St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1881-04-29

1t was weird game OF hlue-and-
seek the dark figure with the ugly
face covering among the wheels, listen
ing with a strange kind of savage fear
to the light footsteps that sounded now
here, now there; he heard them climb
the ladder and patter about in the loft
overhead, then come down again, and
the vOice-not so merry nOw-repeat
her assurance of finding the truant, and
sudden desire entered his brain to
spring upon her and choke her. 1t
would not be the first time he had done
such a deed, but her perfect audacity
seemed to paralyze him, and again she
passed him all unconscious. He saw her
pause in the doorway, dimly outlined
against the sky, and then disappear
down the path.
''Ef she amt the pluckiest un - he
grOwled, as he crept from behind the
carriage. Hanged eff she amt ghost
or suthin." And with this peculiar com
shook himself and made his way out of
the barn with a sidelOng gate, as if he
was used to Sinking in and out of
places.
Mrs. Cuthbert sped on to the house,
her steps hastened by the idea that her
husband might be there-perhaps he
had slipped out of the barn while she
was up in the loft, or perhaps he had
not gone into the barn ut all.
Alas for her hopes! The sitting room
was empty and just as she had left it.
Not despairing yet, she snatched up
the lamp and determined to search the
house. From room to room she went,
calling upon George, and looking into
every closet and behind and under ev-
cry article of furniture, but not a
glimpse of her husband gladdened her
eyes, and at last she sat down by the
baby's cradle and burst into tears.
"Oh, how can he be so cruel !" she
sObbed. land for such little thing. He
might have known | was only in fun !;
but maybe he's only in fun bimself, and
will come in soOn.n
Cheered by this last reflection, she
trotted briskly down stairs, stirred the
fire into blaze, and stood watching it,
too fidgety to settle to her sewing
again. The wood famed noisily, then
glowed a silent red, then crumbled and
fell, an uDtidy, dreary mass of whitened
ashes and dying emberS, and still her
husband ulu not come.
The clock struck nine, and Mrs. Cuth-
bert looked at it reproachfully, as if it
was the time-piece's fault that it was SO
late. Where acdS her husband Per-
haps he was wandering about in the
dark, unable to find the house. Why
hadn't she thought of that before She
would put a lamp in every room.
And in a few minutes lights were
twinkling from all the windows, giving
the little cottage quite gay and festive
air. Who could have guessed that a
lonely woman and a sleeping child were
its sole occupants Not the dark figure
with the ugly face, doubled up under
the lilac bushes that bordered the gray
cl-path.
As the hours wore on, another dark
figure Joined the one of the ugly face,
and was greeted with an oath upon his
laZincss, and the information that "some
thing WAS up" that the first chance was
''spiled,n and they would have to ''Iay
to while;" and then both the dark
figures. with many a curse and shiver,
crouched together, hiding their time.
Poor Mrs. Cuthbert as the night crept
on wandered from window to window,
with the vague feeling that if she could
not see her husband from one she might
from another. Sometimes she stood at
the door, listening intently, and cOnjur
ing every breath of wind into the long
ed for footsteps, her heart dying within
her at each fresh disappointment. She
must have walked miles in that small
house; the baby waXed restless, and
she was up many times to replace the
coverings that the sturdy little legs had
thrown off in climbing the invisible
mountain that Il child is always ascend
ing in his sleep.
The clock struck one. How like the
voice of fate it sounded ! 1t was not at
all the cheerful thing that when the sun
was shining, had announced the dinner
hour that day.
\ distant dog barked, and Mrs. Cuth-
bert rushed to the door; she had re-
Sumed her sewing to keep herself from
going distracted, and she still clasped
it in her hand. What black, black
night! and how cold the wind was
Hark she was certain she heard voices
10y the gate. Yes; she did. Just then
the baby began to cry, and only stop
ping TO call back, ''In a moment, dar-
ling she plunged down the walk.
All was silent; there was no one
there. She stood with her hand upon
the gate few seconds. looking eagerly
up the road, and then walked SLOWLY
back to the house.
As the front door closed the lilac bush
10y the gate quivercd, and two dark fig
ures crawled from under it.
When Mrs. Cuthbert laid the baby in
his cradle, after singing him back to the
invisible mountains, the clock struck
two, and Mrs. Cuthbert looked hope
lessncss in the face.