East Saginaw courier. (East Saginaw, Mich.) 1859-18??, 1865-05-31
A STRUGGLE FOR LIFE.

"There is storm gathering yonde
over the Beacon Hill the air is heavy
with thunder. Surely, Richard, i
were better even now to let your jour
ney rest until to- morrow"
The tall, bronzed knight, standing
booted and spurred, with his hant
upon his horses name, turned to lool
with merry smile in the fair, anxious
face of tho lady by his side:
"And if the storm should come, dc
you think, my sweet wife, that Dicl
Courthope has never ridden through
wind and rain before, or that, for feal
Of wetting, could break my pledge
to meet Philip Orme this night in
Chester? No, no. Only lot me find
you watching for me here at noon to.
morrow, with those same pink cheeks
and bright eyes, and shall reck little
whether i ride in the sunshine OF
shower. So now, dear one, farewell,
and may God bless you" and spring
ing into the saddle, the good knight
waved last adieu, and trotted away
down the long avenue.
His young wife's blue eyes followed
his retreating figure with wistful
gaze, until he halted at the great iron
gates, and passing through, was hid
den from her view; then slowly turn
ing, she remounted the stone steps
that led to the door of Ashurst Manor
house. The gloomy red brick walls
seemed to frown upon her as she
entered, the stained glass window in
the hall threw purple tint upon her
face, and made it almost ghastly, and
the oak floor gave back hollow echo
to her tread. Just then, door at the
further end Of the hall was softly
opened, and Marston, the old butler,
advanced towards her. Old he was
in service, for ho had lived more than
thirty years at Ashurst Manor, at first
the page and play-iellow, then the
confidential servant and friend of his
master, Sir Richard; yet, not old in
years, for he was under fifty, his black
hair was still untouched with gray,
and there were few wrinkles in his
keen face. He stopped near Lady
Courthope, glanced quickly at her,
hesitated a moment, and then said in
a respectful but constrained tone:
Surely, my lady, Sir Richard will
not ride TO Chester on such day as
this?"
The lady looked up as though sur
prised at his addressing her.
YES" she said, he has just start
ed. He laughs at the weather, but
H
"There will be little cause to laugh
if the storm comes, if the river is
swollen" Marston exclaimed abruptly.
" Tcn will see him back yet, my lady,
ere night"
"Nay, he must needs be in Chester
this evening"" Lady Courthope made
answer, as, sitting sigh, she passes.
on to the drawing-room.
The butler looked after her.
"She would have us believe she
cares for him, forsooth. He believes
it. He has only eyes and thoughts
for her; old friends, old times are all
forgotten now. Once he would have
told me about this Chester journey,
but now that waxen doll hears all his
plans, and he hardly deigns to speak
Of them to me. But / have learned
all cared to know-Sir Richard must
be in Chester this night"
In the long, low drawing-room, the
twilight had already set in, though it
was but four o'clock on November
afternoon; the huge FIRE had burned
low, and the heap Of glowing fagots
shed weird light on the mirrors and
pictures on the walls, while the high
backed chairs and carved tables cast
strange, uncouth shadows all around,
as the lady made her way to the
window-seat, and gazed out
on the stormy sky. "He rides fast;
his horse is footed; the distance
is not great" she murmured to her
self. "Why is this dread of evil?"
She looked back into the darkening
room, and started as half-burned log
fell with crash upon the hearth. A
longing came over her to hear again
her husbands blithe voice, to see his
fond glance, to have him there beside
her and then her thoughts gradually
wandered away from the sombre old
mansion to an other, far away at
alive with gay, young
voices, smiling faces, and where her
voice, her face had only eight months
since been the gayest and the bright
est; for she had been q cherished
daughter Of that house until Sir
Richard Courthope wooed and won
her, and brought her here to be the
mistress Of his Cheshire home. Ten.
derly she recalled the young brothers
and sisters, the loving parents of her
happy maiden days, and wondered if
they yet missed her, and might per-
haps be speaking Of her even then;
till oil at once her fancy took another
turn, and she felt as though her fond
remembrances were treason TO her
absent husband, who was far dearer
to her than any of tina. merry party.
She would shake off this strange sad
ness which had crept upon her. With
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