to take a second
glance at him.
He was tall and stalwart of form, broad-shouldered, full-chested,
straight of limb, with a massive head set with a proud poise above a
well-shaped neck. He looked the personification of manly beauty,
strength, and health.
His face was one that, once seen, could never be forgotten. It was grave
and sweet, yet having a certain resolute expression about the mouth
which might have marred its expression somewhat had it not been for
the mirthful gleam which now and then leaped into his clear,
dark-brown eyes, and which betrayed that, beneath the gravity and
dignity which a life of care and the burden of poverty had chiseled
upon his features and imparted to his bearing, there lurked a spirit of
quiet drollery and healthy humor.
His features were strong and regular; the brow full and shapely, the
nose aquiline, the mouth firm, the chin somewhat massive. It was a
powerful face--a good face; one to be trusted and relied on.
The young man was, perhaps, twenty-three or twenty-four years of age,
though at first his dignified bearing might lead one to imagine him to
be even older than that.
He was clad in a very common suit, which betrayed his poverty, while
at his feet, in a basket, lay a plane and saw, which indicated that he
belonged to the carpenters' guild.
The pretty girl opposite stole more than one curious and admiring look
at this poor young Apollo, only to encounter a similar, though wholly
respectful glance from his genial and expressive eyes, whereupon the
lovely color would come and go on her fair, round cheek, and her eyes
droop shyly beneath their white lids.
When the car left its station at the base of the plane and began to make

its ascent, not one among all its passengers had a thought of the terrible
experience awaiting them--of the tragedy following so closely in their
wake.
It had nearly reached the top; another minute, and it would have rolled
safely into the upper station and have been made fast at the terminus.
But, suddenly, something underneath seemed to let go; there was an
instant's pause, which sent a thrill of terror through every heart; then
there began a slow retrograde movement, which rapidly increased, until,
with a feeling of terror that is utterly indescribable the ill-fated people
in that doomed car realized that they were being hurried swiftly toward
a sure and frightful destruction.
Cries and shrieks and groans filled the place. There was a frantic rush
for the door, the doomed victims seeking to force their way out of the
car to leap recklessly from the flying vehicle, and trust thus to the faint
hope of saving their lives.
But both doors were securely fastened--they were all locked within
their prison; there was no hope of escape from it and the terrible crash
awaiting them.
When the beautiful girl whom we have described realized the hopeless
situation, she gave one cry of horror, then seemed to grow suddenly
and strangely calm, though a pallor like that of death settled over her
face, and a look of wild despair leaped into her eyes.
Involuntarily she glanced at the young man opposite her, and she found
his gaze riveted upon her with a look of intense yearning, which
betrayed that he had no thought for himself; that all his fear was for her;
that the idea of seeing her, in all her bright young beauty, dashed in
pieces, crushed and mangled, had overpowered all sense of his own
personal doom.
She seemed to read his thoughts, and, like one in a dream or nightmare,
she almost unconsciously stretched forth her hands to him with a
gesture which seemed to appeal to him to save her.

Instantly he arose to his feet, calm, strong, resolute.
His face was as pale as hers, but there was a gleam in his eyes