Dakota farmers' leader. (Canton, S.D.) 1890-19??, 1907-08-09
CHAPTER XIII.

CHAPTER XXIII.
"She is gone!" The words struck me
with dismay. ! concluded at once hat
old Peter had succeeded in capturing poor
Psyche. He was not a man who threat
ened idly, as the murderous attempt upon
the girls life had already proved. l
spoke my fear to Sir Henry as we ran
to the cottage. You have nothing to
fear from him." he replied, with conf
dence. TT Is more probable that she has
left the house as she did the other day
when she found you gone"
This view was partly confirmed In my
mind when I found the back door I'M
bolted- After taking a hasty glance ia
her room and round the garden we re-
turned 70 the Chase It was there she
sought me before; she knew we were to
dine at the house; it was natural to sup
pose that she had taken the same path,
and had wandered from the open drive
into the deeper shade Of the park. Yet
my heart sang with a fearful misgdving
that the hope was deiusive. We went up
to the house then separating we search
cd the alleys Of the park, calling Psyche"
as we went. But no answer came.
/ found myself on the spot where I
u LNlCA W ~ NY ! ~
her into my arms. Then, noticing . close
thatched hedge, and remembering the
sound Of a stified sob that had reached
my ears, 1 felt convinced that 1t had
ocme from poor Psyche's wrung heart,
and that she, in seeing me embrace Ethel
as I had never embraced her, had learned
for herself what I had not found courage
to tell her-that I loved Ethel more than
I loved her.
my poor little sister !" I cried, and
waited with the last hope of hearing her
sweet voice echo poor little sister !" Not
a breath broke the awful silence. Alone
! went back 10 the cottage. l called her
again and again in the garden, and went
iEto the house to search in every room
with blank hopeiessness. Opening the
door Of my own room, I found a trace
Of her that cr,sped the hair on my head.
The room was strewn with Eesh-cht
flowers. There were flowers on my PHI
low, and beside them the ring that Ethel
had put on her finger.
l sat down, unable to go farther, for
this touching souvenir was too signi6-
cant to be misunderstood. Our CONVERSE
tion of the night before came hack to
me. What she had said in speaking of
the impossibility Of Ethel living with us
applied unto herself-"She could not do
that-it would be too much pain. more
than she could bear. She would rather
live alone than see that you are mine,
and mo- hers" And she had found that
H. was for her TO go away and live alone.
But where had she wanderedY I asked
myself, starting up al ! realized the ne-
cessity of finding the poor girl and sooth-
ms her agitation 1T once. / did not fear
suicide. Psyche scarcely knew what death
was the possibility of seif-destruction
was beyond her Imagination. Had she
simply gone along the road. on and on,
with nc other object in view but to get
away from the place where it was too
much pain to 1--we? No. In her room /
found a clew to her destination. There
was a cupboard In which she kept with
q strange love the relics she had brought
AWAY with her from the cave. The rough
serge sack in which she worked by my
side in the burrow, the shoes she wore
when the days work was done, the neck
lace of shells that / had ground on a
flint and threaded together-they were
gone, and beside her bed lay all the
clothes I had given her in her new life.
I felt sure she had gone back to the
cave to live alone there with the memory
Of those happy dayc when her heart
never ached.
It struck me that among those things
which she could not find words to tell me
about was some sort of a p~remonition of
this return. The old fife was often in
her thoughts but she had dweit more
than usual upon the cave this last night.
Long after DUR conversation about Ethel
she said Brother, do you remember the
pretty things we carved in the wall of
the cave? There was a piece you marked
in black that I neye- had time to finish.
Only . little more and it would b all
finished And later on sAe said: I'VE
have forgotten all about poor CIV: /
wonder II he would know Re again, and
coms on ny shouiAer n I Called
With these yecollections coming 10 my
mind ran across the dowm. There
was only ~ wsy 20 the cave that she
knew, the way b. which We Aad left It
together, and that way I knew de wsuh
try to return hy. I went down the s1p:
10 my eonscsEnat5on he wats5 was N
and after following the shore some d.
tanos I WAS prevented BY tie sea frOm
sctng farther. ran back Up tbs zap
and along the cli6 in frsnsied haste. Bs-
yond Deadmans Point / looked dcw1.
The IiGht had - faded that I could hare
y distinguish the fragments Of cN6
strewed on the shore rom the foam Of
the water breaking against them. Pres
emily I stood on the clif just over the
Govern and strained my eyes In the dark
chaos OF rocks and water below. A few
~jackdaws were wheeling round half way
down; their cry was to me q terrible
omen Then :nlpsng down my choking
emotion, I called for the last time:
Psyche ! sister! Dear PsycAe!"
1t may have been no more than mag
~ination, and yet a cold awe chilled me to
the heart as there seemed to fall upon
my ears that swelling rise and plaintive
fall Of the aeolian song Of my sweet lit
tie helpmate. As I rushed back along the
cliff I met Sir Henry.
What IS the matter?" he cried. .Yon
look like the ghost Of yourself
Poor Psyche is down there I an
suered through my sobs, still running On.
What do you mean, Thorne?" ne said,
his voice almost as broken rs mine.
"She has tried to 80 back to the ave
I know it, l = know it.-and the water has
come upT
.oh. heaven. have / this to answer for,
too !" he cried.
We dashed into the water Ike mad.
men, and waded and swan till tbs point
was rounded, md then we got upon the
send and ran again tin we came among
tie great boulders xMd sssssd fragments
ss ~ fxIln AL sSSf5g 10