The county record. [volume] (Kingstree, S.C.) 1885-1975, 1903-09-24


tied, as his brain drew it in and ana
lyzed it.
Suddenly there was a revulsion,
and it was as if the poles of his nature
had been reversed on the instant.
From come source he gathered strength
to lift his head and shoulders; then,
leauing on one arm, he gazed wildly
around. There was terrible look IL
his face. He almost bounded to his
feet and stood swayiug and trembling.
| his long legs far apart and one hand
raised far above his disheveled mead.
A dying tiger might have gIared as
| did he, and it was with wild beasts
voice that he cried aloud:
81 will not die-I will not die--1
canuot die. Kirk MscCollough, while
while you live!"
It was a grand theatre in which to
make such a speech. The dusky trees
and the lurking wild things were fit
ting audience. The realism of the
acting was .superhumau, and it was
also superhunanly romantic. Tue
stage accessories were in perfect har-
mony with it. Loneliness, grimuess,
solemnity brooded there, and the wide
silence was fitting applause. Two Of
tue evil birds took wing with loud
Tapping and sailed away from the dead
bough on which they had been stttin g
! so patiently. Burns was indirectly
aware of them, as he rolled his blood
! shot eyes and shook his head till the
tangled hair fell over his forehead and
temples.
His strength was but spasmodic.
The next moment he tumbled down
motionless.
Slowly the sun passed on to the
western slope Of the sky. The hideous
vultures returned to circle round and
round, lower and lower; but they did
not dare make the attack. They might
have done it soon, however, had they
been left to their will.
Once more the old man reused him
self and struggled to his feet. The
pallor of death fared ont of his face,
the frenzy of death glittered in his
eyes. There were fragments OF dead
leaves and clots of earth in his hair
and beard. Again he flung his hand
on high and stood wavering and
trembling, while his voice broke forth
with awful sonorousness:
vengeance! Vengeance is mine,
and will repay"
This time the theatre held one hu
man auditor, who stopped short in his
walk and gazed with wide-opea eyes
at the towering actor in thLi wild
scene. At first Burns looked almost
twice his real stature, so dilated was
the expression of his form as seen
against the dusky spaces and gloomy
trunks of the wood.
"Wall, take my hat for q soap-kit-
tler exclaimed the observer, resting
the butt OF his long rifle on his foot.
"W'y, watts the matter, parson?
Wat in all crea lou air ye ADDING
ysr?"
Burns started at the sound of the
voice, and half turned to look. The
effort lost him his balance, and down
he fell again, his arm still out
stretched.
Hello! Hello!" shouted the man.
running forward as rapidly as crooked
leg would permit, "air ye ailin' par
SOM"
He half recoiled at the sight OF The
blood on the Burns's clothes, and his
rough face showed surprise and quick
sympathy. He had been accustomed
to open-air tragedies, had, indeed,
been a star performer in not few; but
here was a mystery as we'll as catss-
trophe. For lack of other vent to re-
lieve his feelings withal he began to
swear disapprovingly. intimatins
through his oaths that it would please
him to hew limb from limb the man
who hurt Parsons Burns.
"Parson, parson"fhe exclaimed,
STOPPING over him and touching his
shoulder. "W'at's the matter OF ye,
parson?"
"Then, as he received nc answer,
he Strengthened himself up, leaned on
his gun and scratched his head with
an air OF coutemplative confusion.
Just then, horse gave forth one OF
those casual snorts characteristic OF
the genus. 1t was the animal that
Burns had ridden. Not far away it
was browsing dole:ully, with melan-
choly twist in its cadaverous neck and
swift ching its tail this way and that
more by force of habit than in re-
sporse to the attack Of one or two
thriftless flies which were content to
worry skin too tough for their tiny
spears.
eyer, yer, parson! Watts this
mean?" he went on, clustering trlhe
aud shaking the old mans shoulder.
Cant ye speak to a feller? Air ye
( bad hurt?"
Burns writhed about, turning his
grimy face full upon his interrogator.
The stare he gave the man fairly
chilled him.
"Pierre Rameau-that's your name,