Vilas County news. [volume] (Eagle River, Vilas County, Wis.) 1896-1927, 1899-01-02

and that your LdCnGr, our udAu1oA "
would never gle his consent that /
should wed thee. No, no! Robert, we
must part for sure; we must obey our
parents, though our hearts do break!
Bursting into tears now, the young
maiden nestled closer to her lover, the
thought of their final separation pre-
venting her from Disgusting the real
state of her feelings and affections.
Long and earnestly the pair con-
versed- neither aware that, crouched
down in the adjacent cornf1elds, big
burly man was stealthily watching
their every action.
Only as they rose and walked away
in the direction of a neighboring lane
with pollard oaks did the crouching,
covering figure come out from his con-
cealment.
He was wild Orson of fellow that
spied upon the maid and the young
farmer: a man some six feet in height,
with a shock of red hair, a visage i'm
purpled with drink, and his whole ap-
pearance forbidding and repulsive.
Raising on high his clenched fists, he
shook them savagely and menaclngly
in the direction pursued by the lovers.
"Oh, OH forest-bred vagabond! rep
! rebate am I? Look to 'urself, Bob
Dormer-I owes thee father a debt, and
I owes thee now heavier-an' I'll pay
both, I will, with interest! Gloster be
large county, but it beant large
enough to hold you and |, Bob Dormer.
One on us will have to go under, that's
sure! With deep-breathed impreca-
ton, the herculean man now hurried
away in the direction taken by his
rival and his cousin shortly before.
The forest of Dene, in the western
district of Worcestershire, is about 20
miles long, one portion AUDITING ON the
Wye, Astounding in woodland scenes of
tranquil beauty, another portion
stretching to the Severn, being holder
and more romantic in its features. It
was near the Severn that Farmer Dor
mer's homestead was situated.
Upon the borders of the forest, and
about couple of miles from the farm,
stood a pretty cottage, tenanted by a
Mrs. Ruth Rayburn and her only child,
the charming Dolly, the belle of the
adjacent village.
The harvest moon was shining
bright and clear, when, after a clandes-
tine meeting in Pollard Oak lane, as it
was called, Bob Dormer, his heart full
of joy at the promise he had won from
his loved ones lips that she would be
his and no others, with rapid strides
made his way along the mOon-lit glade,
unconscious of shadOWy form that,
gliding and lodging among the situated
dwarf oaks, logged his every footstep.
Once during his journey, the young
farmer, fancying he heard a cracking
of twigs and sound as though an
other pedestrian was following the
same course as himself, came to a sud
den halt, peering intently and sus-
piciously around.
Aware that poachers and dissolute
rough miners sometimes scrupled not
to waylay a peaceful wayfarer, Bob,
for several minutes, his hand grasping
his heavy-knotted walking-stick, stood
prepared for a tussle from any foe who
might start upon him; and then as the
moot of an owl and the sweet song of
the nightingale woke up the stiffness,
his own shadow alone being thrown
upon the sWard, he once more hurried
on in the direction of his fathers farm
With feeling akin to fear, the
young farmer, continuing his way, at
length gained the summit of Beakenery
HILL and descending its rugged sides,
after some more sharp walking, drew
near mill, the stream, or mead, of
which tumbled down to a level below,
and then ran smoothly on within a
stones throw of the farmers home
stead.
Gazing meditatively at the shining
luminary overhead, and lost in pleas
urable reverie, Bob heard not a
stealthy, catlike tread behind him,
and in a second of time a crushing
blow falling on his head, he staggered
| back senseless.