The Washington herald. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1906-1939, 1907-09-08

der Of the hill. a blast stopped down
upon them Ike an eagle from the icy
heights, and went shrieking up the valley,
letting loose the storm. The sky seemed
10 descend upon the mountains. from the
goTEes mists sWirled up 10 meet the
clouds. the whole air was one choking
furry OF singing snow. So sharp and
fierce was the assault that Isobel, blind
ed. GREATNESS. bewildered. swayed he
fore the blast and staggered back. Next
moment she felt the strong support of
COnyers arm, heard his voice IN her ear
through the uproar.
We'll have 10 make a fight for Il:
there's no shelter here"
And step by step they battled on
against the furious wind through the suf-
locating smother Of snow. II was still
early in the afternoon, but so heavy
were the laden clouds so prodigious the
downfall of snow. that what light strug-
gled through was wan and dim. like
fading twilight. Had they had darkness
to contend with too, their plight would
have been hopeless. As 81 was. Il was
desperate enough, for the path in many
places was built up with huge rough
blocks along the edge Of the ravinc, and
a false step amid the mufning snow
would hurl them 20 the depths OF the
gorge, where far away down, when the
writhing mists parted. they could catch
a glimpse Of the Jagged black spikes OF
the pines
Are we IN danger" Isobel asked once
In a low voice
well, a slip here would be rather awk-
ward" said COnyers as Cheerfully az he
could.
With one arm he was supporting IsO-
bel, with the other hand feeling for the
path with his stick, which he devoutly
wished had been an alpenstock
IF only you can hold on, we shall soon
be past the worst Of IL" he added
But cold and fatigue were doing their
work. and TO IsObel at that moment that
swift downward slide through the soft.
yielding snow seemed the easier part
no more questions. no more struggle.
Basil with her. not doubling or won
dering any more.
You're getting tired. I wish you'd let
me carry you a bit" BasiTs voice seemed
to come from long distance off. and
she reused herself TO shake of the deep
ening stupor
Garry me! You couldn't. Il Is only in
stories that full-grown young women are
picked up and carried ike feather
weights" with a valiant effort TO make
light of the situation.
II carried you once. dear, and for a
good way, too" said Conyers; and sud
denly the choking hand about his heart
gave way. It is not easy 10 maintain q
hard and critical attitude toward the
beautiful woman of your love when fac
ing a common danger together, your arm
UNFOLDING her and clasping her 1.-THE
warmth to your side That impossible
scene in the chapel had filed Conyers
with bitterness unspeakable. but the
peril, the struggle they We're sharing.
Isobers courage, her effort not to be a
burden on him. had all been telling on
him, and now the barrier was burst and
his heart flowed out to her again.
'Isobel." he said. as the wind slack
ened a little and breathing was less toll
Il don't want to pry, but l would like
to help you If I could That fellow Ashe
is dangerous snake. hope he's at the
bottom of the ravine. though 1 should
dearly like to have had the pleasure of
sending him there. For Gods sake, don't
have anything to do with him that you
can help. He spoke about some answer
he must have. Has he any right, any
any hold
Isobel dragged her dazed forces to-
gether. With Basil cold and silent she
might keep silence, too; but here in the
warm shelter Of his strong arm
"He thinks he has, was all she could
say.
And you think he wlll-wln go to your
fatherT
II have no doubt he will"
'And-and what will-happen?" gasp
ing with anxiety and the choking gusts
II don't know" hOpelessly.
Conyers paused. in spite Of the need
for haste. For Gods sake. IsObel. trust
me- Is it something that happened while
you were away? II can't be anything
else" desperately; something that you
can't remember. but which that devil has
got hold of, and is distorting for his own
ends. He's playing on your fears, dear,
making a mountain TO your tender heart,
to your pure soul, out of some mOleniii.
If you can't tell me. then, whatever il is
tell your mother"
My mother-Oh. my God. no. cried
Isobel, sharply falling back against the
supporting arm.
Conyers stood still. wrestling with a
wilder storm than the snow-laden gale,
but his first concern was to place the
/ half-fainting girl IN safety. Thinking
must wait till then. He braeed his arm
more tightly about her, and began the
heavy, plodding tramp once more. God
only knew how far they might be from
/ the village. but the word was reduced
| to a yards breadth of digzying. dancing
| snowflakes. Isobel still mechanically
kept her feet. but his own strength he
knew was failing from the double strain
land If So