The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1896-12-03


cried about | am sure | did not know
One thing I should never dare face
Ransom Dart again. l felt that one
Of those bronze eyes would annihilate
my cowardly soul. | kept in nv
chamber till | saw him 90 away to the
fields, and then | went down and told
Mrs. Dart that [ must be taken to the
nearest station at once. Tim, the
hired man, could take me in the big
wagon. Tim. had got lame wrist,
CT something that kept him OFT Of the
wheat field, but | insisted that he
could drive we'll enough to take me
to the station, and | out talked them
both and had my way.
am sure | don't know whether |
was gladdest or sOrriest when | found
myself safe away toward the station
L know | was In horrible fright lest
Ransom Dart should make his appear
ance before we could get off. but | |
cried behind my veil all the way to
the station. Mrs. Dart had been very
kind to me, and | had no fault to find
with her son, except that he should
have asked me to marry him.
Well, was aboard the cars at last, |
had just waved my good by to Tim. |
and settled into my seat, with my veil |
down, for good Cry, when somebody |
said familiarly, and quite in my ear:
You are not crying, Miss Berwick"
and there, IN the seat back of me, was
Ransom Dart. He wore the suit he
generally donned Sundays at home,
and his face was paler than usual.
[ did not faint or cry ont. | just |
said. in a very uncertain voice:
why, Mr.. Dart, is that you?" and |
shrank into the corner of my seat.
At M, where the cars stopped |
for lunch, Mr.. Dart br> ught me cup
of tea and some edibles. | could !
touch nothing but the tea, and scarce
ly dared thank him for the courtesy. !
He did not approach me again until |
reached my destination.
Then he secured me a carriage, and |
gravely said good bye. | lived in
daily dread then of call from him.
lie came my reception night, when
the hOuse was full of the most aristo-
cratic, empty headed loungers that
him in his country Sunday suit, but l
don't think he knew it. He seemed
to have genuine contempt for my
guests generally.
He came again the following morn
ing. | trembled at the thought Of
seeing him alone. [ blessed every
presence that kept me from being
alone with him. He took quiet cor
ner, and sat out long series of calls
from the guests Of the previous eve
ming. When the last one had depart
ed, he went also.
At theatre, opera, picture gallery
upon the drive or shopping, whenever
[ went, | met Ransom Dart-quiet,
unobtrusiye-seldom addressing me.
He was always present in my thoughts,
very often to my eye.
One night | was going out to some
festivity. The carriage received me;
| was alone. l was to take up friend
on the way. | leaned back thought
ful, and little gloomy. [ was the
latter often at that time. Life, since
my return from the country, seemed
stale, Improbable. Somehow [ did
not care for the things that had before
been my pleasure. Suddenly | reused
to the consciousness that it was time
the carriage stopped | spoke to the
driver. He pulled up close by de
serted street lamp, and lifting his cap
showed me Ransom Darts face. He
got down from the coachman's box and
came near me. He spoke IN a grave,
deliberate tone
Il have watched you carefully. Miss
Berwick, and the crowd that follow.
| have satisfied myself that, among
the men that dangle in your train,
there Is not one so nearly worthy of
you as | am. | have satisfied myself
that there Is not one that you care
more for than you do for me: nav
more-not one that you treat with the
kindness you nave, IN the past, gener-
Ously bestowed on me. | will no. see
you sacrifice yourself and me- [ will
kill you first, and myself also. | shall
mount the coachman's box again: [
shall drive till you promise to marry
me, if it's not TIL hundred years
from now, and if you call out to anv
one to deliver you from my power,
will shoot you where you sit, and then
blow out my own brains
lie replaced his cap: he mounted
the box again, cracked his whip and
we were off.
imagine my sensations. Nobody
ever could. L don't know as any one
could believe me. but | was happier
during the hour that succeeded than /
ever was before Women ale such
anomalies You know. 1t took me the
whole of that hour, though, to get my
voice; bnt at last | said, "kansom."
scarcely above my breath. but he
heard me. and stopped the carriage.
w ell? he questioned.
"lou may take me home again. l
always meant to marry You, though [
didn't know it myself" [ said petuant-
ly.
He gave utterauce to prolonged
whistle. turned the horses
heads, cracked his whip. and back we
went faster than we nal come out.
" ell, L did marry him: | couldn't
help myself And | can't say | have
ever been sorry, though i have learn
ed, since my marriage, that Ransom
had nothing about him that night
more deadly than a coachman's whip
Or course l supposed he had got an
ever so many barrelled revolver hid
away under his overcoat.
Isn't that very slow horse of yours?'
We'll, he isn't much for speed; but he's
easily frightened and rms AWAY q oco1