The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1869-05-11

over the portrait on the wall. She saw
the blonde face in the doorway pursuing
her with dark, triumphant eyes. The
red freight streamed upon the living and
the dead face, and both, to her sight,
seemed horrible Stricken, and without
hope, Barbara turned and fled into the
night ....r
She fled into the night-a night that,
of sudden, had taken to itself score
of voices to repeat, over and over again,
as she hurried homeward, the cry of her
doubling and distracted heart, sGuilty,
or not guilty."
Alas! she knew, for he had told her
that he hated the father who had wrong
ed him. And that father was Colonel
Basil So, eyerywhere-in the wind, in
1.-THE trees, above, below,as out of heaven,
and out of earth, she heard thundered at
her, as she fed, the awful, solemn cry,
equity, or not guilty."
| CHAPTER ".
The door opened, and the wind and
rain dashed in, shrieking. After them
came Dave Swan, drenched to the skin.
He drew the bolt, for it was already nine
O'Clock, then went up to the fire, and
shook himself, like great water dog.
'Lud!" jerkeG Martha, pulling out a
skillet Of hot ham and potatoes from
their bed in the Goals, ''Pve been looking
for you, Dave, these three hours. Sup
per's ruined, reckon. We had ours
long ago" a# ts @
"Waal," i" answered Dave Swan, man
very like his sister, only broad and good
humored, where she was lean and cross,
''tain't no great fun riding from Dan
bury, with an old boss and heavy grist,
in such a storm as this. It's the equi-
noctial, l take it. The old bridge crack
ed and shook like a reed, as came
across, and the river is rising awful
There won't be plank left by morning" J"
AS he spoke tremendous blast shook
the house to its very foundation. 1t
whirled the ashes, feathery and fine, over
Martha's skillet. She blew them of, ab-
sently. ,
"Whats the news from Danbury,
Dave ?" she asked in low tone.
Dave had seated himself at the table.
He dropped knife and fork in a twink
ling. 9
The towns full of folks" he faltered,
'come to see the execution in the morn
ing. l heard the scaffold going up, this
afternoon, as passed the jail-yard-
Thump! thump! thump! l tell ye,
Marthy, every blow went to my heart,
like inife." -.g .. .-
Martha flung her apror, suddenly over
her head
"Blast it!' muttered Dave, pushing
back from the table, 81 can't eat, nohoW.
Marthy, where is she p
"Up-stairs," answered the woman, de-
jectedly. "She haint said nothing all
day What she thinks is another mat
| tel" ... .,....-
"Waal, hang he must, now ~ said Dave.
'sNothing under heaven can save him. l
saw John Basil over to Danbury, to-day.
He gave me look like heat lightning.
1 swear, he's been hard on poor Cuyler."
"Don't say any more, Dave, don't.
Drink your tea"
81 can't 1t tastes like pison. I'm
riled clean through. Give ME my pipe,
Marthy, and then III get to bed
So the untasted supper grew cold on
the table. The two sat for while silent
and detected over the dying fire-sat lis
tening to the terrific sweep Of wind and
rain outside, till the kitchen clock stirred
| the forlorn silence with ten sharp, deci-
sive strokes. Then the pair shuffled off
together. .
! Upstairs, at the window of her little
chamber, stood Barbara Peale. She had
put on her bonnet and shawl as if to go
out. She had slipped from her finger
Dirck Cuyler's ring-the ring that she
would wear no more. On her pale, beau
tiful face glowed a single fever-spot.
She flung up the sash and looked out
1t was dreadful nfght-a horrible night
She could hear the thunder of the river
even above the shrek of the wind and
the ceaseless tramping Of the rain. Earth
and heaven were one great hollow, filled
up with the very blackness of darkness
A woful night for Miss Peale to venture
out. Nevertheless she was going, for,at
this eleventh hour, John Basil had con-
lquered.
She was going to him al last-going
to grovel at his feet, to become his wife
going, with strength and spirit bro
ken, to lay down more than life itself for
that condemned man, doomed to death
lon the morrow Life for Dirck, at any
lprice! Whether he cursed her or blessed
her, she would save him. After that
alas poor Barbara!
She turned from the window The
sash resisted her. She strove in vain to
close it. AS she stood, pulling at the
fastening, sudden blast Of wind and
rain whooped into the room. With il
came cry, far-off, faint, yet quite dis
tinct-an agonized human cry:
Help! help"
1t came from theriver. Barbara flung
herself across the sill and listened. A
!, momentary lull III the wind, then sht
: heard it again, louder, clearer, three
times repeated:
l "Help! help! help3'
: And, after that, once more, faint anc
: mullled, and in a single syllable of ap
+ peal:
"Helpr'
r Barbara closed the window and raj
: down stairs.
' Dave Swans lantern, just as he hat
+ brought it from Danbury, still burne'
r forgotten, on bei:th in the little entry
Barbara caught it ups and drawing tn
bolt of the door, stepped out into tn
storm.
e 1t is good TO be young, ard strong
d and brave. She made her way into th
K open road. She set her face resolutel
it +5ward the river. 1t was awful work.
d The wind beat and buAeted her, an
t, hurled her Mther and thither. The raj
}. drenehed her instantly, She sheltcre
the feeble lantern beneath her shawl, an
u toiled on, down the black, storm-sweI
:! road. ...-..., .....s-,
n Awful. awful work! Now and the