Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1881-07-03
nearer and nearer to that dread

ence of mind or Self-cOntrOl, for l am
outwardly calm enough as l go to the
nursery and say quietly to the nurse that
wish she would go down stairs and get
me cup of tea. When she is gone turn
to Dot and send her down to the draw
ing-room to say am going to lie down
with a headache The chlld-runs off and
the moment has arrived.
In the wardrobe hangs nurses long,
black cloak with its heavy hood. Snatch
it from the peg, dart away, and creep
ing cautiously to Gerry's room, take re-
volver from it's case. We have been
practicing every day and l know | am a
good shot. hst
may want it this evening, think, as
with cold hands hide it, and slip away
down the back stairs, unseen by anybody,
and run as fast as my feet will carry me
through the shrubs, and reach the avenue
by path that is unseen from the draw
ing room windows.
Once outside the gate put on the long
cloak, and with the hood over my head l
fly as if for my life along the white, hard
road, my fingers tightly clutching the
revolver.
The life of the man l loved better than
| life was safe, but if had sacrificed Gerry
for him!
Was it wrong? scarcely know; on and
on, walking and running, feeling like one
always feels in a terrible dream, utterly
unable to get on, running and stumbling,
struggling every nerve to be on time
A long way off now can see the old
limekiln, and my heart gives one wild
bound as further on beyond that, Just
where the road winds, l see a solitary
horseman, and know that it is Gerry all
unconscious, riding home.
Which of us will reach the spot first?
am the nearest, but dare not run now for
l might be seen.
The cloak hides me we'll Who would
notice country girl passing along this
| lonely country road?
| A little further on, and can recognize
Gerry quite we'll, and the gray horse.
| He is coming so fast, trotting, and am
almost screaming out as see him COM
| ing faster and faster, and l am far away
yet from the limekiln.
It must be all over in a minute, either
way.
l am running now, shaking with fear
and excitement, and who piqued myself
GA being a good shot, know that my
| trembling hands couldn't hit hay-stack
now. Oh, heavens! they are waiting for
him; see head cautiously peeping from
behind the old wall, and | draw nearer
| the hedge. God give me strength nowl
On he comes, poor Gerry, cantering on
the grass at the side of the road.
| Little he dreams that there are murder
ers lying in wait as he comes nearer and
nearer, and never notices me as | fly for
dear life toward him; but cannot get to
| the limekiln first.
| He has won the race!
"Gerry!'' shrek, and run out into the
middle of the road and wave him back.
GERRY, Gerry go back!'
| On he comes; can see his face: and L
oh heavens, for little more strength
Spent, breathless, exhausted with run
ming, it is very hoarse cry that breaks
from my lips, and then
Oh, if | live to be hundred must see
| it all then as l see it now.
| A shot fired, and then a horse dashed
riderless away, and Gerry lying on his
face on the road, quite still, and over the
white fields man running like the
wind
GERRY, Gerry!''
And like one bereft of reason l fall
prone beside him, and wild with agony
unspeakable, hide my face, for my BROTH
er is dead, and it is my fault; 1t seems to
me long time, but believe it is only
moment or two after all, till feel Gerry
struggling and getting upon his feet, and
hear him say:
ssThank God!" under his breath.
Not dead-not hurt.
"Mab?" he cries, as lift my head and
| look at him, twhat brings you here, and
what on earth does it all mean?"
Mine is a gasping, incoherent story,
! but Gerry's face f1ushes as he listens.
eBrave GIRL" he whispers fondly.
"You saved me, Nab. 1 thought you
were some MAD woman, but your cry
must have frightened that wretch, for the
shot never touched me-"
| "You are sure, Gerrv?"
eyes; Pm not touched. The horse
SHE'D and pitched me off, and supposed
was stunned for second''
And then his cheeks grow suddenly
white.
eTo think they should have tried to
murder me. Nab, it was a very close
shave.''
| eyes" whisper, broken1y. ooh Ger
ry, dear, if 1 hadn't been in time"
| And fall to sobbing and crying as if
my heart would break.
"Come, Nab, old woman, don't break
down now, for you were so plucky be-
fore; and say, here comes Tremaine on
the horse 1 wonder what he will say to
it all''
He says very little, but listens in silence
as Gerry gives very excited account of
the narrative, and 1 never once look in
his direction, but cling to Gerry's arm
with downbent face, down which the
| tears are falling.
When it is all told, Colonel Tremaine
draws long breath, and looks quickly
around.
(which way did the man go?"
! Then l speak:
"You could never overtake him; he has
been gone for ten minute for more. Gerry
don't try. but 60 for the police.''
"Mab Is right; it would only be wild
goose chase. Tremaine, will you take
NAB home, and will ride on at once and
let the police know about this work."
| So Gerry rides on, and we two are left
standing, with no sound but the retreat
| ing beat of the horses hoof.
"Mab, why didn't you let me help you?
You rsked your own life, and might not
l booo bJo 70 covo hio