Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1902-10-07

Hell likely spend tonight at Hun
gerford's, leaving there by daybreak."
"No. There hain't but one nigger
along. He don't like comp'ny a-travel-
In" And the low chuckle died in the
distance.
1t was nearly dark as Anne crept out
from her hiding place and glanced fear
fully up the long white road. She
knew that Hungerford's lay fifteen
miles away as the crow flies, and to
reach 1t would mean ride through the
night-morning would be too late;
knew too, poor child. that in the hearts
Of those about her dwelt the bitterest
hatred of the man that she would have
risked her life 10 save. Not that they
would have lifted hand against his
life, but they would have laughed her
story down and bade her hush, as chill
dren should.
Alone in her little white curtained
room she knelt and prayed her simple
prayer. She had always been afraid Of
the dark-the dark that was like whis-
ItIlllE IlIS III aOhl 'AAN hOoNh
Of soft fingers clutching at your gown
but the life OF her hero was the higk
guerdon of the deed.
One by one each door was closed.
She heard her fathers chair pushed
back and knew that he was laying his
pipe on the mantelshelf: heard her
mother setting the house In order, and
then IL all grew still. The tall clock
rtcked louder and louder through the
dark with an accusing yOice-ten
eleven. twelve. and at the last stroke q
little dark figure hurried across the yard
to the stable. where Harry Clay. the
oay gelding. whnnied softly In bic
loose box He knew the little hngers
that slipped the bit between bis velvet
bps. aud be laid his handsome head
against her curls In mute carsss as the
saddle was girteL Harry clay had
never carried that weight before. and
when the tapping riding skirt struch
biz withcrs the fue ears lay close as be
reared aud PAVED the air. with ths thin
nOstriIs dared. but a whlspeT. a touch
upou thc inaue. and be- drupped into .
hght canicr along the footpath, BIS fee,
ula sing no sUuud upon the turf
Flucru miles o. HungerfOrds and
four hours yet until tbs dawn. Harry
Clay qulckrns his stride as . cIOck
from farmhouse chimcs out "ons.
two" aud they have passed the brick
church a the forks II Otter creek.
whsrv she bad knslt 80 often az hrr
mothers sldc 'Thres" aud the white
road runs backward under the 1yius
hoofs The moments spe,d. and they
galiUp into the shadow of Hunger
fOrd's woods 4 dim old moon WAS
shining. aud a break In the trees III
IN the light full ON the girls face.
There was a rustic IN the shadows ~
the roadside. and the same rough voice
cried out That girl VI Montague'S on
the bay cUlt-stop her! Whoa, therc"'
But Anne brought the whip down on
Harry Clays dank. Not quite swift
enough. for u pistol shot rang out. an
other and yet another. and she felt
dull shock as Harry Clay. maddcned
by the reports and the insult Of blow.
tore down the white stones OF the road,
the fire flashing under the iron shod
hoofs-on and on. while the miles
rolled back In the dark and the gray
OF dawn came over the hills. There
was something warm and wet that
trickled down the great bays shoulder
as the little figure swayed and c!ung to
the saddle. AS the gold broke along
the east a horseman rode out OF the
woods in the opposite direction. the
same that had walked his horse and
talked with the pretty child two years
agone.
The reins dropped on Harry Clay's
neck as Andrew Jackson rode along
side just in time to catch her rs she
reeled from the saddle, and then. with
her head against his heart, the little
maid sobbed out her story. while the
sweet face grew paler and the wild
roses died from the pretty cheeks as
the drip. drip Of the blood went pat
tering down.
The grim, dark face hardened into
steel as he beckoned to the negro that
rode little behind him.
Go back to the farm and tell them
to make ready, and, mind you. lose no
time in sending for the doctor" Very
carefully and slowly he rode, bearing
the light weight, while the still face
lay against his breast, smiling dream.
i.y.
At the farmhouse all was hustle and
stir. Mistress Hungerford's capable
hands laved the wounds and made all
sweet and clean in the chamber where
they carried her to await the coming
Of the doctor.
Very quiet and still she lay when he
came to bid her farewell. His face
was sad and stern when he barred his
head by the low white bed where Anne
lay. They two were alone when Anne
opened her great gray eyes on the face
of her dreams, and in that look he
whose heart lay buried in a woman's
grave In Tennessee read the old story
sanctified in the white shrine OF the
maiden soul; read also. with soldiers
unerring knowledge. the whiteness
about the pretty mouth. The stern face
grew tender and the eagle eyes were
dimmed as he leaned to that unspOken
prayer, laying his lips upon the white
ones beneath, that Quivered q moment
and were STILL
The child's eyes looked beyond the
hills at last