Waterbury evening Democrat., 1893-04-27
The MartlGt Seal.
BY JEANETTE H. wALwoRTH.
CHAPTER VII


old clock on her mantel-shelf. She alb
sently looked the clock in the face, and
it made wild suggestion to her. One
of its long black rusty hands was point
ing to the figure nine; the other was
creeping steadily onward in the direc,
ton of the figure five. Fifteen minutes
to five o'clock.
| Why might not she explore Dry Bayou
before dark? True, she was profoundly
ignorant as to its whereabouts, and tc
inquire her way would not be practica.
| BILE under the circumstances; but there
could not possibly be any danger OF
really getting lost on the place.
| There was no one to object nor to
question her as she walked boldly down
the long spiral stairway and out at the
side-entrance, with nothing about her
head and shoulders but light wooden
shawl, selected because of its subdued
brown color, which would "mingle cas-
lily with the reddish brown of the tall
sedge-grass."
She had calculated all the chances;
Mrs. Lorimer was unfailingly due in
| the dairy at that time of day, Lorimer
as unfailingly at the corn-crib, super
vising the mules evening meal; Dick
and RATE, her most devoted squires,
were fortunately out at the landing,
keeping watch and ward over big
| shipment of cotton.
She drew her shawl closer about her
| shoulders as she passed from under the
shelter of the portico. 1t was cooler
than she had expected to find 1t, and
| there was a suggestion of rain in the
raw autumn air. At q less excited mo-
| C1,n xxyA,,11
back and given up her rash expedition,
| or else prepared herself for disagree
able possibilities with waterproof and
| umbrella.
She did neither. She pushed on as
rapidly as possible; past the struggling
negro cabins, whence the odor of frying
| bacon and weak coffee foated sicken-
| ingly to her Disguised nostrils; beyond
the large wooden boundary gate, which
| sagged SO badly on its hinges that it re-
quired both her hands and all her
strength to open it; out into the I'M
| cultivated parts of the place, where
the dry rafting corn and cotton-stalks
gave way to broad expanses of tall red
| dish sedge-grass which lined the clayey
slopes, and made acceptable bits of
color, in bright contrast with the vivid
evergreen of the dwarf pines that soon
| closed her in from possible detection
| from the house.
She moved forward without any def
mite plan of action, or any defined
| course. Wherever she detected the
slightest indication of q trodden path
among the slippery pine needles, she
| followed it to its termination; perhaps
it would end suddenly where a stray
| Cling growth of cane had tempted the
hungry cattle into pleasant by-ways
| She could hear the soft tinxle of cow
bells amidst the dense greenery of the
| cane that waved far above their horned
| heads and closed them in from sighE
Perhaps it would end, in the most incon-
sequential fashion, in the midst of a
| clump of pines, over whose dwarfed
heads she could see chill pallid pink
glow feebly painting the western sky.
With abrupt suddenness one of
| these blind leads began to descend. At
| her feet lay a ravine. Deep, deep down
wards it extended, its ragged sides
clothed with woodland growths of man.
fold sorts. Tall trees there were, vine
| clad with ruddy-leaved creepers to
their very apex. standing so far
| down in the ravine that their leafy
| crowns were on . level with her
own unshcltered head. A tangled will
| dcrncss of shrubs and trees spread at
her feet. She could hear sleepy birds
| twittering among the branches of the
| trees. She could see where the same
tangled growth of vine, shrub and
| tree, that fell abruptly away from her
where she stood on grassy projection
climbed upward again as abruptly
across an intervening space of perhaps
fifty feet.
This must be Dry bayou! And tc
think she never should have heard of il
bcfore!"
She came to a halt with her feet
| planted among the soft green mosses
while the red-brown plumes of the
sedge-grass waved closely about her slen-
der shoulders. TWAS very still out there.
"Solemnly beautiful" she called it.
The soft gray twilight enwrapped the
earth earlier there than elsewhere.
Stretching at her feet was a narrow but
distinct trail. She shrank from the de-
scent. 1t was late. 1t would be no
pleasant thing to lose ones self down
there among those bosliy shadows.
Close to her, so close that she could
have leaned against its trunk had she
been SO minded, stood IN oak tree whose
life current had been Slapped by the
usurping mistletoe that clothed the
gray dead branches with clusters OF
living green. A hooking bird fluttered
across the shadowy ravine, and, light
ing upon n mistletoe bough, woke the
echoes with his varied melody. Johns
wife pushed the damp hair that was
clinging to her temples back behind hel
small ears, with a gesture of impatience
that was linked to pain.
The hooking bird was calling to his
mate. Where was the wanderer? The
plaintive note of a wood pigeon floateG
up to her from the shadowy recesses o.
Dry Bayou. 1t furnished dulcet minor
to the hooking birds clear notes. L
struck responsive chord in the excited
fancy of that lonely listener there
among the russell grasses.
"She is lonely, that unseen dove! 81
am 1! Oh! John, so am Ip' She laughed
Historically at what she called, in audi
BILE tones, wild foolish fancy begot
ten of the hour and the place. He