Highland recorder. (Monterey, Highland County, Va.) 1877-1972, 1903-07-10
CHAPTER XVIII.


self into the saddle and is preparing to
make day Of it. Two hours later many
are in q position to acknowledge sadly
that the day they have made has not been
exactly up to the mark.
Roger and Dulce have got little away
from the others, and are now riding side
by side across a rather hilly field. Right
before them rises a wall, small enough
In itself, but in parts dangerous, because
Of the heavy fall at the other side, hid
den from the eye by some brambles grow
Ing on the top of the stonework.
Lower down, this wall proves itself even
more treacherous, hiding even more effec-
tually the drop into the adjoining field,
which is here too deep for any horse, how
ever good, to take with safety. 1t is
spot we'll known by all the sportsmen in
the neighborhood as one to be avoided,
ever since Gort, the farmer, some years
before, had jumped it for the sake Of an
Idle bet, and had been carried home from
1t dead man, leaving his good brown
prare with a broken back behind him.
1t would seem, however, that either ig-
torrance or recklessness is carrying one
spot. He Is now bearing down upon it
with the evident intention of clearing the
traitorous wall and so gaining upon the
hounds, who are streaming up the hill
beyond, unaware that almost certain de-
struction awaits him at the point toward
which he is riding so carelessiy. Dulce,
turning her head accidentally in his di-
rectiOn, is the first to see him.
"Oh, see therew she cries, in fright
ened tone, to Roger, pointing to the lower
part of the field. "Who is that going to
take Gort's Fall?"
Roger, following her glance, pulls up
short, and stares fxedly at the man be-
low, now drawing terribly near to the
condemned spot. And, as he looks, his
face changes, the blood forsakes it, and
Mortified expression creeps into his eyes.
at is Stephen" he says at last, in an
indescribable tone; and then, knowing he
cannot reach him in time to prevent the
coming catastrophe, he stands up in his
stirrups and shouts to the unconscious
Stephen, with all the strength of his fresh
young lungs, to turn back before 1t is too
late.
But all in vain; Stephen either does not
or cannot hear. He has by this time
reached the wall; his horse, the gallant
animal, responds to his touch. dc rises
there is a crash, a dull thud, and then all
Is STILL Involuntarily Dulce has covered
her eyes with her hand. and by supreme
effort has suppressed the cry that has
risen from her heart.
A sickening sensation of faintness is
overpowering her. When at length she
gains courage to open heI eyes again she
finds Roger has forsaken her and is riding
like one possessed across the. open field,
and--there beyond, where the sun is CLINT
Ing in small patches upon the dry grass,
she sees, too, a motionless mass Of scar
let cloth, and q dark head lying-oh! so
strangely quiet. Roger, having safely
cleared the unlucky wall higher up, has
Hung himself from his saddle, and is now
IN his knees beside Cover, and has lifted
bis head upon his arm.
stephen! Stephenw he cries, brokenly.
But Stephen is beyond hearing. He is
quite insensible, and deaf to the voice that
IN the old days used to have special
lharm for him. Laying him gently down
lgain, Roger rises TO his feet and looks
wildly round. Dulce has arrived by this
Time, and, having sprang to her feet, has
let her horse, too. 20 to the winds.
"He is not dead" she asks at first, in
, CHASTITY whisper, with psle and trem-
Hing lips.
81 don't know. I'm not sure" says Rog.
-, distrnctedly. "Oh, if somebody would
snly come"
"Have you no brandy?" asks Dulce,
who is rubbing the hands Of the senseless
nan, trying to restore animation by this
means.
Eyes, ycs, had forgotten" says Roger
md then he kneels down once again and
takes Stephen into his arms, and raising
bis head on his knee, tries to force few
drops Of the brandy between his pallid
lips.
At this supreme moment all Is forgot.
ten-all the old hea1taches, the cruel
taunts, the angry words. Once again he
Is his earliest friend; the boy, the youth,
the man, he had loved, until a woman
had come between them. Everything
rushes back upon him as he stoops oyei
Cover and gazes, with passionate feaI
and grief, upon his marble face.
After all, there had been more good
points than bad about Stephen, more
good, indeed, than about most fellows,
How fond he had been of him in the old
days! how angry he would have been with
anyone who had dared then to accuse him
Of acting shabbily, Or We'll, WELL No
use In rakinS up old grievances now, and
no doubt there was great temptation; and
besides, too, uncivl things had been said
to him and he tRoger) had certainly not
been up to THE mark himself In many
ways.
Memories OF school and college life
crowd upon Roger now, as he gazes with
eyer-increasing fear upon the rigid fea.
tures below him; little scenes, insignii.
can't in themselves, but enriched by hon.
est sentiment, and tenderly connected
with the dawn of manhood, when the fas-
tidious Cover bad been attracted and
fascinated by the holder and more reck-
less qualities Of Dare. recur to him now
with a cleaners that, under the present
miserable circumstances, is almost pain
full.
Roger glances despairingly at Duice'
who is still trying t2 get some prano9
down the wounded mdaa throat anu eve"