The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1895-04-23

| succeeded in anything. who read and
! wrote when he should have been plow
ing and sowing, who left his father s
farm and set up for scribbler in Lon
don till he was nearly starved. He had
that Willis Arley, a fellow who never
been one Of Annie's numerous sweet
hearts; Stephen had a vague notion
that she favored him at one time before
her father stepped between them and
| forbade Arley the house. 1t was an old
story, SO old that 1t had not occurred to
| Stephen even to be Jealous; Arley had
not been near the place for years; there
was a rumor that he was gone for a
soldier, or to Australia. He was no
longer spoken Of now, his brother had
the farm, his mother lived In a vine-
covered stone house near the village
church; Stephen seemed to remember
that she was very ill' to be sure, DR..
| Newman's dog-cart had been seen
| outside the vine-covered house that
| afternoon. Yet when Annie spoke the
half-forgotten name, he turned with
| one Of his impatient jerks. the gun
still in his hand-and how did 1t hap
| pen?-the maid servant was standing
by. the only wltness-what did she
know?-the gun must have been
cooked. he must have touched the trig-
| ger-there was a report, q cry, Annie
was down. there was blood on the
stone'paved floor Then followed cries
of alarm and horror. people running
In, the saddllng and bridling and mad
galloping of the cob along the dusty,
sevenmile road to the town.
| The night sparkled with pale stars,
the breath Of honeysuckle hung about
meadow and garden, when he rode
into his own yard and looked anxiously
at his house. dimly outlined In the
gray summer dusk that would not
deepen before the early dawn Redeemed
the sky.
A dim light showed in the rose-bow-
cred window upstairs, another dim
light In the kitchen below; neither win
dow was curtained; all was not yet
over. His quick step, heavy with
nailed boots. was on the uncarpeted
oaken stair, where an eight-day clock
licked with steady patience on the
landing and vaguely comforted him.
quieting the fever of his blood with
familiar. home-llke voice. Outside the
bedroom door he paused, sick at heart
then softly turned the handle and en-
tered.
Annie's face. white and sharp, was on
the white pillow, her dark hair. ioos-
ened and tangled, lay over pillow and
sheet, the doctor was bending above
her. doing something to her wounded
side, woman wiped blood from the
pale lips. lips softly smiling in spite OF
the quick, gasping breath that parted
them. Annie's beautiful dark eyes
were wide and full of light-such a
light as he had never before seen In
them, light directed to the gaze of a
tall man In smock frock standing by
the bed In the shadow of the curtains
What man? His startled glance
searched in the shadow and discerned
the half-forgotten. thoughtful features
of the whitc-handed dreamer, the
wastrel, the ne'er-do-weel Willis Arley
He found himself narrowly observing
the clean white smock, worn somehow
with q difference. Beneath the evi.
IDENTIFY unaccustomed garment he de-
tected the narrow red stripe Of regi-
mental trousers, above 1t the trim mus
tache and otherwise clean-shaven face
and close-clpped hair that bespoke the
soldier. g fs 81 ~
A faint shiver went through Arley's
frame at Stephens approach; Annie's
eyes lost their light and turned to hei
husbands face with piteous plead
! inc, .itt ti-