The Camden chronicle. (Camden, Tenn.) 1890-current, 1905-04-21
The Travellers Dream.
BY L. I. DESLEIGH.


every open chink in flooring, door and
window.
A flash of flame, and the full horror
of my state burst upon me. l was
about to be burned alive?
In my agony of fear l rushed to the
door! 1t was locked; it resisted all
my efforts! My enemy had doomed
me to destruction in this horrible man
ner with cruelty too coldblooded for
a f1end!
Now | understood the meaning of
his laugh. | was to be swept from
his path, and he knew that he had
achieved his murderous purpose.
| awoke trembling. | struck light
and consulted my watch l felt no
wonder when I found that it was
few minutes after three o'clock in the
morning. | remembered that | actual
ly gazed around in nervous alarm, lest
the smoke and flames should be pres
ent. This was a chimera; still, so
painfully had my dream impressed me
that l spent the hours that had to
elapse before the day broke in con-
tinual apprehension of approaching
disaster. But nothing happened: the
storm abated, and then ceased, and
with the first glimmer of light joy
fully quilted the cottage, expressing
the earnest wish that | might see it
never again.
1t was not long before l met with
farm hand going to his early work.
and by him | was conducted to the
house of his employer, jolly farmer,
who acted toward me as the best Of
good Samaritans He fed me, and he
clothed me; he drove me in his dog
cart to Lanfair, explaining that he was
one of Mr. John Lanfair's tenants, but
one thing neither he nor his employee
would do-they would neither of them
allow me to speak of the habitation
in which l had spent the previous
night. Each uttered the same single
exclamation when l sought to tell my
story: "You must have stopped at
Deadlake FARM" and with that they
closed the subject in a peremptory
fashion. Well, Mr.. John LAMAR
should resolve the mystery.
1t was afternoon. My host and l
were sitting in his library, with the
sun beginning to sink toward the west,
and radiating its golden lights, when
with the following words my compan-
ion narrated the story of Deadlake
Farm:
Until some two years ago, Dead
lake Farm was occupied by a young
farmer named Blythe, who was mar
ried to charming wife, and who
only needed children to complete his
happiness. No man in the neighbor-
hood was more liked and respected,
and no woman was more admired. In
deed, | doubt If | ever set eyes on so
perfect type of rustic beauty as Mrs.
Blythe. Troubles never came near to
the fortunate couple, who would have
been the subject of envy had they been
less amiable, but their neighbors sin
cerely rejoiced in their prosperity. How
often have | heard the remark pass
round that Blythe's presence at any
social gathering made the whole scene
look bright.
Then, without the least warning, the
thunderbolt fell. Mrs. Blythe left her
home with companion-so much she
declared in a letter-but of ..st com
panion's identity the husbazls Gss Rst
even a suspicion
Poor Blythe's distress was fright
full to witness, and for a time | feared
that his mental powers would alto
gether give away; but this did not
occur, and he settled down into a
state of sullen, savage gloom. Then
he also quilted Deadlake, bent, as it
was commonly believed, upon finding
his wife, and avenging himself upon
the man who had done him such in
famous wrong.
"He was absent for some weeks, and
On his return he was resolutely silent
about his proceedings. We did not
know then, we do not know at this
whether he met with the
guilty pair. 1t is all matter of con-
lecture. But Blythe now settled him
self at Deadlake, and there he re-
sided in absolute solitude; he would |
not allow even a servant to sleep in |
the house. and he avoided all inter-
course with his neighbors with scrupu-
Gus care. 1t is proboble that since
he came back from his quest, success-
full or otherwise. no human being but |