Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1889-12-26
CHAPTER III.

with the morrow we are homeless,
Claire-my bonny Elinor, poor old grand
father and you. Q, my child, are we de-
serted, by heaven?'
NO" spoke Claire Denslow, devoutly.
Not a sparrow falleth. We shall not be
utterly cast down. Come, mother, it is
nearly IL o'clock. You need rest. | will
see that Elinor and grandpa are COM
Portable for the night. Mother, mother
he's gone!'
Almost a shrek, the sudden cry of
Claire brought her mother to her side, and
together, horror-eyed, they glared in at
the room usually occupied by Grandfather
Denslow.
"Gone!" gasped Mrs. Denslow.
"See, his bed is untouched: his coat and
hat gone. Mother, you know how strange
ly he has acted. Oh, if he has ventured
forth on such a night as this!'
Il am going, mother. Can we see him
perish? Some vagary, some childish idea,
has sent him out tonight. I am sure |
shall find him."
At every gap and defle along the cliff
Claire would pause and shudder, as if loath
to glance closer for fear she would find
poor old Grandfather Denslow lying dead
where he had fallen.
'Help!'
Faint, despairing, the cry pierced the
darkness and gloom. Vaguely discernible,
fifteen feet below, n hand entangled in a
stout dead vine, the body limp, helpless,
she made out a human figure.
at is he! | am coming! | am COM
ing!!' she quivered and the hardy noun
tain girl was down the dangerous shelf,
clinging to the vine.
How she ever dragged the now %insensi-
BILE form to the cliff she knew not. Gasp
ing, fear-eyed, she looked down at the hud-
died figure.
mot Grandfather Denslow!'' she pant
ed. "A stranger. Who is he? He lives,
but"
She gazed despairingly back the long,
difficult path leading to The Cedars. She
could never hope to carry that burden
thither alone.
Should she hasten to the village and
summon help? About to brush aside
the cape that obscured the face of the
senseless stranger, Claire uttered a startled
cry.
A glow of radiance blinded her. Thrill
ed, marveling, she looked. The old hut,
a familiar landmark, was one red glow of
light.
What does it mean?" she breathed,
aghast. mo one has lived there for years,
yet some one must be there now. | can
not see this stranger whoever he is, perish
of the cold"
Bravely sheffield the limp form. Stanch-
" she plodded onward down the snow
clogged path, across the slippery rocks, to
the hut.
Help! Open, in heaven name! Mercy!
Grandfather"
Yes, the door had opened and Grand
father Denslow, serene, e~cstatic, amid the
glow of twenty blazing candles and pine
knots and a roaring, rustling fire, g1eeted
her efusively.
She staggered with her burden to the
hearth. Then she CHANGED to look down.
A white, mute face showed now. She
gasped.
Was her brain reeling and the elves of
Yuletide playing her fantastic tricks to
sorrow and delude?
No. no, no Down on her knees Claire
fell. One thought for heaven, one for
love, and then she tainted dead away. the
name of the man beside her trembling
ON her agitated lips-the name written
In snow, treasured In memory glowing
with every token of fidelity and fealty.
"Lesliei"
The dead come back to life; empty arms
and a longing heart to crave no more, for
when she awoke from that deep swoon the
white face beside her glowed with the
warmth of returning vitality.
And voices sounded w~ithout-but