The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1902-04-22

Wyllamp tide past on his way to his
work; and made sure that he did not
repass until he returned late in the
evening at the tail of the struggling
procession of worllmen. Winifred re-
turned from the schoolhouse at the
usual hour in the afternoon, and my
anxious scrutiny of her face as she
came up the walk from the gate and
stopped for word with the con-
valescent before going to her room
assured me that as yet the blow had
not fallen upon her. Still Nan did
not appear, and her prolonged alb
sence, and the stolid Indifference of
her father and mother to it, puzzled
me not little. I would have given
much to know what had happened
in the family councils in those early
hours of the morning when I had
slept the sleep of the unsuspecting.
By nightfall the indefnable dread
had grown until it had become an
agony of apprehension. For two
days Macpherson had intermitted his
evening visits to the farm at Valley
Head; and after supper I watched
and waited in the hope that he would
come. 1t had been no part of my
plan to make him confdant in the
results of the Grantley investigation,
but under the changed conditions it
now seemed to be the wisest course;
and 1 was half daft at the thought
that the story might reach him
through another channel. So [ kept
my post in the hammock until nine
o'clock, and then went to my room
to stay only till 1 could be sure that
the family had gone to bed. When
the farmhouse was still and dark,
1 found my overcoat and crept down
stairs with my shoes in my hand.
The moon was well above the up
lifted eastern horizon when 1 put on
my shoes and propped myself in the
vigil. There was not the vaguest
promise that anything could come of
it. At the most I could only make
4 sure that Nan did or did not come
home. And yet, if life itself had been
at stake, 1 could scarcely have gone
back to my room and to bed.
The night was as perfect as night
can be in region where both night
and day are beyond the imaginings
of the jewellers in lower attitudes.
The hazeless air was tremulous with
the murmurings of natures silences.
1t seemed that I had never before
realized how white the moonlight
could be, nor how black the shadows.
The wind, what zephyr's- breath there
was of it, was up the valley; and
on its wings came the scents of sun
cured grasses and the distance
softened notes of an accordion
played by one of the workmen in the
engineers camp. The very atmos-
phere was eloquent of peace, and the
restless urgency of the latter-day
struggle for existence seemed far
removed. After a time the moon
rode higher, and the hammock I'M
der the porch-roof swung in the
blacklist of the shadows. The night
air began to grow cooler, and I but
toned my overcoat and filed and
lighted my pipe.
1t must have been nearly ten
o'clock when Nan returned. I heard
her step in the road and extinguished
my pipe. She came up the walk with
footsteps tagging, as one who fights
with fatigue; and she let herself into
the house silently and without look
ing to right or left. One thing, and
one ching only, had learned by be.
ing silent witness of her home.
coming She had come from some
where down the valley; otherwise
the wind would not have brought
me the warning of her approach.
1t was fully half an hour later be-
fore I could make up my mind to &c
to bed. There was less than nothing
; to watch for now, and, despite the
overcoat, the chill of the night strucl
deep. l climbed out of the hammock
stitfly and took turn in the dool
yard to start the blood little. From
the gate I could see the foaming tor
rent of the Torolito rushing past OF
the opposite side of the road in it.
final plungings to the level of tn,
lower valley. 1 had long since re
marked that the river was Away
much higher at night, and been puz
zled to account for it until Macpher
son had explained that the nigh
food-tide in a snow-fed stream i
proportional to the heat of the pre-
ceding day.
The August day had been unusual
ly hot, and the river was in full flood
Its thunder filled the silence of tn
night-made it, I had almost said
but not to the exclusion of othe
sounds. While I fingered at the gat
the click of horses hoofs cam
wind-borne from the direction of tn
engineers camp. There was 10,
cottonwood growing on the embanE
q ment of the ditch just outside tn
n gate, and 1 crawled between tn
a wires of the fence and crouched i
! the shadow of the tree.