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Show \ I 144 CHRISTINE. " Will you, my friend? Then he is yours, and you may take him away as soon as you please." "If I take him now, the woman will raise a storm," said the little man ; "I know a better way than that," and drawing Mr. St. Laurent aside, he communicated his plan, and they parted mutually satisfied. Mean w bile the sale went on, but we will not follow further its revolting det.,ils. Christine, with her baby and Matty, were pnt in safe quarters for the night. Notwithstanding the intense anxiety that filled their minds, and a. superstitious fear in Christine's heart that the worst had not yet come, an unaccountable drowsiness oppressed them, and before long both fell into a deep death·like sleep. Morning broke over the green earth. The sun gilded the mountain.tops, and bathing the trees in splendor, was greeted with ten thousand bird-songs. lie kissed the dewy flowers, and their fragrance rose as incense on the morning air. lie looked into the windows of happy homes, and wakened golr1on·l10ired children to renew their joyous sports, ~nd mothers, whose H_ souls were hushed with th(;:r weight of bliss Like flowcl'i surcharged with dew;' I .. . . .. ,,11>1' CliRISTINE. 145 sent up their morning thanksgiving to "Him who never slumbers," for His protection of their "laughing dimpled treasures." Suddenly a warm ray fell upon the face of the sleeping slave·mother. She wakened with a start, and with one wild shriek of agony sprang from the bed. ITer babe was gone. Why need we dwell upon what followed? What pen can describe the anguish of the heart·broken mother, when she knew that while under the influ· ence of opiates which she had unwittingly taken, her boy had been taken from her, and that she should look upon her darling's face no more. Mother I look at tbe dar1ing ncstler upon your own bosom, and ask yourself bow you would have felt in Christine's place. After the first burst of agony was over, she did not give way outwardly to grief. One might have thought she did not grieve. But she carried all her sorrows in her heart, till they had eaten out her life. On the morning of Eleanore St. Laurent's bridal day, Christine was sent for to perform some service for her young mistress. But the spoil had been taken out of the bands of the spoiler-the bruised heart was 7 |