The record-union., 1892-02-20

I%bD1I NUM- with the quarry lildI Idu
been caught previously in the valley;
these Were to be let loose for men to hunt
after the manner of a fox hunt, but no
dogs were allowed.
A stage had been erected. in the end of
the hall; draped with flags and deco
rated with dark pine boughs, it formed
pretty background for the graceful evo-
curtain went up. Lone Star, attired in a
snort black velvet skirt, scarlet
velvet bodice, trimmed in gilt, and a
scarlet cap on her short black curlS; her
ialf lace, with the large, dark eyes and
peautliul brow, seemed unusually pale,
ana once IN while her hand was pressed
on her heart. She stood before the foot
lights that were short candles in tin
scenes. with her violin under her pretty
chin she played such music as stirred
the hearts OF all present with its plaintive
suggestions of love and passion; then
holding it against her shoulder she
played dance music of all nations,
whirling, posturing, bending her 1.-the,
slim body to and fro, now whirling in u
mad galop or Waiting lightly on her
toes; then slowly letting the time pulse
to miuuet music and SWaying like will
low rocked by the wind. After this she
sang songs of the camp, rollicRing and
sweet, then latter-day ballads, and then
more dancing. Before she finished a stir
headed Ross came in. He took his stand
in the crowd, his rowing, keen eyes TAX
ing all III.
Lone star was dancing the arrow dance
when his eye fell on her. An awful
change came over his face-a sudden
red flush that faded quickly TO CHASTITY
paIeneSs The crowd intent on the
dancer, never noticed him. As Lone
Star was waving the arrow around her
head, her white arms flashing from the
open sleeves OF her bodice, her black
eyes fastened on his face with a look of
horror. For one minute she gaZed, then,
with a gasp, she fell forward senSeleSs,
the arrow still in her hand. n dozen
went to her aid. She came to and muir
INJURED, Home" and they carried her to
her cabin. The affair was forgotten, as the
word passed around, ''only a fainting
spell" and the general dance went on.
The woman who had kindly gone to her
assistance Went back to the hotel, leaving
her with her dogs, and a candle lit on the
small table. She lay on the bed, dressed
as she had been, and finally fell asleep.
At midnight steps were heard approach
ing the cabin. The dogs barked, but the
visitor spoke, and the dogs iawned ut his
feet. He lifted the latch unbidden and
walked in. He stood by the bed and
looked at the occupant. His presence
seemed TO disturb her titfuI sleep. She
lated as with a great horror.
Ross, for it was he, broke the terrible
silence.
VILLAIN Scoundrel! Antoine! At last
| have found you. could have slain you
as you slept, for the ruin you brought on
my home. my life. What have you to
say? Where is my wife,"
The boy, for Lone star was he-An-
tome, the step-brother-tre mbled like a
leaf, and his lips refused to name the
words his brother waited for, but seeing
he was not to be killed, as he expected,
he gasped ont, ''She died one month after
after we left. She was drowned cross
ing river"
Ross clinched his hands until the blood
almost started, the veins in his forehead
swelIed and he was silent for a space,
then the words came like a torrent that
had long been pent up:
You know Deer Creek ," Antoine
nodded. "Nell, tomorrow ut dawn YOU
Will take your vile body there and hurl
it from the river hill cliff A life for
life. You only atone for the past by this.
If you fail, bullet from my rifle Will
pierce the heart that knew OF nauuht but
self-the craven heart Of the trea herous
son Of my father" And he turned and
left the cabin silently as he came.
Antoine dropped back on tile pillow
shUddering violently. This was to be
the end OF lite-pulsing, passionate life;
the end Of existence, that bad been as
care-ire0 as wind-Swept flower, or A
butterily's life that he had loved so.
Rains seldom come late as July, but
that night the wind came signing through
the pines, and the dark clouds covered
the stars and a full moon, and the rain
came softly, drip, drip, dripping from
pine boughs and madrone branches and
trickling through the seams in Lone
Stars RECONSTRUCTED cabin; the dogs
whined softly to be let in. but Lone Star
needed them not; little pools of water
collected on the bed and streamed across
the floor; the little clock licked loudly on
the rude shelf; the candle fiared, flick
cred and went out; a wood-rat gnawed
i'll the ratters overhead. Time passed un-
noticed and the gray, misty dawn filtered
through the window panes and the
chinks in the lone cabin.
The hour came for Lone Star to expi-
ate the crime of the past, but she never
stirred; beyond it all, before another tri-
bunal, not fastened by his own hand or
that of the step brother he had wronged
SO cruelty, but by heart disease that
had been lying in wait for him. The
town doctor knew it, and they deemed
an inquest unnecessary, and he was bur-
led in the gay dress in which he had
danced his life away, dead and buried as
the beautiful dancer, Lone Star.
Ross heard of it after he had left town.
and he never returned to Lassen
The cabin was deserted, the dogs We're
given away, and naught remains as a re- |
minder but a gray stone with star cut at |
the head, and the words, Lone Star of !
Lassen,' that marks the grave where lies |
the famous dancer.
Some years atterward Ross was arrested /
on suspicion of having robbed stage. He |
was taken to the city for trial, the Court |
house was crowded, and the old Judge. a /
wealthy Californian, had persuaded his |
wife to attend and hear the closing Sneech |
of the lawyer for the defendant.
His wife was an exceedingly beautiful I
woman, still young, with bright, golden |
hair and Soft-brown eyes, ana a fine /
figure made her the observed of all OH |
When Ross was called to the /
stand she leaned forward with great in |
terest to see the much-talked-ofm man. He |
had hardly said three words in his soft. |
musical voice, when the Judges wife fell |
in a dead faint. This caused in |
tense excitement, and the trial STONED |
till the Judge, with some friends aid, bad |
carried her out, and returned Then the /
case went on. Ross was acquitted,
There was no evidence of his guilt, I
The Judge remarked to friend "that /
any one OF assortment could see Ross
was not the sort of a man that would be /
guilty of crime or crimes laid to his
charge, for this was not the only one he /
had been accused OFF,
: The Judges wife lay i'll in her elegant |
home for weeks with what the doctors /
called nervous prostration. The CLOSING /
of door, any sudden noise would bring a /
look of dread on her fair face and horror I
in the beautiful eyes.
Ross had not seen her in the crowd, and |
after the trial he left the State. It was /
strange that the sight of him affected her
so-pos 3ibly he reminded her of someone
she had known in the past.
Clare Athelstone was not drowned as
Antoine supposed. She was rascued in |