The Watertown weekly leader. [volume] (Watertown, Jefferson County, Wis.) 1912-1917, 1914-11-17

spread to an unbearable radiance.
Shirley thought she cried out with a
sudden sweet wildness, but she had
not moved or uttered sound The
illumination was all about her, like
a splendid cloud. The impossible had
happened The miracle for which she
Historically prayed had been wrought!
When she blew out the light, the
shining still remained. That glowing
knowledge, like vitalizing and phys
ical presence, passed with her through
the hall to her room. AS she stood in
the elfish light of her one candle, the
poignancy of her joy was as sharp as
her past pain. Later was to come the
wonder how that tragedy had bent
Beauty Valiant's life to exile and her
mothers to unfulfillment. and N time
she was to know these things, too.
But now the one great knowledge blot )
Led out all else. She need starve her
fancy no longeri 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 lilies.
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
i love you! want nothing but you'll"
How her pitiful error had tortured
and wrung them both! But tomorrow
be, too, would know that all was we'll.
A clear sound chimed across the
distance-the bell Of the courthouse
clock, striking midnight One!
Two! How often lately it had
run discordantly across her mood;
now 1t seemed claimant watcher,
tolling joy. Three! Four!
&. Five! Perhaps he was
sleepless, listening, too. Was he in
the old library, thinking of her?
Six! Seven! Eight!
Nine! If she could only
send her message to him on the bells!
Ten! 1t swelled more loudly
now, more deliberate. Eleven!
Another day was almost gone.
Twelve! "Joy cometh in the
morning"-ran the whisper across her
thought. 1t was morning now.
Thirteen!
She caught sharp breath. Her
ear had not deceived her-the vibraA
ton still palpitated on the air like
heart Of sound. It had struck thir-
teen! A little eery touch crept along
on her skin, for she seemed to hear,
quavering through the wondering ST.
| lence, the voice of Mad Anthony, as
it 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 co'ot-house clock a-strikin'
in de night-en yo' gwine.
| Dom wait, dom wait, iii mistis, er
de trouble-cloud gwine kyah him
erway fom yo' When de clock
strike thuhteen-when de clock strike
thuhteen-"
She dropped the Powered curtain
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 lonely
country roadside, girl? Incredible!
Yet her mind had opened to vague
growing fear that was swiftly mount
ing to thriving anxiety. That innate
superstition, secretly cherished while
derided, which Is the heritage Of the
Southron-born 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
darkling In her blood, come down to
her from long generations, we're sud-
denly compelling her. The curtain
began to wave in little wind that
In the yard below she could hear Sc
linn nipping the clover.
She was to go or the "troublecloud"
would carry him away!
A strange expression Of mingled
fright and resolve grew on her face.
She ran on tiptoe to her wardrobe
and with frantic haste dragged out q
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
short gasp, and once she paused
with an apprehensive glance over her
shoulder and shivered. She scarcely
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
of her feet and whirled away into
| some outlandish limbo of shadowy
fear 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-
ing, but she silenced him with whis-
pered word. Selim lifted his head and
she patted the snuffling inquiring
muzzle an instant before, with. her
hand on his name, she led him
through the hedge to the stable. It
hut of -