Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1889-04-06


When l visited her later in the afternoon she
was progressing deliciously in the proposed
Undertaking. and / complimented her warmly
put designingly upon the contents of the bub-
pnne pot She was evidently becoming alarmed
| at the violence of the storm.
Il don't see how the young gentlemen is ever
goin to get home" she said. anxiously looking
at the whirling white blind without. "fwouldn't
think any one could tell thing where they
| was, let alone the cold
1t is not far TO the depot" reminded her
comfortably; they could go that distance in
any storm that We ever have in this part of the
country"
Abby was a weak creature. II entertained
me TO see how calm she instantly became; vet
/ even as spoke TO her little dash of feminine
| worry arose within my soul. The wind was
sweeping against each side of the house alter
| natey, whipping the thickly falling snow into
finest powder. bowling dismally about the
| doors, and dying away in lingering squeals
l among the chimneys above US. There was no
more visible outline of the Mannerton resi-
dence than If we were in the midst of a sand
| storm in the desert
| Il have never seen it like this before Il con-
fessed' unwisely; Il only hope the train will be
| on time
| Abby was demoralized once more. "oh.
| what il it shouldn't?" she exclaims almost
tearfully. What if it should not come out to-
| night at alp"
That is not possible" answered. hastily.
regretting my recent display of anxiety: trains
always run. The potatoes are ready-had
| better put them in now? We shall have
gorgeous chowder, shall We not? No one can
make such chowders you when you try"
After some further assistance 1 ventured to
| leave Abby in re-established serenity, while
| llghted the lamps and made the final prepare
| tons for the boys homecoming. The library
the sitting-room, the hall. were soon all bril-
liantly illuminated. the dining-room ready,
and of quite inviting appearance. with its table
OF shining silver and glass, its swapping, crack
| ling fire and cheerful crimson hangings As
| finished my labors and drew the last curtain. il
occurred to me that it was a pity there should
! be no light visible from the outside for the bows
to see as they came up the street. The parlor
! was the only room on the side of the house
nearest their approach. This was a long,
! seidom-used apartment of state with bay-win-
| dow. After further reflection, l not only lighted
the parlor lamp by way of a beacon, but the
! fire as well. There was an immense fireplace
with logs ready laid. We might all want to sit
| around it this evening There had been no fire
here since the last night OF the old year. 1t
was holiday institution, this fire.
returned to the kitchen. quite glowing with
| the effect of my late exertions Abby was
peering contentedly into the oven at a. mas
| terly apple-ple, which already showed faint
promise of browning; Dan. the cat lay as con-
tentedly on the opposite side of the hearth with
his toes tucked under him. upon the range the
chowder was seethiDg fragrantly. 1t was a
peaceful scene, which the sound Of the raging
!
attractive.
As l opened my mouth to express my salts
| faction an unusual shrek of the wind quite
drowned my words, and at the same moment
bang like heavy blow sounded against the
front door at the other side OF the house.
There was an instant of paralyzed silence
then Abby dropped upon her knees and uttered
| q loud shrek, while Dan untucked his toes
alertly and drew farther from her. NY own
alarm. which had been but momentary. died at
| n no of hnt'c -
somewhat fercely.
Get up this minuter' commanded "How
can you be so fooiish?"
Did you hear the noise?' she asked, in en-
awed voice, sitting upon her heels and seeming
| to listen for repetition of it.
| of course l did. 1t was nothing but the
| wind Why don't you get up?"
She needed my words no more than If they
| had not been spoken. 1T was bad sign" she
said, still sitting upon her heels. II had such
stop" l commanded, loftily; II will not
| hear word of your nonsense. You may STAY
here If you choose; will go to the door myself
and see what made the noise. When tell you
| that 1t was only the storm Won will be ashsrne ed
OF yourself hope"
Don't go.' she begged, beginning to cry.
| sit was knock-you WON'T find ANYTHING, 1t
was knock of warning"
The situation was becoming weird. 1t was
already dark, the wind was fairly bowling and
| ANY was Dteiue herself Win fright. Il
! obllged to be very severe with her to keep nv
own nerves well in command. but the sight of
my superior courage seemed only to arouse in
her deeper fear lest harm should come to me-
All my seedlings. all my arguments, so far from
| calming her, only increased the torrent of her
tears and pleadings, and when realizing this
| fact ceased to expostulate with her and turned
| to leave the kitchen she seized my skirt in the
extremity OF her apprehension and held it fast
| SO, from words it came to something of a
I he viii I'D
| ing myself from her grasp and locking her
| into the kitchen.
As passed along the hall the gimpses into
! the row OF cheerful rooms on nv left quite re-
stored my mind to its natural state. BY the
| slttlng-room clock, the most to be relied ON of
all our clocks, could see that it lacked but a
minute Or two of 615. Good! The BOYS wonld
be here in ten minutes at the outside OF
| course there was nothing which need alarm
any one in the noise that we had heard. If
| had not been so sure of that might have been
! less willing to convince Abby.
| listened. There was not sound excepting
that made by the wind. which blew SO firmly
against the door that it was only with great diff
| ticulty that could unbolt it. Leaning with all
my weight against it, L turned the knob, where
| upon 1T was instantly pushed open with force
| OF wind and smothering snow that extinguisEed
| the light above me and sent me staggering
! backward.
braced myself. gasping and half blinded.
and there in the dim light, half covered by the
powdery drifting snow, lay the body Of a man
across our threshold
| What may have been my sensations at that
sight shall never be able to tell. 1 have no
recollection of any fear or thought of myself;
| only realized keenly that the motionless mass
| before me was human being whom death was
| threatening. With q strength which was not
| my own l dragged and bundled it into the hall
| and shut 1t in. The wind meanwhile had made
| wreck of the place, and pushed and strug-
| gled against the door behind which Abby was
| secured, so that was not surprised to hear her
cries for help above the noise of the storm. To
| show this man to her might be the death of her
| What should 1 do2 Would the boys never
come?
Once more that fearless, desperate energy
| seemed to possess me. The parlor door was
but few feet away. threw it open wide, and
| then seizing the PROSTATE helpless figure by
its collar, / dragged it with what haste could
along the hall, over the sill, into the room.
And now, what did know concerning frozen
| people? Nothing. But brandy was warming.
| surely! He should have brandy to drink; he
should be rubbed with brandy. Oh, was it not
a providence which prompted me to light that
| fire!
| AS flew to the dining-room was dimly con-
| scious that Abby was beating loudly at the
kitchen door and calling my name. With no
| further thought of her, however, l was back
in the parlor rolling rug for the strangers
unconscious head, pouring the brandy down his
throat down his neck, over his clothes and
| rubbing his hands with all my migA
He was sunburnt, bearded man of seafaring
inv, elal IN taE ux,s< 80 H.