Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1902-07-12

fort. And once 1 turned. when | dared,
to look at her, and saw her asleep with
her head lying on the pillow, still in its
frame of wonderful wavy hair.
CHAPTER w.
AS TO THE MOODS OF A MAIDEN.
We had been walking the horses slow
ly a good our northward, for / had no
choice but to get on with my journey.
The rain had stopped, n the first light
OF a September day began to show up
over the high land to the eastward. Not
a word had we said since getting well
started. /, for one, had more to think
than talk on, and the girl was too wear
led to do more han sit in her ungainly
saddle, while | led her wretched nag.
Heaven knows, l am no poet, and
never was; but the break of that day
was a beautiful thing to see. All the
earth was wet n glistening on the
pareSt excuse for light. The trees all
but met over our heads, with now and
then an open bit Of country, and here
and there a sight of the big river. And
all the little noises of the morning-the
insects, the birds-kept up a singing
n a wheeling and a droning that
would make the heart bound within
you.
Ihen would come a little more light,
the trees would separate and stand
up OF themselves, n you could tell
houses from sand banks. And from a
strange and ghostly Wilderness there
came a big red glow, like a sun
SET, out still never was that light at
setting sun. Here and there was a red
tipped bough, while the big rocks
across the stream burned with the
color. Then l watched the color go by
and the first white light Of the sun
pitch against the cliffs, catch the trees
above us, and then come dropping
around us on the wet turf and he red
nlud at our feet. And another clear
DAY was come out of as filthy a night
as one could guess at.
lis q very fine day." said a strange
voice at my side.
turned in my saddle In wonder, and
found her looking up at the trees over
head and the sky through them. and
then turned back in my saddle and
SAID not a word. What might be her
ladyship's next mood? AS for myself,
| was too worn out, too uncertain as
TO my next move, to see aught in the
but desperate outlook and
small chance of my mission finishing
that day or week.
SO the noisy silence of the wood be-
gan again.
You have not the of his
maJesty's court, sir said she blandly.
Il have never had occasion to be
there, MISTRESS" / answered, with
some meaning to my tone.
NO" said she, and studied the green
leaves about her for a space. "'Tis a
Wretched thing" she added, after a bit.
What, h court?".
Nay, the want of
Perhaps you would prefer to return
to the others" and Their 1 stuck a spur
into old Roger and cursed myself for a
fool.
She said not a word for a moment
n then:
"A courtly response, indeed. Where
were you bred, sir?"
In what, God be thanked, is a free
country, mistress, The town of Bos-
ton, in Massachusetts colony"
oh! | have heard tell Of it. a lit
tie wandering town, where men pray
for eight days in the week, and a wom-
an may wear only black and never
raise her eyes from the buckle of her
slipper"
"'Tis a town of great men and big
hearts, Mistress Philipse. And It's not
for even a British butterfly to demean
It,"
Am /, l wonder, Mistress Philipse p"
said she, looking at me with a CLINT in
her eye. Or"
Il do not know, madam. That was
the name you took but a few hours
since" She had a look, In her face
that for the life of me | could NOT
read. Was 1t a bursting desire to laugh,
or a vixen's love of teasing?
"Or, am ] ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
fort, is it?"
IF you were so, indeed, you should
not speak thus of the Cradle of Lib
erty."
"Ah. indeed! And would you tell me
who should prevent it?"
at1Nh N 4 mill rairtrnr. NJ. ~. H.
your husband"
"Ah, indeed!' said she again. 81 see
that you have lived much in the COM
pany of women and know them full
well, Captain Balfort."
Lieutenant Balfort, at your service,
mistress"
You should be a captain, SIR" said
she, looking up through the trees.
You bore yourself as such not many
hours since"
The change Of tone was so quick that
for some unknown reason L grew red
with shame, and asked seriously
enough:
will you tell me why you should go
through a bad scene as brave as any
any soldier, and then faint at sight Of
q MANI
"Ah, do not speak of him!" cried she,
turning a face that IN q sudden had a
bit of that terror in it again. And then,
looking back on the road, Think you
they may follow us?"
Nay, mistress" 1 answered. mot
one of them could stand"
Then why bring me back to that
tavern, when 1 am tired and would
talk of other things7"
Twas q thoughtless query, and /
ask your forgiveness" said /, riding
closer to her, for 1 thought she would
SWAY Off the nag'S back.
But her eye grew bright again on a
sudden.
d not fear, sir" said she, with her
chin in the air. II am no chicken
hearted maid. I do not require the
support OF an arm-not even when that
arm belongs to a husband"
Mistress Philipse," said 1 earnestly,
resting a hand on her horses name,
you have twice referred to a part of
last nights performance with the scorn
that, God knows, o no doubt feel.
But you are in the wrong tic give it
any credence, except as the brave act
or a brave woman, who saved by her
ready wit her companion from sure
death and herself from worse. Dc you,
perchance, think that that companion
places any other significance upon it?''
She turned her head away and looked
down at the wet ferns by the roadside
Tor a momen without reply, and then,
looking me in the face, answered:
TITS q foolish question, lieutenant,
and you know it as we'll as /. There
fore will l not answer It,"
Why II should be so I cannot tell, but
the certainty that / saw I'm her lace of
the whole events a~bsurdity gave me a
sinking within myself that turned me
back in my saddle and put out the
brightness of the morning.
So again we rode on for n space.
You do not ask me why 1 am in this
dreadful country alone and at such a
time" SAID h firmly.
mo, mistress, / do not. But / would
Y ask -nnnihnr question IL Nnu cha,.Li