The Albany register. [volume] (Albany, Or.) 1868-18??, 1874-11-06

and single red coat is seen Slowly
mounting to the top of the wall, hls
eyes fixed upon the hall door, which he
! will force ere moment IS gone.
/ Now the last ball is fred, the old man
/ stands there in that second story WIN
dow, his hands vainly striving Tor
another loaded rifle.
At this moment the wounded and dJ
! ing band below were joined by parry
| of some twenty refugees, who cIad III
/ their robber uniform came rushing from
! the woods. and with one bound are
/ leaping from the summit of the wall.
sFQuick, Bess, my rifle
And look there-even while the vet
eran stood looking out upon the foes,
the brave girl-for slender IN form and
wildly beautiful in face, she IS brave
oirl a hero woman-had managed, as
/ f nv instructive impulse, to load rife.
/ She handed it to her father, and then
+ loaded another and another ! Was not
that beautiful sight ? A fair, young
girl grasping powder and ball. with
rarnrod rising and fallen in her slender
fingers.
/ Now look down to the wall again
The refugees are climbing over It's sum-
mit-again a horrid cry and another
wounded man tumbled down on his
dead and dying comrades.
But. now look A smoke rises, the
fire blazes up around the wall they
have fred the gate. A moment and the
bolt and lock will be burned from the
socket-the passage will be free. Now
is the fiery moment of the old mans
trial.
While the brave daughter loads he
continues to fire with that deadly aim,
but now-oh, horror-he falls, he falls
with a musket ball driven into his
breast. The daughters outstretched
arms received the father, as with blood
spouting from the wound, he toppled
from the window.
Oh, it is sad and terrible picture.
The old man writhing there en- the
oaken floor, the young daughter bending
over him, the light from the window
streaming over her face, over her faith
er's gray hairs, while the ancient furni-
trre of the small chamber affords dim
background to the scene.
Now, bark The sound of axes at
the hall door; shouts hurrahs curses
ss We have the old rebel at last p
The old man raises his head at that
sound makes an effort to rise clutches
for rifle, and then falls back again, his
eyes glaring, as the fierce pain of that
wound quivers through his heart.
Now, watch the movements of the
daughter. Silently she loads a rife, 81
lently she rests it against the head of
that powder keg, and then placing her
finger on the trigger, stands over her
enraged soldiers came laundering down
the stairs Yes, they have broken the
hall door to fragments, are in possession
of the old bIock-house, they are rushing
oward the chamber with murder in
their eyes Had the old man thou
sand lives they would not be worth a
farthing's purchase now.
Still that girl, grown suddenly white
as the kerchief round her neck, stands
there trem bling from head to foot, the
rifle in her hand, its dark tube laid
against the powder keg.
The door bursts open Look there
Stout forms are in the doorway, with
muskets in their hands grim faces
stained with blood, glaring into the
room.
Now, as if her very soul has coined
the words, that young girl, with face
pale as ashes, hazel eyes glaring with
deathly light, utters this short but
meaning speech
Advance one step into this room,
and I will fire this rife into the powder
there"
No oath quivers the lips of that girl,
to confirm her resolution, but there she
stands alone, with her wounded father,
and vet not soldier dare cross the
threshold. Embrued as they are in
deeds of blood, there is something ter
rible to those men in the words of that
young girl, who stands there with the
rifle laid against the powder keg.
They stand as if spell-bound, on the
threshold of that chamber.
AZ Tacf ono holder than tho rest
bravo. whose face is half inclosed in
thick, red beard, grasps rifle and lev
els it at the young girls breast.
s'Stand back. or I will fire %
Still the girl is firm the bravo ad-
vances step and then steps back. The
sharp '' click of that rifle falls with
an unpleasant emphasis upon his ear.
"Bess, I am dying" gasps the old
man, extending his arms. Ha, ha, we
have foiled the Britishers. Come,
daughter, kneel here kneel and say
prayer for me, and let me feel your
warm breath upon my face, for am
getting cold. Oh, dark and cold ~
Look AS those trembling accents
fall from the old mans tongue, those
fingers unloose their hold of the rifle
already the troopers are secure of one
victim, young and beautiful girl, for
affection for her father is mastering the
heroism of the moment--look She is
about to spring into his arms. But now
she sees her danger again, she clutches
the rife again, though her fathers dy
ing accents are in her ears, stands there
prepared to scatter that house in ruins
If a single rough hand assails that vet
eran form.
There are few moments of terrible
suspense, then hurried sound far
down the mansion, then contest on the
stairs. then the sound of rife shots and
the light of rifle blaze. Then the ruff
fans in the doorway fall crushed by the
strong arm of the Continental soldiers.
Then a wild shrek quivers through the
room, and that young girl-that hero of
a woman-with one bound springs into
her brothers. arms, and nestles there
while her father-his form yet warm
lies with fixed eyeballs, upon the floor.
Jeremy Taylor on Marriage.
The foI1oxyinoy extract from that sound