The Cairo bulletin. [volume] (Cairo, Ill.) 1872-1878, 1874-05-17

deceptive, and quite distinct from he
bIasc' familiarity Of the man of ga-
lantry. II was this perennial virginiy
Of the affections that most endearet
him TO the best women,w who were prone
to exercise toward him a chivalrous
pretection-as of one likely TO 20
astray unless looked after-andt in
| dulgcd in the dangerous combination
Of sentiment with the highest material
instincts. 1t was this. quality which
caused Jenny TO recognize in him
certain boyishness that required her
womanly care aud even induced her to
offer to accompany him to the cross
roads when the time Of his departure
arrived. With her superior knowledge
Of woodcrait and the locality, she would
have kept him from being lost. wot
not but that she would have protected
him from bears or wolves, but chieHyI
think, from the feline destinations Of
Robinson and Lucy Rance, who might
be lying in wait for this tender young
poet. Nor did she cease to be thank.
ful that Providence had, 80 to speak,
delivered him as trust in her hands.
1t was lovely night. The moon
swung low and languished softly on the
snowy ridge beyond. There were
quaint odors in the still air, and n
strange incense from the woods per.
iumcd their young boodS and seemed
to swoon in their pulses. Small won.
der that they fingered on the white
road, that their feet climbed unwilingly
the little hill where they were to part,
ana that when hey at last reached it.
even the saving grace Of speech seemed
20 have forsaken them.
For there they stood alone. There
was no sound nor motion in earth, or
heaven. They might have been the
one man aud woman for whom this
cody earth that lay at their feet, rim.
med with the deepest azure, was crea-
tea, And seeing this, they turned to.
ward each other with q sudden instinct,
aud their hands met and then their lips
in one long kiss.
And then out Of the mysterious dis
lance came the sound of voices and the
sharp cIatter Of hoofs and wheels, and
Jenny slid away--s white moon beam
from the hill. For a moment she
gIimmcrod through the trees, and then,
reaching the house, passed her sleeping
father on the vcranda, and darling into
her bedroom, locked the door, threw
open the window, and, falling on her
knees beside it, leaned her hot cheeks
upon her hands aud listened. la a few
moments she was rewarded by the sharp
rlatier Of hoofs on the stony road, but
1t was only horseman whose dark fg.
ure was swiftly lost in the shadow of
the lower road. At another time she
might have recognized the man. but
her eyes and ears we're now all intent
on something else. IL came presently,
with dancing lights, a musical rattle Of
harness, a cadence Of hoOf- beats that
set her heart to beating in unison and
was gone. \ sudden sense Of loneli-
ness came over her, and tears gathered
III her sweet eyes.
She arose and looked around her.
There was the little bed, the dressi ng-
table the roses that che had worn last
night, still fresh and blooming in the
little vase. Everything was there, but
everything looked strange; the roses
should have been witAered, fer the party
seemed so long ago; she could hardly
remember when she had worn the
dress that lay upon the chair. So she
came back TO the window and sank
down beside it, with her cheek, triHe
palcr, leaning on her hand, and her
long braids reaching to the floor. The
stars palcd slowly, like her cheek; yet
with eyes that saw not, she still looked
| from her window for the coming dawn.
II came, with violet deepening into
purple, with purple flushing into rose,
with rose shining into silver and glow
ing into gold. The struggling line Of
black picket fence below, that had
faded away with the stars, came back
with the sun, What was that object
moving by the fence? Jenny raised her
head, aud looked intently. 1t was a
man endcayoring to climb the pickets,
and falling backward with each at.
tempt. Suddenly she started to her
feet, as II the rosy Pushes of the dawn
had crimsoncd her from forehead TO
shoulders; then she stood white as the
wall, with her hands clasped upon her
bosom. Then, with n single bound,
she reached the door, and, with flying
braids and huttering skirt, sprapg
down the stairs and out into the garden
walk. When within few feet of the
fence she uttered cry-the first she
had givcn--the cry of mother over
her stricken babe, of tigress over her
mangled cub, and in another moment
she had leaped the fence and knelt be.
side Ridgeway, with his fainting head
upon her breast
My boy-my poor, poor boy who
has done ths?'
Who indeed? His clothes were GOV.
cred with dust his waistcoat was torn
open, and his handkerchief, wet with
the blood il could not stanch, fell from
cruel stab beneath his shoulder.
'Ridgeway! my poor boy-tell me-
what has happened
Ridsewny slowly opened his heavy,
blue'veined lids, and gazed upon her
Presently CLEAN of mischief came