The Wilmington daily Republican. (Wilmington, Del.) 1890-1902, 1897-06-07

down TO the wood and along the old path,
and you will DO waiting here The timo
win seem long You will think cannot
be coming. Then suddenly foolish black
bird will shrek AWAY yonder, and In mo-
ment shall be here and you will be mine
forever"
Rachel turned her eyes upon him. nj
am that now" she said. II am yours for
ever. But, oh, come back to me quickly.
Waking or sleeping, shall be watching
that pathway until you are returned
And shall be thinking of you who are
waiting for me here" he said. "Remem-
Der that, and be sure that will come
back to you"
The last Of the birds had ceased from
singing when the lovers rose and quilted
Rachel's bower among the woods They
traversed the pathway slowly and came at
last to the terrace. Eustace entered and
said goodby to Rachel's father, and pres
emily the lovers parted and the young
man strobe out under the trees of the high
way and SO home
The time which came after this parting
may be guessed at by oil who know how
the war went. Rachel lived in perpetual
fever of expectation, for the region where
letters and newspapers alike came to hand
all too slowly. She used often to visit the
green glade in the woods, and, though she
maintained the outward serenity Of her
aspect, her father was not little troubled
on her behalf, seeing, despite her efforts at
concealment, how love held back the PEN
dulum of her life until this man should be
returned who had gone for an indefinite
period into place where men were dying
daily.
II dreamed of you last night" said the
distant lover in ono Of his letters. II
dreamed that the day we were hoping for
had come at last and that was coming
down the pathway to meet you In the
woods. found you there, of course, and
think you had grown more beautiful
than ever. Do you wait in the woods?"
Rachel's answer was this II am always
in the woods, whether in dreams or in the
body. You could not come back, though,
If 1t were ever so secretly, and find me not
waiting"
The letters came internationally, and
there was that in them-rather Of things
left vague than of things said-that sent
Rachel often to thetrysting placeup the val
ley. The spring came very slowly, but the
yellow primroses were out, and amid green
leaves the young hyacinth had already
faint tinge of blue She spent hours in
the very place where she had sat with Eu-
STAGE when they were together for the last
time, and her heart followed her eyes down
the woodland pathway and across the seas
For at last there were no more letters,
and as these failed to arrive the girl be-
came more eager every day for the news
papers, more terribly afraid to open them
because of the news they might hold. Her
father watched her with growing anxi-
city, and was forever seeking to allay her
fears, while ut the same time he was ex-
ceeding loath to give them tho support that
recognition of their existence would have
involved.
He himself was seriously afraid for Eus-
tace, though there was no particular reason
why he should be more unfortunate than
his brothers. The old man saw anxiety
and fear were telling on his daughter;
that from healthy woman sho had be-
come within few days mere bundle Of
nerves. One morning (known aftorward
as the day when Eustace got the wound
that was to kill him) she suddenly uttered
a loud cry as she sat at lunch with him,
and 1t was long before she revived from
the fainting fit which Immediately ensued.
From that hour Rachel's condition be-
came more and more a cause Of solioitude.
Her father was unhappy whenever she was
out of his sight, and that was frequently,
for something drew her to the trysting
place among the woods, and carly and late
she would go down there and sit in the
place where she mad sat with Eustace and
where she had promised to await him
whenever he should be able to return.
Some hint of the state of affairs prevailing
at tho big house had gone abroad among
the impressionable people of the country
side, and the glade where she waited was
held sacred to her and sedulously avoided.
But at last ION the third day from that
of her fainting fit and toward the end of
the afternoon) she went down alone, and
when it was dark she had not returned.
For long time her father suppressed his
natural unrest, but presently he found
that the servants were oppressed, like him
self, by an infinite, nervous dread. He de-
termined to go down to tho heart of tho
woods and bring Rachel homo. One or
two servants accompanied him, bearing
lanterns
A thin mist had dulled the sky and hid
den the stars. They walked in absolute
silence, and the night was like a hugo
empty house in which their footsteps
echoed.
Fear was upon them, and a sense Of
something terrible impending made them
wavcr betwiXt eagerncss to go forward and
dread of what they were to come upon.
At the edge Of the woodlands the old man
paused and cried, "Rachel, RaChelr'
A duh echo was the only answer, and
they moved on in the direction of the
glade. Once orain the old man raised his
voice and called upon his daughter,
"RachCl, Rachell'
But she answered to that call an hour
earlier when her lover came to meet her in
the glade, at tho moment Of his death
across the seas. She was sitting under tho
great tree where they had spent their last
hours in life together. The radiant smile
had not yet gone from her lips, nor was
there any horror in the eyes that stared
across the glade and down the woodland
path by which he had sworn to come back
when he was free.-London Black and