The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1902-11-11


| head. He stood for moment gazing
at the face framed, beside his faith
er's, in that other prison door. He
stretched out his arms towards tho
girl, and cried out to his father for
| pity. The old man finished his talk
to the girl, and went out, paying no
more heed to the boys cries than
to the wind that ratified the window
| frames.
Then the two young people began
! the most curious imprisonment that
a prosaic twentieth century chronicle
has ever recorded. In an age that
fostered intrigue and inquisition, old
Dumble would have been a master
plotter. Now he was shrewd, rich
old autocrat with purpose in view
which he was determined to accom-
plish as quickly as possible.
| Thus reasoned the old man: "Once
in thousand cases, perhaps man
and a woman will love one another
better than life. In this practical
age, though, the proportion may be
cut down to one in 10000. What youth
mistakes for the divine passion, last
ing through and beyond the span
OF life, is the Impotence of young
years, the desire of child for the
moon, the changing whim of an
eager age. Fan this quick flame to
white heat and it will soon die to
cold ashes. Now if Edward is of the
5000, he will soon wear out this love
in daily sight of his desired one, and
come back to me a wise boy, and
no law will be broken-the girl will
go unframed. If he is the one in
10000, and the girl is the one in 5000
(for that sex is certainly more i'm
pulsive, why, then-but, pshaw! he
isn't"
The brewer knew humanity pass
ing well and watched his experiment
with confidence. Old Schouler was
wild at the disappearance of his
daughter; the little world in which
was in turmoil; but-old Richard
Dumble's world had wider orbit!
No suspicion attached to the old man,
and the world, or that part of it that
fretted over the young peoples af-
fairs, had to fall back upon the the
DRY of an elopement.
| Deserted by the world, ministered
to by grim, close-mouthed servants,
supplied with the comforts and
amusements of normal young peo-
! ple-Edwin with books and gymna-
SUM apparatus, Henrietta with mu-
| sic, the latest novel, embroidery
| the two prisoners passed their days
in maddening proximity. The corri-
dor was far too long to permit the
tender whisperings that lovers COM
monty use; indeed, there was always
the believing wind as rival in any
exchange of vows. But there was
the language of signs, and eternal
trust that cou1d be expressed in
clutching at vacancy.
Books Knocked the young man
what did they say but love that was
always rewarded in the end? Music,
such as she knew, spoke to Henrietta
young breast-and here the blasts
that whirled up that precipice face
turned her plaintive notes to a thin
wailing. The grim faces of the serv-
ants, passing in and out, silently,
except for the jangling of the big
keys, oppressed the spirits of both.
A sort of desperate recklessness pos
sessed the lovers-they paced their
rooms, in and out those corridor
doors, up to the line beyond which
it were death to pass; and a great
despair came upon them.
Winter gave way at last to spring
and even on that bare mountain-top,
where the world stretched away from
| their view 1000 feet below, the new
balm came to renew the lovers pas
sion. Not once had Edwin taken pen
to write his defeat; not once had
Henrietta failed to gain courage from
n fresh sight of the man who loved
her. Sometimes, in lull of the
everlasting mountain storm, they had
called to one another to be brave and
faithful.
The earth was released from the
grip of the snow, and young leaves
came out to clothe the trees on the
beautiful New Hampshire hills. At
last the little lakes that dotted Il
broad, green valley shone up to
the prisoners like bright jewels
on warm, full bosom. Life, throb-
bling, new, eternal, woke the flame
of love to white heat.
"My love, do you fear death?"
And the answer, keyed to an eNultant
pitch, rang back.
"Not with you, my sweetheart"
"Ah! then come" With the words,
Edwin sprang forward to meet the
oncoming rush of the mad girl. One
step over the white dead line, and
the floor was creaking like thin ice.
Two steps, and it was swaying like
a showman's net. With the touch of
hand to hand, the frail foundation
splintered and fell with crash in
which We're mingled the terrified
scream of the girl and the exultant
cry of the infatuated lover.
"Sir, my master babe me give you
i a