Orleans independent standard. [volume] (Irasburgh, Vt.) 1856-1871, 1867-09-19

Mr.. Atwater ?" 1Gj y .s.5a3Dls54.
But all at once our train slackened
its motion, moved more slowly still,
and came to a dead stand-still. |
knew we were an express that stopped
but twice before we reached our final
destination, and this lonely pine-bar-
ren was certainly neither of our stop
ping-places. Fl
"What is it, Carew?" | asked,
swinging myself on to the ground
where the conductor stood with his
lantern in hand looking under a car.
"Only a journal box heated. Con.
found that Warren! what made him
report 'all sound with such worn
box as that? These patent boxes
are continually getting hot in the
shortest runs, and aint fit for ex-
presses at all"
ave can cool it in fifteen minutes,
SIR" said one of the brakemen, who
had his tow and water all ready for
| packing 1t anew.
Fifteen minutes and we just
running on time with the Lightning to
catch us at b"
dts too bad to get in behind the
lightning train," | said.
Worse for me than Macleod, for
though Warren's too blame, catch
the curses. Well, Trueft, do the best
you can"
In spite of Trueft's sanguine
prophecy, it was full twenty-five min
utes before we were again under way.
| had gone back to Isabel Macleod,
whose dilated blue eyes were glancing
from one to another in the appre-
hensive agony of terror that no one
but a nervous woman can fully appre-
ciate.
"Frank-Mr. Atwater do tell me
what is the matter y
"Only hot box'-there is no oc-
casion for uneasiness."
"Upon your sacred honor"
upon my sacred honor. Why,
Isabel, how frightened you are l can
see you tremble, even here. What is
the matter, child ?"
"Sit down and will tell you," she
said, hurriedly, motioning me toward
vacant seat directly back Of her. Il
know it is a piece of mad folly-a-
a delusion; but | must tell somebody
or | shall 90 mad T.
sat down, leaning forward with
my elbows on the top of the seat she
occupied, so that my face nearly
touched her heavy black veil.
"FirSt promise never to tell hum
John"
~ promise.
"Well, them" she went on, speak
ing in a husky, nervous whisper, "he is
very particular-full of the strangest
fancies. When | first married him |
thought it was superstition, merely
now .
She paused.
"Well, now p" questioned.
"Now, | do not know what to think.
Oh, Mr.. Atwater, ought not to say
so, | know, but | am the most misera-
BILE creature in the world! y
"Isabelw
II am ! He threatens sometimes to
shut me up in mad house, and per-
haps | should be happier there than
subject to his whims and cruelties.
Why do you suppose he brought me
here tonight"
II am sure | do not know"
ale told me" she whispered
clasping her hands tightly together as
she spoke, "that we were coming to
our death, tonight, and we must come
together Oh, Frank, what do you
suppose he means 2"
"Only to terrify you," said, sooth'
ingly. ale is bundle of old Scotch
superstitions, and always was"
"And, Frank, once when | thought
| heard footsteps close behind US, and
turned my head to see, he jerked my
arm and told me not to look-that-
oh, Frank, it makes my blood run cold
now-that it was death walking at
our side p
"But, Isabel, surely you will not
allow yourself to be influenced by
such folly as this"
81 told you it was folly" she an
swered, dejectedly; "but"-
A hand was laid on my arm at this
moment the hand of Carew, the con.
ductor.
Frank, look here, want to speak
to you," he said, hurriedly. "Come
here-out on the platform"
| followed him out into the stormy
darkness of the March night, where
his lantern cleaned like a sullen
shifting eye. s0
What is it? Anything wrong p
eyes, and no. Ofcourse you know
were nearly half an hour behind time
with not quite thirty minutes between
US and the lightning
"Yes. What of it ?"
"Well, that old fool, Macleod, has
turned crusty and says if we don't
run out on the side track at Speeds
vile, the next station, and wait fo1
the Lightning to pass, he'll not be an
swerable for the consequences.
"Who wants him to be answera
BILE 2" demanded, with considerable
acerbity, not to say disdain. S.r
@Well, he says it's bad night
track slippery, and all that sort of
thing; and | suppose it's all very
true. But you know the Lady
Franklin Of old. She'll keep the
thirty minutes between us and the
Lightning, wont she p brs 81
"I should say there was no kind of