The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1900-07-18
III PemjfemGs
ID

when he was. for he was known to be a
queer, erratic being. He was believed to
| nave no relatives on this side Of the
| world, and public opinion ccniectured
| tndt ne had taken ship and gone home to
his people. And here he had persisted,
far from all kindly human sounds, in
this mockery of green. silent beauty! II
made Jack shudder afresh
In the dead mans pocketbook he found
crisp bank notes for ESQ. Good Godi
Had he had these yesterday he had not
| now been a murderer! He bowed his,
nead' then started up wildly, for he
seemed to hear footsteps gathering all
| around him and voices accusing him
1rcm every tree. In an agony of fear
MS resolution was taken. He would take
| this mans clothes and personata him in
his hermit's hut till the crime had blown
| over sufficiently for him to slip off to
australia with safety. Anything rather
| than be taken!
II was nearly midnight when he reached
the deserted sod hut, for he was footsora
ana YEARLY and walked but slowly. It
was cloudless summer night, and the
moon was at her full Under such skies
SS IneSe even the rugged hills looked
loVely, folded into soft, ample curves in
the quiet moonlight. And the noddine
tussocks in Jacks eyes looked far more
friendly and beautiful than the wonder
ful shimmering ferns he had left. Ha
pushed open the door of the hut and
went In cobweb catching his brow as
ne d1o SO. He struck match and looked
around him. All was neat and In good
order as the dead man had left it. His
blankets were rolled I'D in one corner
the Kettle swung over the empty fireplace,
ana pipe with some tobacco was on
the shelf above. There was a cupboard.
too, with some cheese, tea, flour and a
mouldy loaf in 1T. The sight Of food re-
minded Jack that he had had nothing
s1nce-since that last drink with his
chum. Was 1t only years ago. or in some
other existence2
He brought water from the little spring
by the door, built up the fire and nut
the kettle on to make tea. Then he made
himself some ''damper," and took his
meal with relish. He was not used to
fast so long. After that he sat smoking
while. then put out the talIow dip,
| rolled himself up in the blankets and
slept fitfully till morning.
His scheme was perfectly successful
Inc days passed on in monotonous sue
! cesston, and no man came near his city
OF refuge. Once or twice he Ventured
down In the townships on the other side
of the hills to replenish his stock Of
necessaries. Few people knew him
there, and no one eyed him askance as
SSNAN
prisoner, living on the poorest fare it
could not have changed him more His
cheeks began to fall In; he was haggard
and gaunt; his bloodshot eyes had a
strained, listening look in them, Among
the bare, bleak hills by day and alone
beneath the illimitabIe stars by night his
mind began to totter AS every sum
mer sun sprang up, red and glorious. he
almost hoped that a policeman would
come for him before night and break
this awful spell Of loneliness His was
not the plight of the Ancient Mariner
SAILING a sea so lonely that God Himself
scarce seemed there to be. To this
man the terror and the awe Law in the
fact that God did seem there beside him
night and day, the only Being in all that
changeiess solitude God and the dead
man and he Seemed the only realities in
a universe of shifting shadows
one day he found a late blossomine
wild flower in the shadow of a tussocl
He clutched at 1t like a child and Rugged
1t to his bosom, tears springing To his
eyes. lie took it home with him, and
naa II oy MIN while he slept. He could
not love ana admire too much this home
~ little thing that spoke of simplicity
and common, everyday life. He held II
In his hand and fondled it, till the fragile
flower dropped on it's long, slender stem
and died Then again he was left alone
with the majestic, Implying stars, whose
million eyes burnt into his soul. He re-
mempered a fragment Of the Psalms that
ne had once known: 1.-THE heavens de-
clare the glory of Cod What came after
ne had forgotten, but this he had no
chance Of forgetting while these relent
less ministers Of His glory shone Iu-
minous above him night by night.
Often at dusk the woodhens would
steal out from tussock and toonaatoo-
1r4
| than the rest, would come to his very
| door. He had been wont to hunt these
birds numerically, but now he tried his
utmost to propitlate and tame this one
He longed to stroke It's speckled black
and brown plumage and have It eat out
of his hand. Once 1t carried off a gaudy
handkerchief he had spread out to at
tract 1t, and he rolled himself up in his
| blankets that night happy. But 1t never
came again. Perhaps chance stone or
| dog had ended It's life
He had been almost afraid to ask for q
| newspaper when buying his stores. lest
| the very fact should betray him. Yet he
| mad conquered his guilty tremors, bought
| one and unfolded the cracking sheets in
| his hut, glancing his eyes fearfuIlv over
| each column. No, there was nothing al
of his murder case! Perhaps the first
sensation caused by it was over, or per.
haps this little country chronicle was
| Silent when larger papers were still full
Of It, Anyway, he told himself for the
mean time he was safei-safei-Safe! Hf
tried to say the word jubilantly but in
| spite of himself it had a melancholy ring
The door OF the hut had evidently beer
made Of new timber, for as the sap had
| receded the planks had shrunk apart
| from each other, leaving wide, yawnine
gaps through which the daylight stream.
ed and the wind blew. To remedy this
state of affairs the dead man had pasted
old newspapers partly across the back
Of the door. These the present occupier
would read and reread as he lay Hstless,
ly on the floor beside them. At least
! they kept his reason from going. But
one sheet contained an account of a muir.
der. every word of which soon seemed
| branded into his brain, SO well he knew
| ever line. every turn of phrase In 1t. II
ended abruptly, too, at The turn of the
| sheet on which it was printed At the
very climax OF the tragedy all became
/ suddenly blank. The unfinished horror OF
/ 1t haunted the man. To him it was made
| more awful by far by this CHASTITY break
| In 1T. He pondered 1t over and over. half
unconsciously, many a dreamlike enc
| Ing suggesting itself to him. always to
| be rejected on a later review of IT, At
| last, In despair and TO save his mind
from the utter horror of madness, he
| rose one morning and pasted another
sheet over 1t which contained only the
! trivial news of some local center The
relief to his overweight and sensitive