Wanderings of French Ed

by J. Adelard René

A great part of the time the poor fellow spoke French. It was much as if the cruel winds of adversity had blown back the pages of his life already lived, and he was apparently living them over again.

He spoke of his mother, Marie Louise, Benjamin, Nellie, but seldom mentioned the name of Grace. During many weeks he remained delirious. His arm had got well enough to permit him to move it without pain, but the light of intelligence seemed to have left him forever. His face was emaciated, and his eyes had lost their old-time brightness. A strange phenomenon was gradually changing the color of his hair from brown to white, especially on one side, where he had struck the ground when his mare stumbled, and his appearance was that of a man at least ten years older than he was. During all this time many letters bad been received at his address, but when handed to him, he never displayed the least interest, or tried to read them.

One day, Mr. Goodnow came back to the house with his friend, the old actor, who had taken so much interest in Edward, and it was really pitiful to witness the sorrowful expression on the actor's face as he held the hand of Edward, who failed to show any sign of recognition. When later, his old friend Ben came, it was the same thing, and the Russian cried like a child; but Edward showed no sign of any emotion, and his case was considered entirely hopeless.

He got well enough to roam around, but he never was allowed to go alone, and Grace was his most constant companion. She led him to the most beautiful places on the ranch, and once, while sitting in the shade near a flowing brook, where she read to him, she felt sure that he had given sign of returning intelligence when he had said, with a pleased smile, "Beautiful," but alas, it was only a flash, and his condition remained the same.

A few days later, during the quiet of the night, the horrible word "fire" was heard in the Goodnow's house, and the next instant the flames were coming through some of the windows. It seemed evident that everybody in the house was doomed to destruction, and when a great crash was heard, Goodnow leaped from a second-story window, where he expected his wife to follow; but the poor woman, thinking of the danger of her daughter, walked to the other part of the house, reaching the girl's room in time to see her escaping through the window. Then, already suffocating, she only had strength to reach the same window, but not enough to raise herself and leap over it, and the next instant the flames had enveloped her and she died a victim of her motherly love.

Grace, crazed by her anxiety for her parents, was running around and calling her mother and father, and when she found her father alone she knew that her mother was dead, because the part of the house where she slept was already nothing but a burning mass.

Until then, no one had thought of Edward, as it seemed useless to think of saving anybody who might still be in the burning house, and when Grace cried out: "Edward! Edward! where is he?" As his room was on the ground floor she went near his window, and smashing it, called him by name, and God knows it was not too soon, as the fire, which had apparently neglected that part of the house, seemed to come to it with renewed energy, and a moment later the whole house was wrapped by the cruel flames. When some of the neighbors, attracted by the glare, came to offer assistance they saw the most pitiful spectacle possible.

Grace was crying and running around calling for her mother, while Goodnow stood by, sobbing like a child. At a little distance from the house, sitting near a large tree, was Edward, looking strangely at the burning house, as if fascinated by the sight; and now and then clapping his hands, he would say, "Good play, is it not, Ben? But why don't she come back and sing again?"

A most horrible crash was heard, and Goodnow's home was no more. It was now nothing but a burning pile of cinders and it was with great difficulty that friends could induce Goodnow and his daughter to come away from the terrible scene, while Edward himself seemed to want to linger. At last they all went to the nearest neighbor, two miles from Goodnow's place. Later, they tried to find something of the remains of Mrs. Goodnow, but so well bad the fire done its work, that not a trace of the unfortunate woman could be found, nor anything of the old actor, who had failed to save himself from the fire.

Goodnow, with the energy which is characteristic of the western ranchman, decided to rebuild at once, and while doing it, he sent his daughter to Flatville, the nearest city, where one of his brothers was living, and Edward to St. Mary's Hospital in the same city.