Feliciana sentinel., 1879-06-07
MY MIDNIGHT PERIL.

The night of the 18th of o ctober-shall
I ever forget it's pitchy darkness, the roar
of the autumnal wind through the lonely
forests, and the incessaut downpour OF
the rain
"This comes of short CUTS" muttered
petulantly to myself, as plodded along,
keeping close to the trunks of the trees
to avoid the ravine, through which
could heaa the roar of the turbulent
stream forty or fifty feet below. My
blood ran cold as I thought what might
possibly lie the consequ epce of q misstep
or move in tho wrong direction. Why
had not been contented to keep in the
right road3
Hold on! was that light, or are my
eyes playing mo falses
I stopped, holding on to the low resi-
nous boughs of a hemlock that grew on
the edge Of the bank. For it actually
seemed that the wind would seize me
odily and hurl me dow n the precipitous
descent.
1t was light, thank Providence lit
was light, and no ignus fatus to lure
mo on to destruction and death.
"Hall-o-o
My voice rang through the W ODDS like
q clarion. Iplunged on through the tan
gled vines, dense briars and rocky banks,
until gradually nearing, could perceive
a figure, W raped in an oil cloth cape or
cloak, ca rryinga a lantern. As the dim
light fell pom his face almost recoiled.
Would not solitude in the woods be pre-
ferable to the companionship of this
withered, wrinkled old man7 But it was
too late to recede.
"What's wanting ?" he snarled, with a
peculiar motion of the lips that seemed
to leave his yellow teeth all bare.
'I am lost in the woods; can you d.
rect me to R station p
eyes; R station is twelve miles from
here"
"Twelve miles ~ stood aghast.
eyes"
"Can you tell me of any shelter I could
obtain for the night ?"
sNo."
"Where are you going"
"To Drew's, down there by the Maple
Swamp"
els il q tavern 2"
"No"
"Would they take me for the night'
could pay them we'll p
His eyes cleaned; the yellow stump
sto cd revealed once more"
~ guess so; folks don't stop there"
cit is not far from heres"
''Not very about half a mile."
''Then make haste and let us reach it.
am drench ed to the skin"
We plodd.d along, my companion more
than keeping pace with me. Presently
we left the edge OF the ravine, entering
what seemed like trackless woods, and
keeping straight on until the light CLEAN
ed fitfully through the wet foliage,
| 1t was a ruinous old place, with the
| windows all drawn to one side, as if the
| found att on had settled, and the pillars o.
rude porch nearly rotted away.
A woman answered my fellowt ravel-
| er's knock. My companion whispered a
| word or two to her, and she turned to
! me with smooth -voluble words Of well
como.
She regretted tho poverty of their &C
| commodations, but I was welcome to
| them such as they were.
"Where is Isaac ?" dom anded my
! guide.
Gle has not come in yet"
81 sat down on a wooden bonch beside
| the fire, and ate a few mouthfuls of bread
"I should like to retire as early as pos
slble," said for my WEAKNESS was ex-
| cessive.
"Certainly" Tho woman started up
with alacrity.
"Where are you going put him9" ask
| ed the guide.
| cup chamb cr."
| "Put him in Isaac's room."
! sNo."
''It's the most comfortable"
| 81 tell you moi"
But here 1 interrupted the whispered
coloquy.
slam not particular; don't care where
| you lodge me, only make haste"
So was conducted up steep ladder
! that stood in the corner Of the room, into
an apartment, ceilcd with sloped beams
| and ventilated by one small window,
where a cot bedstead crowded close
against the board partition, and a pine
| table, with two or three chairs, formed
the sole attempts at furniture.
Tho woman set the light, an old lamp,
on the table.
"Anything more can give you sir ~
"Nothing, thank you."