The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1878-04-24

isters in these days labor. He had no hep
no regular services. but here and there, un
der the pines. behind the great rocks, in The
shadow of the mountain. on the river side
he talked and prayed and rejoiced. and bi.
heart grew light and happy as day after day
men and women asked him to put theil
names on his book, the only visible church
IN Echo Gulch. And what power
for good that little memorandum
book became. To beregistered there was 90 be
set apart from the world to drink, lie, steal
profane the Sabbath no more. 1t was q
monument set over the evil past, guide to
a noble future. Suddenly great longing
possessed Mr.. Arnold to go east. He craved
a sight Of the old places. of the well known
faces, the sound of remembered voices He
had promised to stay at his post for four
years, but as yet months would elspse before
that time would expire. So believing he
was justified he determined to go. After he
started came the question, "Where 20 go?r
The whole impulse of his heart was to return
to Glenville and see Ruth, but her silence
and that of her grandfather seemed so
ominous he dreaded the meeting. But love
controlled him, and late one Saturday after
noon he raped at tine door of his old boarding
house. Nothing seemed changed. Glenville
always appeared as if il had grown Just 30
| much and then in the night time petrified
A perfect volley Of hysterical greetings met
him when his landlady saw who he was,
and had she had her way half of the church
would have been informed of his where
1 -
oSlty he began his questionings as to old
friends. Brother and Sister Allen and
their grandchildren are well, I hope?''
''They are dead" "Deadm and
CHASTITY pale he covered his face with his
hands. THE old folks, / mean. Ruth has
left town." The JOY was as powerful as the
sudden pain, and the voice that asked the
question was tremulous. "Where has she
gomez II hardly know; she IS teaching
music, first in one school, then in another.
She is clear broken down. The last time she
was here she looked like a ghost, she was so
pale, and dressed in such deep black "But
laws, don't you correspond He did not
heed the query, but said, "Can 1 find out
from any one exactly where she is now?"
II
like a fash When she returned flushed
and exultant. she had all the necessary infor-
nation. Ruth was in an academy at Colum-
bus, and had been for a month or more quite
sick. when does the train start for Colum-
bus?' Mr.. Arnold said, gathering up his lug
gage. In An hour, but you won't go TO-
night?' Yes, must. 1 have important
hrrcf D,rth 4 II
once"
BY midnight be was in Columbus, and the |
next morning he found out Ruth's home |
and where she attended church He took q |
pew close to the door, and watched the |
people closely. Soon little hum OF SUBJ |
dued voices and then two by two, headed by
the teachers, the pupils of the academy |
entered. With them was Ruth, but oh! |
how changed Dressed IN the heaviest
mourning, her form seemed more fragile
than ever. Her face was pallid and the
blue veins in the white temples were dark
and full. He watched her during the
service, noted how weary and sad she
looked, and the olden love burned more
brightly than ever.
Surely he had earned the right to ap
proach her. Surely there could be in her
heart now NO doubt of mis- fidelity. She
would trust him, and be his. The
determination was fixed in his mind to
marry her at once, and take her
to his western work. The fine air of
the mountains would bring the roses back to
her cheeks. The love and devotion of his
life would drive away the sadness and BAN
ish the tears, and the smiles like sunshine.
would tighten her beautiful face.
As the people left the church he waited
Tor her at the door. She paused a moment |
10 speak to friend, and turning, saw him
standing by her side. "Hughp' "Ruthm
drew her hand through his arm, and slowly
they walked homeward. She raade no secret
)f her love for him. She was so lonely and
weak that when he asked her TO be his wife,
old her of his home, his people, the beau J
les of the place, the duties that awaited her,
he good she could do, she had S
10 heart to withhold her answer,
nd she promised to go with him. The next ,
lay they were married, and in few hours G
IN their westward journey. The last part of I
he way was rough and toilsome, and the !
leavy stage went slowly across the plain 1t .
vas dreary scene-the dark gray of the r
Eild sage, as far as the eye could reach; the
rackless, barren land, with the mountains
harding the far boundary. But to the
appy hearts no picture in all the world b
Tas as beautiful. 1t was the entrance to G
ONE and peace. Ruth leaned her weary 4
cad upon her husbands breast and slept Ii
ntil the driver, with a flourish, drove TO il
ne hotel" 1t was early evening, and the =
liners gathered after the long days work !;
} gossip and rest about the tavern porch, ci
hey had not expected Mr.. Arnold so soon, cl
nd they were specializing as to the passen 81 81
RS when the stage stopped. With kiss r
3 awakened Ruth, and said, These are my W
embers; they will be glad to see you. W
is appearance was the signal for shout 81