The pioneer express. [volume] (Pembina, Dakota [N.D.]) 1883-1928, 1908-11-13
Through a.
WOnan'S Heart.
By Sidney Warwick.
By Sidney Warwick.
CHAPTER !.
Out From the Niuht.

"Aen Inc Coor snail be smut, and too
late to cry for mercy when it is the
time Of Justice"
Outside tie church the night and
the darkness were filled with the mel
ancholy cry of the wind, and Stephen
Ruthen had to raise his voice to make
himself heard; for, as he spoke the
impressive words, sudden fiercer
blast sweeping over from the moors
beyond Wildfell rose to scream
about the stone buttresses, shaking
tie loaded easement windows, lending
to the words still deper impressive
ness
There was only sprinkling Of peo-
pie in the church-fewer even than
usual at this mcknight service-and
the lamps in the bo.ly of the church
alone were lighted; in the side aisles
and under the gallery above the iron
studded oak Coor shadowy twilight
prevailed, in which strange ghostly
shapes seemed to Turk, that in the
broad daylight were tombs where long
dead-and-gone lords Of the manor
slept in marble
Wlldfe!l wss a struggling upland
village on the edge of the mors, ly-
ing mile or two distant from the
busy Industrial town of Fe!lsgarth.
Stephen Ruthen was its rector-a tall
man of some three-and-thirty with an
nrrestive, strengthen face thrown out
now in relief against the surrounding
dusk By the wavering light of the pull
pit candles. An attractive face in
srite of the rather stern mouth; there
were deep lines about the mouth, as
though traced by the fingers of some
old sorrow, that made him look
grayer than his years. But when he
smiled, the grave look, if it fingered
at all, fingered only in the deep-set
gray eyes, leaving his face strangely
winning
The clear, resonant voice repeated
The text:
Then shall it be too late to knock
when the door shall be shut, and too
Gate to cry for mercy"
Stephen Ruthen broke off abruptly
with swift indrawn breath, and for
o moment the color ebbed from his
face.
He stood staring across the dim
church with startled eyes, gripping
the pulpit rail for support in sud
den trembling of every limb, the
broken sentence unfinished.
! One at least among the congrega-
tion read the almost uncomfortable
agitation in his face-a girl scarcely
out Of her teens, who was Stephen
Ruthen's sister.
Eilda Ruthen turned her head quick
" In the direction of his riveted eyes.
The heavy curtain screening the door
way under the gallery had filled like
a ships sail and was blowing violently
through suddenly-opened door be-
lind. But, almost as the girl turned,
there CO me the faint, scarcely audible
click as of a losing latch, and the folds
of the curtain fell back into their
stiff lines.
Almost at once the rector recovered
himself, outwardly, at least, though
for a second or two he seemed to have
lost his thread. But, as the brief ad-
dress proceeded, Hilda, vaguely puz-
Fled and uneasy. noticed that again
and again his eyes were drawn, as II
by some resistless fascination, to
where the curtain screened the door
where for a moment he had seen
white face peer!ng. almost like
Ghost, into the church.
The service came to an end; the
benediction was spoken. From the
organ the strains of voluntary
throbbed in waves of sound that sllo
into a sad minor, as though the Wlnds
melancholy soughing had affected the
blind organist. The rector, contrary
to his wont. did not at once retlre 10
the yestry. Across the dim church
h.. eyes followed searchingly the hs-
urss c7 the congregation passed OUT
like shadows.
cot course. was mistaken" he
muttered to himself. 'It could not
have been Olive. And yet He
turned to the verger. "Burrow, were
there any strangers here to-night?'
he said. abruptly.
The mar seemed surprised.
"Straneers? No, sir"
81 thought saw "a strangers
face look round the curtain as I was
beginning my sermon" There was
note OF suppressed eagemess in the
rector's voice.
"Now you mention It. sir, some one
did open the door then; the rush of
wind set the curtain differing. Some
one peeped in. but went out at once.
It was village lad, sir, I'm pretty
sure, who wanted to tell 'em at home
what your text was. to make out he'd
been at service instead of larking with
other good-for-nothings. know the
young rascals!"
Stephen Ruthen walked slowly and
thoughtfully to the vestry, whilst the
verger .extinguished the lights one by
one. From the organ loft the music