The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1897-08-28
"A DAUGHTER OF THE GODS"

down her cheeks-the notion was so
funny Louisa's notions often were.
Love mel Mr.. Royce Why, II he
wore elevators in his boots he. would
barely reach to my shoulder. 1t never
occurred to me that the little manikin
could fall in love. How absurd"
Louisa turned, almost angriy.
Though it has not occurred to you,
it might to him. And you are such a
fool that YOU can not see the man in
him! You make me impatient, Anna,
Flirt with Gerald Maxwell by all
| means; It is all you are fit for"
| to the manor. Gerald Maxwell overlook
"Why are you cross, Lu? Mr..
Royce's clever. and I like him; he is
very kind. Poor little scrap! l like
him very much. But he is in love with
his academy pictures, not with me-"
SO, through the glorious September
| days Anna golfed, hunted and cycled
with Gerald; and the artist painted,
trying to forget the pain which held
him in its grasp. He sought in his
| bruised soul to rejoice that the man
| of whom her choice would probably
fall was at least a healthy-minded,
honest country gentleman; he only
| asked humbly that she might be hap
py. He stuck doggedly to his picture
| he said he was too busy to play-and
| he kept his pain, he believed. locked
| in his own breast: but the queer, up
| right burrows were on his forehead as
on Louisa's, and they deepened as
| the days went by.
He had been painting hard down by
| the wood until the afternoon sun was
low; at last he put up his brushes
and started on his two-mile walk back
him, and the two men went together.
| They stopped at the foot of the rail-
way embankment lounging against the
| rail, to watch the express pass: they
could hear her laundering in the dis
| tance, and waited TO see her sweep
| round the bend to the left, dash across
| the straight piece of line before them,
and then take the curve to the right.
| Gerald was in high spirits, whistling
carelessly in the pauses of his talk.
The artist stood silent content to lis
| ten. Then to their right, along the
| line, came the beat OF flying hOofs.
| both men turned to see, and both gave
| a simultaneous exclamation of horror,
as round the bend, out of all control,
| galloped headlong beside the metals
! Annals bay mare, tearing furiously
on toward the rushing, train, then
rounding the opposite curve. Anna
sat back in her saddle, white as death,
| trying to stay the runaway, but pow
erless against the creatures mad fright
"She may pass safely on one side"
| gasped Gerald.
| Even as he spoke the mad brute
plunged into the center of the iron road;
she seemed for the first time to sight
the train whistling and screaming out
| it's warning, but powerless to check in
time. She reared straight up, and then
| stood planted and immovable in the
center of the metals, staring, paralyzed
with terror, at the advancing monster
1t had happened in a second or so,
| leaving but scant time for thought or
action. Both men shouted to the girl
to fling herself Off but she, too, seemed
turned to stone; she sat dumb, look
ing before her with agonized eyes,
though her trembling hands yet me-
chanically strove to turn the horse. In
half a minute it would be too late.
Gerald flung up his arms, shouting his
warning. He stood there alone the
artist was gone; he had scaled the steep
| embankment, his small, 1.-THE figure
springing up it like cat: one hand,
|
else, was on the horses bride backing
her a step to one side, the other was
on the girl, pressing her from the sad
die, telling her to fall-to trust him and
to fall. Thank heaven! She under
stood and obeyed. Amid the thunder
and crash of the train he knew that she
had swung clear of the metals. There
was blow, and he was down, and all
! was dark
1t was a miraculous escape. Maxwell
| wiped the moisture from his brow as
he told the story; Royce had rushed in
with the train almost on him, when it
had seemed that horse, man and girl
must all be cut to pieces; nothing but
his wonderful quickness had saved
Anna, who, bruised and shaken, had
yet fallen clear of worse harm. Poor
Black Bess was cut to pieces. Royce's
face was terribly cut by the blow which
had felled him, yet, mercfully, he had
fallen, stunned, in the hollow between
the rails, and so had escaped with his
life; but he would never paint more, his
right arm had been frightfully crushed !;
amputation had to follow as his only
| hope of life.
The Manor people nursed him devot-
|
could do could, they felt, repay what
they owed to him. He was very CRATE
full for their care and attention. He
made no allusion TO his ruined career,
though his eye sometimes rested on the
half-tinished picture which stood in his
room. He looked resolutely at the re-
Election of his SCARED face, at the
empty right sleeve. He had all his
life looked at trouble between the eyes
he had never shirked or quailed before
it, The mans spirit, at least, was no
small one. But as Christmas neared
and he grew fairly convalescent, he
began to grow restless. In spite of
protest, he declared himself we'll enough
to return to his rooms i'm town. He had
stayed at the Manor to paint, now he
must trespass no longer.
Dear old chap, why go?" said Jack.
"The mater worships you. Can we not
amuse you here2 Anna will try to;
she will read to you, sing to you Sure
ly you might stay for Christmas with
tus?"
He lay very still when Jack left him,
looking out at the red winter sun and
the wheeling rocks in the park elms.
Yes, Anna would be good TO him; he
J knew that She had been kind-so