Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1874-04-04
A BRAVE WOMAN.

Some few autumns ago the rector of
a little seaside parish sat coming his
books in the quiet of his own study.
Mr.. Ferguson was puzzled over his
work, bothered by it in fact finally,
he sought assistance of his wife, who
sat opposite to him, busily knitting
children's socks.
''I shall be glad when we get rid of
this money we are keeping for our peo-
pie" he said, as he replaced the bags
which he had been examining. 81 am
so unused to having such sum as 97O
in the house that don't feel quite safe
with it. It's to be hoped we shall never
be rich, Kate. I've been accustomed
to 9200 a year so long now, that should
feel out of my element with larger IN
come"
"By the bye" he continued, after
pause, ''was not Sarah to come home
tonight ?"
"Not till tomorrow. She wanted
one more day to see a sailor brother who
was coming home. think I shall not
keep Sarah any longer than Christmas.
L don't like some of her ways. 1 did
not know so we'll when I engaged Sarah
what bad character her family bore
one brother has been in prison twice."
"An the more reason for keeping this
girl safe from evil influence. You
shouldn't be too hasty, Kate you are
a dear little soul, but, like all women,
you Judge too impulsively, and Who's
that, wonder ?"
A heavy step passed the window, fol-
lowed by a ring at the hall bell. Mrs.
Ferguson opened the study door as
Jane, their elder servant, passed down
the stairs, candle in hand.
Jane soon returned with alarge, damp
n envelope.
The message was from the rector's
brother at Fordham, place forty miles
distant, and ran thus:
"Come immediately-a third bad fit
my father anxiously expects you."
The rector kissed his wife and chill
dren and was soon on his way to his
brothers home.
Jane and her mistress looked two
very lonely and deserted females in
deed, as they stood peering out into
the darkness, listening to the wheels.
"Come, Jane, this will never do"
said her mistress at last, wiping some
raindrops and drops of another nature
from her face. "Let us see that all the
doors and windows are fast Get your
supper, and come and tell me when you
are ready for bed"
Then she herself re-entered the study
and sat down to collect her thoughts
somewhat after the hurry and turmoil
of the last half hour.
This illness of her father-in-law;
would he relent at the last, and let her
husband share his property with his
other children Differences arising out
of John Fergusson's marriage with a
dowerless woman, fomented by petty
family jealousies, strengthened by the
independent attitude the young man
had assumed-such differences had
been, after all, the heaviest grief of
Mrs. Fergusson's married life. And
now she wondered and pondered on
them, till the clock on the chimney
piece struck the hourof ten and startled
her out of her meditations.
1t seemed to the mistress of the house
that she had slept so long that morning
must be near, when she awoke with an
inexplicable feeling of fright-a feeling
OF something, or some one, close by
her.
"What is it ?" she cried, starting up
in the bed, and instlnctively catching
the sleeping child in her arms. No
answer.
Only distinct sound of breathing,
and then a movement like hand feel
ing along the wall-towards her.
She began to tremble violently; moth
ing but the presence of the child on her
painting bosom saved her from faint
ing.
"Who is it ?" she cried, her voice
so shaking and hollow that it awakened
Ruth, who clung to her, sleepy and
scared.
This time she had answer.
"We will do you no HARM" voice
spoke out of the darkness, eff you give
up that money you've got ;" and then,
before Mrs. Ferguson could muster
courage and breath to speak, another
voice, out of the room apparently, add
ed in a rough undertone, "And tell her
to look sharp about it, too p
IWO " LHoUG " uOu, u61D me
she whispered to herself, and Ruth be-
gan to break into screams and sobs.
"Keep that brat quiet" angrily NUT
tered the voice on the landing, "and
don't keep us here all night"
Now surely if ever woman was in q
miserable plight, Mrs. Ferguson was
that woman. Not house nearer than
the Hollands, full quarter of mile
off no soul near to help her, for Jane,
who worked hard by day, slept hard by
night, and slept moreover in queer
little room at the very top of the house
all alone-worse than alone, utterly
helpless, and woman who confessed to
the usual feminine share of cowardice.
Still, she drew her breath, and there
flashed from her heart cry for help
and then, for few brief moments, she
hought-thought with all her mind and
soul-Was there any way for her out Of
this?