Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1916-01-14
CHAPTER II

Alyan Stewart, with his brother-in-
law, Judge Markham, drove to
Wildwood, a mountain hamlet, snug
ged in q picturesque dale by water
fall and the virgin wood, in north
ern Vermont; a days drive after a
team of swift morgans. And there
together with a mountainecr woods
man they took horseback ride in
to the thickly wooded mountains, to
regale themselves as Stewart said:
with the revlving breath of the
wood"
And while slowly vending their
way over the bri1le-path through
the thick shades into the remote
parts, suddenly there came 20 their
ears, the clear, mellow tones of
flute. Stopping their horses and
listening, Stewart said Where -
when have heard that tune?
Hank All | remember ! 1t was
when | taught school in Paris, Ken
lucky. The person | heard play it
composed It; and | haven't heard it
since" We are coning to tie
cabin of the hermit Of the hemIocG, !.
That's him PLAYING on his nntr, "
said the guide. And soon they came
jnto the hemlock inclosuYe of the
uermit's loIge by the side Of a
brook running swift and clear.
The hermit. sitting on log oy his
cauin, did not notice the visitors as
they approached, so absorbed was
he in pouring out from his tunefuI
fate the music of his soul. All at
once he looked up somewhat startled
to see them standing near. The
guide who knew the hermit, spoke
to him, and introduced the others.
Alvan Stewart grasping his hand
with d Look of glad recognition and
surprise, said: Can it he ? Is it
possible -"
The hermit put his fingers to his
lips, admonishing silence. The
others noticing the mutual recogni-
ton, withdrew pace,
is it possible 20 said he again
in low voice, that this is Marx
Bertram ?'
That old melody you were just
playing brought YOU wildly to NY
mind, and the time we chummed to
gether in Kentucky And you are
Mark Bertram, my old friend and
brother abolitionist !"
Yes, | am he. but | am known
here as GamaIieI Loring, the her
NIT of the hemlocks."
Do tell me why 1t is you are iv-
ing here in solitude, what brought
you here 2"
Have you time to listen its a
long story" said the hermit.
Stepping aside where his conpan.
ions we're waiting, Alvan Stewart
asked to be excused for an hour or
more while he conversed with the
hermit. Returning to his side, he
said: Nov do tell me where you
nave beer, and how you have Jared
all these years ?"
Let re first ask after my boy
where is ne Is it well with him o.
oh yes replied Stwart, u
found good home for him in Al
bany, soon after you left. He has
come up nobly, so | learn"
The hermit gave a sigh Of relief
ard Grasping Stewards hand said
God bless ye fer your Friendship
and help, to save my boy !"
Some twenty years previous &c
this meeting, the hermit had fled On
horse back from Kentucky with hi;
little boy in his arms, to save hin
from falling into the hands Of hi
Wife's foster parents. who with {
bard Of sympathising slave holders
had broken into his house one nigh
to kidnap the boy. Their motive
being, as he we'll knew, to preclud,
his making any effort to recover
a legacy which had fallen to hi
child through the recent death o
his wife, and which they had robbed
her of when a child and largely in
. vested in slaves.
Anticipating their intentions, h
was on his swift horse with his chlI'
in his arms when the kidnapplnl
band broke in. He outrode hi
.. pursuers, and after several days o
hard riding, came to Lake Erie
. and thence by boat to Buffalo, an'