The Columbus journal., 1888-05-02

uan,l, tut ne urew uacE, as II ne we're Sung.
How terribly thoughtless she was.
II explained about the early
morning start"
chow pleased I I'm to have this trip to Eu-
ropes 1t is q sort Of wedding journey isn't
How good God had been, to let him keep
the awful truth from her. It would have
crushed her, the very thought of her shame.
1t was crushing him.
ting out her hand to him, in unusual fond
nesS. Il am afraid I haven't returned your
goodness very we'll" No more she had
"Where shall we 60 f1rstf'
Ito tho south of France, God willing" he
added solemnly.
Bertha looked at bis face with q new anX-
the marks of his terrible care n suffering.
But he gazed at her in establishment; he had
never seen al expression 80 near love in her
ewes for him. Was her heart softening,
would she yet make up to him in her new
love all that he lost for her sake! But her
lips were moving.
Il shall be better with you than I used to
be. I-I-"sh she dropped her eyes before his
passionate joy, the sadness had gone in an
instant from his face, his future seemed beau
tifuliy radiant again. Il feel different to
ward you, dear"
He bent forward to draw her to his heart.
He was paid for everything. He had taught
love. She had lifted her rapt face toward
his. II had come-the moment he had given
his life for. But suddenly his heart stopped
heating; there was . sound of q ~gallOpin8
horse. Philip kissed his wife, but as solemn
ly as il she were dead, and put her away
from him. He leaned forward and looked
back over the road they had come.
IL .~r, ~,<bf~~ ne GNv$ hut ho hoo~I Tho
ound of a horses hoois. He put his head far
out. It might have been q white speck in
the road, but as he looked the speck became
larger and clearer. 1t was q white horse, at
a dead run, on their course. Philip Breton's
heart, that had just been almost bursting
with its new happiness, was a great, cold
stone in his breast. And he fancied he could
escape, with enemies like his and a whole vii
LACE against him. He could zee only me pur-
suer. All, he knew who it must be. And
that pursuer grew nearer every moment.
Drive faster" he shouted tO the coach
nan, run the horses"
How like the wind his pursuer cana
Philip had thought there was but one horse
that could leap so nightly. Why this was
that one, his own horse Joe. Why it might
be q servant from his home with something
that had been forgotten. It need not be the
worst peril his fancy could pictures But be
dared not hope.
Isn't this delightful" exclaimed Bertha.
There can't be any danger of our missing
the train at this rate"
"Whip your horses; don't spare them
faster"
II anything should break their troubles
would all end that night. And the strain on
the harnesses and the groaning axles was be-
yond all calculation Of the makers. The
horses, too, had got past the control OF the
driver. He had no more occasion to urge
l. ,,;ll n-noA,~oc. s.xool H., ~r,,. ,,,ll,~Cy NJ
the reins with all his strength, but to no pur-
pose, except so far he had kept them in the
road.
The rider of the white horse was hatless,
and his long, loose hair and his swinging
hand, as he struck the painting white TANKS
of the horse, gave him an uncanny look as il
there were no deed Of horror too blood curd-
flakes Of foam from his mouth, foam mingled
with blood; his eyes and nostrils were dilated
with agony; his breathing vas like fierce
gusts OF wind In q tempest Philip Breton
Knew the rider as we'll as the horse. His pur-
suer was Curran; and the implacable laws
made him yet tho husband Of tho woman
whom Philip Breton had made his wife.
They were almost at Lockout. The car
riage gave q terrible lurch at . turn In the
road. Til horses were almost taken OFT their
feet, but still there was no accident; the win
dows of the carriage grazed the solid wall OF
rock without being broken, and in a moment
the horses, now subdued, were trOtting down
the hill toward the city.
But the fugitives had hardly escaped the
cut through the rocks when the pursuer en-
tered it. He had almost overtaken them.
He struck the horses white TANKS q pitiless
blow. 1t was at the very spot where Curran
had saved Bertha's life from the mad dog,
thai the old horse, forced beyond his strength,
stopped as if lightning bad struck him. The
blood welled in torrents from his mouth and
~nostrils; he Quivered like q lesf, and then
fell dead in his tracks. The rider shot over
the creatures head with the gathered mo-
mentum OF that mad race, and struck the
jagged rock with a sickening crash.
Curran was dead.