Gloucester County Democrat. (Woodbury, N.J.) 1878-1932, 1902-06-26

loose DOX. 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 withers the fine ears lay close as he
reared and paved the air, with the thin
nostrils fared, but 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 yet until the dawn. Harry
Clay quickens his stride as a clock
from farmhouse chimes out, zone,
two," and they have passed the brick
church at the forks of Otter creek,
where she had knelt so often at her
mothers side. "Three," and the white
road runs backward under the flying
hoofs. The moments speed, and they
gallop into the shadow of Hunger
ford's woods. A dim old moon was
shining, and break in the trees let
in the light full on the girls face
There was q rustic in the shadows Of
the roadside, and the same rough voice
cried out: 'sThat girl Of Montague's on
the bay colt-stop her! Whoa, therev'
But Anne brought the whip down on
Harry Clays flank. Not quite swift
enough, for pistol shot rang out, an
other and yet another, and she felt q
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 over the hills There
was something warm and wet that
trickled down the great bays shoulder
as the little figure swayed and chung to
the saddle. AS the gold broke along
the east 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
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
e.fo IA hra 10 4bo
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
lily.
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 a 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 a moment
and were STILL
The child's eyes looked beyond the
hills at last