The morning times., 1895-09-15

erto his CHARACTERISTIC reyeries had been
OF the past-reminiscences in which there
was only recollectf4n, po INA gination, and
very little hope. Udderthe spell OF Chivers's
words his fancy seemed to expa nd; he bgan
to think of his wife as she might be now
perhaps Ill. despairing, wandering hope
lessly, even ragged and footsore, Or
believing him de9d7relapsing into the
resigned patience that had been his own.
Butalways q new Sadie, whom he had never
seen or nown before. faint dread, the
lightest OF neutrality-suspicious. coming
from his very ignofa nce-for the first time
touched his steadfast heart and sent chill
through it. He shouldred his weapon nd
walked brisky toward the edge of the
| thick set woods. There were fragrant
essences of the laurel and spruce-baked
| in the long-day sunshine that had encom-
passed their recesses-stin coming warm
to his face; there were the strange shiftings
of temperature throughout the openings
that alternately warmed and chilled him
as he walked. 1t seemed so odd that he
should have now have to seek her instead
of her coming TO him; 1T would never be
the same meeting to him away from the
| house that he had built for her. He stroll
w u,
| on the ledge. The white moo might that
lay upon it, dulled the glitter Of lights
in Its windows, but the sounds of laughter
and singing came to even his unfastdious
ears with a sense of vague discord. He
walked back again and began to pace
before the thIck-set wood. Suddenly he
stopped and listened.
To any other ears but those accustomed
,i,,e aa
nothing. But, familiar as he was with all
the infinite disturbances OF the woodland,
and even the stimulation of intrusion
caused by falling branch or lapsing pine
cone, he was arrested now by recurring
sound unlike any other. 1t was an occa-
sional muffled beat-interrupted at certaia
intervals, but always returning in regular
rhythm whenever 1t was audible. He knew
1t was made by cantering horse; that
the intervals were due to the patches Of
dead leaves in its course, and that the
varying movement was the effect of Its
progress through obstacles and underbrush
1t was, therefore, coming through some
'bllnd" cut off In the thick-set wood. The
shifting OF the sound also showed that the
rider was unfamiliar with the locality,
and sometimes wandered from the direct
persistency OF the sound, In spite of these
difficulties, Indicated haste and deter
mination.
He swung his gun from his shoulder and
examined its caps. AS the sound came
nearer he drew up beside young spruce at
the entrance of the thicket. There was
no necessity to alarm the house, or call the
other sentry. Ii was single horse and
rider, and he was equal to that. He wait
ed quietly and with his usual fateful pa
tience Even then his thoughts still re-
verted to his wife and It was with a sim
Gular feeling that he at last saw the thick
uDderbrush give way before a woman,
mounted on a sweating, but still spirit
ed horse, who swept out into the open.
Nevertheless. he stopped in front of her and
called:
Hold up tharr'
The horse recoiled, nearly unseatinS her. |
Coiibson caught the reins. She lifted her
whip mechanically, yet remained holding |
it in the air, trembling until she slipped, half |
struggling, half helplessly, from the sad
die TO the ground. Here she would have
again fallen but Colinson caught her sharp |
ly by the wrist At his touch she started |
and uttered q frightened Nor At her |
voice ColliDson started.
''sadie"' he gasped.
"Sethr' she half whispered.
ITO be continued.)