The Wilmington daily Republican. (Wilmington, Del.) 1890-1902, 1897-06-28
THE TRUANT.

,,..
1T am aware that the truth of midnight
does not exclude the truth of MONDAY,
though ones nature may lead him to
dwell In the former rather than the latter. I"
The wall surrounding the Place of Vel.
low Brick Is built of the same material,
and partly In steps, because the ground
runs down hill. Outside Its northern face
are broken road, disheveled palings, o
clump of stunted FIR trees and breeny brown
downland stretching into the mist of dis.
lance; inside 1t pigsties, gas works and
vegetable plots. All this part of the seen.
cry is fixed. Nobody but the county coun.
Gil can alter it, and 1t likes 1t as 1t is.
Four O'Clock on November afternoon.
A man hoeing one of the vegetable plots,
and the sun looking at tho whole map Of
them slantwise with watery smile. A
thrush In the FIR clump mingling its song
with the click of the hoe against the
fiints. That particular scene can never DO
reproduced, not even by the county council.
At the end of the last row but three of
his plot the man stopped and looked back
at his work.
"Only three more" he said, land
them He checked himself, and with an
uneasy, haggard glance at the wall bent
to his task again.
Another row done; another halt. Then
an uncomfortable impulse seized him, and
he knelt down, covering his eyes with his
hand.
LEAD as not into temptation" he said.
"Why do they give me plot so near tho
WALTZ 1t comes over me worse today"
He continued hoeing with an effort. 1t
was cold day, but the perspiration stood
thick on his forehead, because there was
something In his head working, too, hard
er than the hoe, 1t was perhaps only
coincidence, but the last row was finished
just as the head work became too swift
and pressing to permit of it. He did not
raise his eyes, but looked hard at the
ground at his feet. The cloud lifting from
his brain created strange series of pangs,
which made him afraid to move.
"1t's almost past bearing" he said
gently,
The thrush was singing louder in the fir
clump, and the syn cast one final CLEAN
before disappearing behind the bank of
black cloud in the west.
''1t is my last chance" said the man
louder. And the yellow wall cast it back
in his teeth-"last chance"
That decided for him. He shouldered
his hoe and shuflled down between the
rows to the wall, stopping opposite a but
tress. Without further thought of how or
why he planted tho hoo against the wall,
crooked his fingers round the farther side
of tho buttress, and placed heel on pro-
jecting brick. In moment his other foot
was on the top of the hoe and his hand
touched the coping The drop ON the out
CT side was % yard more than ho had to
climb, and the shock sent him staggering
into the muddy road with sensation of
Jared heels and knees unstrung. A strange,
dead pain shot through him as no straight
encd himself and looked round. The feel
ing Of outlines had disappeared. He left
1t with his hoe on the other side of the
wall. He had no fears now-no, nor
doubts His path was clear, across the
stretch Of down into the mist. With
quick step he set out, stumbling over the
flints and little, stubborn bushes, now
picking his way, now pushing doggedly
ahead, regardless of obstacles. In spite
of the roughness of the ground, in spite of
growing breathlessness, there came to him
comforting sense of triumph and prog
ress.
Farther and farther The mist, it seemed
to him, must be getting much nearer
now, though 1t looked as far off as ever.
Suddenly the well known tones of a bell
made him start and wheel round. There
was the wall few hundred yards away,
and the chimneys of the dreadful place he
had left standing out sharply against the
sky. He stood for a moment irresolute.
The dusk was sweeping up in waves now
as tho jagged ropes of black cloud fled ono
by ono into the waning light. He well
coined 1.-THE coming darkness. 1t would
DO time for peaceful reflection after the
turmoil of the last few hours Only no
must find hidin.y place first. Anywhlth-
er then as his feet might lead him. 1t
would not take very long, and he was not
quite tired out On no went, in o zigzag
course athwart the slope, in his own
Imagination striding along, without look
ing right or left, and compelling his grow
ing thoughts within their lair, till he
should have leisure to draw them forth.
The decrcpit figure, with its wildly way
ing hands, made strange appearance as
1t amhlcd across the rutty road at tho foot
of the slope and dived helplessly into the
scrub and thorn bushes beyond. His
hoarse painting sounded strangely through
the still air, and he was muttering be-
tween his sobs. You might have heard
him had yoa been there for some seven
minutes more. Then would have fallen
on your ears u sound of cracking twigs;
then silence. Sinking down where the
straight stems of hazel grew thin in the
middle of the shaw, a delicious sense of
wrapt up solitude stole over him, shutting
out everything but self, and waiting him
imperceptibly into n strange land of half
awakened memories and half unrcalized
dreams. The damp moss on which he rest
cd became to him as light AS clouds, and
he iioatcd on it to and fro, in gradually
paradise, which was his own.
There was no Impotence in his soul for
the full glory of the vision. He would
wait gladly for its appointed time. To
look from side to side and sec softly illu-
mined faces in constant gaze on his was
enough, almost more than enough. And |
how he sank a little farther bnck and
raised ono arm above his head. The light
was brighter, and an indistnct outline of
houses rose out of the cloud. The faint
'wop wop' Of q black bird, who had been
disturbed by this intrusion into his native
shaw, and who was now returning by
stages from far corner, awokc him. Tho
bird, as is its wont, few past, tutoring a
shrek opposite to his hiding place. He
lid not quite realize where he was. Dark
less had settled on black and impenetr-
lie, and the chill of night was beginning
o numb his hands and feet But he woke
nough to know that he had beon dream
ng, and that the growing brightness of
he vision was really the gradual clearing
# his brain. The reason of his life within
he yellow wall all came to him dirnly. But
S he tried to reckon up the years he became
ired and returned to the vision. Tho
aces were clearer and tho land brighter.