CARLA EARLE
School had been dismissed, and the shadows had begun to lengthen in
the valley. Esther Bright sat in the doorway of the schoolhouse,
leaning against the jamb of the door, her hands resting idly in her
lap. At last she lifted a letter she held, and read over again the
closing words, "Thy devoted grandfather, David Bright."
She brushed her hand across her cheek more than once, as she sat
there, looking off, miles away, to her New England home. She heard a
step, and turning, saw Carla Earle approaching. Before she could rise,
Carla was at her side, half shy, uncertain of herself. Without the
usual preliminary of greeting, Carla said: "Are you homesick?"
She had seen Esther wipe tears from her cheeks.
"A little. I was thinking of my grandfather, and how I'd love to see
him. I am always homesick when his letters come. One came to-day."
"I am homesick, too," said Carla, "for my native land, its green turf,
its stately trees, the hedges, the cottages, the gardens, the flowers
and birds--and--everything!"
"Sit down, Carla. Let's talk. You are homesick for your native land,
and I am homesick for my grandfather."
She took one of the English girl's hands in hers, and they talked long
of England. At last Carla asked Esther to sing for her. For answer,
Esther rose, entered the schoolroom, and returned, bringing her
guitar. Then striking the chords of C Major, she sang softly, "Home,
Sweet Home." As she sang, Carla watched her through tears.
"An exile from home," the teacher sang; but at that moment she heard a
sob. She stopped singing.
"Go on, please," begged the English girl.
Again the cords vibrated to the touch of Esther's fingers, and she
sang the song that has comforted many a sorrowing heart.
"There were ninety and nine that safely lay
In the shelter of the fold;
But one was out on the hills away,
Far off from the gates of gold."
On she sang, her voice growing more pitifully tender.
"But none of the ransomed ever knew
How deep were the waters crossed;
Nor how dark the night that the Lord passed through,
Ere He found His sheep that was lost.
Out in the darkness He heard its cry,--
Sick and helpless and ready to die."
Then as she sang,
"And the angels echoed around the throne,
'Rejoice, for the Lord brings back His own!'"
her voice thrilled with triumphant hope.
Was she inspired, or was it simply that she was about her Master's
business? Her voice seemed a message from God to the stricken girl who
listened. Carla, looking into the face of Esther Bright, saw there a
smile that was ineffably sweet; saw, too, the golden light of the
setting sun playing about her face and form.
Song after song was sung from one heart to the other. The guitar was
laid aside. Then hand in hand, the two girls sat talking till the
sunset faded, talking through falling tears, talking of ideals of
life, and of how sweet and good life may be. Then Esther told of the
Blessed One of Galilee whose love and compassion never fail. And at
last Carla told her her whole sad story.
"But you will leave the saloon, Carla, won't you? You will throw off
Mr. Clifton's influence?" Esther said as they rose to go. "I can give
you shelter until I can find a home for you, only leave that dreadful
place."
"I can't; I love him," she answered. Then, covering her face with her
hands, she wept bitterly.
"You _can_ leave him, I know, and you will in time. Come often to see
me, as you have done to-day. Perhaps you and I together, with God's
help, can find a way."
They parted at the schoolhouse, Esther returning home, her heart
sorrowful. She thought of One who centuries before had sought the
mountains alone, the sorrow of a world upon His heart. She understood
it now, understood at least something of the agony of that sorrow. She
went to her room and prayed. When at last she rose from her knees, her
face looked drawn. The feeling as of a heavy weight upon her heart
increased. How helpless she seemed!
She opened her window wider, and looked up into the fathomless blue.
An overwhelming desire to save the tempted English girl had taken
possession of her. What should she do?
As she stood thus, she seemed conscious of a presence, and turned as
though expecting to see some one; but no one was there. She heard no
voice. Notwithstanding the evidence of her eyes, she could not shake
off the feeling of another presence than her own. She turned again
toward the window, and looked out into the crystal deeps. Then a
strange peace came upon her. It seemed a foretaste of heaven. She
threw herself on the lounge in her room, and fell into a refreshing
sleep.
But what of Carla Earle?
On leaving Esther, she walked slowly toward Keith's saloon. Suddenly,
she put her hand to her heart, staggered, and gave a sharp cry. Then
trembling in every limb, she turned abruptly, and walked rapidly
toward the canyon. She reached a place that seemed to have a
fascination for her. She looked at the dark pool and wrung her hands.
Her muscles gave way, and she sank on the bank, while great convulsive
sobs shook her frame. She tried to rise, but her limbs refused to obey
her will. Then it was that her agony of shame, and sorrow, and remorse
burst forth in pitiful cries to God to let her die. She removed her
hat and wrap, and crawled to the verge of the black pool. She
shuddered as she looked. Then a great horror-stricken cry came from
her white lips as she plunged into the seething waters.
There was the sound of a human voice in answer; and a moment later,
Patrick Murphy plunged after her, grasped and caught her floating
skirt, pulled her by it to shore, and lifted her up the bank. He began
to wring the water from her skirts.
"Lass, lass," he said, kindly, "what made yez do it? What's the matter
wid yez?"
Great sobs were his only answer. It seemed as though the girl must die
from the agony of her distress.
Then he lifted her in his arms, and carried her to where he had left
his horse. By the dim light, he had recognized Carla Earle, and he at
once concluded that Mark Clifton was responsible for her deed. His
first impulse, like all of his impulses, was a generous one. He
resolved to take her to his home, and become her protector. As he was
about to lift her to his horse's back, he discovered that she had
fainted. He succeeded in lifting her to the saddle, mounted behind
her, and rode directly to his home.
