Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1869-10-14

1t Is not possible that he did. though
! why should he arm himself to NEE,
me Is beyond comprehension. At al
1 events he went the wrong way. Good
-Sevcning."
, Surely you are not going yet'
II must. thank you. Father will
certainly think | am lost If don,
hurry home"
II | glanced up at the clock in the cor
ner. II was rather earlier than had
thoueht-only half past five.
I ''fou will let me walk with you as
FAR As the bridge, Barbara"
\! Ordinarily she would have hesitat-
| ed while. or else have uncompromis-
ingly refused my escort. She possess
ed all the impulses and wiles Of a
finished drawing room coquettc. this
little rustic Of the wilderness, and
seldom missed an opportunity of tor
mcnting me as much as possible.
had offended her by my illusions to
John Walker. and though previously
4 she had seemed almost unlike her usual
piquant capricious self. the disposition
to coquet with me seemed about re-
turning. Yet, after moments hcsi-
tation, she grew serious again. Had
| deemed it possible that she could
ever experience the sensation of per-
sonal fear. could have fancied that
she was afraid of something or some
body. for her hand trembled as she
laid il on my arm And at the same
time there was an inscru,able some
thing in the melting darkness Of her
eye tha, seemed To appeal TO me with
a voicetess cry for help.
"What is it, Barbara. Z" questioned
instinctivclv.
She looked wonderfully nj mc-the
look had all gone out Of her eyes
now.
Nothing. did not sposk."
/ But what ails YOU: Why are you
So depressed in spirits:''
/ Il feel there is something wrong
I that man. Won have escaped him this
| time. hut want you TO be wary Of
B him.
For Your sake | vcn,urcd. slut
tcringly and hesitatingly.
For Your own sake" she answered :;
| and then both OF US were silent for
some time"
What a delightful dreamy walk that
was. down 10 the bridge, whose rule
| planks SPANIEL the shallow, Drawing
stream. with the low sun hanging like
a ball of gold above the purplcd woods,
aud the air full of fragrant breathing
Of the spring-tide. whose coming foot
/ steps were already sweet upon the
I hills Pleasant IN spite Of warning
and Walker. Barbara's soft Good
, bVe - sounded like saddest music as |
/ turned away from the bridge. regret
ting that | could not prolong the ram.
bling tete-a-tcte TO an indefinite length.
few spaces higher up | turned
once more To watch the scarlet beam
Of Barbara's wrappings through the
colunn-like trunks ofthe lcailess trees
and as my eve rested on this one brigh,
/ glimpse Of color. tall figure emerged
with stcalthy air from the :hickcts
beyond and joined her.
Ii was John Walkers self, How
the sharp pang of jealousy shot through
my heart as | saw him bend over her
I little hand, and still hold it IN his as
I he walked by her side, apparently
I talking IN the most earnest manner
Was 1t preconcerted interview be-
I tween them Had she told him 10
i,.r ,lat,t.l
dupe, was safely out of the way. Did
/ they make my home rendezvous to
escape the eyes of her father: Or did
they
Hark. Surely that was cry, wild
and startling, full of horror, that dis
turbed the gloomy current of ms medi-
/ tations--a cry from Barbara Wyclific' >
| lips From my commanding post on the
| higher ground could see that she had
I started back from him and drawn her
hand away. Nv first thought was to
spring down into the ravinc and join
her. but desisted when saw him take
the hand once again. | could see-not
hear-that he was speaking in an eager
manner. making frequent and impul-
slve gestures, pointing in my direction ;
and then ! saw him grasp her hand
again saw his arm around her waist.
her head upon his shoulder and saw
too, that she did not again repulse him.
II am glad | did not make fool OF
myself | muttered, bitterly, between
my set teeth turning away and hasten
ing with long strides up the hill. Let
them go on their way. 1t is the last
time shall allow myself to be duped
by the bright eyes of heartless CO.
quette. | am glad | have discovered
her in her true light at last
But l deceived myself. was not
glad. The sorest pang that ever rent
true and honest heart was gnawing
at mine as | slowly returned to the
house. or rather cabin and the lively
refrain l forced myself to whistle as
went. died away into melancholy minor
ere | was aware of it. AS l entered
the room looked up involuntariiy
with the instinct that grows from con
slant habit, al the clock. The hand.
indicated the hour of six. had some
how fancied it to be later than that
The sun had dipped down behind th'
purple line Of woods the long shad
ows Of the tree trunks. stretching ou
across the brown turf in front of III,
door-steps, had vanished, and just il
the warm orange glow of the west ;
great golden star famed and quivered
like solitary line of fire.
1T can't be that the sun sets earle
than usual" l said to myself. hal
doubtedly; land yet
While | stood there hesitating,
knew not why, the silver sound of
/ L ~ L IL -. 4. L. Ii 4,