People's voice. [volume] (Wellington, Sumner County, Kansas) 1890-1917, 1895-03-21
CHAPTER XII.
MARGARET.

Early in the afternoon came in
sight of the cottage of Margaret 1t
lay unchanged. gray, stone-fashioned
hut, in the hollow of the mountain
basin. scrambled down the soft
green brae, and soon stood within the
door of the cottage. There | was met
by Margaret's attendant. She led me
to the bed where my old nurse lay.
Her eyes were yet undimmed by years,
and little change had passed upon her
countenance, since | parted with her
on that memorable night The moment
she saw me she broke out into a pas.
sionate lamentatiOn, such as a mother
might utter over the manned strength
and disfgured beauty of her child.
What i'll has he done-my bairn-to
be all night the sport of the powers of
the air and the wicked of the earth?
But the day will dawn for my Duncan
yet, and a lovely day it will be-"
Then, looking at me anxiOusly, she
said:
You're not much the worse for last
night, my BARN. But woes me! His
grand horse, that carried him so, that
| blessed the beast in my prayersw
l knew that no one could have yet
brought her news of my accident.
You saw me fall, nurse" | said.
THAT | did" she answered. II see
you oftener than you think. But there
was time when l could hardly see
you at all, and Thought you were dead,
my Duncan"
| stopped to kiss her She laid the
one hand that had still the power Of
motion, upon my head, and dividing
the hair, which had begun to be mixed
with gray, said: "Eh, the bOnny gray
hairs! My Duncan's man in spite of
themw
She searched until she found the
scar of the saber cut.
Just where | thought to find itw
she said. THAT was a terrible day
worse for me than you, Duncan
'YOu saw me them" exclaimed.
Little do folks know" she answered,
"whO think I'm lying here like a live
corpse in its coffin, what liberty my
sOul-and that's just me-enjoys. Lit
tie do they know what l see and hear.
And there's no witchcraft of evil-doing
in it my boy; but just what the AL
mighty made me. Janet, here, de-
clareS she heard the cry, that l made.
when this same cut, that's not so we'll
healed yet broke out in your bonny
head | saw no sword, only the burst
ing of the blood from the wound. But
sit down, my BARN, and have some
thing to eat after your walk. Well
have time enough for speech"
You said, nurse, that some time ago
you could not see me. Did you know
nothing about me all that time"
81 took it to mean that you were i'll,
my dear. Shortly after you left us,
the same thing happened first; but / do
not think you were i'll then"
Il should like to tell you my story,
dear Margaret" l said, cOnceiving q
sudden hope Of assistance from one
who lowered so near the unseen that
she often fitted across the borders.
But would it tire yOuY
Tire me, my child!' she said, with
sudden energy. Did l not carry you
in my bosom, till l loved you more than
the darling l had lost? Do l not think
about you and your fortunes, till, sit
ting there, you are no nearer to me
than when 4 thousand miles away?
You do not know my love to you. Dun.
can. l have lived upon it when, daro
say, you did not care whether | was
alive or dead. But that was all one to
my love. When you leave me now
shall not care much. My thoughts will
only return to their old ways. But
want to hear your story. am hunger
ing to hear it."
But" l whispered, 81 cannot speak
about it before anyone else"
Il will send Janet away. Janet. ]
want to talk with Mr.. Campbell alone"
VERY WELL Margaret" answered
Janet, and left the room.
TO BE CONTINUED)