The Helena independent. [volume] (Helena, Mont.) 1875-1943, 1890-08-10

m M w"so1 AAoH e1utce: Ill ways AZ once
There was no danger. of course, unless the
horses broke loose. was standing with nv
head downwind and my hands over nv
mouth, hearing the trees thrashinp each
other. could not see who was next to me
till the flashes came. Then found that I
was packed near Saumarez and the eldest
Miss Copleigh. with my own horse Just in
front of me. recognized the eldest Miss
Copleigh, because she had q pagri round her
helmet, and the younger had not. All the
electricity in the air had gone into nv BODY
and was quivering and tingling from head
to foot-exactly as corn shoots and tineles
before rain. It was grand storm. The
pitching it to leeward in great heaps; and
the heat beat up from the ground like the
heat of the day of Judgment.
The storm lulled slightly after the first
half hour, and heard despairing little
voice close to my ear. saying to itself,
flying about in the winds 80, my Godr'
Then the younger Miss Copleigh stumbled
into my arms, saying: "Where is nv
horse? Get my horse. I want to go home.
want to go home. Take me home.''
l thought that the lightning and the
said there was no danger, but she must
wait till the storm blew over. But she an
swered: 1T is not that! It is not that! I
want to go home! Oh. take me away from
herev'
I said she could not go till the light
came; but ! felt her brush past me and go
away. It was too dark to tell where. Then
the whole sky was split open with one ire
mendous flash, as if the end of the world
were coming, and all the women shrieked.
Almost directly after this, felt a mans
hand on my shoulder and heard Saumarez
believing in my ear. Through the rafting
of the trees and bowling of the wind did
not catch his words at once, but at last
heard him say: "I've proposed to the wrong
one! What shall do?" Saumarez had no
occasion to make this confidence to me. /
was never friend of his, nor am now;
but fancy neither of as was himself just
then. He was shaking as he stood with ex-
citement, and was feeling queer all over
with the electricity. / could not think of
anything to say except: more fool YOU
for proposing in dust Storm" But I did
not see how that would improve the mis-
take.
Then he shouted: "Where's Edith-Edith
Copleigh3'' Edith was the younger sister,
l answered out of my astonishment: what
do you want with her2'' Would YOU be-
lleve it, for the next two minutes he and I
were shouting at each other like maniacs-
he vowing that it was the younger sister he
telling him till my throat was hoarse that i he
must have made mistake. / can't account
for this, except, again. by the fact that we
were neither of us ourselves. EVERYTHING
seemed to me like bad dream-from the
stamping of the horses in the darkness to
Saumarez telling me the story of his loving
Edith Copleigh since the first. He was still
clawing my shoulder and begging me to tell
him where Edith Copleigh was. when an
other lull came and brought light with it.
and we saw the dnst-cloud forming on the
plain in front of us. So we knew the worst
was over. The moon was low down, and
I'M %hn rls r. -
dawn that comes about an hour before the
real one. But the light was very faint, and
the dun cloud roared like bull, won
deled where Edith Copleigh had gone; and
as was wondering saw three things to-
gether: First, Maud Copleigh's face come
mliing out OF the darkness and move
toward Saumarez, who was standing by
me: l heard the girl whisper: George"
and slid her arm through the arm that was
not clawing my shoulder, and saw that
look on her face which only comes once or
twice in a life-time-when q woman is per-
fectly happy and the air is full of trumpets
ana gorgeous-c olored fire and the earth
turns into cloud because she loves and is
loved. At the same time saw Saumarez'
face as he heard Maud Copleigh's voice,
and fifty yards away from the clump of
orange trees saw brown holland habit
getting upon horse.
It must have been my state of over excite
ment that made me 30 quick to NEEDLE with
what did not concern me. Saumarez was
moving off to the habit; but pushed him
back and said: '.Stop here and exp ain.
I'll fetch her backv' And ran out to Get
at my own horse. had perfectly 1n-
necessary notion that everything must be
done decently and in order, and that Sau-
look out of Maud Copleigh's face. All the
time was linking up the curb-chain won
dered how he would do it.
cantered after Edith Copleigh, thinking
to bring her back slowly on some pretense
or another. But she galloped away as soon
as she saw me, and was forced to ride after
shoulder-"Go away! I'm going home.
Oh. 60 away" two or three times; but my
business was to catch her fret and argue
later. The ride just fitted in with the rest
of the evil dream. The ground was very
bad, and now and again we rushed through
the whlrling, choking ''dust-devils'' in the
skirts OF the flying storm. There was
burning hot wind blowing that brought up
stencil of stale brick-kilns with it; and
through the half-light and through the dust
devils across that desolation fickered the
brown holland habit on the gray horse.
She headed for the station at first. Then
she wheeled round and set off for the river
through beds of burnt-down jungle grass,
bad even to ride pig over. In cold blood l
should never have dreamed of going over
such a country at night, but it seemed quite
right and natural, with the lightning crack
ling overhead, and a reek like the smell of
the pit in my nostrils. rode and shouted.
and she bent forward and dashed her horse,
and the aftermath of the duststorm came
up and caught us both and drove MS down
wind like pieces of paper.
don't know how far We rode; but the
drumming of the households and the roar
OF the wind and the race of the faint blood
red moon through the yellow mist seemed to
nave gone ON for years and years, and was
literally drenched with sweat from my he'll
met to my CATERS when the gray stumbled,
recovered himself and pulled up dead
lame. My brute was used up altogether.
Edith Copleigh was in a sad state, piastered
with dust, her helmet of and crying bitter
~. why can't you let me alone?'' she
said. only wanted to get away and 90
home. Oh, please let me gor'
"You have got to come back with me
Miss Copleigh. Saumarez has something to
say to you"
It was foolish way of putting it, but I !
hardly knew Miss Copleigh, and though I |
was playing Providence at the cost of my |
horse, could not tell her in az many words |
what 6aumarez had told me. / thought he |
could do that better himself. All her pre- |
tense about being tired and wanting to 90 |
homo broke down. and she rocked herself |
to and fro in the saddle az she sobbed, and |
the hot wind bleF her black hair to leeward. |
I am not going to repeat what she said, be-
cause she was utterly unstrunR.
This, II y0u please. was the cynical Miss |
Copleigh. Here was ], elmost an utter
stranger to her, trying to tell her that
8aumareZ loved her, and ahe VIVA to come