The weekly Anglo-African., 1860-04-07

Pale with Indignation, more than with
fear, Dorothea remained standing by the
| fire. She could hear the regular breathing
of her mother in the next room, and it
seemed to her she would feel better, if she
were only awake to bear her company
But Mrs Blake, poor soul, could have
been of but little aid, for she was rising of
seventy, and not over-strong, even whena
young woman.
"Now," said the stranger, when he had
finished hearty supper, "now, if you
please, Squire Thornycraft has gone away
for the winter, l hearW
eyes"
"And he has given your brother the care
of some money and papers, hasn't heT
| eyes"
"Where are they~
"At Markham, before this time, ont of
the reach of thieves"
"Softly, young woman" said the strang
er, provoked at her boldness. "All the
money isn't taken to Markham; that |
know. Now tell me where it is"
| Dorothea was silent.
"Where is the rest of the money! Will
you tell me-"
"No, / will not"
"Then see here" and getting up from
his seat, the man grasped his pistol and ap-
preached her. Bruno saw and seemed to
understand the movement, for he sprang
up, growing, and made one bound across
the floor; but before his teeth fastened
themselves in the villains flesh there was
the report of a pistol, and the faithful ami
NAL, with one howl of pain, fell dead at
his feet.
Dorothea shrieked aloud.
'Now I would do the same to you, and
promise will do it, unless you show me
where the money is concealed" said he,
kicking the dog from him.
Dorothea stood still, as if uncertain what
to do; at length, she said:
eff l must tell you or die, come with
me-"
She took the candle in her hand, and
opening door, led the way down stair
way to small cellar beneath the kitchen.
The robber followed close behind, his keen
eye glistening beneath his thick, overhang-
ing brows.
Dorothea paused in corner of the eel
lar, in front of an upright cupboard. twas
locked.
"Now, I've forgotten the key. 1t is in
the pocket of mothers Dress
Her companion eyed her steadily for g
moment, but not muscle of her face moved
under his scrutiny.
nc o up and got Il, tho and ] will 90
with YOU" he said. quietly.
every WE'LL" returned Dorothea, and
they retraced their steps,
Mrs. Blake still slept, notwithstanding
the noise made by the fatal shot and Doro.
thea's scream. The pocket of the dress
was searched, and the key found. She
handed it to the man, who was now evi
IDENTIFY satisfied of the honesty of her in
tentions. Again the brave girl led the
way down stairs, and stood while her COM
panion fitted the key into the lock; but
before he turned it she suddenly blew out
the candle, and with one spring gained the
stairs. In moment she was standing in
the kitchen, the cellar-door closed behind
her and bolted, while the man, cropping his
way through the darkness swearing most
frightful oaths, sought for the staircase in
vain. There was a heavy bar of oak
standing in the corner, and this Dorothea
raised and put in its place across the door;
and then, feeling at least for awhile secure
she went to see if poor Bruno was quite
dead. Tears of genuine grief fell from
her eyes upon his faithful head when she
found that it was indeed all over with him
but she had no time to waste in unavailing
sorrow, and now she felt her limbs tremb-
ling with excitement long controlled, and
fearing she was going to faint, she sprang
up for tumbler of water, when her eyes
fell ;,nen the pistols laying side by side
upon the table. Nothing could have been
better. In his haste to find the money, the
robber had forgotten to take them with
him. Now Dorothea felt quite secure, al
though the sound of his execrations as he
stamped with rage were terrible. Yet she
had the pistols, and would defend herself
and her mother with them, even if she
killed him. And so she sat down by the
long and dreary night. Dorothea felt as
if every hour was day; but dawn came
at last, and Mrs. Blake awoke. She
missed her daughter from her side, and
loudly called her name. Dorothea stepped
silently to the door, and in few words
told her story. Mrs. Blake was vexed
that Dorothea did 1ot awake her, and she
was incensed at the death of poor Bruno
SO much SO that she sprang up, forgetful of
her seventy years, and declared she would
open the celIar-door and shoot the villain
1t required all Dorothea's strength to quiet
her and persuade her to dress herself. Then
she mourned over the dogs stiffened body,
while Dorothea mended the fire and filed
the tea-kettle preparatory to breakfast
When it was ready, Mrs. Blake, for the
first time since she had awoke, looked di-
rectly at her daughters face. She started
with surprise, drew near, wiped her specta-
cles and put them on, then took another
look, and cried out:
"Why, Dorothea, your hair is as white as
snow p 49,,
1t was true; a nights terror had done
the work. The girl looked in the glass