Cheyenne transporter. [volume] (Darlington, Indian Terr.) 1879-1886, 1883-08-13

on at furious rate, no chance of II
stoppoge for some time to come, and
full wide-open gaze OF my motionless
companion not for one moment re-
moved from my face. 1t was unpleas-
ant certainly. If | changed my posi-
tios, face the window instead of her,
she must remove hereyes from my face
at last But there was n sort of fas-
cination about her and her look, which
preferred meeting to shirking, know
ing it was on me JAIL the time.
There was nothing for it, then, but
to give up all hope of sloep, and make
the best of my position and companion,
whom | now observed more closely.
That she was lady there could be
little doubt; there was that in her dress
and appearance that was unmistakable,
That she was pretty, there could be
little doubt either; those great dark,
intensely dark eyes. the thick coils of
warm FURNISHED hair, the small pale
features, seen dimly beneath the veil;
yes, she was young, pretty, lady, and
in trouble. SO far | got, but no fur
ther. How came she to be travelling
alone at that time of night, and with
that look on her facep What could it
be that she was holding pressed so
closely to her, and yet so carefully kept
out of sight? From the size and un-
certain outline, should have guessed
it to be child; but, then, there was
not the fqintest motion, nor could she
have held even II sleeping infant long
thing of curo9ity must have been be-
trayed in my look, for her own dark
ened and deepened into a perfect agony
of doubt and fear.
Ashamed, | withdrew my gaze at
once, and drawing out my notebook,
was about to make memorandum,
when with a sudden forward move
ment, she fell at my feet, arresting my
hard by the agonzed grasp of her own,
it's burning contact sending through
me painful thrill.
Don't betray me! Don't give me
up to him! o don't! am SO fright
enedr
1t was but a whisper, breathed out
rather than spoken, yet IL shuddered
through me like cry.
81 cannot always hide it! | cannot
always bear it about with me; it breaks
my heart and-I am so tired.
And letting the hand which still held,
pressed closely to her, the mysterious
burden that had SO raised my curiosity
drop heavily to her side, there lay at
her feet and mine little dead baby,
tiny creature evidently not mauy
weeks old.
Then the woman threw up her veil,
and, Withdrawing her eyes for the first
time from mine, clasped her hands be-
fore her, her figure thrown slightly
back and looked down upon it. A
pretty picture; the poor young mother,
with her pale child's face and deep
mourning dress; the wee baby, gleam-
ing SO white in its death and baby robe
against the heavy Grape skirt on which
it lay-a pretty picture certainly for a
railway carriage and lighted by its dim
midnight lamp.
"Dead!' was my involuntary excla-
nation.
She stretched her clasped hand
downward toward it with deSpairing
gesture, speaking with low, wild, rapid
utterance.
at was not his look that killed it.,
but my love. He hated it, my baby,
my tirst-born; for all the love | gave
him, he hated it; and that his look
might not kill il, held it in my arms,
SO close, SO close, til it was dead. Oh,
my baby, my baby!'
The outstretched hands had reached
it now, and raised it from the floor to
the seat, folding it around until the en-
closing arms and the down-bent face
hid it once more out of sight.
Was ever luckless traveller more
awkwardly placedP-the dead child;