The Jackson standard. [volume] (Jackson C.H., Ohio) 1847-1888, 1870-04-28
from the Atlantic Monthly
THE Blue RIVER
IL A N * r. . OB Il E II Y d.

cts only me, Foster,'' said thc
sweet, familiar voice of his wife, with.
out; and when he had admitted hel
she told him, in her quick way, tha
after she had watched with the child ar
hour or two, professional nurse who
had been sent for a week before had
arrived unexpectedly, and that she hat
been glad to give up her vigil and
come home.
Foster Houghton rarely did anything
without thinking twice about it, if moi
more; so it came about that while he
balanced in his mind the pros and con,
as to revealing to his wife the secret
which Bixby had confded to him, and
thus giving her fright in advance fol
what might prove TO be a false alarm
after all, the Sired lady went sound
asleep; and thus the scale was turned
in favor of reticence. Perhaps the hus
bands continued drowsiness contrib
uted to the resolve also; for his eye.
lids still dropped with strange obstina-
cy, and an influence more powerful than
even the apprehension Of danger trans
formed his terrors into dreams again
One, two, rang out from the belfry
on the breathless June night, already
heavy with the rising fog from the
river. Foster Houghton found himself
broad awake as he counted the strokes;
but even while ne thought it was the
clock that had disturbed him, he felt a
cold, hard ring of steel against his tenn
pie, and saw through the darkness a
man by his bedside
"Not one word, or you will never
utter another"
He noted the voice even in the whirl
of the moment, and knew that it was
strange TO him. He turned toward his
wife, and saw that there was a man by
her side also, with revolver aimed felt,
rather than saw, that she had walked
when he did, and was waiting, self
possessed, for whatever was to come.
AS the darkness yielded to his eyes, he
was aware of third figure, staining
at the window.
"Perfect quiet, remember, and we
will tell you what is to be done," said
the same voice, cool, firm, with an
utterance entirely distinct yet hardly
louder than a whisper, "You have
nothing to fear if you obey orders. A
knife is ready for the heart of each of
you if you disobey. The lady has sim.
ply to lie still as Sne will be bound to
the bed and her mouth stopped, that
will be easy; and the gag is very gen
tie, and will not hurt if she does not
resist. Mr. Houghton will rise put on
his trowsers, and go with us to the
bank, always in range of this pistol and
in reach of this blade. The keys are
already in my pocket, Number Three,
will you scratch match that l may
help the gentleman to his clothes"
The figure in the window stepped
noiseIessly forward at the summons.
AS the blue flame lighted the room
Foster Houghton observed that his
visitors were all masked with black
silk, through which u narrow slit per-
mitted vision. He noticed that their
feet were shod with listing, so thick
that step made no audible sound upon
the straw carpet. He noticed that long,
thin black cloaks covered their forms to
the ankles, so that no details of clothing
could be noted to identify them. And
while he observed these things not ven
turing to stir until the threatening muz
zle was withdrawn from his face, he
felt his hand tightly clutched by the
fingers of his wife beneath the coverlid.
Years of familiar association had
made him apt at interpreting his wife's
thoughts and feelings, without the aid
of the spoken word. Either by some
peculiar expression in the grasp itself,
or by the subtle magnetism which we
know exists among the unknown forces,
he felt that there WAS something more
than the natural terror of the moment,
more than the courage Of heart ever
braver than his own, more than SYM
pathy for his own supposed dismay, in
his wifes snatch at his hand. More
alarmed, at the instant, by the shock |
thus given him than by the more pal
pable danger, he turned his head to-
wards his wife again, and in her eyes,
and in the direction they gave to his
saw all that she had seen.
The masked figure in the centre of
the room, in producing a match, had
thrown back one side of
its cloak. BY the sickly flame just
turning to white Foster Houghton saw,
thus revealed, the twisted chain he had
played with in his own boyhood, the
golden crescent with his mothers hair,
the massive key with its seal, just as
he had seen them on his boys breast
at sunset. In an instant more a taper
was lighted; the curtain of the cloak
was drawn together again. But the
secret it had exposed was impressed
upon two hearts, as if they had been
scared with iron. As a drowning man
thinks of the crowded events of life
time, Foster Houghton thought in that
moment of supreme agony, OF dozen
links Of circumstantial evidence, the
boys baffled desire for money, his an
cry words, his evil associates, his miss
ing revolver, his deliberate explanation
Of night-long absence, his intimate
of the affairs of the bank,
,,,oant tho eoopat oonnhin ation of Tho