Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1885-02-05
gu 0riginal Storg.
Written for the Yorkvile Enquirer.
WHO WAS MAUD MILLER :?
BY VICTOR VERNON.
PART II.
AT THE MINES.
CHAPTER VII.

beats keeping time with the monotonous
ticking of the wooden clock against the
wall. Outside, the wind sighed and moan
ed, but no rain fell. Occasionally she rose,
and going to the window, looked out into
the pitchy darkness, as if her feeble vision
could penetrate its solid gloom then re,
turned to her low seat, and with bowed
What did she wait for? She knew not.
A foreboding of coming evil was upon her,
that made her dread the dawn. What sor-
rowful "reminiscences, what dark auguries,
chased each other through her mind during
that lonely vigil! DeSOlate in the loss OF
her love, wounded to the quick by his de-
sertion, her desolation seemed augmented
tenfold by the cloud of uncertainty and anx-
ious dread which hung over her.
The first gray glimmer Of light was creep
ing through the open shutters, as footstep
ward, trembling. The conner was Mrs.
Benson.
ooh, Miss Miller, dear! I couldn't for
bear coming to see how you've, got on
through the night. A lonesome time Ia
have had, too, but for the children, and the
poor baby affecting and moaning with
his sickness, every hour"
"How is the baby?' asked Maud, me-
chanically.
mo Oetter, yet; out Ho Woise, 'h""n
God"
HHas Benson not come home?"
"No. not he. Oh, my dear, my heart
miseives me that something's gone wrong"
She sat down on chair that Maud had Of
fered her. and rocked herself slowly back
ward and forward, her hands clasped on
her knees.
"Has nothing more been heard of-of
what you told me last night?'
"Nothing-I've seen nobody, nor heard
"Except whato" asked Maud as she
hesitated.
Except only-now don'tyo be frighten-
ed, dear-that Dyker's horse had come
back" 90,
"Dyker's horse-the one my father rode ?"
eyes. But he broke loose, you know,
most likely. May be he wasn't tied safe,
and so he got off and found his way home.
'Twould be natural enough"
"Yes," assented Maud, family. She
would not betray, to this woman the terror
that her news had awakened. Though cold
and trembling in every limb, she did not
even sit down, but stood by the window,
looking out and away from her informant,
who, glad to be with some one to whom she
could pour out her own trouble and anxiety,
rambled on about Benson and his love of
fighting, and his broken promises, and his
unSteadineSS at work
"He's good heart, has my man never a
hard word will he say to me, and he's ten
der as 4 woman to the little ones, specially
XIV that's the ruin of him, and will be the
ruin of us all! When whisky gets to be
master of man, then he goes down the
road as fast as a rolling ball, and it takes
more than natural kind heart to hold
him back"
When she was tired of talking the poor
woman took her leave. Maud was thank
full to have her go it seemed easier for her
to bear the weight OF her trouble when she
was left alone.
By sunrise rumors reached the camp that
both Randolph Miller and Benson had been
shot in drunken fray. One or two men rode
to Cannonville to find out the truth of the
matter. Maud, keeping aloof from every
one, heard nothing of the reports, but Mrs.
Benson. in her shanty, gave way to unre-
strained and frantic grief, filling the air
with her cries, in which the younger mem
bers of the family united-until suddenly
the commotion was arrested by the uneX-
pected entrance of Benson himself, looking
as disreputable as he we'll could, with a
soiled handkerchief bound over his left eye,
and one arm in sling.
He received sullenly and without response
the shrieks and demonstrations of joy that
hailed his advent; the ''natural kind heart"
of which his wife had boasted in his behalf,
not preventing his utterance of some un-
complimentary remarks, regarding what
he was pleased to term "a h OF fuss
about nothing"
"But, oh! Benson, dear, heard you was
shot!" cried his fearful wife, and I've been
distracted ever since"
Eyes, should say so, from your present
behavior" growled her spouse. 81 haze
been shot, if it's any satisfaction to you to
know it; though amt killed, as you may
see. Bullet went clean through this arm
broke both bones, too. had to get it fixed,
or I'd have been back sooner"
"Was it Miller shot you:'
"Yesu' (Here he ripped out a terrible
oath.) cpd like to pitch his carcass down
Rocky Falls. 'Twould be the hest place for
him. Is he home yet""
"No-and his girl, poor thing, is fretting
about him-she heard his horse had come
back without him"
"It has, has it?" cried Benson, with a
gleam of savage joy in his eyes. ,"Ihen,
I'll bet silver brick he has tumbled into
the Falls-he was so drunk when ne ief'
last night he could hardly sit in the saddle
and it's an awful road along there, since the
Storm"
ooh! that poor child ~ exclaimed Mrs.
Benson, sympathetically::.
"Never you mind her." rejoined her hus.
band. "She's one of your proud kind that
don't bother themselves about other folks
She looks on US all as dirt--dOn't you 60 for
to be putting yourself out on her account"
Thus checked in her desire to visit the
Millers' cottage, Mrs. Benson consoled her
self by extracting from her iege lord some
account of the why and wherefore of what
had happened. Being extremely curious to
oct at the root of the matter, she piled him