The National tribune., 1892-07-21

a bend in the road, and only rights itself as
Andre filings his weight to the upper side.
The Prince, white as marble, whispers low
order In Timothy's ear. Nine. Novar laughs
no more; her eyes shine like a cats; she
| looks at the wolves and again at the horses.
Superb! Magnificent! That old horse is
simply amazing! His name, Prince his
name?"
Faust, Madame" the Prince answers,
coldly; "also permit me to remind you that
our danger is very great"
al know, l know-you need not tell me. If
the sleigh upsets-well nothing will remain OF
US but our guns and the buttons of our clothes.
| Pooh! ! trust to Faust-he is mavelous ami
NAL"
by Gods will, my Prince" says Timothy,
solemnly, well reach the lake safely. How
| it will be them cannot tell; the lake-edge
is bad. rough, and slippery, the descent very
very Steep"
"so Take this, then" the Prince returns
giving Timothy his hunting knife; If we
are spilled. am not to fall into the jaws OF
those devlish brutes."
Il comprehend, your Exceliency," Timothy
replies.
And thou Serge" Nine. Novar murmurs
pale but smiling bewitching smile into the
| Lieutenant's face, art thou afraid?"
81, Madame, afrad?" he answers slowly,
| looking her straight in the eyes as he speaks
mo- But useless death seems to me ridicu-
| lous-criminal, when imposed by the caprice oil
a willful woman-but submit to il"
Nine. Novar shudders; for q moment she
| seems stunned.
And you speak thus to me, Serge?" she
| questions, amazed.
! "To you Marta" he answers, for the hrst
time calling her by her name.
! Something seems to break in her heart as
| she iistens-a whimsical thOughtless heart, n
little too sure of its power, perhaps. but essen
| TALLY feminine. The shock increases for her
ten fold the danger to which they are exposed.
And such danger, too! The horses. beyond
control, maddened, their heads low, run hap
hazard. The wolves relentless in their chase,
are almost on them. Suddenly Timothy cries
out hoarsely:
"The lake, the lake, my Prince! We are
there!"
Before them the forest opens, broad. tree
less space comes into view; it is the road-the
road barely visible, which slopes like sort of
ice-coyered trench whose sides nearly verti-
CAL The least slip on the horses part, slight
swerve aside and all-men and beasts-would
be rolling in the snow, at the mercy of the
ravenous horde so close at their heels.
The sleigh flies now like squall of wind.
Not even Faust attempts longer to check their
headlong flight. He, too, runs blindly, fling
ing out his heels with the long, superb stride
Of pure blOoded racer.
oOu uTOltCl WIG 4 aihSO uh-
der his breath" the victims Of woman's
whim!"
He signs, turns his back on Nine. Novar, and
seats himself by the coachman, the veins of
whose neck swell out like whip-cords as he
pulls on the lines with all his might.
Let them CO." says the Prince "let them
go, Timothy. No human power can aid US
now"
"Holy Virgin, no; not till the lake is
passed." Timothy cries. "The steppes are
just beyond once there, we are saved !"
Like bolt of lightning the horses fly down
the slope to the lake. Seeing something like
sink before him, Faust, with lifted head and
wide-open eyes, recognizes the danger confront
ing them, for he knows, like a human. what
his end will be if his maddened comrades drag
him over the brink of that treaCherous spot.
He braces himself stiffly, digs his feet deep in
the snow, and throws himself to one side,
thrusting the right horse with him and forcing
him to keep in the road edging the water.
But the left horse slips, scrambles, and falls.
Now Faust rears forcing with him the right
horse to his launches. Timothy, trusting to
the instinct of the old horse, holds fast with
one hand, stretches forward across the shaft
and cuts with one stroke the fallen horses
traces. With neigh of agony he instantly
disappears under swarm of snarling devils.
The sleigh flies on, the lake and wood are
passed, and the broad highway of the steppes
is before them. The hunters silent and
speak never word; q light CLEANS in the dis
lance, and Timothy turns the steaming horses
toward it. 1t is the post-station in the midst
of the steppes. They enter the courtyard like
a charging hurricane
Faust for a moment breathes heavily and
loud, staggers blindly, whinnies low, and shud-
deringly falis-never to rise again. He had
broken blood vessel in the effort he had made
to keep the sleigh straight when the side. horse
fell, and, though bleeding inwardly all the
while, the strength and courage Of his race up
herd him to the last.
Timothy, with bowed head and wet eyes,
makes no attempt to hide his sorrow. The
Prince stands like q man of stone, gazing
dumbly at his horse, already stiffening, his legs
stretched out. his mouth and nosrils red with
blood. Nine. Novar, too, for a moment is
speechless; then throws back her head with
gesture of imperious defiance.
cit was not to be this time" she murmured,
softly. 1--WE are saved-saved, Serge, my
friend, though all depended upon a horse"
And moved, touched, in spite of herself, she
turns and impulsively reaches her hand to her
lover. But he stands like stone; he does not
notice her hand, and his voice is ice itself as he
mechanically repeats after her: CAS- you say,
Madame-all depended upon horse"
Still she does not understand him she Is
woman and hard to convince, and she speaks
again with tender infection:
How strangely you speak, Serge. 1t was
Marta-did you know that, Serge-Marta you
called me during-during our peril" she added,
with silvery laugh.
"For the first and the last time, Madame"
the Lieutenant returns, gravely. Faust has
broken that which bound me to my dearest de-
sire. True courage is always admirable.
would see any woman brave peril cooly. and
would commend the effort in like proportion
would despise her did her caprice endanger
the life even of dog. How, then, judge one
whose willful fancy exposes human lives to the
cruellest danger? Men are not allowed, as you
know, to draw back from a daring, even fool
hardy, undertakings silly bondage imposed
upon us by self.esteem. Therefore woman
who abuses her privileges, who presumes upon
this sentiment and knowledge, is neither more
nor less than a murderess-a murderess Nth
generalization; and woman, be her station
what it may, without tenderness is in my
opinion, monster.
"For that reason, Madame. permit me to
congratulate you on the happy outcome of
your within, and to bid you-farewell."-Th
Argoaaut.
How Actors Study.
tSt. Louis Globe Democrat