The Fremont weekly journal. [volume] (Fremont, Sandusky County, Ohio) 1867-1877, 1874-02-06

stVlishlY made, WING Cne gauntie
! cloves and riding whip proved tha
| the stranger had been on horseback
! "He has been thrown, doubtless
Ibut God grant he is not dead" ex
claimed the maiden, as she knelt be
Iside the PROSTATE form, and drew
aside the coat to place her hand up
on his heart.
With a cry of terror she sprang tc
lher feet, her hand stained with blood
jfor from his side 8 small stream
welled up slowly.
"He is dead, and has been murder
led"
t"No."
1t was almost whisper, and the
heavy lids raised from the dark eyes
filled with anguish, but strangely
dark and facinating.
sThank God, there is yet hope
be suiet, sir, 1 impore you, and
will aid you all in my power" ex
Iclaimed Leone, and drawing her hab
lit around her, she ran rapidly fen
PAGES down the road to where it was
crossed by a small stream, and sat
urating her handkerchief, returned
and without hesitation drew aside
the clothing and placed it upon the
twound-a small bullet wound in the
left side over the heart.
"You must keep perfectly quiet,
and l will soon return" she said, not
knowing whether she was heard OF
not, and then in an instant she was
in her saddle, dashing at her utmost
speed towards the nearest farm
house.
Dashing like the wind up to the
door, and startling quiet farmer Jes-
sop and his family nearly out of
their wits, Leone cried:
"Mr. Jessop, let your son ride at
once to DR.. WELLS, and tell him a
gentleman lies dangerously wounded
on the road near Hillside Spring; tell
him to come there at once, and you,
Mr.. Jessop, please come on with
your carriage, and bring all that
yOu think necessary"
Every one in the country knew
and loved Leone Lightfoot, and rap
idly her orders were obeyed, which
observing, she wheeled her foaming
horse, and again sped away upon her
return to the wounded stranger
There he lay just as she had left him,
but groaning slightly, and each in
stant dampening the blood stained
handkerchief, the girl awaited the
coming Of the surgeon.
Would they ever come? she
thought; but at length when it seem
ed hours instead of minutes, the
sound of wheels broke on her ears,
and the next instant the surgeon
drove up at a rapid pace.
"You are noble woman, Miss
Lightfoot, and if this man lives he
owes his life to you," said the good
old physician, as he approached and
knelt beside the prostrate form.
"But will he live, Doctorg'
For some minutes no reply was
given by the man Of science, who
carefully probed aad examined the
wound, but then he said slowly:
sit is a serious injnry-ha! here /
have the ball; yes, / hope he, will
live;" and DR.. Wells took from the
wound small bullet, while he con-
tinued.
"Now he needs the most careful
nursing"
NHe shall have it. Thank God,
here comes Mr.. Jessop," and imme'
diately after the carriage drove up,
and telling the doctor to come on
with the wounded stranger to her
brothers house, Leone again mount
ed her horse and rode on to have all
in readiness for his arrival.
1t was a week before the stanger
was sufficiently recovered to teh his
story regarding the wound that had
so nearly proven fatal to him, and
then by careful nursing, he informed
Leone, who had been untiring in her
devoted care of him, that his name
was Clarence Ainslee-was an Eng
lisbman, who nearly a year before
had come to America, and purchas-
ing a few acres of land in the West,
made it his home.
He also stated that business had
called him to New York, and while
enjoying a horse back ride, he had
been suddenly fred upon, was
thrown to the ground, and had an
indistinct remembrance that some
one was robbing him, for his watch,
pocket book, and all valuables he
he'd about him were gone.
That Clarence Ainslie was no or
dinary man Leone Lightfoot knew
when she first saw him lying by the
roadside but that he would ever pos
sess the power 60 control her life she
had not believed.
But SO it was, for each proved to
her that she had met her beau ideal; (;
and yet was he for her? Might he
not already have loved? Might he
not already be married?
The thought chilled her very heart;
and yet; when she saw the dark fas
cinating eyes turned upon her with
admiration, and read-or hoped she
did-thereln a deeper, holier feeling
Leone felt happy and longed to be a
slave, and become q mere automaton
to the caprices of Clarence Ainslie.
Now Arthur Lightfoot and his
pretty wife looked upon the matter
in a different light, for, though hos
pitable in the extreme to the strang-
er guest they looked upon him as a
poor English Emigrant, a petty
Western farmer, and did not wholly
like the idea that he should control
the heart OF Leone, for they were
not blind to her devotion to the
wounded man.
Still they could not but admire
the courteous manner Of their
stranger guest, when, after six weeks
he sufficiently recovered to join
them in the parlor and at the din
ner.
That he had been reared agentle-
man was evident, and he had travel.
ed and seen something of the world
was also evident, as was also that
Mr.. and Mrs. Lightfoot had never
seen handsomer man, they were
compelled to admit but that Leone,
the belle, the heiress, and most love-
8 a. l,,- sb0,,ld love n .,