The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1891-07-11

pie. worn subjects OF their rude lives.
the poverty OF the soil, the long season
without rain. the many hardships that
befall the farmer. C
The wife piled David with questions
about the town. Was there a big
crowd at the fairP" and so on. David
answered absently, thinking OF the
waiting stranger outside the gate.
When the twilight fell the young
man felt able to 60 on, and was anx-
ious TO reach his family, so the two
men set out along the path through
the rocky fields. As they reached the
base Of Tho Rocks" and begun the
steep ascent the moon rose.
John led the way, stepping cautious
ly, calling back to the other to avoid
the uncertain footholds.
But David, climbing after. thought
OF nothing but the sombre shape that
had waited outside and had followe ed
close across the fields after them. and
which, he felt, climbed up and up be-
hind him, step for step.
There was no sound, except when,
at intervals. a loose stone rolled down,
dislodged by their feet The night was
beautiful; the broad face OF the cliff
shone in the moonlight. Here and
there along the edge Of the path. where
there was danger, rude ratings had
been placed to protect the traveller
these we're silvered by the moon. AT
some places rock jutting out cast be-
low 1t dense shadow amid the sur
rounding Wilderness.
AS they climbed, David tried to force
himself to turn and face the man in
the black cloak, and question him, his
name, his mission, why he followed.
gaining steadily, step by step; but he
lacked courage. Once he had met that
cold, steady gaze; he could not brave
1t again. He watched his comrade
climb above him. slowly. Slowly he
climbed after, and glancing down, saw
the edge OF the black cloak blown up
ward against his legs.
He stopped and put his hands over
his eyes. who are youp" he said, in
a low, broken voice. why do you
follow, pressing nearer and nearer?"
And voice answered at his ear,
while the folds OF the cloak, blown up
ward. tapped about him: you shall
know my name when you are ut the
end of your journey"
mo, now!" whispered David, hoarse-
ly. Nov. your namer'
Further on!' came the voice.
when you reach the next railing"
And they climbed on again in the
John had gone on round
n turn OF the path, out of sight. David
advanced feebly rising laboriously
from step to step, pausing often. He
could feel the other pressing up be-
hind him, ever nearer.
above, David stopped, with his hand
upon it. Now, Your name!"
.'Do you know?"
The moonlight fell with tender
beauty over the broad valley below,
upon the white road, upon the forest
trees, upon the small brown house ut
the foot Of the cliff. The black cloak
floated about his head, before his eyes,
coming between them and the fair
picture. A hand fell upon his, grasp
ing the railing.
Your name! your name. !"
David's hand closed firmly on the
wooden rail, and he leaned heavily
against it for support; an arm closed
round him.
II am so near so near |,
DO you not knowp"
There was a sharp sound OF break
ng wood, as the rotten timber parted |
n two, and David fell outward, his
feet scraping along the rock.
As he fell, the folds of black swept |
'ound him, the arm embraced him more
closely, and they went down together.
And David knew that the one that
was death. Charles Edwin
in the Bulletin. -Arkansaw
Traveller.