The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1868-11-22
VOLUME l..
MORNING STAR AND CATHOLIC MESSENGER.
NEW ORLEANS SUNDAY, NOVEMBER %. 1865
THE LADY'S LEAP.

scapes of England, none fairer and more
seemingly peaceful than Leyland Hall and
Park emerged from the transparent dark
ness of the shortest night of last year. The
knoll, at the head of long irregular mere,
almost hemmed in with deep woods of birch
and ash, save where they reccdcd from the
lake, as if in respect for the relics of old
religious magnitcence which rose from the
waters edge, ut the distance of three or
sion. 1t would be difficult to conceive n
scene suggestive of more perfect tranquil
ty impossible to find one.
AS it began to grow light-about half
past two, that is-a strange thing happen
ed. young lady on a tall, gannt hunter
and took her away across the park Mt full
speed. Her form looked almost childlike
in contrast with the animal she rode. To
one unable to see her face, it might have
seemed the frolic of wild school girl
There was tension, though, of the set
mouth, and a fixity Of gaze in the dilated
eyes, that forbade the t. ought. Whatever
may have been the cause of her daring
freak at that strange hour, she was terribly
in earnest.
Leaving the mansion far to the right, she
crossed the drive midway between it and
the lodge, and made straight for the park
wall. Fortunately the beast she rode was
a trained hunter, and not to be hurried into
recklessness. When within n hundred
yards of the wall, an awkward dyke of dry
stone, he gathered himself up and settled
to his stride for the leap with the GOODNESS
of long experience. In her fear or earnest
ness the rider seemed unconscious of the
dangerous fence, save as an obstacle in her
path. There was something worse than
death behind her, or better than life before
her.
'sNow, Trajan, now! Save me, dear,
save met" she cried aloud as he rose at the
leap.
The clatter of his hoofs rs he alisLted
on the hard highway seemed to frighten
her, and she looked back at the hall, as if
fearing the noise should rouse the sleeping
inmates. A vain fear she was already
beyond the reach of the sha2pest ear.
For nearly mile she followed with I'M
slackened speed the public road, and then,
leaping low hedge to the left, pushed for
the hills across the pasture-land at their
feet. She soon reached the first activities,
and the fine old horse, now thoroughly
warmed to his work, breasted them gal
1antly. Her weight was n mere feather to
scarcely credible speed, as though he had
caught something of her passionate eager
ness himself. With rare sagacity, too, he
chose his course among the rough heather,
fer beyond the mere direction, she left him
to take his own course. Thus, heading for
ilitll all uOuI IOOh UHSu luLO
the heart of the wild moors of the Macclcs-
field Forest, over which they pressed at
perilous speed. Their safety seemed mi
racle; but the worst was yet before them.
Sobered but unexhausted by his exer-
tions, the stout horse checked his pace on
the brow of the valley of the Goyt, and en-
tered on the rugged descent with a caution
he had notibefore shown. The rider, wrest-
ling with her own thoughts, and wholly
occupied with them, seemed unconscious
of the danger of her position, rs he bore her
down the steep hillside, where false step
would have been inevitable death, when IL
sudden and terrible peril forcibly recalled
her to herself They had reached the lower
slopes, wien the night express from Lon
don came screaming through a cutting to
their right, with the hiss and roar of a fall
ing avalanche. Snorting with alarm. Ira
jan started off at headlong speed, and tore
down the remaining declivity with mad
bounds. Before them was the Govt, gilt
tering in its stony and half-dried bed, Il
sheer twelve feet below the narrow, rocky
meadow, which lay between it and the hill
foot. The opposite bank was not SO high
by many feet, but as rugged and perpen-
dicular.