The Abilene reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1883-1888, 1886-05-20

For some time after Cornish Tom
}eased speaking there was silence in
the tent. But at the end of an hour
the full sense of their own danger
forced itself upon them to the exclu-
sion of every other subject. The fire
had burned out, and there was not a
stuck in the place they could use for
Greenwood; the cold was intense; and
their situation was growing every mo-
nent more perilous.
''Dick," said Gentleman George,
|'before Tom commenced his story you
fancied you heard something. What
was itP'
Men crying out" replied Dick
Driver
Perhaps" said Cornish Tom, ''the
men from the next gully. What do
you say, mates, to going to look for
them? No ones in the humor for
sleep, and the moon is rising, so that
we shall be able to pick our way.
Who's for it?''
They were all glad for it, glad of the
opportunity for action. 1t was resolved
that all but William should 90, and
that he should be left to take care of
the tent. They calculated to be back
before sunrise, when they would COM
mence in serious earnest the task of
cutting their way out of the region of
snow. They took some long poles and
ropes with them, and in a few moments
William was alone.
Standing by the tent door, he watch
ii IL,
fully along until they were out Of sight,
and then he set himself to the task of
getting together the things they should
need 20 take with them in the morn
ing. This occupied him an hour, and
then he threw himself upon his stretch
or and fell into a doze.
Lying thus, a strange fancy haunted
him. Cries for help, sounding from
MAR, travelled toward the tent. These
cries, growing fainter and fainter, UNI
Gil they died away altogether, formed
part of his dreams, and it was only
when they ceased that he aroused him.
self and listened, in doubt whether they
had actually been uttered. The wind
had lalled, and, hearing no sound, he
doZed of again, to be again awakened
by faint cry. Yet when he went to
SGe door he heard no sound. Nothing
but the snOw-cOvered peaks and hills
could be seen. No sign of human life
was visible, and he shudderei at the
fancy that he was alone in the world,
and that he would never look upon
mortal face again. AS this fancy
grew upon him with the
strength of conviction, the scene
reminded him strangely of his last
Christmas Eve at Warleycombe. He
looked around, almost expecting to
see the queer faces and the shadows of
his dreaming. The hill down which
She avalanche had swept was before
him: the faces ne had seen at Marley
<cOmbe were not there, nor the tree be-
meath which he had fallen asleep, but
he saw the white plain undulatingi
His tevered fancy peOpled its surfaces
with snow-elveS and shadows, staring
at him with giittering eyes and beck
oning him to approach. Like one in
q dream. deprived Of all control over
his will, he walked toward them until
3lc w:S some distance from the tent.
THE shadows continued to multiply in
2lumocrS and waved him onward. As
9le advanced toward them they retreat
cd, but beckoned him still to come. He
seemed to be drawn forward by an in
visible power, until, overcome by nerv-
-Ous excitement, he sunk, half insensi-
ble, to the ground.
my life is over, he groaned. "HOpe
has departed from it; love has melted
out of it. The woman l adored was
falSer'
Nor cried a thunderous voice; and
the word was echoed and re-echoed
Thousand times by the surrounding
snifis. Then, as at word of command,
the echoes suddenly ceased. and, like
bell-note upon the rarified air, clear
and sweet, stole another voice, which
asmote him with mingled pain and
pleasure.
Mo- it said; 1.-The woman you loved
was faithful. She is as pure as the |
snow which may be your grave. Mis-
cradle man, you have destroyed and |
withered her young life. Tear from the |
Rose of Love the Parasite Doubt, and |
awake from your dream.
The voice ceased. the shadows faded |
into thin air, and William rose from |
the ground, writing at the possible |
xruth contained in this delusion of the |
senses He had wandered far from the |
tent. and he was about to turn thither- |
ward when dark stain on the white |
surfaces caught lis eye. He moved
forward, and saw, stretched upon the |
ground, the bodies of two men. He |
knelt and tried to rouse them. In'i
vain; they were insensible, perhaps |
dead. The cries he had heard were |
real and had proceeded from these two
men. He could see plainly their faces |
in the mo0n-gleam; and one, bearded |
as it was, struck upon his memory like /
that of an almost forgotten friend. One
by one he dragged the men. still be-
numbed, to the tent, and, without sue
cess, tried by every means in his power
to restore them to consciousness. He |
searched in their pockets for means of
identification. On enc he found a
matchbox full OF gold and an empty
pipe; on the other he found pocket
book. As he knelt over him to take il
from his breast and looked INTO his
face the same expression of an old
familiar association occurred again to
him, and he passed his hand across his
brow in the endeavor to trace the con-
Meeting link to the fancy which en-
thralled him. The next moment he
opened the pocket-book.
Was he dreaming still? He started
90 his feet, aglow with excitement. for
in his hand lay the picture of Laura
Harrild, with her truthful eyes directed
60 his face. With trembling hands he
opened letter, the characters of which
were familiar to him, and with de-
cry he dropped into a seat.
All was clearly revealed. This man