The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1904-02-18

Of her fathers long stories of old cam
paigns, and my inattention when she
was within sight. But she interrupted
me not at all; merely smiled as she lis
tened. And when | made an emo, there
fell silence between us.
VIII make no answer to my suit?" |
said, finally. We'll be it so. But l will
ask again, and again, and yet again, till
you tell me what | wish to hear Sweet
| Mistress Clarendon that is to be, salute
you!"
You have impudence. sir" she cried,
to take possession of me so cavalierly!
Will marry whom please, and when
please, an it will not be you. l care not
at all for you'll"
1t was warm and snug within doors,
but as | swung to saddle again, the cold
struck into my bones, and the growing
storm made all about black and strange.
The wind had sprung up within the hour,
and now whirled the snow into binding
clouds, so that my faithful horse picked
his way slowly and still more slowly
through the increasing drifts. My own
mind was full of sad thoughts. Though
l was resolved to win Prudence in the
end, this did not prevent ME from yield
ing to the deep depression of my mood.
l cast the reins on Dobbin's neck and let
the good beast proceed at his own sweet
will
know not how long had been riding,
nor how far | had got on my way home
ward, when my melancholy meditations
were interrupted by the sound Of some
thing following me. In the noise of the
WIND 1t was impossible to distinguish
clearly the direction from which these
sounds proceeded; moreover the foot
steps-for such they seemed-were
mutiied by the snow. Nowadays | think
it strange that | should have heard any,
thing at all. But my friends, there is
clairvoyance of the heart by means of
which we have an instructive knowledge
OF many things too subtle to be heard
or seen with the gross bodily organs.
And so it seems to me in the case | speak
of; for, obeying an impulse, the cause
OF which | cannot even now describe to
you, | suddely caught up the reins and
turned Dobbin's head against the wind.
And well it was that did So For in a
few moments l heard voice cry out in
/ distress, and, by my faith, it was not the
hoarse shout of a man, but the shrill
treble Of frightened woman. With
that, clapped spurs sharply down and
| fastened with all speed possible to give
what help l could; for under such Cir
cumstances it is not well to delay.
And whom do you think found there,
stalled in the snow, half fainting in her
saddle from the cold and the bewiIder-
ment of the night?
Prudence!
My arms were about her in an instant.
AS | bore her from her horse, wrapping
my cloak about her trembling figure, she
put her dear head against my shoulder
and began to sob. To my eager question.
what had sent her forth on such a night.
she made no answer for long time,
and | availed myself of the opportunity
to turn in the direction of Holloway hall,
leading her palfrey by the bride. At
length, as Prudence regained her COM
posture, | learned why she had followed
me-
"a moment after you left" she whis-
pered, hiding her face in my breast. my
father rode up, having been out on BUSH
ness at the village. He was full of con-
Germ, for, he said, the bridge over the
river between your house and ours had
gone down during the evening, the
weight of the ice piled against it. What
time did 1t go, father asked, filled with
a sudden apprehension. Scarce an hour
since, he answered; 1 heard it as was
leaving the village At once thought
of you riding home in the night, unable
to see what lay before you, blinded per-
chance, by the snow, and with that brok-
en- bridge in your path. Without word
to any, l snatched my hood and cloak,
fed to the stable, and, saddling my pal
frey, started in pursuit. But though
know the road SO we'll, the snow proved
too much for us, my horse and l, and had
| Providence not watched over us, fear
we would have persisted. A silly fool am
1! l might have sent my father, or one
of the men. But, no! did not stop to
think! /"
Glad am l you did not" said, "for
now, Mistress Prudence, you shall deny
me no more. A woman takes no such
risks for man she loves not. Said not
truly you would marry me, after all?"
She answered not. In a few minutes
we met Master Haywood, and troop
of his men searching for the missing
maid.
Sir" said l, as we drew rein before
the hall, Il crave your hospitality for
the night, for my own home is far, and
the weather unpropitious. And to-mor-
row l shall ask you yet another favor
still"
Harry" replied the old gentleman,
clapping me on the back, 'it hath al
ready been asked and granted. The
wench told me months ago she loved
thee and would marry thee. Twas only
matter of waiting till she was ready.
And as for thee-boy, dost think an old
Indian fighter hath failed to see through
thy pretense of interest In his tales of
forgotten battles? Hal" and his cheer
full laugh rang out right merrily. And
as we stood in the great hall, he took our