Pierre weekly free press. (Pierre, S.D.) 1889-19??, 1906-09-13

- 1900 ~ =
profession, but nobody asks 1mperu'
nent questions out here!"
It had made Ursula's heart thrill
with excitement, with anxiety. She
tried to learn more, but there seemed
no more to hear The visitor of the
Belmonts' had left before there was
any news of Winstanley. He could
only vaguely repeat that he was sure
to come out all right.
And SO she had stolen out of the
lighted house, and down to the foot OF
the garden, to be alone with her dis
quiet and her doubts. II she could only
have got letter to Noel, or sent her
father word where he was--he had
promised her to look out for bim-but
in this country of vast distances the
space and time between places seemed
so hopeless to overlap. She leant her
arms on the little gate that opened
on to the road beyond, and she could
have laid her head down on them for
very WEAKNESS of spirit and shed
tears.
The night was still and cloudless.
The brilliant moon rode high overhead.
1t was as bright as moon in India
every twig, every leaf, shone silver un-
der it's glory; she was visible, like a
figure thrown up by limelight, to any
one who went past.
Some one was coming down the
silent road with light and stealthy
tread. There is language Of the foot
step that shouts itself aloud to those
who know it's letters. This step said,
II have learnt the need of caution: l
have held life pursued and guarded
like hunted thing. | dare not walk
like honest people, lest I should fall
into the trap of foe"
It came on, feeling it's way, as It
we're, through the too light spaces,
keeping close where the shallow lay
deep. 1t might have alarmed Ursula
as she recognized it's character, but
that she was startled by something
else in it-a kind of dim reminder Of
Noels step. If imagination could
have conceived Of him hiding from an
enemy, lodging dreaded tracker, that
step might have seemed his She held
her breath to listen; she saw the
stealthy shadow that traced itself
against the dusk of the thick clump Of
trees on the other side of the road.
And suddenly the step stopped short
She was plainly to be seen-to be
recognized-and she realized it as she
caught the stifled sound of a sharp ex-
clamation, too startled to be con.
trolled. She looked up, as the shadow
against the dusk started forward into
the open spot beyond, where the moon.
light rested; and then it was she who
almost crieu aloud. For it was the
face of Winstanley that stared at her,
with terror in it's look. And then, even
as she stretched out her hands to him
with the name "NoeT' on her tongue,
the same shock Of dismay came over
her that she had felt that night in Gen.
eral Kenyon's Office at Government
House. The man before her was
dressed in the rough shirt and SLOUGH
hat and riding boots that she had
grown so familiar with since she
landed out there. But it could not
disguise him from her consciousness.
1t was "Baverstock" that she cried
out.
He leapt at the sound of his name,
and started as if he would have turned
to run, but she flung out peremptory
hand. Stop! Listen! You must
speak to me! Come nearer-let ME
see!" AS if her voice had a spell in it
that he could nct disobey, he slowly
drew across the road. She gazed into
his face with hungry eagerness-an
eagerness that brought conviction
yes; it was you! 1t was you that
night" she breathed.
Il don't know what you mean, miss
His voice was hoarse, as much with a
dread of her recognition as with con
sternation and dismay. ri don't know
what night you are talking Of"
She faced him steadily. "The night
at Portsmouth-the night I found you
in General Kenyon's Office and took
you for his aide-de-camp."
Ito Be contInued.)
I