The Cooperstown courier. (Cooperstown, Griggs Co., N.D.) 1902-1913, 1905-03-23

Try m8&Q4Je Ju6I cScAu6s U"S sAo0 ~
not been that certain somebody would
be there and expecting him, he would
have yielded to his foolish uneastness
and stayed at home. Yet what vas
there to fear, In this fair country side
at least? He must be watchful wheE
they returned to the city.
1T is in honor Of NJ Manton's niece.
YOU know. Mon pere"-leaning for
ward and laying his fingers lightly on
his fathers arm, while his face flushed
what should you say If some day !
should bring you daughter"
ooh! that is it?" Intercepted Chev-
reau, dryly, but he sighed little, too.
Theon was all he had, and it was hard
that after all these years OF comrade-
ship pretty face should win MIN away
in a few short weeks. Still. 1t was ma
ture.
"Boy, boy" he smiled. ruefully, Il
had almost forgotten that you could
grow into a man. But be careful.
Theon, be CAREFUL
He knew how absurdly useless was
the warning. and he smiled grlmly to
himself. but the smile hardened to o
sheer as he turned and stared again at
the gray towers of the chateau, loom.
ing shadowy in the dusk
"After 90 years! And this is good
day."
The road from B, past the old
chateau, is very beautiful Strangers
travelling through the country take the
drive and exclaim at the fairness OF
omen field and massive wood, but there
is one spot where silence comes IN
voluntarily, long, shadowed stretch
where the forest rises darkly on both
sides, and twilight reigns at high noon
Here the wood to the right extends but
a few rods, ending abruptly in the high
cliff that follows the road for miles,
and far below, in the silence of the for
est. comes the subdued rush and muir
muir of the deep river, swirling against
the rocks in its bed.
In the day it is beautiful. but at night
It is awesome, and none travel past
them but those whose way leads them
there of necessity.
On the night that Jules D'Arblay rode
to B, the deep forest lay quiet and
still, knowing that the one sound that
would awaken its echoes would be the
gallop of returning horse. Jules
D'Arblay always returned. late, and
alone. He was later than usual to-
night. for he was making arrangements
to leave indefinitely AS rule he en-
joyed spending his summers In the fine
old chateau, but this summer he pre-
ferred to leave.
The trees rose high and met in thick
arches. over the road, shutting out the
light of the stars. The trees and the
little bushes were the only things of
the forest not asleep in the vastness
of the night and they stirred and whis-
pered, nodding wisely to one another
and shivering awesomely in the silence.
Down the hard road came the whole
some reality of steady hoof-beats, and
the ouiyering bushes held themselves to
listen as horse and rider came nearer
through the black shadows. At one
side the low grass rustled, and two rest.
less eyes cleaned at the dark outline
approaching. The slim, straight shadow
sat fearlessly erect and unconscious OF
danger.
From out of the roadside something
rose and struck viciously at the head
of the rider. kissing angrily: after
20 years. Jules D'Arblay!" something
| fell heavily, without cry, and then
the leaves rustled as the startled horse
was backed through the blackness by
a commanding hand. still back, toward
| the steep cliff, for riderless horse is q
betrayal, and If a drunken man rides
over cliff in returning from town II
is no ones fault but his own. The ait
auivered with the human scream of q
terrified beast, and the deep river
splashed solemnly as 1t received its bur.
den. -
The timid bushes shivered and cow
cred again, bending fearsomely to one
side as the man returned, and a still
warm thing was carried heavily through
them, its nerveless limbs Imply brush.
ing them in it's progress.
The wind stopped to hear his heavy
breathing as the bearer Of the burden
strobe on. Then 1t fled up swiftly
affrighted to tell the tree-tops. what II
had seen, and the good old trees tossed
their long arms in sorrow over the
treachery of man to man, and let the
stars peep wonderingly through, SO that
their clear light shone fair and steadily
on the still face.
AS one who does SO against his will
the one who bore him glanced down II
stern aversion at the dead man. The
limp. thing half slipped from his loos
ened grasp; the distant stars quiverec
and shrank, as agreat cry rang out and
up to them. lingering and sobbing in ths
Etree-tops like the-;wail of a stricken
woman.
ooh NV Cod! NV God!"