The commonwealth. (Greenwood, Miss.) 1896-1923, 1912-08-23
CHAPTER WI.
The Blacksmith,

The Blacksmith.
l had come up gasping for breath,
well out In the stream, either shore a
mere darker shadow showing above
the water. How far | had been swept
below the barge could not be guessed,
as ] could distinguish no outlines
clearly, excepting the bare spars OF a
vessel, tied up to the west shore. As
this ship had not been In sight previ-
ously / concluded the drift had been
greater than anticipated, and | struck
out quickly toward the opposite bank,
fearful lest | be borne down as far as
Gloucester before / could finally make
land. II was a hard swim across the
swift current, and | was nearly ex-
hausted when / finally crept up the
low bank, and lay dripping and pant
ing in the shelter of some low bushes.
Except for the bark of a distant dog
there was no sound more disturbing,
than the rustic Of leaves, and the lap
ping Of water. AS M breath came
back | sat up, wrung out my clothes
as best / could, and, with difficulty,
drew on the boots | had borne across,
slung to my shoulder.
I possessed but a dim conception of
where was, yet knew I must make a
wide detour to the east SO as to escape
British foraging parties.
] must have plodded doggedly along
through the darkness for fully Ave
miles, without perceiving the first sign
Of habitation, or even a wood into
which l could crawl for concealment,
when l suddenly came upon a long,
one-story stone building standing at
the left Of the road, a grim, silent, ap-
parently deserted structure, one end
Of the roof caved in, and several Of
the windows smashed. I tried the
doors, but they appeared firmly fas-
tened. Far in the east there was a
faint tightening of the sky promising
the approach Of dawn, and thus
aroused to a knowledge that ! must
Immediately attain shelter, l clam
bered through n of the broken win.
dows. and dropped to the earthen
floor within. l could see nothing, not
ever a hand held before my eyes, yet
carefully felt my way forward through
a tangle Of rubbish, wheels, scraps OF
iron, some casks, a number of plough
handles, and a riffraff of stuff / could
not make out. The place had evident
ly been used as a repair shop, but
must have been closed for months, as
I could feel the grit Of dust every.
where, and cobwebs brushed against
my face as | moved about. Finally I
felt the outlines Of a large box half
filed with paper, and, for want Of
something better. crept in and snug.
gled down, intending to rest there un-
til daylight should reveal my sur.
roundings.
! was warm enough now, my cloth
ing practically dry. but thoroughly
tired from the long tramp over the
dark road. and exhausted by the ex-
element through which | had passed.
Even my mind seemed dulled, and 1t
appeared useless to think or plan.
had not intended to sleep, yet drowsi-
ness came, and | lost consciousness.
know not what aroused me, but Il
was already daylight, a CLEAN Of sun
through the windows turning the fes.
TONED cobwebs into golden tapestry.
One side Of the box in which lay
had been broken out, and | could see
the full length Of the shop, which ap-
peared Uttered from end to end with
all n Of implements Of hus-
bandry, and woodworking and black
smiths tools. All this I perceived
with my first glance, but II was the
distant sound Of a voice which as In.
held my attention. At first /
not locate the speaker, nor com
prehend the peculiar singsong of the
u~tterance. But as ! lifted my head,
listening intently. / knew the man to
be beyond the wooden partition at my
right, and that he was praying fer.
Somehow heartened by this
discovery | crept out from the bed of
and stole silently forward to
The narrow door which apparently led
INTO this second apartment. The voice
never ceased in Its m~onotonous ap-
peal, and ! ventnred to lift the latch.
and take cautious glance through the
slight opening.
1t was a blacksmith shop of fair
Size, fully equipped with all the tools
the trade. Tire man was facing me.
with eyes closed. and upIifted, as
lis lips poured forth the fervent words
prayer. ! was not a religious man
n those days. yet the faith Of my
mother was not forgotten, and there
vas something Of sincerity about that
kneeling figure | could not but
The words uttered, the deep
'esonant voice, and above all, the ex.
OF that upturned face. held
ne silent, motionless. He was a man
II short. sturdy limb, but great bulk,
massive chest, and immense shoulders
.'yidencing remarkable strength. What
vas this man, this praying black
A patriot surely. from his
Of petition; n who had sui