Northwest enterprise. [volume] (Anacortes, Wash. Ter.) 1882-1887, 1883-02-17
ANACORTES, W.. T, SATURDAY, FEBRUARY II

have, you have some faint idea of the
state of mind in which Mrs. Martin
with far other interests at stake
passed the time. until an old clock on
the chimney piece told one hour after
midnight. Another source OF anxiety
now presented itself-the fire had
nearly burnt out. Her dizzy eyes
could scarcely see the floor, as she
bent with fearful attention over the
head of the bed-the terrible moose
hanging like the sword of Damocles
above the gloomy aperture.
what" she thought, 'if he delay
his appearance until the light has
completely died away Will it then
be possible for me to adjust the scarf
to do the deed-to kill the assassin
to save myself and my child? Oh,
Godl deliver1hi into my hands, l
beseech thee!
A cautious movement below-the
dragging of hands and feet along
the foor-a heavy, suppressed breath
ing-announced that the supreme
moment was near at hand. Her
white arms We're barred to the
shoulder; her hair fell wildly around
her face, like the name of lioness
about to leap down upon its prey:
the distended orbits of her eyes
glared down on the spot where the
question of life and death was soon
to be decided. Time seemed inn
measurably heightened out-every
second assumed the proportions of an
hour But at last-just as all lines
and forms began to float before her
sight through a medium OF blended
light and darkness, black mass in
terposed between her eyes and the
floor. Suspense being over, the time
of action having arrived, everything
seemed to pass with magical rapidity.
The robber thrust his head cautiously
forward. Mrs. Martin bent down.
There was a half choked cry-the
sound of knife falling on the floor
"a convulsive struggle. Pull! pull!
Mrs Martin heard nothing--saw
nothing but the scarf passing over
the head of the bed between her two
naked feet. She had half thrown
herself back, aid holding her scarf
with both her hands, pulled with des-
perate energy for her life. The con-
flict had begun; and one or the other
must perish. The robber was a pow
erful man, and made furious efforts
to get loose; but il vain. Not a
sound escaped from his ips-not a
sound IRON hers. The dreadful trag-
edylwasyenacted in silence. d
well, Mother Guerard," cried a
young man, leaping out of carriage
that stopped before the door of the
duberge the next moring, what
news have you for me? Has my
mother arrived7"
els it your mother" replied the
landlady, who seemed quite good
humored after her nights rest. |
There's lady upstairs waiting for
some friends; but she does not speak |
French easily, and seemed unwilling
to talk. We could scarcely persuade |
her to go to bed.
"Show me the roomw cried Arthur,
running into the house.
They soon arrived before the door.
"Motherl motherw cried he, but
received no answer.
"The door is only latched. for we
have no robbers in this part of the
country said the landlady.
The first object that presented it
self was the face of the robber, up
turned from under the bed. and with
protruding tongue and eyeballs; the
next was Mrs. Martin in the position
we left her. She was in deep swoon.
her hands still grasping the scarf.
The child was crying and trying to
arouse her mother. The intrepid
woman was brought back to con-
seriousness, but weeks elapsed before
she regained her usual health,
strength. ard consciousness.
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