Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1867-03-20

was an inscrutable something in the melt
ing darkness of her eye that seemed to
appeal to me with a voiceless cry for
help.
What is it, Barbara p questioned,
instinctively. ..4es4 4.q-. '
She looked wonderingly at me-the look
had all gone out of her eyes now.
" Nothing. Did | speak ~
" But what ails you ? Why are you so
depressed in spirits ~ ~.
d" feel there is something wrong-that
man-you have escaped him this time, but
| want you to be wary of him.
"For your sake ?'' | ventured, stutter-
ingly and hesitatingly.
Z. For your own sake" she answered
and then both of us were silent for some
time.
What a delightful, dreamy walk that
was, down to the bridge, whose rude planks
spanncd the shallow, brawling stream, with
the low sun hanging like a ball of gold
above the purpled woods, and the air full
of fragrant breathings of the spring-tide.
whose coming footsteps were already sweet
upon the hills Pleasant in spite of
warning anu w dlkeT DdTDdTd SoItly-
spoken 8 Good-by ~ sounded like saddest
music as turned away from the bridge
regretting that could not prol ong the ram
bling tete-a-tete to an indefinite length.
A few PAGES higher up | turned once
more to watch the scarlet CLEAN of Bar
baras wrappings through the column-like
trunk Of the leaHess trees, and, as my eye
rested on this one bright glimpse of color,
a tall figure emerged with steathy air
from the thickets beyond and joined her.
, 1t was John Walkers self How the
sharp pang of jealousy shot through my
heart as | saw him bend over her little
hand and still hold it in his as he walked
. by her side, apparently talking in the most
earnest manner. Was it a preconcertcd
, interview between them ? Had she told
5 him to meet her as soon as |, the deluded
7 dupe, was safely out of the way? Did
they make my home a rendezvous, to es-
cape the eyes of her father ? Or did
n they
Hark Surely that was a cry, wild and
a startling, full of horror that disturbed the
5 gloomy current Of my meditations-a cry
r from Barbara Wyciffe's lips From my
commanding post on the high ground |
| could see that she had started back from
| him and drawn her hand away. Ny first
: thought was to spring down into the rayine
: and Join her, but | desisted when | saw
him take the hand once again. | could
see-not hear-that he was speaking III an
n eager manner, making frequent and impul-
r sive gestures, pointing in my direction
d and then | saw him grasp her again:
6 saw his arm around her waist, her head
upon his shoulder and | saw, too, that
she did not again repulse him.
:. . | am glad | did not make a fool OF
o myself" | muttered, bitterly, between my
set teeth, turning away and Fastening with
r long, irregular strides up the hill = Let
k them 90 on their way. 1t is the last time
[ shall allow myself to be duped by tho
bright eyes of heartless coquette. | am
: glad [ have discovered her in her true
light at last -
e But | deceived myself | was MT glad
e The sorest pang that ever rent a true and
d honest heart was gnawing at mine as
slowly returned to the house. or rather
: cabin and the lively refrain | forced my
self to whistle as | went died away into
IS melancholy minor ere [ was aware of it
As | entered the room | looked up invol.
? UNFAIRLY, with the instinct which grows
. from constant habit, at the clock. The
hands indicated the hour of six I had
L somehow fancied it to be later than that
y The sun had dipped down behind the pur.
r pie line of woods the long shadows of the
trunks stretching out across the brown
G, turf in front of my doorstep, had vanish
ed and Just in the warm orange glow Of
I the west great golden star famed anC
5 quivered, like a solitary eye Of fire.
1T can't be that the sun sets earliel
than usual" | said to myself half doubt
$ fully land yet"
d While stood there hesitatng, | knew
d not why, the silver sound of a far-off village
bel-the church bell of St. Mark 5, a
,. Branhill, heard only in the clearest anC
e stillest days, and when the wind set in
IN peculiar direction-rang out its stroke
l. with marvellous distinctness.
II " One-two-three-fo
r, seren," Like invisible writing suddenl.
lie flashing into view at the magic action o
fire, the whole chain of circumstances be
L came frightfully, diabolically clear. JOIN
Walkers mysterious presence in my cabi
lie but two hours since sufficiently ex
rs planned now He had writhed in, deadl
W and noiseless, like a serpent, to work m
Id ruin, and elevate himself upon the wrecl
y of my good name and trust. His hand ha
moved backward the indices of my time
piece upon the dial with motive too hor
OF rible for me to contemplate without shud
re der He knew for had | not myself toll
[ him ?) that the Lightning Express, goin
ht north, met the branch-road train at seve
O'Clock, and that it rushed wildly forwar
I'd without stopping, with only whistle G
ne warning. The switch was set to the branc
road it must be changed at quarter t
seven, or the Lightning Express woul
IL leave the track and collide with the AZ
ce commodation,' calmly waiting it in fancie
IS security. Yes John Walker had delibel
to ately laid his plans to ruin me; and Bal
bara-could it be possible that Barbara
o. sweet frankness, her unwonted presence
5 !; her warning, were part of his fendish cor
st spiracy to divert my attention, and vile m
away from the post of duty? Was Bal
,h bara in his interest? and had l bee
is doubly deceived? As stood there pei
its fectly motionless, with cold drops oozin
:" out upon my brow, and frozen sort
rigidity at my heart, l could almost Sc
sr- the shattered cars, the shapeless, splintere
ry ruin, the crushed machinery, the ghastl
faces upturned to the glowing purple of til
1t fair twilight sky; 1 could hear the shriel
- and groans and dying gasps through II
dull, continuous roar that seemed to surg
as across my brain! And II should ha,
been the unconscious murderer, the gull
q | Io.a n CD of oil ,,ooro;a.