The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1883-11-22

most night, and the rain fell steadily.
When ut length i, too, turned to leave
the place, caught sight of something
he must have dropped from among his
papers lying Mt my very feet. L picked
it up and slipped it into my pocket with
the address he had written. would
have run after him, but that he walked
so fast he was now far beyond call.
So went home, and, entering softly
through the wood shed, prepared the
tea.
L was more uneasy and feverish than
ever; but tried to listen patiently while
father described a new rose he was
growing as an experiment. Occasion
ally comforted myself with squeezing
my pocket to find the precious address
safely hidden there.
Presently father took up his weekly
paper, and / carried the tea things into
the kitchen, where halted for refiec-
ton. 1t occurred to me that the letter
he had dropped might be of import
ance to him while at Jonesville, and
if so / must send it DO him at once L
took it out to see. 1t was queer let
ter; could not find the postmark. /
did not like the handwriting; but L
opened and read it.
L cannot well describe how strange /
felt as L read slowly down the first
page and turned the sheet to continue.
Such feelings are indescribable. AS
nearly as / remember, it was, at first, a
dull stupidity which seemed TO envelop
my mind so thoroughly that L needed
to read the opening sentence half
dozen times or more ere comprehend
ing. After this came i. q strong, cold
shudder of mortal fear and agony,
which lasted many moments; then
quiet, absolute quiet in every nerve and
fiber except the heart, which beat with
clear regularity, like calm voice de-
vising and arranging.
Now, L knew all some mysterious
veil was removed and L saw with acutest
vision.
] knew what my lover was involved
in, what he purposed, and where he
had gone tonight. L knew that my
father had judged Claude's companions
correctly-that they were vagabonds,
villains, who had planned to wreck the
night-express at the great curve, before
it could have reached the village.
At the great curve! Oh, God! /
could picture the scene. The heavy
logs laid close across the track, the
swift rush, the crash, the overturning
coaches pitching and piling into the
ravine-the shrieks, perhaps the flame
the awful doom of the innocent and
helpless
And what madness TO think that
vengeance would not quickly fall upon
such deeds. No doubt, no doubt they
had made him-Claude-th merest
tool, and would manage their owl
escape in some way, leaving him to the
hands of village Justice. Ours was
quiet town, but what place would not
rouse at this fiendish work. Mobs,
ropes, tree-limbs-oh, could L do moth
! ing? God in Heaven" L moaned,
"Aid me, give me strength"
L ran to the clock. 1t was long past
7, and the train should reach the
village before 9, if on time. l prayed
it might be late, for L had miles and
miles to go in the night and the storm,
glanced into the sitting room; father
was asleep in his charlie often dozed
thus through the entire evening L
trusted his sleep would last, or he
would think l had gone up to my bed
room, if he wakened.
L caught little jacket from the wall
and slipped it on; no hat or bonnet,
though-the less burdened the better.
thrust some matches in my pocket,
and found the lantern hanging in the
woodshed. shook it and knew there
was oil enough.
Then L started.
tried to run steadily, with lips
| tight shut, to waste no breath. L did
not light the lantern, for must not be
seen. Nor did L fear running blindly
onward since L knew the road-on this
side the village at least. Sometimes L
almost flew; sometimes L stumbled into
puddles, and felt the water soaking
through my shoes.
If only L could reach there in time
L chose the darkest street of the vii
lage, when at length that far, slacken-
ing speed until out again upon the road
beyond.
1t would not have served me to rouse
the station-master, for telegraphing
would not avail, since the train would
have left the nearest station where there
was an operator. Beside, could trust
any one with this secret? Nay; must
manage with my own strength and
prayers.
Still on madly, wildly! There was a
sharp pain in my chest, but it should
not check me. God would surely help
me on; He would not let me die till L
had accomplished this task.
At last / struck the railroad at q road
crossing, and thenceforth followed it,
running as best / could between the
tracks.
/ remember the wet cinders cringing
under my feet thu rank weeds, un-
harvested by frost, and the burrs that
gathered on my skirts.
remember feeling that 1 must be
near the awful spot, where lay the
death-line of low-piled logs.
But, oh, God be thanked if / had
come in time
just for second l stopped and tried
| to push the obstacles from the track.
The strength of two men was needed,
and WAS breathless.
/ opened the lantern and struck q