The Emmett index. [volume] (Emmett, Idaho) 1893-1925, 1914-07-02

her past pain. Latter was to ccme tn
wonder how that tragedy had ben
Beauty Valiant's life to exile and he
mothers to unfulfillment, and in TIM
she was to know these things. too.
But now the ore great knowledge blot
ted out all else. She need etarve her
fancy no longer! The hours with her
lover might again sweep across her
memory undenied She felt his arms,
his kisses, heard his whispers against
her cheek and smelled the perfume Of
Madonna lilien.
She drew the curtain and opened
the window noiselessly to the light
Only few hours ago she had been
singing to her harp In what wretched'
ness! She laughed softly to herself
The quiet night was full OF his voice:
Il love you'll | want nothing but you!"
How her pitiful error had tortured
and wrung them both! But tomorrow
he. too, would know that all was well.
A clear sound chimed across the
distauce--the bell OF the courthouse
clock. striking midnight. Onel :. :.
Twol How often lately 1t had
run dlscordantly across her mood;
now 1t seemed a CLAIMANT watcher,
tolling Joy. Threei Four!
Five! Perhaps he was
sleepless, listening, too. Was he in
the old library, thinking OF her?
Six! Seven Eight
:. +. Nine! II she could only
aand har roaaaaoa IN him an tho heIIai
Ten! II swelled more loudly
now, more deliberate Eleyeni
Another day was almost gone.
Twelvel Joy cometh in the
morning"-ran the whisper across her
thought. It was morning now.
Thirteen!
She caught a sharp breath. Her
ear had not deceived her-the vibra-
ton still palpitated on the air like a
heart of sound. 1t had struck thir
teen A little eery touch crept along
her nerves and a cool dampness broke
on her skin, for she seemed to hear,
quavering through the wondering ST.
lence, the voice of Mad Anthony, as
1t had quavered to her ear on the
doorstep of the negro cabin, with the
well.sweep throwing its long curved
shadow across the group of laughing
faces:
"Ah sees yo' gwine ter him. All
heahs de coot-house clock a-strikin'
in de night-en yo' gwine.
Dom walt. don wait. III mistis, er
de trouble-cloud gwine kyah him
erway rom yo When de clock
strike thuhteen--when de clock strike
thuhteen-'
She dropped the lowered curtain
and drew backs A weird fancy had
begun TO press on her brain. Had not
Mad Anthony foretold truly what had
gone before? What If there were
some cryptic meaning In this. too? To
go to him, at midnight, by a lonely
country roadside, girl? Incredible!
Yet her mind had opened to q vague
growing fear that was swiftly mount
ing 10 thriving anxiety. That innate
superstition, secretly cherished while
derided, which is the heritage of the
Southronborn bred from centuries of
contact with a mystical race, had her
In its grip. Yet all the while her
sober actual common-sense was crying
out upon her-and crying in vain.
Unknown appetences that had lain
darkllng in her blood, come down to
her from long generations, were sud
denly compelling her The curtain |
began to wave in little wind that
whispered in the silk. and somewhere |
in the yard below she could hear Sc
lin nipping the clover.
She was to go or the "trouble-cloud"
would carry him away!
A strange expression OF mingled
fright and resolve grew on her face.
She ran on tiptoe to her wardrobe
rough cloak that fell over her soft
house-gown. covering 1t to the feet 1t
had peaked hood falling from its
collar and into this she thrust the
resentful masses of her hair. Every
few seconds she caught her breath in
a short gasp, and once she paused
with an apprehensiye glance over her
knew what she did, nor did she ask
herself what might be the outcome of
such an absurd adventure. She nei-
Their knew nor cared. She was swept
off her feet and whirled away into
some outlandish limbo OF shadowy
lear and crying dread
Slipping off her shoes, she went
swiftly and noiselessly down the stair.
She let herself out of the door and.
shoes on again. ran across the clover
A hound clambered about her, whin-
ng, but she silenced him with whis-
,ered word. Selim lifted his head and
he patted the snuffling inquiring
nuzzle an instant before, with her
land on his name. she led him
through the hedge to the stable. 1t
vas but the work of a moment to
brow on a side saddle and buckle the
firth. Then, mounting, she turned
lin into the lane.
He was thoroughbred, and her tense
excitement seemed to communicate
Itself to him. He blew the breath
through his delicate flaring nostrils
md flung up his head at her restrain
ng hand on the bride. Once on the
Red Road she let him have his will