The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1892-06-26

their flight must be kept secret, or that
dreadful aveDger would wipe out with his
blood the wrong the other man had done
him. She must find her husband before he
left Red Spinney to tell him that MIR.
Thwaite would be home tomorrow. To-
day 1t was today. Gould she reach her
! husband in time.
She had no consciousness of anything
else now.
Ten minutes later, having satisfied her
self that her husband had really left the
house. half clad in her eager haste to go TO
him, she left the house and passed out into
the raging night
How she did that terrible journey no one
ever knew. through the blackness OF the
night, through the fury of the storm of
wind and rain; over the rough country
roads, drenched. chilled to the bone; bruis-
ed and wounded az she stumbled again and
| again in the darkness: half fam ting with
exhaustion and effort growing every mo-
ment more dazzed; with the wild force OF
the elements about her, yet always pos
sessed by that one thought which guided
her-when will and power seemed to have
failed her-to save her husband from the
man who would track him down to the
ends of the earth, to avenge his wrong, she
went on and on. Until she fell almost close
to its threshold, she did not even know that
she had reached the hut on the edge of the
spinney.
Then, as she stumbled to her feet again,
she caught sight of a glimmer of light, as
the door opened little and some one looked
out into the storm filed night. 1t closed
again and she staggered forward, the
! jingle OF harness and the sound of restless
horse coming from ruined outhouse close
to the hut guiding her. She heard the low
murmur of voices inside she struck at
the door with both hands and call her
husbands name.
| There was adead pause in the low-voiced
talk. Then came a woman's faint scream
of wild terror, for the call had sounded cut
OF the wild darkness of the night like a
spirit crying from the place of the dead.
She opened the door and saw them.
Mrs. Thwaite sat on a rough bench,
leaning against the wall of the cabin, the
| yellow fare of q lantern lighting up her
| face, CHASTITY and wide-eyed with terror.
She had been crying when Dorinda had
knocked, but the tears seemed suddenly
frozen in her eyes, and she crouched back
against the wall, half mad with terror.
Myles Underhill stood like one turned to
stone, staring at his wife in horror Of
recognition 1t was that scene scared into
her brain that haunted Dorinda through
all the delirium of the black days that
/ followed.
Her husband is coming home to iay,n
she said in hoarse, strained voice, which
did not reach her own ears, dulled by the
deadly faintness that was overcoming her,
and pointing at Mrs. Thwaite. II came to
save you Take her back, or he will kill
you botAp
She reeled aud fell senseless to the
ground.
Of the days and weeks that followed,
she herself had no count. She lay On the
borderland of life ana death, and knew
nothing except the haunting horror OF that
everpresent scene in the hut Of Red Spin
ney.
Her child was born, and died within
few moments of fits birth
That she herself could live seemed an i'm
possibility. She knew nothing of The ten
der care that surrounded her, nor OF the
presence of the Duchess, who scarcely left
her bedside and who would never speak
to the young man who went about like q
ghost in his own house, starting HI every
voice lest it should bring tidings of the
death of the wife ne had not loved.
she knew nothing of his presence there;
nothing of the success Of her effort to save
them. She did not know that the woman
whom she had saved from deadly sin had
passed safely back into the care of ner hus-
band better woman than she had ever
been before, because of the terrible
sacrifice which had wrought her saliva
ton. For fear and remorse combined
had made her part from Underhlll that
night. she did no. know of any
Of the chat and gossip that was circu-
lated IN the neignborhood about her own
strange Midnight adventure though the
real truth OF the case he'd been hushed up
ana never came out. She did not even
know how sue had been brought oack by
Ter husband that dreadful night to the
house, nor even II he were sorry or angry.
But she lived
She came back slowly, so slowly that for
months they did not dare say that she was
out OF danger.
1t was not for many days after Der re-
covery that she was allowed to hear every
thing. and To decide what Ter future course
OF action would be-
But she had nude up her mind, and as
soon as she was able 10 DO moved, she said
she would go bsck 10 the home OF her girl
hood in Derbyshire. Tney did not thwart
her. and she left her husbands house
''Do you think she Will ever come back
TO you. Myles Underhilll' asked the
duchess. II wonder il you will find your
house as empty as mine was when she left
ii Tor yours"
cit is very empty aad desolate," said the
young man. And it is haunted by her
eyes as i saw them that night And |
seem always TO hear the sound Of dead
children's feet. J shall shut up the house
aud 60 away. l do not thins she Will ever
come back"
Your only hope is in the goodness we
laughe ed at-heaven forgive us both u said
the duchess, and there were tears in the
eyes which had grown soft with wonanly
tenderness once more as she nursed the
girl who was neither pretty nor smart nor
worldly wise. Perhaps when the daffo-
oils come up again, and the earth lives
anew, AID the dreary things are forgotten,
she may come back into your life, too. Go
TO her in the spring time, for she is a good
woman
THE END.