Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1890-04-18

land sea, Lake
\ Champlain 1t was |
therefore possible to strike for it direct, in |
stead of following back the bloodstained trail |
of the fugitives, and to cover, in some sixteen
hours of march, distance which their per- |
turbed wanderings had extended over more
than sixty
Our boats we left under guard upon the
river; it was, indeed probable we should re-
turn to find them frozen fast; aud the small
equipment with which We set forth upon the
expedition, included not only an infnity of
furs to protect us from the cold, but an ar
senal of snow shoes to render travel possible,
when the inevitable snow should fall. Con-
siderable alarm was manifested at our de-
parture; the march was conducted with sol
dierly precaution the camp at night sedulously
chosen and patroled; and it was Il coasdera-
ton of this sort that arrested u.s. the second
day, within not many hundred yards of our
destination-the night being already immi-
nent the spot in which we stood well quail
fed to be a strong camp for party Of our
numbers; and Sir William, therefore, on a
sudden thought, arrestinS our advance.
Before us was tho high range of mountains
toward which we had been all day OBVIOUSLY
drawing near. From the first light of the
dawn their silver peaks had been the goal of
our advance across tumbled owland forest,
third with rough streams, and strewn with
monstrous powders, the peaks (as | say sill
yer, for already at the higher attitudes the
snow fell nightly; bus the woods and the low
ground only breathed upon with frost. All
day heaven had beeD charged with ugly va
pors, in which the sun swan and glmmered
like a shilling piece; all day the wind blew
on our left cheek, barbarous cold, but very
Il 81. 81. -
noon, however, the wind fell the clouds, be-
ing no longer REINFORCED, were scattered or
drunk up; the sun set behind US with some
wintry splendor, and the white brow Of the
mountains shared its dying glow.
1t was dark ere we had supper; we eat in
silence, and the meal was scarce dispatched
before my lord'slunk from the tireside to the
margin of the camp, whittier | made haste
to follow him. The camp was on high
ground overlooking frozen lake, perhaps a
mile in its longest measurement; all about us
the forest lay in heights and hOllows; above
rose the white mountains and higher yet,
the moon rode in a fair sky. There was no
breath of air; nowhere a twig creaked, and
the sounds of our own camp were hushed and
| swallowed up in the surrounding stiffness.
| Now that the sun and the wind We're both
| gone down, it appeared almost warm, like a
| night of July; singular illusion Of the sense,
when earth. air and water were strained to
bursting with the extremity of frost.
Ny lord (or what | still continued to call
| by his loved name) stood with his elbow in
one hand. and his chin sunk in the other. gaz-
| Ing before MN On the surface OF the wood.
| Ny eyes followed his, and almost pleas
antly upon the frosted conjecture of the
pines rising in moonlit hillocks, or sinking in
the shadow of small glens Hard by, | told
myself, was the grave Of our enemy, now
gone where the wicked cease from troubling,
the earth heaped forever on his once so active
limbs. ! could not but think of him as some
| how fortunate, to be thus done with man S
| anxiety and WEAKNESS. the daily expense of
| spirit, and that daily river Of circumstance
to be swum through, at any hazard. under the
penalty of shame or death | could not but
| thinl, how good was the end of that long travel;
and with that my mind swung at a tangent
to my lord. For was not my lord dead also.
A manned soldier, looking vainly for dis
charge, lingering derided in the line of bat
tle3 y kind man | remembered him; wise,
with decent pride son perhaps too dutl-
full a husband only too loving, one that could
suffer and be silent, one whose hand | loved
to press Of a sudden, pity caught i'll my
windpipe with a sob; | could have wept
| aloud 10 remember ana DtuOll MN. anu
standing thus by his elbow, under the broad
moon. | prayed fervently either that he
should be released or strengthened to per
sist in my affection.
"Oh. God" said /, this was the best man
to me and to himself. and now | shrink from
him He did no wrong, or not till he wa,
broke with SORROWS: these are but his honor
able wounds that we begin to shrink from
On, cover them up; Oh, take him away, be
fore we hate him.
was still so engaged in my own bosom
when IA sound broke suddenly upon the night
1t wa, neither very loud nor very near. yet
bursting as it did from s. profound and st
prolonged silence, it startled the camp lik,
an alarm of trunp,,, Ere | had takel
breath Sir William was beside me, the mail
part of the voyagers clustered at his bacl,
ntenty giving ear Methousht as glanced
at them across my shoulder there was white
ness other than moonlight on their cheek,
and the rays of the moon reflected with ;
sparkle on the eyes of some, and the shadows
living black under the browS of others, &C
cording as they raised or bowed the head t,