The Forrest City times., 1892-01-22

heavens. Tne next moment the noble steed plunged into the river, and . great cry went up from those who saw the gallant deed and the women fell upon their knees and prayed aloud for the doomed lord of Darrell.
 It did indeed seem as If Philip Darrell had merely rushed upon death--the strong current swept horse and rider downwards for some distance, and it was only with diflculty the noble animal could hold his own.
 "Bear up, my Hassanr cried Darrell encouragingly, caressing the arching neck.
 The Arab obeyed the guiding hand, and turned athwart streamj they were half. way to the center now, and Hassan was panting, but struggling valiantly. Darrell called to the noble horse to strive yet . little while. When they had reached mid stream, Hassan's powers were failing, and his breathing was labored and distressed.
 "My brave steed my hope, my life, do not fail me now v' cried Darrell, in agony. GA little longer, Hassani There-another cfforti We shall reach the bank--wc ehall save her, my Hassanv'
 Clouds had yelled tho moon, and the people on the Scarth Abbot shore could no longer sec the two battling with the wa- tsrs. The dark eyes that saw them from the Mill for . moment after the first plunge, lost sight of them when the tide carried them down, and lima prayed fer- ventiy that her lover might be saved from the terrors of the food.
 The moon came out again. Where were theyi The villagers asked themselves.- Had horse and rider been cngulfed in the rushing riverf Was the curse fulfilled thus, aud had the life of the last Darrell paid the exacted tributei No; they could see that horse and rider had reached what had been tho bank that morning. The horse was swimming still; but the water was just over the saddle-girths. In another moment the horse stopped with dropping head. They could see Dark Darrell bend- ing over him. He seemed to clasp his arms about the horse's neck and cry of joy and thanksgiving went up. IL reach- cd the brave riders ears, and he sent up an answering shout of triumph. The horses feet had touched ground. He had won the mighty battle; and trembling and exhausted, he had stopped to rest and gather fresh strength.
 But the peril was not yet past. The Mill had to be reached. It wasstill stand ing. For only . moment did Sir Philip suffer the horse to halt; then turning him back towards the Mill he rode onwards, the water still washing mp to the saddles girths. It was impossible to exceed walking.pace; and in every second Dar- re1l lived an hour of agony. At any mo- ment the Mill might collapse before his eyes, carrying with 1t its hapless prisoner.
 As hs drew nearer Sir Philip perceived 1t would be necessary to swim again to reach the Mill. The current too, grew stronger every minute, augmented here by the weir. Was he to lose all when 1t was nearly within his gfaspf Hassan's great power of endurance had been taxed to their utmost. The brave animal could do little more. He could scarcely keep his feet against the wash of the flood; but he struggled on, still on, urged by his masters voice and chcered by his loving touch.
 cone moment more my Hassan--one momenti Oh, heaven. have mercy yet, and spare her till l comei Hassan, my brave, my faithful, you cannot fall me! Strive still, my noblest, my best! So, once morel An, Heaven, give us aidp'
 The horse was on his feet, swimming for dear life. He had no breath for the answering whinny to the voice he heard but faintly, for his powers were fast fail- ing. Horse and rider were close now; the Mill was above them. Darrell rose in the stirrups, and, putting up his hand, he found that he could almost touch the lin- tel of the first-story window. He shouted aloud. Was that all answering cry from within-her voice? The brave steed ap. peared to know his crrand, and made one more effort. Now Darrell grasped the lintel, raised himself, and stood on the sill. Yet even in that anxious moment his noble companion was not forgotten.-- A bitter sob burst from the mans heart as the pathetic eyes of the gallant steed looked up at him, and then the flood car ricd the noble Hassan downwards. He could strive against it no longer; but still, with the instinct of self-preseryation, he struggled to keep anoat; and Darrell rais- ed his locked hands to Heaven and ut- tered passionate prayer for the brave and faithful life that had been almost spent for him.
 Then Sir Philip-it was scarcely sec ond that he paused--sprang down into the Mill, and called Ilma's name; and the answer came back
 "Philip, Philip, I am herew
 He dashed up the narrow stairway to the floor above. What was that, that fash ed across the broad shaft of moonlight pouring through the unguarded window? A mans figure, crouching, hiding, and ready to spring!