Wichita eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1886-1890, 1889-06-22

then she would know what 1t was to loss
something precious to her, and this, Annette
thought, would be fine revenge. So she
allowed the peddlsr to leave undisturbed, and
smiled in angry exultation as she thought how
dearly Madam Woodbury. was to pay for her
harsh action.
In the afternoon Annette was sent to the
town, four miles away, on some errands.
driving the squire's fine young horse, Duke,
to light wagon. Driving and riding were
the only occupations Of her past life that she
could enjoy now, and this only because her
skill in dealing with horses was too useful TO
be set aside. She was delayed at the town,
and night had fallen when she started home.
She was not afraid, however, and drove
swiftly on, thinking with ever increasing re-
sentiment Of her wrongs and justify1ng to
herself her conduct in regard to the peddler.
Soon she reached a place where another
road merged into the one she was travelling.
As she made the turn she was surprised to
see freight reddening the snow far In among
the pines, and she halted Duke to look.
Presently curiosity got the better Of her; she
ahghted and led Duke into an open space In the
woods on the further side Of the road, where
she tied him; then she crossed the road and
walked cautiously towards the light.
Peering through the trees she saw a man
sitting on fallen tree before a fire and q
horse tied near by, saddled and ready for
mounting. Suddenly the man sprung up and
listened attentively to sound that was now
plainly to be heard-the sound Of hoofs
galloping down towards the main road. He
ran out, while Annette shrank behind q
gigantic pine, and just as she was about to
make her way back to the wagon, he re-
turned, and with him small company Of
French soldiers, leading their horses.
"a bitter night" exclaimed their leader.
in French. mo time for fruitless errand.
1 hope, for your sake, Ellis, that we find
young Woodbury."
"Ellisl" Annette listened breathlessly as
the man spoken to replied:
mo fear He Is safe at his fathers house,
as the letter brought to your general said.
was there this morning, disguised as ped
der, and sold him some tobacco. / spent the
day hiding near, and tonight have been in
the stable and loosed all the horses into the
woods. He cannot escape. You have only
to ride there, three miles further, and capt
ure him"
SIT is well; let US lose no time" was the
reply; and in a few minutes the hoofs rang
on the frozen snow Of the road leading to the
village.
Annette stood rooted to the spot with hor-
Tor. This, then, was her revenge. Madam
Woodbury. was to lose, not mere worldly
goods, but her only Child, and the results Of
Annettes vindictiveness were to fall upon
Paul, who had been nothing but kind to her.
What would she not give now to have spoken
the words Of warning few hours ago!
81 shall have killed him Oh, what shall
do-what shall dol" she moaned to herself;
and, with the question, the answer leaped
into her mind.
She flew to Duke, embarrassed him with
trembling but swift fingers, and, springing
on his back, rode across the road and into the
woods, leaving the wagon. She knew what
she must do. The squire's house lay on the
edge of the village, and these woods adjoined
his lands There was path through them,
rough and difficult even for a person on foot,
but which shortened the distance by two
miles.
Between the squire's fields and the woods
was deep ravine, which had been rudely
bridged over two years before In order to
haul some timber which the squire had
bought. Annette knew the path and she
knew Duke. She urged him to his best, and
off they dashed through the solemn pines,
the moon, just risen, making the shadows
still more dense, and the path uncertain and
full of obstacles Oyerhanging branches
struck and bruised her, Duke stumbled and
faltered sometimes, the minutes dragged like
hours, and the awful thought never left her
that she might be too late.
At last she reached the ravine, and here, at
the bridge, Duke showed himself reluctant to
cross 1t was dark, but Annette urged him
on. Just then the moon shone through rift
in the trees, showing Annette the cause Of
Dukes hesitation and her own deadly peril
should she cross. The bridge, disused Of late,
had fallen away, and there was but one
plank left of it, reaching from side to side.
Annette uttered an involuntary cry Of
despair; her heart seemed to stand still!
Then, summoning all her courage, she once
more urged Duke on, and, IS she felt him
step out, she closed her eyes and sat motion
less. One plank-wide and securely fastened,
but covered with snow-between her and
death, and not only her own -eath but an
others by her fault
How long that terrible passage lasted she
could never tell, but at last the hollow echo
of Dukes steps ceased and, with a joyful
whinny, he tossed up bis head and darted
across the field. Soon they reached the house
and Annette saw, with throb of relief, that
she was on time, for everything was quiet.
She left Duke tied and burst open the sitting
room door.
Fly for your Gfe,n she gasped to Paul
1.-THE peddler was spyl The French soldiers
are coming to take you; / heard them in the
wood. Duke is tied by the well. Take him
and fly to Concordm
And, as he began to speak, she tainted at
bis feet.
The soldiers, coming some minutes after
his escape, ransacked the house, but were
obliged to leave in angry disappointment,
promising the SPY that he should pay dearly
for their failure.
Annette recovered consciousness to find
Madam Woodbury., with tears in her eyes,
bending over her, while the squire stood by
anGously. Madam Woodbury. took her In
her arms when she saw her eyes open, and
kissed her again and again. 1t was the first
time in three years that any cares had been
offered her, and no words can tell how
she was tempted to receive their
tenderness Nevertheless, she rose and reso-
lutely told them all the truth; but when she
had finished and stood waiting for their con-
domination, to her amazement, Madam Wood
bury's arms clasped her again
The squire went into the dining room and
touched the bell
Bring another chair and set third place
ut the table" he said TO the servant MY
son is gone, but my daughter will eat with ns
now and always
Returning. he said gently:
Annette, if you have dore wrong, so have