The Louisiana Democrat. [volume] (Alexandria, La.) 1845-1918, 1886-12-22

CHAPTER &V1II-COSTINUED
"Where's her father" he said as she
stood beside him.
"He's been away all evening hunting
for Maun," she said.
"And I've Eeen idle!' and he looked
at her in a strained, strange way.
Then he mounted quickly and sent his
horse at a headlong run through the
town, and came laundering across the
bridge by the mill-dam into the wood
lands. He drew his horse up as he
reached the crest of the slope and
listened; whippoorwills were calling
down in the silent valley and some
night-birds were twittering in subdued
and dreamy notes about him; he could
scarcely hear them, his heart beat so.
A little way before him some men were
distinguishable in the road. He went
forward quickly, but Maun was not
there. Beyond them were other men,
and the girls father going about under
the trees, calling: "Maun! Maun!
Maun" in an eager, wild, half-mourn-
full way. The pale slashes of moon
light lit him up momentarily as they
fell through the bougbs, and John
Earring saw that he was without coat
or hat and his gray hair was shaken
about his white face. Springing from
his horse the young man went directly
to him. At sight of his kind old en-
ployer's grief and fear and passion his
own trembling nerves at first seemed
to yibrate with shock and then grow
calm. The blood seemed to go along
his veins with kind of burning steadi-
ness, the steadiness that seemed al
ways to come to John Earring with
anger, anger that was often little more
than fierce, pitiful sorrow. He laid
his hand on the old lawyers arm as he
reached him. .'What has been done
to find her?" he asked, steadily.
The old attorney turned quickly and
peered into his face with an agony OF
apprehension IN his eyes. .'Don't-don't
you know where she is?' he asked, III
tone that sounded piteous, coming
from this man who was always sc
strong and bitter. NO" he went on
without waiting fora reply, ''you dom
know; but you'll find her, boy. you'll
find her for me! She's all I've got
and / meant her for you, meant he
for you!'
For an instant John EARRING wa,
shaken by this appeal; then he said, il
thick, calm voice: "What has beer
done? Where have you searched?n
Everywhere! eueryWheref" cried tn,
old man, with his clinched fists fun!
up and away from him and his eye
flashing" 80! o! if any one ha
harmed her, boy! if any one ha
touched her!'-he ground the word
rs they came through his teeth.
Peace, sir; do not be violent; sh
may not be alive" said the young man
huskily, .'then anger would deffe you
Wait awhile; she may yet be alive
You had best 90 home and rest, sir.
will find her before morning an,
bring her to YOU" He spoke so ten
derby to the distracted father that
half dissolved his own fear and rage.
mo, no, no." said the old man, ("
can't 60 home without her," and h
turned away under the trees and begal
calling: '.Maun! Mann! Manu- as b
went down through the brambles.
John Earring stood still in the sill
very gloom, and his blood thrilled an,
he shuddered as he heard him call
ing so lonesomely, SO yearningly
so fearfully along the silent river
He went back into the road wher
one of the men had caught hi
horse and was holding it. A
that moment Absalom Heater cam
striding along the road. When he say
John Earnings white visage he stoppe
and gTasped his hand. "We'll fin
her for you, he said, in low voice
He had seen John Earling with the oil
lawyers daughter at Joel's party, an
somehow guessed that they were cor
nected tenderly.
Have you seen her, or any one tina
might harm her, AbP'' the young ma
asked.
WAS standin' in the mill door bou
dusk, saw the girl cross the lowe
bridge an ride up this way. Let
see; there was number comm out TIL
way, all farmers though; yes-ofl
there was that mouse-colored still tel
cr that keeps the books at the store; h
went up this way about the same tim
the Miss did
John Earring gave start, an
mounting quickly went galloping int
the town and ran up the stairs to Fow
er's rooms above the store. He fel
about in the dark hall and found til
door and knocked. No one answered
He called the mans name close to til
door, then putting his foot on the door
knob sprang up and caught in the tran
som and pushing it open called tn
mans name into the room, but all wa
breathlessly still. Then he went dow
and rode hard to the woods again, an,
all the night long pressed his hors
through the lanes and paths and high
ways about Openstone. 1t was tn
deadliest night of his life; darkling
burning, longing, hearing in fact AM
sometimes in fancy, the wanderin,
father calling: "Maun! Maun! Maun!'
he drove his painting horse to and fro
now crossing some ghastly-looking oh
ject to find it a moonlit log or waver
ing shadows now bursting through .h,
bushes into an opening, and again rid
ing miles along the white road, ant
thrilling as some cow or other anima
started up In the moonlight; then turn
ing into the woods and crossing darl
streams and hollows and hills, until
when the dawn came, his hat wa
gone, his clothes and flesh were torn
and his face as gray as ashes wit
emotion and fatigue.
Until the moon went down others OF
foot and on horses had been searching
but John Earring and the old lawYe