Morning journal and courier., 1881-04-28

 And now another figure appeared upon the
 scene, another and taller young girl, en- veloped in long waterproof cloak, whose hood was drawn over her head. She glided silently down the same path, in the same manner, keeping her eyes upon her predecessor, as if she were ''shadowing" her-as indeed she was.
 The first girl wound her sinuous way down
 the mountain side to the very foot of the ridge and edge of the river, between which and herself lay the tracks of a very recently laid railroad, whose trains, twice a day, awoke l the awful echoes of the towering rocks. Here she sat down fallen boulder, let her shawl drop from her form and lay in heap around her, clasped her hands upon her knees and turned her woeful young face up to the starlit heavens, as if help for her hid- den grief were there. Then she looked vaguely at the little cres- cent of the moon that was sinking slowly be- hind the cedar crowned summit of the west ern ridge. She watched it out of sight, and
 then let her glance slowly drop to the river at her feet. Gazing on the low river, she be- gan to mutter to herself as only the crazed or half craZed ever do
 'If dared-if dared, " she whispered, her eyes dilating as she gazed down upon the ! river, whose shining, smooth dark surface re- fected every star above. 'tIf only dared to
 take the plunge They say the Umbra here | has no bottom, at least none that has ever l here how many tlmes-how many times; | but have never had the courage to take that | plnuge! What does the poet say? Who would not choose The leap attaihing the repose? Oh but cannot-I cannot Oh for one brief | fit of madness to give me courage to end 1t | alto end it all with me-who am afraid to l die, and more afraid to live. The demon has
 driven me to this river's brink, night after l night, but he has never driven me into It. AH-H-H" she suddenly cried, starting to her 1 feet. What is that?"
 It was the noise of the rushing express | train from the north, gaining force and ! volume as it sped onward, it's thunders | caught up by the echoes of the rocky cliffs on | each side the river, and hurled back and l forth with an overwhelming uproar that I filled the valley, and seemed to threaten With ann1hilation every living creature in it. The girl, standing up, gazed, Dreathless, upon the rushing m onster, whose fiery eyes ! and believing breath were almost upon her. She pressed her left hand hare upon her | heart, and bent forward, her lips apart, her \ eyes dilated to their utmost capacity, and | blazing fercely, with the suddenly klndled ! fires of madness.
 Another instant, and with frenzied yell ' she threw her arms on high, and, swifter than | an arrow from the bow, she shot down. wards from the bank and threw herself head long upon; the track, under the very head Of I the rushing engine.
 l But swifter than the arrow was the arm of love, as the watcher sprang forward and flung | her off, both falling back from the impetus clear of the track, just as the express train l thundered onward, shaking the solid founda- tions of the mountains as it passed. l At last there was silence. l Both girls, motionless, exhausted, half para ! lyzed, lay together where they had fallen. ! The elder, with every vein and artery throb- l ping, as if they would burst with intense ex- \ citement, still clutched theyounger in her ! arms, and held her as in death-grip. Both | were anic-stricken, overwhelmed and speech less.
 ! The deliverer was the first to recover her | self
 ''Were you mad?" she whispered, ,.in a | husky and almost inarticulate voice. ! "Yes-mad," moaned the other, after & 1 pause.
 ''Oh, aoAy did you do it?" | 'I have told you-I was mad.''
 There was silence for few moments, and then the elder spoke again, gravely and ten | derly.
 I ''Bevvie. what drove you to desperation?" ! q cannot tell you! Oh, I can never tell
 you! I wish you had not stopped me! It ! would have been all over by this time, " moaned the girl called Bevvie | "'An over!' 7"
 'sYes, yes, yes,- yes.'' walled the girl, rock ing herself back and forward-''for I should 1 have been out of all my misery! Ora! Ora!
 Why did you follow me? Why did you inter- fere with mel"
 "I have watched you for weeks; I have followed you for days, am responsible to I the Lord for you; was in duty bound to
 save you, even if had not loved you as do,
 ungrateful child!"
 | "Oh, if you knew.-f you knew, Ora!- An! why did you interfere? It would have l been all over now. and should have been I mast All my troubleS!'' walled Bowie. | ''You say that againl And 1t is false! All ! over?' Past your troubleT Foolish girl! you would have been before your Maker for | self murder, You would have exchanged I temporal grief for eternal wool" exclaimed the elder, in tone of intense emotion. | sOh no, hope not for aoas mad then, Ora. was mad then; indeed I was. I had | not thought of doing that act one minute be- | fore I did it! But the rush of the engine, the ! thunder of the noise, the uproar of the echo,
 the fiery eye, the flaming breath, the vision I of swift and sudden death, all fascinated, meddened me as I stood alone in the dark, ! and drew me down to the destruction from | which you snatched me!'
 And yet you seem deeply to regret being saved, and you bitterly reproach me for saving | you You are inconsistent, Bevvie! But that too is q symptom of an unsound mind! Come ! with me! I do not know-I cannot even hazard conjecture as to the nature of the grief that has unsettled you. You have
 steadily refused to tell me. But to night I am determined to know! for am in the place of mother to you. Bowie, and l am responsi-
 ble to the Lord for your well-being. Can you
 walk up the steep?"
 ''Oh, yes, I can walk" sighed the younger girl.
 ''Take my arm, then and do not hesitate to lean on it with all your weight,' said Ora lifting the heavy shawl from the ground, ] where Bowie had cast it, wrapping and pin ming it carefully around the girls form, and
 then tenderly supporting her steps as they ! left the spot.
 And so the foster mother of twenty one and ! the adopted daughter of sixteen re- e-ascended | the mountain path to their home, where the dread secret which had driven Bowie to tenn | porary madness was to be revealed. The
 above is the opening chapter of Mrs. South I worth's new story-E'A Leap in the Dark''-
 which is begun in this weeks New York Ledger. The story, as the reader may see 1 from this specimen of it, is a very powerful ! one. It is narrative of events that occurred 1 in Maryland and Virginia many years ago. | when everyday life was wild and romantic l in the mountain regions of those States. Mrs l Southworth has written many good stories,
 but she herself thinks that this is one of her ! very best. Ask for the Ledger dated May 7, l which can now be had at any news office or | book store.
 Important. When you visit or leave New York city, | save baggage expressage and carriage hire,
 and stop at the Grand Union Hotel, opposite
 Grand Central depot, 45O rooms, fitted up at
 a cost of one million dollars, reduced to $1
 and upwards per day. European plan. Ele- vator Restaurant supplied with the best. Horse cars stages and elevated railroad to all depots. Families can live better for less money at the Grand Union Hotel than at any other first class hotel in the city. Fire