The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1892-10-19

hand was outstretched and grasped the
curb with giants grip. The ponies fell
back on their launches, the phaeton
swayed and stopped within ten feet Of
the bucoic gossips
"Sho That's Squire Dalton's darter,"
quoth one.
"True BE yer hurt, Mamief" asked the
other
This gave Ruthven his bearings. He
knew the old fashioned mansion of the
Daltons on the lane mile distant so he
turned the ponies and begged to assure
the young lady that he would honor him
self 10y riding at their head to her fathers
house.
When they drew up before the broad
portico the farm hands, startled by rumor,
thronged about the horses as if aiding in
the rescue. Ruthven assisted Mary Dali
ton to alight. and as her little hand rested
within his grasp and he gazed into her
clear gray eyes he felt that he had at last
met his hearts desire.
~ thank you" she said calmly. "You
must come in and let my father thank you
also"
And Ruthven followed her as one may
enter a temple after a weary pilgrimage.
1t was three months later that one even
ing they again stood side by side on the
broad portico Up and down the pathway
a man was leading n fiery black mare.
"And is your answer lnalY" he pleaded.
at must be-" Mary replied. "How
could trust my life in the keeping of such
a man rs youY
Ruthven did not attempt to answer the
question In former days his sophistical
assurances would have swept away every
doubt, but love had made him both hum
BILE and remorseful.
"Goodby," he said. Yet as he stood for
a moment with barred head beneath the
moonlight instinctivey his bonny blue
eyes and smiling lips urged her favor. All.
fairy godmother for once hast thy charm
lost its potency! The girl paused irreso-
lutte with averted face and then went into
the house.
Like whirlwind through the night
rushed Black Princess under unaccus-
toned spur and goad, and like whirlwind
through Ruthven's mind rushed black
despair He had wildly and holly made
his wooing and failed, he who never be-
fore had been crossed nor thwarted. All,
love may well abide his time, for his darts
grow sharper from disuse. Reuben had
long been an adept in reading the contra.
diction of dropping lids and glowing cheek
to a cruel tongue, but then he had been all
was true, and in maidenly shrinking he
saw naught save contempt and fear. He
would not stand it; he, the invincible one,
to be SO upwrought. Yet what could he
do? Do9 Why, he would pack his traps
and away. The world was as broad as
Aberdeen was confined. The world was as
gay as Aberdeen was dull. But where
would he goi Was it not all twice told
tale whose narration had lost it's interest
and whose climax its thrill9
"And would have tried TO behave my
self for her sake" he muttered. But, no:
that way was blocked, and along the old
accustomed one the lights were out. Van
ity of vanitiesi Why could he not revive
his enthusams? What was there that he
had not tried and proved unto satiation2
Where were the fruits of his youthful
days, so tender, so succulent, so refreshing
of juice and flavor? All, that he might
only find them! But these apples of Sodom,
Taught Even yet were his lips a-pucker
from their ashes.
Black Princess, true to habit turned in
at the roadhouse. Ruthven leaped from
the saddle and gulped glass of brandy
that would have o'ertopped a topper.
1.-THE mans daft the night, and the mare,
! too" muttered the groom as he pocketed
coin
Then away once more through the dark
ness down the gathering planks, over the
rafting bridge, up the hillside thick with
creeping shadows, and away Where
should he go? Why had he returned to
Aberdeen? Why rather had he not come
back years before when he might have
worked and prayed, when he might have
! believed and have been believed? Could
| he blame that pure young girl for reading
| in his face what time had written there?
| All, he loved her thousand times more
| for an intuition which he would have
wished a sister to possess What was the
sum of his eXperencey False faces, heated
air, oaths quarrels, the forced smile of the
| painted dancing woman the throw of
loaded dice, the bubble of adulterated
wine No, mol He could not 20 away and
repeat to nausea that which was already
nauseating. But what then could he dor
He might die. Surely The scar on his
cheek tingled as he remembered that when
he had swooned from his horse after that
tremendous tonJahawk sweep the last SEN
sation had been one of rest and peace.
For moment Ruthven's thoughts clus-
tered cheerfully about this suggestion, and
then wandered as if led by dreams. The
strangest, most homogeneous recollectons
. unsutu dCIOSS HIS illIIlu llht pictures lIOlll
the lnntern of madness-the lullaby that
his aged nurse used to sing; the streets OF
Aberdeen as they had looked years before
on n bright morning after a terrific snow
storm, the conclusion of one of the old doc
tors talks at Anyway, to which he would
have sworn he had never listened; the
plant of a beggar whom he had refused in
front of the club ar London; the simula-
crum of "A sweet, sad face which he believed
must be his mothers. Such visions en-
tranced him until he found himself-he
hardly knew how back in his den, seated
in his great armchair, the droplight dimly
burning, the windows open to the relief of
the summer eve ming.
And what was that on the stand by his
slider His revolver-loadel and cooked.
Well, he might as we'll 1t would at least
be an ending to what had been "A tortuous
course from a fair beginning. But lacka
day, how sad, how melancholy to contem
PLATED He had never intended to waste his
life no, indeed! He had had dreams Of
honor, but they had always illumined the