The mountain Democrat., 1864-11-12

s1S;0 . i..o45 % taAiKY E3d4 Bog -iis its1doE;
and kiss him, and tell him that he was
the dearest and best Of men, and that she
was not worthyfof hin: | was great
friend Of his, and / gathered most Of this
from him at the time, poor fellow. l was
sitting In mv cottage one day, toward the
evening, thinking it would soon be time
to be going of on my beat, when young
TregTGvabur IN, with,S face II white a
a sheet, and scarcely able to stand
What is the matter, mar, said /, have
you seen a'ghOsti' but be staggered to q
chair, and fell, rather than sat, down on
it, holding bis face between his hands,
while the big sobs that burst from him
seemed to shake him from head to foot,
though not tear fell through bis fingers.
| stood by him for some little time, but
he seemed to grow worse instead of bet
ter. Come, Ralph, be . man; what is
all this about2 He turned on me like q
tiger. Leave me alone, curse you. Do
you, too, mock at mer and, with one
spring, he was past me, and out at the
door like madman. l followedin haste,
greatly alarmed, rs you may suppose, but
could see nothing of him. There was a
mist rising, and any one would have been
invisible at any moderate distance; and it
was with deep forebodings that | went
my rounds that night. When returned
to my cottage, noticed q small piece of
paper lying on the floor. 1t explained
all. 1t was letter from Hendon to Kate,
evidently written in hurry, and was all
crumpled up, as if it had been clenched
in the fingers No doubt it had been
dropped from Ralph's hand, though how
he got it / do not know. 1t left no room
for doubt He urged her to fly from the
village before her condition became known
and promised that he would provide for
her. Soon after, heard more. The
same evening Kate Polmarthen had dis
appeared. That morning her bedroom
lad been found empty, she was gone.-
What surprised others, though not me,
was, that her father made no search after
her-for be made none. He knew only
too we'll why she had gone. HendOn was
still in the village, in order, | suppose, to
di vert all attention from himself, as be
N-as rot aware that the note had been
found. k.lph and each keeping our own
connse, What need to publish the GER
taintv of her sh:mee We heard nothing
Of Ralph for three G'.sYs, when he returned
and went about his work just as usual,
but resenting fierceiy any C'en9on Ii tne
past. His manner, too, was Nn'e c.s"S
ed. Oh! so haggard and wild he iooHeu,
and with dogged kind Of sIllenne. IS !"
place of his former light. gaiety'
Even to me he never spoke now, anu one
or two attempts made to draw him out
into conversation we're met with such
bursts Of rage that was obliged to leave
him to himself And now | must come
to the most painful part Of my tale. You
see that the bay below is closed in at high
tide, and the sand gets quite covered. 1t
was high water about half-past eleven on
the September evening, when | was on
my beat, and bright night just like this.
l was walking along the top Of the clif,
Just where We are now, when thought |
heard voice down below. on the beach,
which was nearly under water. Surpris-
ed at this, looked over, and saw that
there was figure there, and that he was
running about, and shouting up. could
recognize the voice Of Hendon, and called
out-'Holloa, there" Help! help he
cried. | am cut Of By the tide. can't
swim. Send boat For Gods sake,
help me-! So it was. Sauntering along
he had, l suppose, waited there, and
faund himself cut of by the rising tide,
which would have been the case an hour
and half before was by him, so that he
must have waited at least that time, with
the water gradually rising higher and
higher. But what was to be dones True,
l had . rope, and instinetiyely ] had TAX
en- it out, but it was only short one,
about dozen yards long. l always car
ry a bit about with me. 1t often comes
in useful; but what good was it nowP |
could not descend the cliff, and if | left my
beat and went for assistance, be would be
drowned long before could return. Even
while hesitated, heard step behind
me, and Ralph Tregrava stood by my
side. 4 can 60 down that cliff. said he,
in the measured, dogged tone he had al
ways used since then, though there seem
ed to be an expression Of savage exulta-
tion in his tone that night that made me
shudder 4 will 60. Give me that rope.
Good God 7 I exclaimed, it is certain
deathr While spoke, however. he bad
snatched the rope out of my hands, let
himself over the cliff, and was going down,
hand. under.hand, clutching at every lit
tie bush and every tutt Of grass. My
head swan watching him. One slip, and
he would have fallen, literally Smashed
on the rocks below; but he seemed to
bear a charmed life, for still could see
him going down, further and further,
crawling like lizard, till he was only
some eight or nine feet from the bottom.
There be stopped There is fat ledge
of rock there, and he lay down on it. 1t
was a still night, and could hear him as
plainly as could you, sir. Mr.. Hen
don y he called out. 'Oh, thank God,
you have come at last!' l heard Mr.
Hendon answer. Here | am. How can
/ reach you2' 4 have q rope with me |;
if throw it you, can you get up herer
Yes, yes be quick, be quick. The tide
has risen up to my knees, and am half
dead with cold.' Just So was the
strange answer of Tregrava. Quick !
quick do not triAe with me; | shall
| drown You will not drown for half an
hour yet, Mr.. Hendon,' replied Tregrava,
with laugh. But such a laugh! 1t
sounded like the laughter Of Gend. 'Oh,
for mercy's sake. be quick Mercy 7
echoed Tregrava Such as you have
shown shall be shown to you. Where is
Kate PolmartheuH'. Il do not know. /
do not indeed. Quick the water is over
nv knees 'Liar!' returned Ralph, heed-
less of his agonizing eutreaties. / have
ventured my life to come here, Did you
think it was to save your No; it was to
secure my revenge. Never shall you
come up alive. Listen to me. When !
heard Of her flight, l was among the htst