Waterbury evening Democrat. [volume] (Waterbury, Conn.) 1887-1895, 1894-05-02
CHAPTER. Xxx


Dare! Darep' he shouted. "Come
back! Come! You are mad. Comet ]
will take you out of this. I will, on my
soul. Come! For Gods sake, come! 1t
is murder to let you go thus Only
come, and Twill take you wherever you
will
All in vain. No word came back to
him from the dim, tangled depths. Nc
stir of bush or brake, no noise Of foot on
rock or pebble gave him hint of he1
presence. Spite of his calling, his crying
out, his wild running to and fro, he
found no trace of her.
Dare was lost to him, to the world,
it might be to life itself. At the springs
brink she had noted blind path run
ming down the jungly hillside above it.
AS Cleve for a second took his eye from
her she had run swiftly toward it, gain
ed it and was crawling upward, safe hid
by its overhanging growths. Face down
ward, fiat upon the earth, she drew her
self painfully toward the hilltop, with
the wild adjurations of the man she had
baked falling full in her ears.
She had no thought of going back.
Better a hundredfold death or madness
than to feel herself once again helpless
in his hands. The fitful rain had ceased.
It came out of a broken cloud that had
deluged the lower valley, but here sent
down only scattering fall. The air was
hot and humid. The wind came in long
gasps, heavy freighted each with the
presage of further storm. The night
would doubtless be wild, but there were
still some hours of daylight If they did
not suffice to take her to safe shelter,
they at least made it possible to put a
long space betwixt her and her so vio-
lent lover.
Through minutes that seemed hours
scratched and bleeding, her bare head
catching ever and anon some vagrant
twig, some down dropping bough. The
path was the merest trace, hardly foot
wide. Even when at last she followed
it upright, hers was a snail's progress,
SO thick, SO clinging, SO interlocked were
the briers and tangle on either hand.
Slowly, blindly, she followed it. She
had no idea whence it came, whittier it
ran, by what feet it was made. ALL her
thought was it must lead her somewhere.
IT she persevered, it would take her out
of this wilderness that might otherwise
be her grave.
Up hill, down dale, it ran, now cross
ed by other and fainter tracks, now cut
ting sharp through disused cartway.
Dare had lived enough in the fields to
know its smooth surface meant the ha-
bitual tread Of human feet. Evidently
they went upon secret errand, else the
lid nr1.oxxyfh ru011la ha 1ofk 10
mask the path.
Miles and miles the girl tramped
through the waning day. More than one
ruffed grouse few up from the thicket
as she came too near. A fox stopped and
looked her full in the face on top Of
high hill. A wild turkey, with young
half grown, went with wide skimming
wings adown a long narrow valley.
Sunset came on, full of red, stormy
light. At the very last bloody rim
rested upon the hill crests. The sky was
full of warning clouds driven hither and
yon as flawy winds swept up from south
Or north. Dare shivered at the sight.
There was thunder in the air. What if
she must face it, the storm, the night,
alone in this wild waste! The dread lent
wings to her feet She almost ran
along the path, which was now broader,
better trodden, less encountered with
hindering boughs.
Bats came out and circled low above
her head. She listened hopefully, but
in vain, for the whippoorwill, whose
crying means no rain. Sunset faded out
In dusk; dusk fell to black darkness.
stin the path stretched endlessly before
hex- She had climbed . long hill. and