The Warner weekly sun. (Warner, Brown Co., Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1885, 1885-09-11

expected some attempt at resistance;
but, to my surprise, he quietly acqui-
esced, saying: ,
"All right, guv'nor; it can't be 'elped
I've had my try, but summat told as
| wouldn't succeed"
1t was now getting late, and the sun
was lust down, so there was no time
to be lost, as we had a long way to
90, and | was rather doubtful about
my powers of carrying him, for he was
| or had been of q toltrable size and
weight: but now he looked such amere
bundle of bone, that | thought | might
manage it.. At any rate, there vas
nothing to do but to try; so | hoisted
him up on my back and started off III
the direction of Princess Town.
shall not easilyforget that journey;
it soon grew quite dark, as | tOlled on
over the lonely road, with frequent
halts to rest, while poor No.
400 grew weaker and weaker, and
his terrible cough more and more fire.
quent. We had gone, IsnppOse, about
three miles, when | began to feel that
it was quite impossible for me to aC-
complish the remaining distance, as it
was so dark that | stumbled painfully
over the rough path, and at each
stumble my burden groaned withpain,
and coughed so dismally, that felt
my well-meant endeavOrs were only
putting him to complete torture; so |
stopped, laid him on the grass, and
told him that we wouldnOt try to go
on till the moon rose. "All right,
guv'nor," said he, feebly, and fell back
fainting; so | administered the last few
drops of brandy | had left, covered
him up as we'll as Icould withmycoat,
propped his head upon my sketching
case, sat down by his side, and won
dered what would be the end Otmy ad-
venture.
Hooked at my watch and saw that
it was nine o'clock. ThemOOn, | knew
would not rise till nearly midnight, so
We had three hours to wait. | think
those three hours we're helongeot ever
passed in my life. The silence and the
loneliness of the moor were terrible,
and No. 492 lay with his eyes closed,
and, save for an occasional groan,
might have been dead. Once or twice
he tried to speak, but apparently it
"a beyond his powers, and he fell
back again exhausted. Once he put
out his hand, caught mine, and to my
great surprise, carried it to his lips and
kissed it. am not much used ohav-
ing my hand kissed at any time, and
should under any circumstan-
ces, feel the situation embarrassing;
but to have it kissed by a dying con-
Wet out on Dartmoor, in the middle
OF the night, was a novel experience.
/ did not mean to hurt the feelings
OF No. 400, but | drew it away some
what hastily; and then, seeing his
lips move, as if he was trying to say
something, | bent over him to listen,
and in a voice little more than awhis-
per, he said: Beg your pardon, sir;
but you have been precious kind to
me, and | feels weak and silly; didn't
mean no offense."
| FASTENED with some conjunction
to reassure him that | was not offend
ed; and again he closed his eyes; and
around us once more was silence.
At last, to my great Joy, the sky
frightened up a bit; the outlines ofthe
trees became more distinct and the
appeared over the hills, and
shot q flood of silver light all over
the moor. My spirits, which had fallen
below zero, revived considerably; dark
has at all times a depressing I'M
~1uence, and under my peculiar circum-
stances, had reduced meto Almost pro-
found melancholy. / felt quite gladto
see the moon rise, though, beyond the
fact of being able to see where we were,
it did not materially assist me out Of
thefix / was In.
/ looked at No. 492 and he seemed
to be asleep / did not like to wake
him, SO | got up quietly, intending to
walk to the top Of a hill close by,
and see If | could discover the lights os
Princess Town, or any house nearer,
to which | might direct my steps I
was not gone long perhaps half an
hour; and when / came back, / found
No. 400 with his eyes wide open, and
to my great surprise-though / don't
know why / should have been SO sur
prised-tears running down his cheeks.
Really, my ideas about convicts were
becomming qnite upset; N who fur
kissed my hand, and who wept
was, / thought, indeed an anomaly.
i bent over him and asked him il he
in worse pain, or what was the
matter. Poor fellow he lifted his
wasted hand, drew it across his eyes,
and said: No; / amt in no pain now,
sir; but ! woke from q bit of doze and
saw that you was gone; and / thought
as how you had left me; and somehow
/ felt lonesome and afeared'' and then
a great sob shook him."
/ assured him that was not going
to leave him, and6he appeared COM
forted. Then, after a pause, said: II
amt one as has been much afeared in
nay time, sir; but,somehow, now Ican't
clip it; it seems all of a tremble; audit
looks awful dark ahead of me, and i
be so weak / don't seem able to FACET
no-how.