The Middlebury register. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1850-1882, 1882-03-10
MIDDLEBURY; VT, MARCH 10, 1882


Of thing generally last g''
"Wa'sl, IL begins abaout noon to be
the worst. and 1t keeps it up till next
morning"
"Ought not the men to come up pref
ty soon% she asked again, with ill-con-
cealed anxiety.
"Oh yes. they'll be up directly, 1
guess"
Bot they did not come. Once Maud
saw three figdres creep around the
partially sheltered side Of the building,
but when they reached its front they
were struck down, and she saw them
crawl on their hands and knees back in
to the sheds. The full horror OF the
circumstance struck her. Calling Mr..
Little she told him what she had
seen.
"Then they must stay there till it is
over 7" she said, in low, unnatural
voice.
I'm afraid go" he answered,
anxiously.
DO try to help them," she pleaded,
80 earnestly that the men all resolved
to try, though 1t was OF so little use.
Taking rope Little tied all the volun-
teers firmly together even the +" howl
ing SWELL" Livingston, as George
called him, offered to help. When all
was ready they crept along the west
ern side Of the house with little diff
GUILTY But when they reached the
corner they went down like planks.
They tried again and again, and then
came back into the house tired and ex-
hausted.
The short afternoon had passed; the
early darkness made the terror OF the
storm more awful. Maud still strained
her eyes through the deepening gloom.
The storm at that moment was at its
height. Clutching the window frame
tightly with her fingers she pressed
her dilated eyes against the pane, and
saw with speeohless horror the roof OF
the large barn swept off as IL it had
been paper. 1t was all the moro ter
rible because not sound of the falling
timbers could be heard above the
ceaseless roaring OF the wind.
1t was an awful night. No one
thought Of sleeping. They clustered
together about the fire in silent terror.
From time TO time Mr.. Little spoke
reassuringly. There was no danger for
themselves, he said, the house was
firmly built; large beams passed diagon-
ally from floor to ceiling through the
partition walls; it was not possible that
they could give way. But the awed
hearts were not easily assured. Maud
alone had no thoughts for herself or
the safety OF the house. She had seen
the roodess barn, and she strove to pic
ture the fate of Thornton and the two
men with him, without food, without
fire, with no roof to shelter them, and
perhaps crushed by the falling timbers,
for il had been too dark to see the ex.
tent OF the disaster. She told no one
Of the sight which she had witnessed.
Only she and Little knew what had
happened. All that was best in her
came to the surface that long, agonizing
night. Never again could she silence
her better, nobler self. Very base and
contemplate seemed all her wiles, her
caprices, her coquetries. Ii had been
her wild folly that had placed Thora-
ton in this danger. II she had not de-
layed the men they could have returned
to the house before it Was too late. II
he were alive when morning dawned he
should know how bitterly she had re-
pented.
Sho remembered how she had tritied
with him when once the summer be-
fore he had told her that he loved her
more than he had ever loved any being
before or ever could again. She had
not meant to drive him away from her !;
she had only meant to tease him for q
little. But he had taken it all in
earnest, and now OF course he had
ceased to think OF her except to despise
her. II he had continued to love her
would he have been 80 silent? She
little knew that the man who was all
sincerity could not understand the in
sincere,
He would never care for her now, Of
course, and she loved him with all the
force OF her strong, ungoverned heart
After that night OF agony she could
never be the same.
The pale daylight dawned upon her
white face. The wind died slowly
down as the sun came up the troubled
sky. The ruin OF the night was re-
vealed to the weary watchers.
Three men came slowly up the hill,
tired, hungry, half frozen, but safe.
They had made comparatively warm
nest for themselves in the hay, where
they had passed the sleepless night.
The part Of the barn which sheltered
them and the cattle and horses had
been uninjured, and not a man or beast
had been hurt by the falling beams.
Mrs. Wellington could not be in
duced to remain an unnecessary mo-
ment in the terrible place, and late in
the afternoon the subdued party were
on the cars returning to Boston. Thorn
ton confessed that 1t was the most un.
comfortable night he had ever passed,
but that he would cheerfully have un-
dergone far greater hardships for the
reward that it brought him. Before
they had reached the city he had
learned Of the agony which the nights
suspense had been to Maud. and she
had acknowledged her love for him in
answer to the passionate reiteration OF
his devotion to her. And this was the
work of an East Blow.-Haper's Basdr.