Hot Springs weekly star. (Hot Springs, S.D.) 1892-1917, 1899-04-28

CHAPTER NvI.-Continued0
1t may have been hours, minutes, sec
onds-1olandc does not know which
When there come IL crash, followed immc-
oiately by a stunned, dazcd feeling on her
own part; then all is dark and silent for
q space. 1t may be long. or short-shc
cannot tell; for her spirit floats off into
some misty dreamland, and she is as un-
conscious Of the pains, dangers or scnsa-
ions of the body as if it had nothing
whatever to do with her.
When She does come back to conscious
ness, however, she finds herself supported
IN a mans strong, tender arms; Il voice,
broken and unsteady from a great fear
II a great lovingncss, is calling on her
name.
Are you hurt?' he asks, anxiously.
1.-THE hedge broke IL fall. / know; but do
try to tell me if you're injured. oh. hcav-
en-! how shall l ever forgive myself for
putting you into such danger"
What is to be done now?' she asks,
dismally. "Where are wc:'
TN a field mt present. he ris-
ing from his knees and looking about him.
Its Il mercy we're not killed. re-
marks Yolandc, turning very pale as the
memory of the furious race comes back
to her mind. ''Thc question is. what are
we to do now? Are we far from the
Hall?"
II am afraid So" her com
panion, anNiously, as he glanccs around
the fast-lurlSening landscape: for. though
1T is not yet five O'clock. the evening
shadows are falling, and the last rays of
daylight are scarcely visible behind the
range of mountains to the west.
SHnyv YnoNN ,,itnv ln ,.D,, +l;,,l.S's ,,,
sues Yolandc.
Ten at least" he says. resrctfully. 81
suppose you are not equal to walking
that?"
- must do my best" the girl answers
S>zhtly. we can't stay hcre-that's
..s'y evident. l suppose there is no chance
of any of the other carriages overtaking
us?"
II fear not. You see they are to go
home by the L%lanfyrterm %road-quitc in
the opposite direction. But, if we CONF
up to q cottage, you might rest there,
while l send u message to the Hall for 81
j.. trap"
rs not that a light-there?' cries the
girl suddenly. ~"Look-shining just be-
hind that group of %trees!"
Il see" he says, quickly. eyes, it GER
tainly is. Here is u tield-path leading to
it. l think it is one of the farms near
Pwyn Dyas; that dark pile there to the
right is the ruins of the old church. Well,
o will soon be able to rest now. Once
at the farm, l cnn send n message to the
Hall. and they will let us have a trap in
an hour or so. Are you very tired!"
Indeed l am," answers the girl,
YEARLY.
1t is very pleasant in the cosy kitchen
of the cottagc they soon reach, and Sir
Edward insists upon Miss Mervyn's boots
being removed and put to dry, and per-
suadcs the good-naturcd hostess to make
them some hot tea, and behaves altogeth-
err in such n frank, eldcr-brotherly manner
that Yolande feels all the awkwardness
of the situation vanish, and sits content
eddy on her high-backcd chair with her
little stocllinged feet on the fender and
her damp shining hair Embossed and fall
ing around her-a picture of beauty and
comfort upon which Sir Edward feasts
his eyes unsparingly.
After the tea. however, she finds her
eyes grow strangely heavy, and her head
aches and throbs SO violently, that the
slightest motion or noise is painful in the
extreme. DO what she can, her eyes will
close: and the chatter of the Wclsllwoman
becomes more ana more lnulSll1lct.
Another half-hour passes before the
welcome sound of wheels is heard; and
then, when Sir Edward has given the
mistress of the farm a sovereign for her
trouble, and wrapped Yolande in n thick
scarlet shawl she insists upon lending her,
they get into the carriage. and are soon
driving rapidly away through the storm
and gloom of the wild night.
That STRANGE lcnOuO,. and f,t;O,,o c+o,1
again and again over Yolande's aching
body. She feels as if a heavy weight
were lying on her chest, and every mo-
ment breathing becomes more difficult.
She is alarmed, and yet too weary and
faint to speak about it. Suddenly, after
II of the long shivers, she begins to
cough-a harsh, hoarse, terrible cough,
that sounds even worse to the ears that
hear it than to herself.
20, you are ill-you are s%uffering!!" he
cries in an agonizcd voice that sounds
dull and far away to her ears.
She mn contradict him; she feels
that speech is almost beyond her strength
with the dead heavy weight on her chest,
the strange oppression i'll her labored
breath. She is beyond nil resistance
when he takes her in his kind strong
nrms and lays her head against his shout
der, drawing the warm crimson folds Of
her shawl more closely round the slender
figure, and mulmuring tender, gentle
words as a mother might murmur to her
sick child.
AT last the carriage stops. She has no
notion of time or place. She is just bare
~ conscious of u group of frightened
faces, of n buzz of anxious voices; and
then some one carries her up the broad
oak stairs, and some one else takes off
her clothes, and she is laid in the softest
Of white nests-too utterly spent and
weary to speak, or care, or look Mt her
attendant, who is no other than kind
hearted, faithful Rose.
CHAPTER XVII.