The pioneer express. [volume] (Pembina, Dakota [N.D.]) 1883-1928, 1885-02-06

With this pleasant prospect, Doctor
sleep ~ :seundly rs ever
Rap, rap. rapf
Three blows from The knocker, struck
with firm hand, have this time added
their rattle to the noise of the storm.
Tho doctor, startled from his sleep. got
up in towering passion: On opening
his window the hurricane came in like
q whirlwind.
"'Tis for the cracknel-maker"-
"What, again that wretch?"
II am his mother"
"May his mother, wife, and daughter
all die with himl"
""Tis q fit"-
"Ay, and tight one, no doubt, "chuck-
led the doctor.
I'VE have little money" said the
old woman, IAN installment on the
hotise sold to Dsntrup, the drayman, of
Messagliefe Street. II you don't come,
my, granddaughter will be without q
father, my daughter without = husband
and myself without o son!"
It was heartrending and horrible to
hear the old bsgs voice, and to think
that the wind froze the blood in her veins,
and drenclled the very bones Under her
skin.
"a fit, say you? The fee two hum
dred fretzers;" rejoined the heartless
leech.
eve have but one hundred and
twenty"
GOOD night. then!" And once more
the window was closed.
On second thoughts, however, he
came to the conclusion that, for an hours
trot and half an hours attendance, one
hundred and twenty fretzers made sixty
fretzers an hour-6ne fretzer minute!
lt was small profit at best. but not quits
t0 be despised.
80, instead OF getting into bed, the
doctor slipped himself into his velvet
suit, hurried down stairs in pair Of
thick waterproof boots, muffled him
self up in large ovefcoat, put on his
gloves and sou'wester, and, leaving the
lamp lighted on the tablenear his Codcx
opened at page 1877, pushed open the
door of the Six-Four, and appeared on
the threshold.
The old crone was there, leaning on q
stick, her frame eihaciated by eighty
years Of misery.
The money! said he.
"Here; and may God return it hun
dred fold!"
"God?-the money of God7 Has any
one seen its color?"
The doctor whistled Hurzof, put
small lantern in the dogs mouth, and
bent his steps toward the sea. The old
hag trudged on behind:
Good heavens, what weatherl The
bells of Saint Philfilene sway to and
fro under the headlong fury of the
storm. an ominous portent, as we know.
But Doctor Trifulgus cschews all SUI
perstitious notions. The fact is, he
believes in nothing at oil. not even his
own science-except for what ii brings
him in. What weather, to be sure, and
what road! Nothing but shingle and
slag-the shingle slippery like sea- weed
and the slag crisp as clinker. And no
other light to see by than tremulous
flicker from Hurzofs lantern. At times
strange fantastic figures seemed TO
toss in the flames that swell from the
mouth of the Vanglor. There is really
no telling what lies at the bottom Of
those inscrutable craters. Perhaps the
souls of the underworld, that volatilize
on reaching our atmosphere.
The doctor and the old hag followed
the line of coast that runs in and out Of
the small bays along the shore. The
sea is ofa livid whiteness, and sparkles
as its billows hurtle the phosphores-
cent fringe of surf that seems to pour
wave on wave of glow worms upon tho
beach.
Thus both rush on till thev reach q
bend in the road between two swelling
downs. where the broom and sea.rusles
clash their blades together, like SO
many bayonets.
ter. and seems to say:
"Well, what think you? A hundred
and twenty fretzers to place under lock
and key in the safe! That's the way to
build up fortune! 'Tis another piece
of ground added to the vine enclosurel
Another dish added to the evening
meal! Another bowl of food for faith
full Hurzof! Nothing like attending
rich patients and loosening their purse.
strings"
At this point the old woman stopped.
She directed finger, which shook like
age. toward red light some way off in
the gloom-the house of Wort Kartif,
the cracknel-maker.
"There?" laconically put in the doc
tor.
Yes, responded the crone.
just then the Vanglor, vibrating to
its foundations with noise like t6un-
der, threw up a mass of fulig,nous
fame, that mounted to the zenith and
rent the clouds. Doctor Trifulgas was
thrown to the ground by the force of
the concussion. Regaining his footing,
he swore like . Christian, and looked
around. The beldam was gone. She
must have fallen through some deep
crevasse in the ground, or taken flight
on the floating fog-clouds OF ocean.
The dog, however was still there, up.
right on his launches, his mouth wide
open, and the light of the lantern blown
out
"Never mind; let's go on" mumbled
Doctor Trifulgas. The honest man has
pOcAeCcO tnc Ouo lluuOTeU ana twenty
fretzers, and must needs earn them.
A solitary light is alone visible in the
distance half . kertse away. It is
doubtless the lamp of the dying, or,
perchance, dead man, and yonder must
he the cracknel- makers house. There
can be no mistake, the old hag pointed
il out. And SO saying, with the noise
Of the storm in his ears, DR..
Trifuldas hurries on toward the
house, which, standing alone in the
midst of wide heath, is more distinct
ly perceptlble as the wayfarer ap-
proaches.
1t is singular and noteworthy fact
to observe how mnch the house of the
cracknel-msker looks like the doctors
Ski -Four, ct Luktrop; there is the same
arrangement in the front windows, and
the little vauited door at the side.
Doctor Trifulgas strides on as fast as
the driving gusts of wind and rain will |