River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1882-12-07

StrOY MIN, DuG Tie SWEEP lace OF Lily
De We're, whom he loved She had
knelt at Cromwell's feet and pleaded
for his life. She had wearied heaven
with her prayers, but all without avail.
Slowly now the great sun went down.
Slowly the last red rim was hid behind
the greenwood. Thirty seconds more
and his soul would be with his God.
The color did not forsake his cheeks.
The dark rings of hair lay upon warm
brow. 1t was his purpose to die as
martyrs and brave men die. What was
life that he should cling to it? He al
most felt the air pulsate with the first
heavy roll of the death knell. But no
sound came. Still facing the soldiers
with hisclear gray eyes upon them, he
waited. The crimson banners in the
west were paling to pink. The kline
had ceased their lowing, and had been
gathered into the brick-yards.
All nature had sounded her curfew;
but old Jasper was silent!
The bell-ringer, with his gray head
yet barred, had traversed half the dist
ance that lay between his cottage and
the ivy covered tower, when form
went fitting past him, with pale, shad-
owy robes floating around it, and hair
that the low western lights touched and
tinted as with halo.
"Ah, Huldah, Huldahl" the old man
muttered; show swift she flies I will
come soon, dear. My work is almost
done" Huldah was the good wife,
who had gone from him in her early
womanhood, and for whom he had
mourned all his long life. But the
fleeing form was not Huldah's, it was
Lily De We're, hurried by sudden and
desperate purpose toward the cathedral.
$50 help me God, curfew shall not
ring tonight Cromwell and his dra.
goons come this way. Once more /
will kneel at his feet and plead"
She entered the ruined arch. She
wrenched from its fastenings the
carved and worm-eaten door that
barred the way to the tower. She as
cended, with flying and frenzied feet,
the steps; her heart lifted up to God
for Richards deliverance from peril.
The bats flew out and shook the dust
of centuries from the black carvings.
AS she went up she caught glimpses OF
the interior of the great building, with
its groined roof, its chevrons and clus-
tered columns,@ its pictured saint and
carved image of the Virgin, which the
pillagers of ages had spared to be dealt
with by time, the most relentless van
dial OF all.
Up--still up-beyond the rainbow
tints thrown by the stained glass across
her deathwhite brow; up-stiH up
past open arcade and arch, with griffin
and gargoyls staring at her from under
bracket and cornice, with all the hid
eousness and medieval carving, the
stairs, flight by fight, growing Trailer
beneath her young feet; now but
slender network between her and the
outer world; but still up.
Her breath was come slow and gasp
ing. She saw through an open space
old Jasper cross the road at the foot of
the tower. Oh, how farl The seconds
were treasures, which Cromwell, with
all his blood-bought commonwealth,
could not purchase from her. Up-ahi
there, just above her, with its great
brazen mouth and wicked tongue, the
bell hung.
Aworm- eaten block for step and
one small white hand had clasped itself
above the clapper-the other prepared,
at the tremble, to rise and clasp its
mate, and the feet to swing off-and
thus she waited. Jasper was old and
slow, but he was sure, and it came at
last. A faint culver, and the young
feet swung from their rest, and the
tender hands clasped for more than
their life the writhing thing. There
was grooming and creaking of the rude
pulleys above, and then the strokes
came heavy and strong. Jasper's hand
had not forgotten its cunning, nor his
arm its strength. The tender, soft form
was dashed to and fro. But she chung
to and caressed the cold, cruel thing.
Let one stroke come, and thousand
might follow-for its fatal work would
be done. She wreathed her white arms
about it, SO that every pull of the great
ropes crushed into the flesh. 1t tore
her, and wounded and bruised; but
there in the solemn twilight the brave
woman swung, and fought with the cur
few; and God gave her victory.
The old bell-ringer said to himself:
aAye, Huldah, my work is done. The
pulleys are getting too heavy for my
old arms. My ears, too, have failed
me. / dinna hear one stroke of the
curfew. Dear old bell, it is my ears
that have gone false, and not thou.
Farewell, old friend
And just beyond the worn pavement
shadowy form again went fitting past
him There were drops of blood upon
the white garments; and the face was
like the face of one who walked in her
sleep, and the hands hung wounded and
powerless at her side.
Cromwell paused with his horsemen