Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1891-12-05
CHAPTER III.

After he slept she crept out Of bed and
dressed herself quietly. She opened . closet
and a drawer, taking something out Of each.
The moonlight filled the room. At the door
she paused to look at the sleeper, whose face
was pale in that bloodless radiance. Her look
was tcnderer than a caress. With infinite eau
ton she moved down the uncarpeted, creaking
stairs. She stole about the kitchen in her stock
ing feet until she had placed the simple meal
maybe might be prevented from getting home
and there amt no need for him to 60 hungry"
she thought.
Her preparations completed, she wrapped a
thick shawl about her, tied her decent black
bonnet under her chin and went out into the
moonlight. She locked the door behind her,
although not without bordering whether this
could be SAFE since there was the risk of fire
but there was the risk Of thieves and murder
ers as we'll and another door and the windows
would remain for escape if the house took fire,
therefore she locked it in the end. All she
carried with her was black satin bag (em-
broidered with q crimson fower), which had
been given her by Mrs Dwight Inside she
still kept the card bearing the inscription,
"From Erminie to Lucetta.'
Il dare BAY she'll think it's dretful wicked.
but caynt help it. There amt no other way,
thought the old woman.
She stood for q second locking about the
farm bathed in moonlight. A silver pathway
narrowed over the expanse of wheat stubble
into the horizon prospective. One could family
distinguish the color of the leaves on the pop
lar trees and the yellow sides of the bullying
haymows. A dotted line Of fire swept across
the silver path, the west-bound train. "Oh,
dearie me, oh, dearie. me-" groaned Judith.
II got to stop him before he runs awayr'
She had thought it all out, and while she
shivered with fright and anguish she did not
hesitate once
Huddled in her shawl she opened the barn
door and went to the colts stall. Her eyes
travelled wistfully to the farm horses MUNICH
ing their corn, only her eyes, for she knew they
were too tired for q midnight ride. Trembling
she united the terrible colt, distracting his at
tention as much as possible by some corn and
keeping as far from his uneasy feet as her short
arms would let her. The colt tossed his head
and lashed his tail and the other horses made
ugly noises ON the floor. Cold drops stood on
Judith's pale face. nevertheless abe saddled
Starlight and led him to the buggy, where she
managed to mount. The saddle was q mans
saddle. Jest as well, thought the rider. Il
get of on the prairie never in this world
can git on the critter again.
Thus she set forth, . queer little shape,
astride her mans saddle, with her shawl blown
behind her. The station at Delmar is Q small
nsss hss sh dr. S1s pC.% si
stove glimmering redly through the open space
Of window, the locked doors and the lonely
telegraph operator DOING at his desk. Behind
the station is Q fence. To this fence rode
judith, just as the town clock struck 10. She
climbed laboriously OF the horses back and
tied him to the fence, by knot possible only
TO woman.
'Oh. Lord be praised ct least I'm Oh that
hoss's backw cried the rider. II guv myself
up for lost Fifty times tonight"
She walked up and down the platform, wait
ing Tor the banker Starting. Not until the
Chicago train had gone without him would she
90. She had determined to see him that night
II he did not come to the train she would 70 10
the house, but she was fully persuaded by some
meant to fly.
The half hour struck. sIt's Gsttine drstful
late and unsesmly" eroaned tie old vile, VIE