The daily morning journal and courier., 1894-11-10

awaiting him patiently beside the tea table. His repast was untouched until he had said accustomed grace by re- beating our Lords Prayer.
 Then he began upon his food with hearty relish and zest; but his bent iit- tie wife-was 1t from the subtle Instinct Of the mothers unaccountable forebod- ings and measureless compassion r stealthily and many times lifted that comforting apron corner to her dim old eyes during that single evening meal.
 Despair is oftener dumb than fren- zied; but 1t is often both.
 The haggard woman holding to her heart her stricken husband as they were sped away from the Red Lion in the jolting wagon. might have had some swift consciousness of the lights gleam- Ing from the great house upon the hill; Of the merciless hand which had signed | their commitment; of the tender home | lights leaping across countless shining objects and burning into her desolate, | desperate heart; for the infinite God can only measure punishments and mo- ments such as these.
 Her face. fell upon her breast. and mutely croodled into the ghastly face and neck of the man she held with aw- ful pressure to her wildly fiutterlng heart. And thus 1t was, until the open country was reached. Here she raised her head as if stung by uncomfortable | torment.
 Out between the hills, across the stony, storm-swept spaces; she saw the blinking lights from the struggling poor house windows. She craned her head and neck far out toward them for a moment.
 My God! Not that!-Not thati" Only these half-f formed words escaped her lips; but now followed the frenzy of despair.
 She laid the senseless form from her arms tenderly in the straw Of the wag- on box. She crawled among her com panions, rousing them with startling I whispers; beating them into life with stinging' blows They seemed to rise up at last and gather around her. Her hands like claws were suddenly thrust up into the night, and when they as swiftly returned, Reuben Screws was in their remorseless clutch. vaAt, A moment more and the wagon had come to halt. In another moment the constable was bound to his seat, the desperate occupants of the wagon were upon the ground. and the docile horses were moving leisurely with their light ened load around the turn between the hills, leading to the Dentville poor house.
 "Come!-come!' she hoarsely whis- pered. Help me lift him up! know | one spot where hunger and death may come with shelter and benediction and peacew
 It was as though the dead living then trailed with the living dead along some old familiar pathway, away from the hateful lights of the Dentuiae. poor house toward the hallowed silences of the olden Dentville village church. Back in the village Its pastor and it's godliest, richest and most powerful citi- zen had both finished their evening re- pasts. tN singularly, both were i'll at ease. As SAS SlOIlu AlkA1l CdoCu dllu dL tlkilC6 IlOWl- ed dismally through the raging tree branches above the parsonage, the pas tors heart bled for all who might Nelp- lessly know It's stings and hurts. & q Gabriel Dent was truly troubled. It was no more than a twenty minutes drive for his, smart team to the poor house. Dumping the wa gon's wretched load into its doorway, was but a mo- ment for Reuben Screws and old Bee- ties, the keeper. But more than an hour had, now passed, and the con stable had not returned ',.s.sa n @.s.5
 As the storm shook the old mansion to its foundations, its owners heartwas alone troubled because flnaaity concern ing his merciless act had not yet been fully assured. Where was Reuben Screws? Why had he not returned :? And why could not Gabriel Dent ser-, want of the Lord, instantly know that his first decisive measure for the lifting up of religion in Dentville, had been closed and sealed beyond all recall by. the implacability of his own inexorablei wish and will?
 OuCeFCdluIy IO SuCu ucdIIS Ol lilIlI ID. as the remorseless droppangs of water which wear and kill. He could endure it no longer, and he plunged forthwith into the wild and bitter night
 Mother and Ruth," said the Dent vile pastor at the parsonage, T can't bear this foreboding upon me that some one in Dentville Is in great distress, perhaps in utter peril. Savage as 1t is outside, feel thatl T must go at once and look about the village" a S. I
 "If you should hapen to bring back; any one, any one needing them, Philip" were the last words of Mother Warden at the whistling crack of the door, you'll find the spare rooms ready and the kettle boiling on the fire. God bless you in your search, my son!'
 Thus two humans batt1ed for time against the storm which swept the lit- tie village.
 Whatever fnality had come to the consciousness of Gabriel Dent in his de- termined search when Philip Marden, startled at a faintly flashing and paling light from the window of aais abandoned study in the rear of the old church basement, had hastened through the parsonage grounds to the unused study \ door, q1e certainly saw old Gabriel Dent tearing and tumbiing through the ghostay grave-stones of the grewspme | churchyard toward the village street, shrieking horrible maledtctions as he