The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1902-04-16
"AS LISA LOVED The KING"
BY CURRAN R. GREENLEY.

doing all the dirty work and getting the kicks
for pay. Let them as wants him out OF the
way put him there
Ana the first voice answered with an oath:
What's that to you? The men that wants
Andrew Jackson dead hain't the men as risks
nuthin'''
Andrew Jackson Anne's heart gave q
great bound, then almost stopped, as there
was a rustic among the bushes. She strained
her ears to catch the last words
He'll likely spend tonight at Hunger
ford's, leaving there by daybreak.''
No There hain't but one niger along
He don't like comp'ny a-travein'" And the J
low chuckle died in the distance
1t was nearly dark as Anne crept out from
her hiding-place and glanced fearfully up the |
long, white road. She knew thu Hunger
fords lay fifteen miles away as the crow flies
and to reach it would mean ride through
the night-mornng 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 to
save! Not that they would have lifted hand
against his life, but they would have laughed
her story down and bade her hush, as children
should
Alone in her little white curtained room
she kneit and prayed her simple prayer She
had always been afraid of the dark-the dark
that was like whispering lips in your ear
and the touch of soft fingers clutching at your
gown-but the life of her hero was the high
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 it all grew still. The
tall clock licked louder and louder through
the dark with an accusing voice-ten, eleven,
twelve, and at the last stroke little dark
feyl5r h11rr Tod {L@,
where Harry Clay, the bay gelding, whinnied |.
softly in his loose box. He knew the little
fingers that slipped the bit between his velvet
lips. and he laid his handsome head against
her curls in mute caress as the saddle was
girted. Harry Clay had never carried that
weight before, and when the Tapping riding
skirt struck his withcrs the fine ears lay close
as he reared and paved the air, with the thin
nostrlls hared, but a whisper, touch upon
the name, and he dropped into light canter
along the footpath, his feet making no sound
upon the turf
Fifteen miles to Hungerford's and four
hours until the dawn. Harry Clay quickens
his stride as clock from farmhouse chimes
out, "One two and they have passed the
brick church at the forks of Otter creek,
where she has kne!t so often at her mothers i
side Three, and the white road runs !
backward under the flying boots. The mo-
ments speed. and they gallop into the shadow
of Hungerford's woods. A dim old moon was
shining and a break in the trees let in the
light full on the girls face There was \
rustic in the shadows of the roadside, and
the same rough voice cried out. THAT girl
of Montagues on the bay colt-stop her!
Whoa, there!''
But Anne brought the whip down on Harry
Clay's flank. Not quite swift enough, for
pistol shot rang out, another and yet AM
ether. and she felt a dull shock as Harry
Clay, maddened 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 overI
the hills. There something warm and
wet that trickled down the great bays
| shoulder as the little figure swaycd and chung
| 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
! lis horse and talked with the pretty child
| two years ago.
| The reins dropped Harry CIay's neck
| as Andrew Jackson rode alongside just in time
! to catch her as 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 pattering 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 10 make
ready, and, mind you, lose time in send
ing for the doctor" Very carefully and
slowly he rode, bearing the light weight,
while the still face lay against his breast,
smiling dreamly.
At the farmhouse all was hustle and stir
Mistress Hungerfords 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 tina.
look he whose heart lay buried in a woman's
grave in Tennessee read the old story sancti-
fed in the white shrine of the maiden soul:
read also, with a soldiers unerring kuowl-
edge, the whiteness about the pretty mouth
The stern face grew tender ard the eagle
eyes were dnmed as he leaned to that I'M
spoken prayer, laying his lips upon the white
ones beneath, that quivered a moment and
were still
The child's eyes looked beyond the hills at
last.