Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1884-04-18


an opportunity to renew his suit.
Stanwood had allowed himself little
hope, but cultivated much determination.
He had found n very pleasureablo reci-
y procity of tastes and opinions in his ac.
/, qualntance with Fanny. Their differ
ences were few and rather pleasurably
variant than hostilely so. He had simply
been in her presence what he really was
lie had nothing to conceal his ingenu-
BUSINESS pleased her. Aud it did more
, She felt an indescribabe pleasure in his
presence, feebly sought ; but she did not
press the quest she had an instructive
dread of doing So Then there was Rem
wick Nichols. too. She liked him be-
cause he amused her. She could not
;pucrivo OF his really loving ] er or any
pthcr woman but yet, he seemed as
earnest as lie possibly could he. Some.
times she thought he really fnncied her
sister Ircnc--careless, unsentimental
Irene, who never could make religion of
love, but was content with attentions and
would not break her heart over anybody.
The sisters differed radically that was
the reason Fanny had said-"Not yet.
when Renwick leaned over her hand that
night on the moonlit gallery, half belcv-
ing that the conquest was easy.
There was hilarious time Mt the din
ner, which was taken al frcScO aud in all
kinds of attitudes, but it was like all such
woodland dinners, and leaving the elders
chatting under the trees and the fddcrs
drawing the dancers merrily to the chang.
ing figures again, we will follow two of
the guests down the path TO the spring
and out on the sands of the bayou. They
were Renwick Nichols and Fanny Che
nnrd. Harry Stanwood was dancing with
Irene Under the trees. Fanny looked
back to the gny dancers and saw him
| there.
| The afternoon shadows slanted across
the bayou as Fanny aud her companion
walked down tho ribbed beds of sands,
stopping occasionally TO gather flowers
which cleaned from the banks, or to
gather gay pebbles from beneath their
feet, almost in child fashion. There was
delicious lHn@uor in tho air, which was
laden with tho perfume OF the groat mag
nolla blossoms in the woods above, and
the two went along in the alluring way,
reach after reach, woocd by fresh attrac-
tons rs they turned each bend.
You said to me the other night" re-
marked Renwick, as he carelessly bit off
the end of cigar, "you said-'not yet :
did you mean that to-day was to be the
| limit of mot yet? Tell me. Miss Fan
ME"
''You seem to be very comfortable, Mr.
Nichols, with fate hanging over your
head"
But you have no al swered my ques-
| ton"
81 have not"
"Will you answer it o.
''Oh, you know y
81 remember that night YOU talked
about loving me, and you sad a good
many things ] am sure you did not
mean"
"Will you answer my question % said
Nichols, with some impatience.
''What if | say not yet, again -
Miss Chenard is capricious T.
"Not at all !"
81 tell you, Miss Fanny, that love
you and will give my life for YOU; indeed
l would. | am lonely at Midhurst.
and
lis it because you are lonely at Mid
hurst that you want me?'
''No, don't be crucl"-and Mr. Mich
! OILS bit his lip and switched the sand off
his pretty little foot with his riding whip.
He was impatient, and showed it.
Fanny smiled.
They walked along in silence for some
time. when her companion said
Il believe It is going to to rain.
There was sudden stiffness in the air,
and grayish mist was creeping over the
sky the shadows grew deeper in the
bayou and the greenery seemed mourning
for the withdrawn sun,
eve had better so back. said Fanny.
just as she said this she felt herfootng
to be insecure. \ few steps more and
she felt herself sinking into the sand. az
if drawn by some invisible hand.
con, Mr.. Nichols, the quicksond r.
II was cry of terror There flashed
across Fannys mind all the Southern
folklore she had heard about the mys-
teries of quicksard. She remembered
her old ''mammy story of her child
who had been drawn down into treacher-
GUS and hungry sands, which embraced it
like devil-tish and crushed the life ont
of it. She struggled to diseng0ge her
self she threw her arms wildly hither
and thither she was sinking: of that
she was certain.
The vision of the bright spring morn
ing and the smiling flowers and myriad
dewdrops glittering IN the Joyous sun
the merry throng in the woods Irene
laughing in indolescent redundancy all
this passed before her like a beautiful
dream.
Renwick Nichols had, at first. laughed
and extended his hand thinking lightly
of her cry. He had heard girls shrek
when treading upon toads or when get
ting their feet wet. Fanny grasped his
hand with a desperation which frightened
him. He took her by both her arms and
essayed to draw her to firmer ground
but it was useless his own footing was
becoming insecure. They stood on a bed
OF the most treacherous and relentless
qulcksand His own little well-shod feet
were going down, but lie threw himself
| out on the tirmer sand, and, using his full
strength, he pulled on the beautiful form
which was apparently disappearing. He
had never been in like situation before.
Fanny was up to her waist in the soft
oozy stuff and his strength was not sufli-
Gent to keep her from sinking He conld
swim; he was an expert in that art but
| nobody can swim in the sand.
Given pond and n young lady falling
| into 1T, and he would have plunged in
| the water with his boots on and drawn
her out without thinking ANYTHING of the
occurrence. But here they were two
miles from the picnic ground in place
II was not likely any help could reach
them, with the raindrops already begin
ming to fall and the consciousness that in
an hour or two the bed of the bayou
might be filled with roaring, dasiing
torrent of tawny water.g
He lay on his breast with both arms ex-
tended, hallooing with all his might
holding to Fannys wrist with the grip Of
a wise. A peal of thunder reverberated
through the woods and the lightning diff.
fused unearthly luminousness about the
bayou. VI"
LET me 60, cried Fanny "and get