Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1900-04-05

7 aims flung their silvery spray-oyer
beds of sleeping flowers. and glacelui
nymphs and roguish fawns ma theIf
marble forms amid clumps of SHRUB
bery-down the steep river path, artls.
tically shielded by dwarf trees anu
tangled vines. that seemed lung 10
gether in one Of natures most trouck-
some moods-over the stone wall tha'
here marked the boundary of the CNNe
estate. Sybil fled like a hunted o
The white wrapper she wore was wet
with dew; the Shetland shawl she Il
thrown over her head and shoulders
was heavy and damp. But she did not
feel the chill touch Of the night air h a
crppt up, laden with mtsts, from the
river. Her cheeks were burning. her
head thrObbing with a fever heat, lha'
no breeze. no moisture could allay.
She had no right, no place, III d II
princely home. whose stately SHADOW
doomed up so darkly behind e Nay
perhaps-perhaps she had the trueS''
best right; but it could never be as
serted. never be acknowledged, never
be obtained.
II was a right that had been a curse
| of her past-and she pressed her mana
to her wildly-beating heart-and would
be a more dark aud bitter curse to her
future.
Fannie and Herbert. those two bright.
Joyous beings who had Striyen 10 fling
their own glad sunshine over her shad-
owed lite-whO would not see, would
not recognize, the barrier that separat-
ed them-had taken her by the hand,
and. despite her own will, led her into
the howery paths in which they
Oh, heaven, what cruel, evil fate was
it that made her their enemy-their en-
envy by birth. their enemy by BLOOD,
their enemy by a dark ana awful vow
a dreadful vow, TO which the dead had
borne witness, and that echoed still, Ill
all its first fierce passion, through the
storms and changes of five-aud-twenty
years:
A shudder convulsed the young girls
frame, as she paused for a moment in
her rapid fight 10 take breath and look
around her.
She was at the foot Of the hill on
which Give Towers was situated, and
the broad river rolled in silvery waves
almost at her feet-that same river
whose tossing waters she and Herbert
NV "atGhtu VII III hlSIh l-Il vi tiSiA
acquaintance. a brief THREE weeks ago.
He had said then that some intuition
told him that they would be warm
friends yet; and were they not friends?
Aye, that pale. agonized face. that
~quivering lip, added more than friends.
Had she been mad, or dreaming. for
the past three weeks? What feeling
was 1t she had allowed { o creep into
her heart? What Lethe-draught had
she tasted. that she had dared. even
for one brief instant, to think of hap
piness-she, Sybil Wraye, the nameless
outcast. unfit TO breathe the air, to
break the bread, to tread the ground,
with the happier ones of earth?
How those stern. naughty words had
stung her! What a poisoned dart they
had left in her already tortured heart!
But 1t was no time to brood owe them
now The imperative summons she had
received that evening must be obeyed.
In the graveyard by the river, someone
awaited her who must not wait in
vain.
She had a dim recollection OF the
place. She had been taken there once
before, years and years ago, when q
namelesS grave had been opened, and.
III the solemn stiffness OF q summer
midnight, her mother had been laid
away to rest.
She could not be far from the spot
now Aye, those dark old yews,
stretching out their hcary branches
just beyond her. shaded the moss.
grown gate that led to the family bur-
ial place of the Gives.
Il Tf had limo aorC haan ahanJannJ ~,
the family at the Towers. Old Basil
Give was the last of the mburied there.
and his grave was green with the sun.
shine and showers of fiye-and-twenty
years.
The dark old gravestones were crum-
bling away. and the grass grew long
and rank: only the stout fence, Whose
timbers defied the attacks OF time, and
a certain terror that surrounded the
spot, prevented the grave yard of the
naughty Gives from being turned into
a pasture or picnic ground.
The present Mr.. Give did not even
recognize the bit of wildwood as n Dor
tion OF his property, and took no heed
OF its neglect OF desolation, though his
own parents lay buried therein.
SYPHILIS mind was too clear and strong
to be influenced by superstitious fear.
but she could not repress the feeling OF
natural awe that crept over her as she
crossed over the mOss-grown threshold
of the gate that led into this abode of
the dead.
High above all the other tottering
monuments rose the granite shaft.
Sacred to the Memory of Basil Give"
and beneath 1t stood a man whose tall,
athletic form seemed as strong and en-
during as the granite i.self-a man
whose bronzed face and dark. fierce
eyes frightened and softened into
wordrous tenderness as Sybil, with a
low cry, half joy. half pain. sprang into
his arms and called him Father
MY brave girl!' he answered. In n
voice whose deep tones quiyered with
emotion. Il knew you would not fear
to come, though we have to choose
strange and lonely meetings, my Sybil.
1t will not always be thus, my darling
twill not always be thus"
"You are In danger here" she said.
I ,clinging to his bosom. and lifting her
pale, anxious face to HIS ooh, father,
| dear fathert-why did Won come hare IN