Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1895-04-20

AHGl S4l4,A this mist; we are not
tAS<AS<Es}A out of danger yet"
'TFH IN HR,fy She was painting
w. WIN for breath: they had
LEI .TV come nearly mile
~ \ (NG\ at fine. steady pace
NAW for the most part.
Il L~ There was a singing
in Weymouth's ears
as he shifted the
strap of his pouch to the other shoulder:
to see her again was worth whatever might
befall.
Twas a hard days ride" he said. boy
ishly. land here I'm on the road again."
"'Tis a mercy, then!' said the woman,
roughly. but the mother that is in every
husband. and she and Weymouth were low
ers. and so she began to pity him..
Il brought bit of bread and cheese.
dear. here in my apron she said Il al
most forgot it. but don't stop to eat 1T now.
Twas poor housing for you. God pity met
He had left her stern and cold two days
trayed was more to Weymouth than any
danger. past, present or to come. 1t must
be that she had forgotten her unkind de-
cision. but at the first word of an eager
the long slope. The heavy leather pouch
chafed and famed its carriers side. but.
worse than that. unhappy forebodings took
the spirit out of his heart. The whole ad-
venture seemed unreal. danger and assist
ance were both alike strange events. play
which developed itself before his eyes.
Weymouth was light-headed for the mo-
ment and neither his own safety nor the
COLDS appeared to be important. while the
whole happiness of his life was at stake
A mile or two away the old inn stood up
against the dark sky like dismal prison.
There were lights about it now. as If there
were some stir and excitement. The escaped
man drew a long breath and fastened for
ward to overtake his companion.
What shall do?" he asked. g! have no
horse, and 1 must reach Bristol by dawn.
l have spent my life with horses, but this
one was like brother. Well, must leave
him to their mercy. We should have been
in Bristol now. for the sailing of ship"
You were led astray." said she speak
ing over her shoulder as he walked close
behind.
by whom. then?'
at the bank: he has been waiting his
chance. and has been in league with-with
haste"
II thought you meant to hail the vessel"
said Weymouth. They could have set
round into Bristol"
DO you not see that the wind has fall
en?' answered his companion. Folks have
been dropped overheard from that craft
before now: The Severn is deep and wide
enough to hide many a man with stone
fast to his neck
Again they walked on for some time
without speaking, but at the foot Of a long
ridge Of land with hedge at the top she
stopped once more and whispered in his
ear.
1--WE must do something bold now" she
said: that is the road above u.s.
Weymouth stood like a soldier waiting
for his orders.
There is an inn close by us at the paths
end. IT'S no palace, yet not den of
thieves like that" and she pointed back to
the shore. ITO let you escape may bring
down the law on their heads. If they have
Lot sent some one here already. they will
do it soon. They will not let you get away
SO easily" she said. faitering again. NO
enc has escaped them yet who could tell
tales" and she sobbed in spite of herself
and let him take her into his arms. Her
strength had broken at last Promise me
something" she said. and he promised in
love and pity.
TT is my shame and DOOM" she said
when she could speak. Il cannot marry an
honest man. They are my own people, my
nearest kin. these murderers and thieves
But they are going to America, their pas
sage Is already taken. Next week all will
be at an end. Let them go free: they took
me an orphan and bred me up kindly.
IT'S as good as any Punishment. l have
hope and prayer to help them save their
souls by honest living In a new country"
She was wild and piteous now with her
kisses and entreaties. 'Oh, my man, l
cannot be your shame! she cried. like one
whose nerves were ailing and whose dis
tress was more than could be borne. You
do not know-you do not know; twas
''rhen 1 must follow you." said the trou-
lied man. trying to comfort her "You are
more than ever the wife for me-"
Her face Shone in the dark with white
ness; she stood before him and pushing
him back with firm hand her manner
wholly changed.
Listen to me"-she stopped moment
while they both heard a horses tread COM
ing along the highway. Whatever horse
that may be. II the rider stops at the Inn
you must be ready to take it and ride on
She rapidly told him to find his way
where the road divided just beyond. and
they hurried together up the last steep
rise of ground. The horse was coming at
a sallop.
said Weymouth, ready to rush out in the
middle of the road. The low building of
the inn was opposite and there were lights
in the window. They stood under the caves
of a bushy hedge as the rider came up,
and stopping his horse, gave call. The
quick-witted woman pushed Weymouth
under the ivy tod and ran out and caught
the bride.
He came by the fields! Look in the inn
kitchen!" she said aloud. triumphantly.
"1'H mind your horse. Quick noww she
insisted and the rider leaped to ground.
the inn door when Weymouth. safe in his
own saddle, rode away free as a bird down
the Bristol road.
CHAPTER ".
There was no time for farewells. but all
the way the thought of the lonely figure
behind him in the road was like a sword
in Weymouths heart. AS day broke he
rode into Bristol weary, but not hopeless
man. Through all the
81 hurry and business
w Of the morning the
A experience of such a
/ J |.
Mp night shimmered in
kW his mind, full of un-
H/NM IN reality. like the re-
hsIE1~NNN3rEb membrance Of q bad
fH&8 W0EEI dream. In spite Of his
uVN7 lYHMsiI promise he must see
WI N~T that such horrid bus
MANU. mess was stopped
This thought pos
H, AB sessed him at one
$l-N~ moment, and at the