The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1890-02-12
UFather," said Mrs. Miller, II don't


hev' good American boys myself; but I
guess they'll be all right, as fur as hayin'
goes, n that's all we want of 'em."
Garry was used to take special lunch
to her father in the afternoon, and gen.
orally sat by him while he ate it, and
then returned to the house. She, too,
was half afraid of her swarty, dark
browed countrymen; she was as happy
as girl could be, but she had not forgot
ten the treatment received at the hands
of Beppo and Nina.
Returning from her errand one day,
she was on her way to the village to
spend a night with her dearest school
friend, when she slipped on the crossing
stones of little brook, and injured her
ankle; she thought it was sprined, and
bound it tightly with her handkerchief,
but it panied her so acutely that before
she had crossed the next field she was
bound to sit down on the grass beneath
the stone fence. For few moments
she must have lost consciousness, and as
her senses returned she heard voices on
the other side of the wall. At first she
did not notice them, but gradually her
attention was claimed. They were speak
ing in Italian, and her heart sank cold
within her as she heard villianous plot
unfolded-nothlng less than the murder
and robbery of her adopted father.
1t had become known in some way to
the Italians that he had received large
sum of money the day before, and he
had not taken it to the bank as yet, be-
ing anxious to get his hay under cover.
Their plans were laid with an accuracy
that left no doubt as to their success, and
they intended to execute them that very
night. Indeed they had chosen it, be-
cause Isaacs, the regular hired man had
been called home to distant village by
the death of his mother. They would
poison the dogs (NIajor and Tiger and
entering ground-hoor window, stab the
farmer, and secure the plunder, agree
ing, if it were necessary, to also kill "the
old woman and the girl.
Carmen sat pertifed with horror. Her
heart almost ceased to beat, with sicken-
ing fear. What should she do? she dared
not stir, least they should see her; and
the rustllng of every leaf seemed fraught
with danger, so tensely were her nerves
strung. 1t was four miles to the village,
whence she could get plenty of assistance;
and it was mile and half to the near
est house, but there, she knew, was only
a feeble old man. Would they never go2
It was already growing near to the sup
Der hour. She dare not wait there for
her father, and tell him; she knew that
his every movement, and those of his
household, would be watched. She,
would not be missed from the house, and
indeed was not expected home. Clearly,
she was the one to save him; but how
could she do itl Her foot was agoniz-
ingly painful, sitting there, how could
she travel the four miles of field and
road that lay between her and the vii
lagc. There was no hope of meeting any
body, for they had been expecting rain
through the afternoon, and all the far
mers were as anxious about their hay as
was her father.
81 must save them!" she said to her
self, 81 will ask God to help mel" and
great beads of agony bedewed her fore
head. Would they never, never go?
Each moment she dreaded to feel their
clutches; if she were discovered, all was
indeed over!
At last they arose, and went their way,
happily, not looking over the wall. She
waited till they were out of sight, and
then she too arose. Poor child! that
one effort made her sick and faint. But
a great wave of gratitude and love surged
above the fear and pain, and filled her
young bosom with the fortitude of a
martyr.
Sometimes running wildly for few
steps, then crawling On hands and knees,
hopping now on one foot by the fences,
then swinging herself along by means OF
an improviscd leaping pole-always in
horrible pain, she at length gained her
journeys end. She had been almost
three hours in reaching the village, and
dropped half fainting at the first thrcsh-
hold.
In q few moments, she had told her
story, and the good man of the house
took instant measures to notify the au-
thoritics. In short time the sheriff,
with twenty or thirty men or boys, was
on his way to Mr.. Miller's farm. The
time was short, for the good people re-
tire at an early hour, and it vas nov long
past eight. They TOOK cvs7y available
vehicle, and the tag-rag and bobtail fol-
lowed on foot.
They were in time, however, and SO
we'll was the place surrounded that they
captured the three Italians, and woke
the farmer from his first sound sleep, to
his no little astonishment.
They found the dogs, poisoned, under
the barn, where they had crept in their
death agonies.
But let us return to our little heroine.
The doctor had been attending to the
alienation of her suffering while all this
was going on. He found it impossible
to ascertain what injury her foot had re-
ccived until he could reduce the swelling
and inflammation, which, it is needless
to say, had been greatly aggravated by
her long, enforced use of the injured
member. At one time he feared that
amputation would be necessary, and
when the Inflammation at last subsidized
he found that she was irreparably lame.
Some of the small bones about the ankle
had been broken, and would not rcknit.
Mr Millnr cot lrr hnr l,nA ciHn on tho