Camas Prairie chronicle. [volume] (Cottonwood, Idaho) 1901-1917, 1906-11-30


From the Review office to our hotel
was not great distance, and this we ran,
regardless of the indignation of jostled
wayfarers. My cousin plunged into the
smOking-room and seized Bradshaw. l
looked over his shoulder with an equal
excitement. The next express from Pad
dington was at midnight, and it was
timed to arrive at the nearest station
to Polleven that the map showed US by
twelve-thirty the following morning. But
that village itself was distant by road
a good fifteen miles from the station.
With Cornish hills we should be lucky
If we arrived there by three in the after
noon. The postal guide informed us that
our letter of warning would be deliv-
cred about twelve o'clock next day. A
telegram-for there was no wire to Pole
ven - would scarcely arrive earlier
There was nothing more to be done.
1t was, indeed, shortly before three
o'clock that our carriage groaned and
screeched its way down the steep descent
into Polleven village. At the inn we
soon discovered the direction Of Dr.
WestOn's cottage, and, taking the advice
of the landlord as to the roughness of the
track thither, we left our carriage and
started off on foot After a stiff climb
of three-quarters of mile between rug
ged cart ruts running with water from
the winter springs, we emerged into a
little glen, sparsely wooded. At the
further end, built on the higher ground,
we caught a momentary glimpse of a
building which we took to be the place
we sought From our right, low, boom
ing reverberations told of distant break
ers on a rock-bound coast.
1t was l who first saw her, a glimpse
of white amongst the bare skeletons of
the stunted trees Then at the turn of
the path we met her Her face was pale
as tine linen, her eyes fixed and CLASSY,
her arms with her clenched hands rigid
by her sides. She might have been the
ghost of some great lady who had died
by cruel wrong. So blindly did she walk
that l believe she would have passed
us if Graden mad not sprung forward
and barred her way.
She woke as sleep-walker wakes,
with shuddering surprise. who are
your she asked family. If she had |
not grasped the branch of tree, think |
she would have fallen.
Are you a relation of DIR. Weston's?" !
asked Graden very softly and kindly.
His daughter"
"And you GOT"
$40 kill myself. Oh, nor she burst
out as she sprang forward. 1T is no |
good You cannot help me. The villain |
sits in the porch, waiting and watching.
If l delay, he will kill--my father-my |
poor old father, who is so i'll! Let me |
go-to the cliff-let me go, l say"
Graden slipped his arm round her |
waist, and from his great height looked |
down at her with those honest blue eyes |
Of his that made every child his friend |
at once.
Il am old enough to be your father, |
dear" he said. You can trust me, can't |
you? Yes, yes, knew it, Now tell me |
what have you to do2"
He is waiting in the porch" she an
Swered him. IF he doesn't see me throw |
myself over the cliffs, he win kill father"
Gould he see US coming by the path |
which brought you here2"
"Oh, yes; above this glen it is open |
moor right up to the cottage"
as there a way to the back Of the !
houseT
Yes; but there is no time"
That is foolish talk Come, tell me-"
About two hundred yards back on the |
track you followed here there is a little /
spring amongst the rushes. There is a
path, a short cut which the boys from /
Tie village sometimes take that leads
into the clump of frs by the garden /
wall. The wall is quite low-and then
-Uh3 then-You could get straight into |