Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1907-01-12

preventing. for it was he who had edged
his team against the cliff. They would
have to pass him on the outer side.
| started up the road, shouting to him.
but as | did so, | saw Reski spring upon
the box. | heard cries of furious alter
cation, and then the driver was thrown
from his place. He dropped on hands
and knees; then rose and came running
past me round the bend.
The whip cracked and our team
swung across the road, drawing up on
the edge of the precipic, If the man
who drove the runaways were not struck
with terror, they had yet hope Of
safety.
They were not one hundred yards
away. | could see in the bright moon
light how the horses bounded forward
the traces now slackening, now tighten
ing to the desperate plunges SeyenL,
yards-and the driver had gone mad. He
was waving his arms and shrieking not
in terror, but rather in whoops of joyous
exultation. 1t was a fearful thing to
see those gestures and to hear those wild
imprecatons when death was so very
near. Another second, and they were In
the shadows, close upon us.
And Resk? | had almost forgotten
him. Stiff as a soldier upon duty he sat-
the reins tight in his hand, looking neith-
er to right nor left, waiting the fate thai
might come to him. 1t was only thus
that he could hold his team in their
place-only thus, at the risk of instant
humiliation. Did he dare this for the
simple love of his neighbour Did instinct
hnu nd
friends? God rest him, whether or no.
for by whatever rank men knew him, he
was a most honorable gentleman.
Like flash of light striking through
darkness, l realized that the runaways
were still holding the outer edge of the
road; that it must happen-that there
was no escape. And as | did So there
came crushing, rending shrek that fill
ed the whole air like the falling of
thunderbolt Dmly | saw the great
carriages collide, rebound-and then but
one remained.
The spirit went out Of me. l covered
my face with my hands. crouching
against the cliff, praying to heaven that
at least the screaming of the horses might
soon be ended.
How long | stagyaI there l do not
know, 5Gt was reused by footsteps
passing before me. | started up with
cry.
II beg your pardon, madam" said
well-known voice. Cad; if it isn't Mary
Weston !"
1t was Sir Henry; but what was that
he carried In his arms2
''Who is III" | asked. pointing.
{c
He has had nasty tap on his head
I'm afraid. If you will look to him, Miss
Mary. | will go back and shoot those
poor beasts Of horses"
They found them next morning, lying
close together at the foot of the preci
pice. They told me that their faces wera
curious to see for Marnac still grinned
with the vacancy of his insanity, and
Reski wore also a happy smile, yet one
most differ ent, for ii was such as those
carry who die in noble effort, covering
their memory with honor. For as Sir
Henry has explained, it was Reski who
saved their lives They could never else
have cleared the bend of the road. As 1t
was. when their leading horse jumped
the wall, his weight swung their carriage
round, striking the other on the side, SO
that while they We're left, battered, on
the edge. with one horse dangling-until
the harness broke-Reski, his carriage
and his team, were hurled over the cliff
Marnac had already been flung TO de-
struction at the first impact
We learned in time the details of his
insane scheme A heavy bride had won
the help of the Cornish loafer-though
to be honest with him, the man had no
suspicion of the evil purpose to which
his kilograms would be placed. From
poor Martha, love-lorn and middle-aged.
he had gathered his news. 1t was Mar
nae who had sent the further kilograms
TO Sir Henry, calculating well the time
at which they could arrive. He had
stayed at the village of Alvaneu, and
when the carriage passed it, had begged
q lift as far as Berguu, request grant
ed readily enough by their driver. The
poor fellow had been struck on the head
at the entrance of the gorge, and SO
thrown from his place He had not been
seriously injured, and, indeed, was of
much assistance TO us all later in that
evening.
must dhI AhoN SIA A1CHiS ulSpdlCueu
the whole of the great reward he had
offered to Reskis next of kin. They
were but distant relatives, as his wife
was dead, and it had been his only son
that Marnac murdered.
So ended the story that Robert, right
ly enough, has named The Trail of the
Dead" for indeed it was a blood-stained
path. | would have had Robert him
self to conclude 1t, but that he insists
that there Is no necessity. One thing
only does he ask that l should add
though, indeed, 1t is a matter that will
have been already guessed. To please
him, l will write il down.
Robert and were married In June.
1.-THE End