Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1874-04-23

| ah hioio 'iNiuiy lHdn all he saw the
great red sun with its hazy veil lingering
above the trees as though it pitied him
with more than human pity!
he was God-tearing and Godserving
man. He had long ago made his peace
| with Heaven. Nothing stood between
| him and death nothing rose pleading be-
| tween him and those who were to destroy
him, but the sweet face of Lily De We're.
whom he loved. She had knelt at Crom-
wells feet and pleaded for his life. She
han wearled Heaven with her prayers, but
all without avail.
slowly cow the great sun went down
Slowly the las, red rim was hidden behind
the green wood. Thirty seconds more
| and the curfew would ring. Thirty sec
| onds more and his soul would be with his
God. The color did not forsake his
cheeks. The dark rings of hair lay upon
a warm brow. 1t was his purpose to die
| as martyrs and brave men die. What was
life that he should cling to it? what was
death that he should shrink from itg He
almost felt the air pulsate with the first
heavy roll of the death knell. But no
sound came. Still facing the soldiers
with his clear, gray eye upon them, he
waited. The crimson banners in the west
their lowing and had been gathered into
the rick yards.
All nature had sounded her curfew; but
old Jasper was silent!
The bell-ringer with his gray head yet
barred traversed half the distance that Law
between his cottage and the uncovered
tower, when form went fitting past
him, with pale, shadowy robes tloating
nd hoir hat ba
lights touched and tinted as with halo.
"Ah, Huldah, Huidah!" the old man
muttered; chow swift she tlies | will
come soon, dear My work is almost
done" Huldah was the good wife who
had gone from him in her early woman
hood and for whom he had incurred all
of his long life But the fleeing form
was not Huldah's; it was Lily De We're,
hurried by sudden and desperate pur-
pose toward the old Cathedral.
$50 help nae God, curfew shall not ring
to night! Cromwell and his dragons
come this way. Once more | will Kneel
at his feet and plead"
She entered the ruined arch She
wrenched from its fastenings the carved
and worm-eaten door that barred the way
to the tower. She assembled with flying
and frenzied feet the steps; her heart lift
ed up to God for Richards deliverance
from peril The bats flew out and shook
the dust of centuries from the black cary
ings AS she went up she caugh
glimpses of the interior of the great
building with its groined roof, its ehev-
rons and clustered columns; its pictured
saint and carved image of the Virgin,
which the pilagers of all ages had spared
to be dealt with by Time, the most re!ent-
less vandal of all.
Up-still up-beyond the rainbow tints
thrown by the stained glass across her
death,white brow; up--stll up-past open
arcade and arch, with griffin and gar
goyle staring at her from. under bracket
and cornice, with all the hideousness of
medieval carving; the stairs, flight by
flight, growing Trailer beneath her young
feet; now but a slender fretwork between
her and the outer world; but still up!
Her breath was coming short and gasp
ing. She saw, through an open space, old
Jasper cross the road at the foot Of the
tower. Oh, how far! The seconds were
treasures which Cromwell, with all his
blood bought Commonwealth, could not
purchase from her. Still up-ah there,
Just above her, with its great brazen
mouth and wicked tongue, the bell hung !!
A worm eaten block for a STEP and ore
small, white hand had clasped itself
above the clapper-the other prepared, at
the first tremble, to rise and clasp its
mate, and the feet to swing off; and
thus she waited. Jasper was old and
slow-but he was sure, and it came at
last. A faint culver, and the young feet
swung from their rest, and the tender
hands claspcd fer more than their precious
life the writing thing There was groan-
ing and creaking oithe rude pulleys above,
and then the strokes came heavy and
strong. Jasper's hand had not lost its
cunning, nor his arm its strength. The
tender, soft form was swung and dashed
to and fro. 1t was bruised by the brazen
sides and tortured by the unshapely
tongue But she chung to and caressed
the cold, cruel thing. Let one stroke
come and thousand might follow--for
its fatal work would be done. She
writhed her white arm about it, SO that at
every pull of the great ropes ii crushed
into the flesh. 1t tore her, and wound ed
and bruised-but there in the solemn
twilight the brave woman swung, and
fought with the cruel curfew; and God
gave her the victory.
The old bellringer said to himself,
cave, Huldah, my work is done. The
pulleys are getting too heavy for my old
arm. My ears, too, have failed me at last.
! dinna hear one stroke of the curfew
Dear old bell, it is my ears that have gone
false, and not thou. Farewell, old friend"
And just beyond the worn pavement o
shadowy form again went fitting past
him. There were drops Of blood upon
the white garments; and the face was like
the face of one who walked in her sleep /;
and the hands hung wounded and power