The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1911-04-05

Her Arrival.
 "Our of doors into the night! On to the maze
 Of the wild wood-ways, Not turning to left nor right From the pathway, blind with "'Now-now'-the door is heard; Hark, the stairs! and near Nearer-and here
 Now! and, at call the third, She enters, without @ word Robert Browning, Mesmerism. For more than a mile that light had cheered on the wayfarer, eXhaus- ton notwithstanding.
 When it was extinguished, some thing like despair took poss ession of the benighted wanderer.
 She stopped short in the rutty lane, the water creaking@ in her soaked shoes, and dripping down her white face. Then a last flicker of nature's instinct of seIf-preservatioN bounded her on: for the throbbing in her raw feet warned her that, should she sink to earth, she would not have the power to raise herself.
 could not have been @ high-road, for in between the wheel-furrows were rough f1tnts, grass grown. The rain descended upon the black fr-trees that might have been the roaring of the sea, beating duly upon the ear. The wind made noise enough to
 drown all other sound. It was un-
 speakably cold and biting, and seem ed to blow from all points of the compass. There was no moon, the
 blackness of the night was impene- trable. It was quite likely that the house where the light had been might be passed unseen in the universal gloom.
 The thought added a kind of pas sion to despair. Hunger and cold, fatigue and fear, drive hard and | mercilessly. She stumbled on-and suddenly, with blacker darkness l than the thick night, the house loom ed up before her.
 It was no mere cottage-a long, low building, surrounded by an old brick wall. Her bare hand trailing along the wet brick, felt g. gap, saw a gIimmer of white-a gate. The numb fingers seemed fumbling for a | long time, first one side of the gate and then the other before the latch | was found and lifted. There lay be- yond a newly graveled sweep, all one yellow slop of liquid mud, with deep puddles here and there.
 As the latch fell with a click be- l hind the intruder, she exhaled a breath of thankfulness: for the light which had just been extinguished-- the light which had been visible from the road-had evidently shone through the semi-circlar fanlight over 1 the door; but in a room to the right l of this door a lamp still burned, nid- den hitherto by the intervening wall | Gratitude to the people, whoever they | | it must have been past midnight
 weiled up in her.
 The house could not be made out, but it was not so pitch park here as
 in the tree-shadowed lane. Dimly the
 shapes of big ricks in the yard be- yond, showed up against the sky. Ii
 ought to have been farmhouse.
 But it's old-fashioned garden had been
 turned into carriage drive: and the light that streamed through the bis- cuit-colored window curtain was rose-shaded.
 l The old-fashioned porch had not
 been removed. There were seats
 within; on either side. The visitor took the knocker, and knocked as
 vigorously as she could--wish an ex- piring effort of failing strength. There
 was minute of silence: minute in
 which that house, and the March storm, and the wild night, seemed to l hold their breath: and, then just as suddenly, muffied sounds were audi
 bIe, of chairs pushed back, of a door
 opening and shutting, and voices 1 speaking. l A strong hand was laid upon the bolts and bars from within; herewith
 a mans voice said, "On foot! He
 must have left the trap in Catten- 1 ford"
 | door Onanad-
 The intruder had sunk down upon | one of the seats in the porch, and l was not immediately visible to the
 man who appeared on the threshold She, on the contrary, was able to see him, and the whole scene, with ex- l traordinary clearness.
 There was a big, square hall be-
 fore her; and upon it's floor, paved in black and white squares, were rugs
 and skins. There was a table, with
 some cinerarias and pelargoniums in i bloom upon it; there was a staircase going up at one corner; the whole was lit by the rose-colored lamp, which has been hastily snatched up 1 and carried to the hall. It showed 1! the place, like a scene upon the stage, with a half -open doorway where stood