Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1875-03-23

| hlot bo Jou soo th"1 puuu'S ""eS'
his head ?"
The other william nodded. winked,
and leered.
I'm bet you horn of brandy" said the
first, THAT the chap has either pocket
book or snug little hoard of small
change, slowed away among his shirts.
And if not there, we shall find it In his
pantaloons pocket"
"Bnt how il he wakes?"
Ills companion thrust aside his waist.
coat pointed 10 The handle of dirk, and
nodded.
$50 be itm muttered the second viii
lain.
They approached the unconscious
David, and, while one pointed the dag
ger toward his heart, the other began 10
search the bundle beneath his head 9.
Their two laces. grim, wrinkled, and
ghastly with guilt and fear. bent over
their victim, looking horrible enough to
be mistaken for liends, should he sudden
ly awake. Nay, had the Williams glanced
aside into the spring, even they would
hardly know them selves. rs reflected
there. But David Swan had never worn
more tranquil aspect, even when asleep
-. l. =
81 must take away the bundle whis-
perCd one.
but if he stirs, I'll strike muttered
the other.
But at this moment a dog seeming
along the ground, came in beneath the
maple trees. and gazed alternately at
each of these wicked men, and then at
the quiet sleeper. lie then Tapped out
the fountain.
"Pshaw :" said one villain. I'VE can
DO nothing now. The dogs master must
be close behind
Let's take drink and be off," said
the other.
The man with the dagger thrust the
weapon into his bosom, and drew forth a
poket pistol, bnt not OF that kind which
kills by single discharge. L, was
flask of liquor. with a block.tin tumbler
screwed upon the mouth. Each drank
comfortable dram. aud lett the spot. with
so many jests, and such laughter at their
uuaccomplished wickedness, that they
might he said 10 have gone on their way
rejoicing In few hours they had for
gotten the whole affair, nor once mag
ined that the recording angel had written
down the crime OF murder against theii
souls, in letters as durable as eternity.
As Tor David Swan he slept quietly,
neither conscious OF the shadow OF death
when il hung over him. nor oil the glow
OF renewed lie, when that shadow was
Withdrawn.
He slept. but no longer quietly as ut
first. An hours repose had snatched
from his elastic frame the WEAKNESS With
which many hours Of toll had burdened
It. Now he stirred now moved his lips,
without a sound; now talked. in an in
ward tone. TO the MONDAY spectres oil
his dream But noise of wheels came
ra,tling louder and louder along the road
until it dashed through the dispensing
mis-, Of David's slumber; and there was
the stage coach. He started up with oil
his ideas about him.
Haloo driver, Take y passenger !"
shouted he.
Room on topl" answered the driver.
Up mounted David. and bowled away
merriy toward Boston. without so much
as o parting glance at that fountain oil
dreamlike vicissitudes. He knew not
that phantom of Wealth had thrown q
golden hue upon its waters. nor that one
OF Love had sighed softly TO their MUIR
mur. nor that one OF Death hac threaten.
ed TO crimson them with his blood all
in one brief hour since he lay down to
sleep. Sleeping or waking. we hear not
the airy footsteps Of the strange things
that almos, happen. Does 1t not argue
a experimenting Providence that. while
viewless and unexpected events thrust
themselves athwart our path. there
should still be regularity enough, in
mortal life TO render foresight even
nar,;a llv "a h1a