The Saline County journal. [volume] (Salina, Kan.) 1871-1893, 1881-12-29
M llEaalfr.s pAuatTEe.

l
A wild, rock bound coast; here an
there great lichen-covered bowldei
lift their heads above the eeaseless
tumultuous WISH Of the pillows.
High up upon the cliffs is perchej
slim, girlIsh figure, her hands light
crossed about her knees, and her dnfl
face, with fts great, restless gray eye:
looking fAr out over the water. Tn
fAce II one that, once seen, can no
soon Be forgotten, and 50 thinks an
other, who, from . sheltered nook, ha
been watching for some moments til
quiet figure.
The shadows of evening are fallin;
fast even now the sun, just vsnishin;
In the west, II fiinging out into the SIX!
It's farewell banners of crimson ant
gold. Yet still the girl sits motion
less, with that strange, yearning lool
upon her young face which fret at
tracted the watchers attention.
At last he abandoned his post Of oh
servation and strolls away down thu
moss-covered shelves of rocks, picking
his way slowly and carefully, in tins
uncertain light, along the dangerous
path.
Suddenly he trips and catches him
self; but with the next false step his
foot slips into a crevice, and sharf
twinge at his ankle tells him he must
have sprained it. "What shall l dc
In this out-of-the-way place with a
sprained ankle?" ne ruefully thinks
vainly trying to draw his foot from
where it is held in the rocks Jagged
embrace. He finds that he Is fast, and
then he bethinks him of the maiden
In her serie perch.
Raising his voice q loud call rings
through the silence, and light foot
ste,s approach.
~ fear that my foot is seriously
hurt" he says. Is there any place
near where I can stop over night?
think by morning 1t will be all right,
II l keep quiet ut first"
The injured member has been deity
drawn out by strong, plant fingers
even as he speaks, though not without
causing him to utter al exclamation of
pain.
MY house is not very far off, the
girl replies, land, though my father
Is not fond of harboring strangers, l
am sure he will shelter you tonight
for PHYS sake"
Guy rises and essays to walk, but it
Is evidently no easy matter.
Lean on me, sir" says the girl,
vibrating, musical voice and correct
language which strikes him rs strange
in an inhabitaEt of that rude, uncul-
tured region.
Guy glanced at the slight arm ex-
tended to him, and then down at his
ewn athletic form with a half smile.
~ am stronger than 1 look, sir.
Try"
Thus urged, lie rests his hand upon
her shoulder, aud finds she speaks
truly; and, with frequent pauses, and
leaning heavily upon his guide, he
manages to reach her rude stone
dwelling.
An old man, Drowned with expos
ure to the sun. and with long, white
hair hanging over his shoulders, stands
in the lighted doorway, peering down
the path. He hears the approaching
steps. .
+" You are late, child. What kept
your" Then he sees the stranger.
Whom have you here?" he says,
sharply, with sudden, noticeable
change i'm his voice, from fond solici-
tude to displeasure.
"A gentleman, father, who has
fallen upon the rocks and hurt him
self
Guy Erceldoune lifts his hat cOur-
teously to the weird, rough looking
man before him.
"Sir, but for your daughter ] should
even now be in painful duyance vile
Will you not complete the good work
she has begun by allowing me nights
shelter?"
Whether il is that the courtly bow
and polite address call up reminis-
cences of the past, or that the charm
Of the frank voice and handsome face
impresses him, old Simon las he Is
called i'm the region arOund), with a
low mutter, which can hardly he call.
ed assent, yet is not denial, turns and
leads the way in. Guy follows, long
ing to rest his foot, which now pains
him acutely. The boot is gently
drawn off, and small, soft fingers
bathe and bandage his ankle: Then
the girl, whose name he learns j. e.
vie, moves around the room and pre-.
pares frugal II. al, which is partaken
now and then curiOusly Mt his host,
who eats with gloomily downcast eyes,
and from him to the beautiful dark
face OF his daughter. In his own mind
he soon satisfies himself that the man
IL one of those misanthropical beings
who, forsaking the ~vorld, live in a
of their own choosing.
His sprain proves more serious than
Guy has expected, and the next morn
ing finds him unable 10 move from
the shelter of old SimOn's roof
The hermit ut first looks surly
but when he sees il can not
be helped he resigns himself to cir
and after a time, n he
listens, apparently unheeded, to Guys
conversation and anus
ing anecdotes of that outer world
which is to him q sealed volume of the
past, his gloomy cOuntenance softens
A few days go by, and, evidently
much to Elvie's surprise, her father,
instead of spending the evening porting
over his musty books, draws his chair
near their guest and takes part i'm their
A sprained ankle seems a trifling
lining, but II often proves very trouble
some, and ErceldOune's long walk did
not do his injury any good. So he is
still obliged to keep perfectly quiet.
TO tell the truth, 1t Is no irksome thing
for him, for fate has never before
thrown in his path one who so puz-
lies, battles and bewitches him as does
this simple maiden, with her lovely,
refined face and rude dress and sur
Elvie and her fathers guest have
many leng talks. The girl, with her
impulsive actions and unrestrained
delight, as she listens to his stories of
the great world she has never known,
seems q mere child; but her exquisite
form, daintily rounded i'm the truest
and her face. with its ever
changing eyes, is q wOman's.
More than q week has gone by, and
now Guy thinks that he will he able
20 use his foot He tells Elvie and her
father 80.
Old Simon filings back his long white
lair with sudden movement and
starts to speak, then hesitatcs. Finally
ne says:
stranger $50 he calls him" in
he short time have known you l
navel tn trust you" He says the
word "trust with strong eiipha-isl.
. I had thought never to believe in
outside Of these walls again /;
,ut / field that you are worthy Of con-
idence, and would not stOop to dis
action. Stay Vas Guy
attempts to speak-"yOu wonder why
ssy this. Let me tell you. have
rot Always been as YOU gee me- Years