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

thunderous rush of the water filed hel
ears. Barbara swung her lantern higl
above her head and looked around.
Its faint, fiickering light burned the
darkness away from her in trembling
cifcles. A sharp, sudden scream escap
ed her. The old bridge was gone.
1t vas gone. Just before her stood
up the naked piers, lashed by the furious
river. A single beam, not foot wide
stronger, perhaps, than the others, re
mained on The foundations. Below, 9
horrible mass of debris lay choked be,
twiXt the steep banks. The mighty
oallen planks Of the bridge had lodged
themselves over against the old willow
tree, and were there holding the chafed
and hungry currents ut bay.
''Who calls for help'?" shouted Bar
bara, with the wan laatern held high,
like star, on that gulf Of darkness.
With that, there came q rushing sound
through the water, a scraI3bling up the
bank. She looked. and saw q red-roan
horse, saddled and oridled, brit riderless
He came toward her, steaItiing and
streaming, his agcnized nostrils d'stended
his whole body trembling from head to
hoof. Barbara's heart gave d single
bound, then stood STILL She knew that
horse.
"Who calls for help ?" she cried again.
"Answer, in Gods namew
Below CHASTITY piers, out Of that
wrecked mass, boiling there in the aw-
full blackness, tloated faint, faint ans
wer:
"Help help!" r- ... -
She knew the voice, also. The horse,
too, shivering on the bank beside her,
snorted wildly. .a.
"Where are you ?" shouted Barbara.
II cannot see you"
The voice faltered painfully back:
"Hele-crushed among the timbers." !"
"Can I reach you from this bank p
"No. The bridge is gone"
Babara put down. her lantern. She
looked at the horse. The great, shining
eyes Of the creature started back at her
in the awful light. Dared she force him
again into that furious current? Alas
he could barely stand for weakness
She must 60 alone.
There was only one way--by the mar
row beam left solitary ON the founda-
tions of the bridge. .s
/ think, for q moment, the child
brain reeled. She looked once at the
pitch black river below. Then she caught
up her lantern and set out.
That lonely plank was like thread
stretching from bank to bank. Under
it twisted and wrlthed and roared the
tremendous volume of water. A single
false step, the swerving of an inch to
either side, sudden gust of wind. and
Barbara Peale would have been hurled
to her death. But there was One to lead
the brave young feet Alright in the dark
ness. There was One to uphold the lit
tie figure as it made its 'perilous way
firmly and resolutely along the awful
bridge-God.
She stood on the opposite bank at last.
The weird cid willow-tree thrust out
long, skeleton urms to clasp her.
Leaning low, with the lantern uplifted,
she cried, loudly:
"See! l am here, Speak once more.
How can l reach you?"
No reply.
"Where are you?" she shouted and
then, with wild thrill. "Great heaven
The timbers have parted. He is swept
away"
Hanging, sick and dizzy, to pendent
branch of the willow, she strained her
gaze across the whirling, eddying cur
rent. rs she did so, she saw, staring
blankly up at her from the watery depths,
q human face.
At her first frantic clutch it jeluded
her. Stretched breathless over the black
verge, she grasped it for the second
time. A sudden rush of water tossed
it aside. The third time, she caught it
by the wet, fair hair.
Oh, the strong young arms strove
well! The food grappled hard, the
wind and rain beat and lashed her, but
she drew him steadily up the slippery
bank, prone across the roots of the will
low-tree, where the red glare of the Ian
tern shone full on his face.
A fair, hieh-bred face, with a deep
cut, oozing blood, on the forehead, the
blonde hair curling wet about it. Bar
bara took his head upon her knee.
"You are hurt. r..
"Unto death," he answered.
'sDo you know me 2"
"Nes, yes. In the name of God, what
sent you to me, Barbara p
John Basil, l heard cry for help"
His dark eyes devoured her with their
long agonized gaze.
Lift me higher, Barbara. You did
well to come. The bridge and l went
down together A little higher so that
my head may rest on you bosom. Now,
Barbara Peale, promise me that may
die hele--here ON your breast, no mat
ter what l may tell you"
She did not understand him, and SC
was silent.
Promise me-" he repeated.
Then she said, mechanically:
81 promise"
The dying man looked at her steadily
"There is a man lying in Danbury jai
who will be hung tomorrow" "That
man is my brother! Barbara, child
turn your lantern little. Do you SCI
that bunch of gnarled willow-roots OF
our left? Thrust your hand beneath
them, and draw forth what is there"
With breathless, bloodless lips, Bar
bara obeyed AS she slipped her lith'
fingers into the little aperture, they STRUCK
against something lying half buried ther'
in the loose mold. She drew it forth.
1t was a long, slim stiletto, of Italian
workmanship, with a gleam Of jewels ol
the hilt.
"Look at it WE'LL" said John Basil
"There is name engraved beneath
those emeralds. Read"
Barbara held the cruel bauble tremt
lingly. AS the lantern light tlickere'
along its blue blade, she read there, O
that gemmed hilt, the name of the ma
who lay there on her breast, with tn
wind and rain beating in his pale, dyin