The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1872-08-23

Within the cabin the women were gath
cred closely together, horror depicted upon
the faces of all.
Leaning against the window, her head
bent, her dark eyes burning and her brown
hands clasped closely together, stood Jessie
Barton. None were near her, for all seem
less in the first pangs of her grief
Suddenly, without word, she turned,
and flinging open the door, dartcd out into
the night before hand could be raised to
stay her. Almost as swiftly as bird, she
fitted across the strip of clearing and van
ished in the forest.
She heard the door open quickly, and
a voice call, "Jessie, where are you p
Come back ~
She did not answer, but plunged still
deeper in the woods, moving after the band
of men, toward Redstone Gulch.
ooh, Wynnc! My husband 2" she moan
ed, her voice full ofagony. Why should
he harm you for my fault cannot live
without you"
Another instant and quick, stealthy step
sounded close at her side, and ere she could
turn and flee, II strong arm was thrown
around her waist.
"Girl, you will be sorry you came alone !"
u hoarse voice spoke in her ear. You are
in my power now, and cannot escape.
love you more madly than ever, and you
must 90 with me in my flight. l thought
that l would be satisfied when | murdered
the man you loved but the JOY Of revenge
was nothing compared to the JOY of hold
ing you in my arms, and knowing that no
mower cau take Won from mp.h
In the darkness she could not see the
features of her captor, but far too we'll she
recognized the hoarse, rul1ianly voice.
"Dion Brent !" she cried, falling on her
knees beside him, her voice trembling, her
face white as marble, showing in the dark
ness. 81 will not ask you fer mercy, for l
know you have no more than the panther.
Let me again look on his face, and care
not to live. You may do with me what
ever you will. if you will let me gaze once
more upon the face of my dead husband"
Her piteous tones reached the rutlian's
heart, for he was silent for moment and
then said:
You shall see him, but cannot trust
you out of my grasp. Come! ~
He drew her towards him and moved on
through the forest, half carrying her tremb-
ling form. His moccasin feet made but
little noise as they fell upon the earth, but
more noiseless still, shadow, scarcely visi-
BILE in the darkness, moved after him. The
torches of the party of searchers, which a
moment before were cleaning in the dark
ness far in advance, like an ignis fltuus, had
died out; but Dion Brent did not hesitate,
for he knew the forest paths WELL
Not a word came from Jessie Barton S
lips; her brain was in whirl and her
heat seemed turning to ice in her bosom.
The ruf1ian's arm bore nearly all the
weight of her slight form, yet he pressed
on, picking his way in the darkness with
ease and speed.
Soon the great forest trees grew less dense,
and the path seemed to lead up slight
ascent. A low hum of voices not far dis
tant, came plainly to Brent's ears, but he
did not pause, and noiseless as q shadow, a
tall form passed on after him. At length
he halted, as the ascent grew more abrupt,
and great rocks lay scattered in the path,
but only for a moment; then, turning, he
moved cautiously in direction at right
angles with the one he had been pursuing.
Suddenly from the inky blackness in
front and seemingly fifty feet below him,
glared the light of a score of torches, re-
ycaling the forms of band of men gather
ed in the rocky pass or gulch below. In
the centre of the group, lay stretched upon
the earth the body of a man, his CHASTITY,
upturned face made plainly visible by the
glare of the torches.
90! Wynne my husband !" A low
trembling cry, full of anguish, came from
Jessies lips and she would have fallen from
the cliff had not Brent's strong arm upheld
her.
At this moment, shout from the gulcb
rang out upon the night air.
1t is not Wynne Gaylord, but Edward
Wylie Dion Brent has murdered the
wrong man w
A cry of mingled establishment and rage
came from Brent's lips, and he started back
wildly. AS he did so, a tall form, that oil
Wynne Gaylord himself sprang to his side
and caught the girls dropping form which
he had unclasped.
"Jessie, Jessie, look up, you are saved y
90! Wynne, and you are not dead !" and
her arms were clasped about his neck.
Motionless as statue, Brent had stood
for a moment, till he recognized the form
before him, then with terrified cry O
hate he sprang forward. But like tlasl
came u terrible blow from his antagonist
striking him in the face. With his arms
flung in the air he reeled backward, totter
ed for an instant upon the verge, and thcl
fell over the cliff, crushed heavily down thu
rugged side, turning over and over, till hi
lay mangled and bleeding, beside thu
corpse of the man he had mistaken ant
slain in the twilight for Wynne Gaylord
To-day, low mound of earth marks thu
spot where Dion Brent, the murderer
sleeps in Redstone Gulch.