Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1894-11-03


"What?'
''First he SAW thee dressed and start. and
thought nav his Annie, too, would be sitting,
ready for church % Sundays: and then the
bells sounded, and all the happy time cam
back upon poor fathers heart. Oh, Hugh
If you and Aunie had been different to one
another, father would la' been happy still,
but | don't blame 'ee, lad-it were no fault
o. yourn!'
But though she acquitted me in words
there was in manner a certain aifectiOnate
reproacl.
Aunt" | said, II would cut of my hand
To put things right; but Annie never cared
FOR re, and -"
] paused awkwardly, knowing well that
had never loved my cousin.
The Lawd will punish herv' cried my
aunt bitterly. I'm ne'er forgie herl III she
had stayed at hame like a decent lass, II
wonld ri ha' come right + the end. But she
went wi scarce a ward. and wherever she
be, the Lawd will punish her!'
"Nay, nay" l said, rising and putting ms
hand on my aunt's shoulder, don't be hare
on poor Annie! She'll soon come back, and
then all Will be explained"
- s'sfA y al &AAsA a.1his aAlt VIZ
tears streamed from her eyes new
"Oh, Hugh, my lad, think you our lassie
will erer COON back?'
% course. Twas but a lass within fol-
change; she'll soon tire and return. I'm sure
no harm has happened to her, and she wa
always kind and loving
"Saw she were, Hugh, saw she were
Hugh, will zee speak to father, and try tc
cheer 'un?'
| nodded, then STOPPING, | kissed my aunt
on the cheek. The Sabbath bells still run2
from the distance, clearly and sweetly. The
sun looked In through the window, and
sunbeam trembled on the payen floor.
"Shall you gaw TO church, iad?' asked my
aunt, as | moved TO the door.
Not to day" / replied. I'm going for a
walk on the moor"
She looked at me keenly, and | saw that
she guessed my secret; for the truth was, ]
was hoping and praying to meet with Made
line. With a heavy sigh, she turned away,
and began removing the breakfast things.
Once outside, l breathed again. 1t was 2
calm, beautiful, sunny day, with Just a todch
of frost In the clear sparkling air. Far away
the sea shone like silver.
l hesitated a moment, then walked down
the road toward the lodge ~gate-toward the
very spot where, years before, | had first me,
George Redruth. No one was about; a Sab.
bath stiffness lay every where; and the faint
sound Of the far-off bells only rendered il
deeper.
paused at the gate, and looked up the
avenue. There was no sign of any one. |
longed to walk right up to the great house
and inquire for her / sought; but | lacked
the courage. What was l., q common over
seer of the mine, to go following the foot
steps Of a proud lady? Ii 1 could meet her
by accident, good and well; but / did not
wish even her TO suspect that | was so anx-
ious for the meeting.
Perhaps she had rome on to church. If so,
doubtless George Redruth was in her COM
pany. / fretted at the thought, and turned
away. At last, weary with waiting. | deter
mined to seek forgetfulness IN a long walk
across the moor, such as | had told my aunt
/ had intended TO take.
Quitting the road, | followed a path which
led right over the open moorland in the di-
rection Of the sea. The air was full OF light
ness and sweetness: but my spirits by this
time had sunk 10 freezing point. As to for
getting the one object of my thought, that
was simply impossible. Ny soul was full OF
one image, which went with me at every
step | took.
l had wandered about a mile when | per-
ceived, by the side of a lonely moorland tarn
one OF those dark, turf-stained pools which
cast back the light like polished ebony, and
are often mysteriously deep-the figure of a
man. lie was sitting on a fragment OF rock,
and looking at the water.
Coming up quickly, l recognized my uncle
Our eyes met but he did not speak. Turn
ing his head away, he looked down at the
tarn.
Why gns.e cried n Thought VOL
NAV, lad" he answered, still with his
head averted; nav, lad, | were in nav
mood for to kneel and pray. l came out val
on the waste land, and | sat down var,
a-thinking."
put my hand upon his shoulder.
"Uncle, you're not angry? With me-, ]
meang'
Nav, lad" lie replied. in the same .ow,
~listless tones. Il ha' no call to be angry,
least OF all wi thee. Don't zee mind me
gang your gait, and lea me here alawn."
But | remembered my promise to my aunt,
and was determined not to leave him so. Sc
| sat down by his side, saying:
you've no reason TO take II so much tc
heart it's max ng trouble, | think, before il
comes. | know well why you're ~fretting
yourself so much. Its about Annie; but
take my word for II, Annie's all right, an'
will soon come back home"
lie turned his face toward mine. How
strangely wild and weary it seemed, set in 1t
iron gray hair.
sometimes l think, lad. as she'll mere
COON back and ii she do, will she e'er again
be the same little Annie | used to know
But it's nawt that, my lad, it's nawt that a
is ON my mind"
Then what is it? Annie, / I'm sure, !
well and happy; so what can it be-"
He looked at me long and steadfastly be
fore he replied.
If my lass went away, 1t nun ha' beer
because o. trouble, and Ii 'twere trouble
'twere q kind that she were feared to tel
even to her avn father. That letter my An
ME write came from q sore 'heart-maybe
heart some villain had broken; n what
think, lad. other folk think tool ha' seel
them whispering it to n anawther, ant
looking at meP'
OF course / understood him well enough
for the same thought had often enough beel
I'm my oyn mind.
Whatever has happened" l said, "b'
sure pf one thing, Annie is not to blame
UncIe, do you know what l have often sns
pected? My cousin left us only for a it'll
while, because she wished to be out of Georg
Redruth's way"
what dye mean" he cried, starting, an
trembling violently.
There was something between them. Ii
had won her heart, perhaps Then, distrus1
ing him, and knowing the great distance be
tween their stations, she said TO herself,
will go away for u time till l am cured, Q
till ne has left the place."
My uncle frowned thoughtfully, and shoe
his head.
NAV, Hugh--there be more in I tina
that; ''but, whate'er IL be, Pm sure the youn
master had no hand in Z. know you neve
liked 'un, Hugh; but Master large has
kind heart, and would never do a dirty deed
Why, i ha' knawed him and sarved him eve
sim he were q boy, and I'D trust 'un wi IN
own life"
In pity for his trouble, l forbore to to
MN ali 1 knew. Even had / lone so, 1 bs
lieve his simple faith in the MASTER woul
have remained firm.
ITS o. summat elaG I'm thinking, lad" h
said, after q pause; ''summat thai were tawl
me tother day, by John Rudd. Three q
four days arter Annie went away, job
Rudd he saw her in Falmouth, alawng wi
that Yankee chap. johnson, the overseer."