Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1899-02-02
CHAPTER VI.

Inc morning sun Is uoou1AS oAA LIN
dainty pink-and-white chamberwhen 70
lande awakes the next day.
At first the pretty eyes look wlstfuly
round, then the languid lids close over
them once more.
'What has happened since yesterday
she asked herself. "Why does my heart
feel so heavy, and so sad!"
Soon enough the answer comes. The
waves Of sorrow roll back in freshly
weighted numbers, breaking over mem
DRY, and dashing fercely and swiftly
against the self-erected barriers OF pride.
81 must try to be like my old self" she
says, as with trembling fingers she fast-
ems her cambria morning dress and knots
the pale-blue ribbon round her snowy
slender throat mo one must see, no
one must know. 1t is my secret; and L
shall keep it as long as l live.
AS she turns away, and is about to
leave the room, sound strikes upon her
ear that seems to transfx her with nor
ror It is the great bell Of Beechhampton
ringing loud and clear in the golden sunny
beauty of the early day.
Floating over the dark green WOODS,
comes that strange, mournful, warning
sound. Yolande hears it, and shlVers
from head to foot. Never does that Dell
ring except for death or disaster to some
member of the Charters household. only
once before in her memory has that sound
been heard, and then death and woe lay
heavy on their home. Whittier than the
folds of her gown, Yolande stands and
listens, a wild look Of horror IN her hXed
ewes. a sobbing sigh bursting from her
pale, quivering lips.
lis it for him?" she gasps, and stag
gers to a chair and kneels down in agony
unutterable, burying her face in her hands
as if to shut out the mournful note, which
ever and anon floats in through the open
window like an omen OF Ill.
In a moment the door is thrown open.
Enid and vi rush in wildly.
"Yolande, Yolande, do you hear the
bell? Something must have happened at
the Priory Yolande-"
''Hushv says vi softly. Don't you
see. Enid, she is saying her prayers"
They stand quite still, hand locked in
hand, gazing at the kneeling figure so 81
lent and so still now. The stiffness awes
them. They look at each other in pale
wonder.
SIS she ill?' whispers one softly.
Then Enid approaches and lays her
hand upon the shoulder of the kneeling
girl, She never moves. Frightened and
bewildered, she beckons to vi, and they
draw away the hands from Yolande's
face.
| 1t is white and cold as death.
/ ''She has faintedr' cries Enid in terror.
And they lay her Dawn with gentle hands
and dash water over her face; and vi
runs off in haste for assistance.
Yolande's trance of insensibility lasts
so long that the whole household are filled
with fear and anxiety. Never before in
the remembrance of any one has she been
known to faint. When she at last recov-
ers, they lay her back gently on her pretty
white bed; and Enid promises to bring up
her breakfast, if she will only lie still and
rest and not attempt to come down stairs
again. This Yolande promises gladly
enough. She feels thoroughly ill and worn
out, Her nerves are unstrung. Her head
throbs as if hammer were beating her
aching brain. A great dread has seized
her breast She cares for nothing now
but to be left in peace, bearing her mis-
cry as best she can, fearing to have her
fears realized.
Ere the day is many hours older, news
comes from Beechhampton Priory. Den
iii Charters is missing. He had gone out
after luncheon on the previous day, and
no one has seen or heard of him since. His
aunt and cousin are frantinc with fear.
Messages are sent in every direction to
the houses Of all his friends and acquaint-
ances, in the faint hope that he may have
stayed at some house for the night. The
answer is always the same. No one has
seen him Or heard anything of him since
noon of the day on which he so unac-
countably disappeared
All this Yolande hears at intervals
hears with white set face, the agony of
which makes every one wonder. The
next day and the next pass, and still with
no result. Yolande is very i'll. OF time
she has no knowledge, of days she has no
count. The hours sweep by, and the
shadows of anxiety deepen with each, and
her sisters voices lose their gay ring, and
her fathers face is lined with heavier
care; and her young lover comes and de-
parts like a restless spirit with all the
light and gladness gone out of his sad
eyes and once CHEEKY face.
But at length she grows better. One
night, when the heat and stiffness Of the
summer air still brood over the outer
world, when cool faint breeze rustles the
roses at her window with a soft rush of
melancholy music, when solitude and
silence, starlighted and full of peace and
rest as only summer night can be,
brood over earth and sky, she opens her
eyes.
She remembers all-the lover she has re-
jected, the anguish she has borne, the
horror of that hour when she heard his
doom in the changing sound of the warning
bell. And then, at last, when courage
comes to her to ask the question that ever
trembles on her lips, she learns that the
mystery of his disappearance is still un-
solved. that of his fate no certain news
has reached the ears of any one since that
fatal summer day. Then a doubt creeps
into her heart and blanches her cheeks to
yet deeper pallor.
"Should I have told?'' she thinks. "Was
wrong in concealing it so long! Oh, l
cannot-I cannotv' she sobs, and buries