A few words sufficed to explain to his wife the rescue of the girl,
and the necessity of keeping her whereabouts a profound secret. Every
member of the family was enjoined to strict silence about the presence
of Carla Earle in their home.
Mrs. Murphy undressed Carla and put her in her own bed. The
helplessness of the unconscious girl appealed to her. After a time,
Carla's eyes opened. She looked startled, and began to rave, writhing
and twisting as one in mortal agony. Now she called on Mark Clifton to
keep his promise to her; now she asked Wathemah to go for Miss Bright;
now she begged God to take her; now she was on the brink of the pool,
and in the dark water.
So she raved, and the night passed. From time to time Mrs. Murphy laid
wet cloths on Carla's head, or moistened her lips. The two faithful
watchers did not close their eyes. The day dawned, and they were still
watching; but at last their patient slept.
When Carla finally wakened, she looked around, and seeing Mrs. Murphy,
asked where she was.
"With friends who are going to take good care of yer," answered her
nurse.
"How did I come here?"
Mrs. Murphy explained that her husband had found her unconscious, and
had brought her to his home. And, leaning down, she did an
unprecedented thing. She kissed Carla Earle. At this Carla began to
cry.
"Don't cry, lass, don't cry," said Patrick, who entered just then. He
turned away and blew his nose violently.
"I must get up and help you," said the sick girl, trying to rise. But
she did not rise that day nor for many days. Throughout her illness
that followed, Mrs. Murphy's kindness was unstinted. She waited on the
sick girl with unfailing patience. But Brigham was oftenest at her
bedside when home, telling her of his beloved teacher and what she
taught them. At last Carla begged to see her.
That very day Patrick drove down for Esther, telling her on their way
back to the ranch the particulars of his finding Carla Earle, and of
her subsequent illness.
"You dear, good people!" said Esther, deeply touched. "I feel so
grateful to you."
"Och! That's nothin', Miss," he responded awkwardly. "Whin Oi see the
girl so near desthruction, Oi sez ter mesilf, sez Oi, what if me
sisther or one of me little girrls wuz iver ter be in the clutches of
a Mark Clifton? So Oi sez ter mesilf, sez Oi, Oi'll jist save her.
That's all there wuz av it. My wife has taken care o' the lass. An'
she has grown that fond av her! Beats all!"
"God will bless you for saving her, you may be sure of that,"
responded Esther heartily. "She must have gone directly from me to the
canyon. I had urged her to leave Mr. Clifton and come to me, but she
did not seem to have decision enough to promise then. The canyon must
have been an after-thought, and the result of her despair."
"Poor creetur!" said Patrick, huskily.
When Carla saw Esther, she began to sob, and seemed greatly disturbed.
Her pulse grew more rapid. Such remorse one seldom sees.
Esther placed her own cool hand on the sick girl's forehead, and spoke
to her in low, soothing tones. Carla grasped her hand and held it
tightly.
"I have wanted to see you and tell you--" But Esther interrupted her.
"Yes, dear, you shall tell me by and by. Don't try to tell me now."
"I must. The distress here" (placing her hand over her heart) "will
never go until I tell you. After I left you at the schoolhouse, I was
filled with despair. I felt so utterly strengthless. Then I prayed.
Suddenly it came to me I must never again return to the saloon
or--him. I seemed to have strength given me to go on and on in the
opposite direction. All I remember now is that I resolved to make it
impossible to return. Then I awakened here. They have been so kind to
me, especially little Brigham. He comes in to see me as soon as he
returns from school, and talks to me about you, and it comforts me."
"God has been leading you, Carla," said Esther. "I am sure of that.
And He raised up this kind friend to save you in your dark hour. But
the dark hour is past now, and we are going to help you learn how to
grow happy."
"Can one learn how to grow happy who has made such a blunder of life?"
"Oh, yes. And it is a blessed lesson to learn."
When Esther left, she promised to return on the morrow.
That evening, there was a family council at Clayton Ranch, and the
result of it was that Mrs. Clayton herself soon went to see Carla,
and invited her to make her home with them.
So it came about that Carla Earle became one of the Clayton household;
and in the loving, helpful atmosphere of that home, she began to lift
up her lovely head, as does an early blossoming flower in the April
sunshine after it has been nipped by an untimely frost. And life, with
love enfolding her every hour of each happy day, began to grow worth
while to the English girl.
And Carla grew into the affection of the family, for she was a
refined, winsome creature. She became as a daughter to Mrs. Clayton.
One day Mrs. Clayton said to her husband:
"Do you notice how much Carla is growing like our Miss Bright?"
"Yes," he responded. "There is something very attractive about both.
Only Miss Bright is a remarkably well-poised woman, and Carla is
clinging and dependent. Poor Carla! How bitterly she has been wronged!
I am glad she has found love and shelter at last."
"So am I, John. Why, the poor child was just starved for love."
"I believe, Mary, that she will develop into a strong character. What
she has suffered has been a great lesson to her."
"Poor child! Sometimes when I speak appreciative words to her, she
breaks down, and says she doesn't deserve all our kindness. One day
when she cried, she said, 'Why does God take mothers away from their
children when they need them so?'"
"Well," he responded, "she has at last found a good mother. God bless
the mother and the unfortunate girl!"
And stooping, the husband kissed his wife, and started on a long
journey to a distant mine.