Pierre weekly free press. (Pierre, S.D.) 1889-19??, 1917-12-20

rise Dut even then there would
be a long hand-over-hand climb t.
accomplish and the barbed and
pointed spikes had looked very
formidable. In any event, she had
the whole night before her; she
must not act hastily; she must
wait and watch; perhaps some
other means would present itself
perhaps Dan**s
And then the pain Of recollec.
ton stabbed through her. Dan
could do nothing; Dan was to be
himself entrapped; and yet, how
could that be? Perhaps Pach-
mann was lying-and yet he had
not seemed to be lying. He had
spoken confidently, triumphantly,
gloatingly.
She sat erect, listening, then
stole to the door and placed one
ear against it. There were steps
in the hall outside, steps which
passed, which mounted the stair
u Il Is
Perhaps that was Dan; yes, it
must be after Z o'clock
She forced herself to sit again
at the window, but her hands were
trembling. She stared out into the
shadows of the little court and
tried to think. But thinking was
so difficult there was a dull ache
at the back Of her eyes, and her
throat felt dry and swollen. One
thought ran through her mind,
over and over: Dan must not be
sacrificed, Dan must not suffer
even if Germany must triumph
y
Then, suddenly, from overhead,
came the sound Of a sharp scuffle
and a heavy fall. She fancied she
could hear voices raised in anger.
The slam Of a door echoed through
the house. A moment later came
a series of savage blows, of rend-
ing crashes, as though the house
itself was being torn to pieces;-
and then silence.
Kasia stood as though turned to
stone, listining, listening. Was it
Dan? Was it her father9 What
was happening in that room up
stairs? What did that sudden 81
lence mean? Her imagination pic
tured frightful things
And then, from overhead, she
heard the pacing Of swift feet, up
and down, up and down; back and
forth 100 times, as though driven
by some raging spiriting, scourg-
ing, scourging. And then again
silence.
Horrible as the sounds had been,
the silence frightened her still
more; it was filled with menace, it
was charged with terror. Move
ment, sound-those meant life, at
least; silence might mean any
thing-might mean death!
She could endure it no longer.
She ran wildly into the other room
and flung herself face downward
on the bed, covering her ears,
burying her eyes in the pillow
n n
But the terror passed; and at
last she rolled over and stared up
into the darkness and tried again
to think. She must, must, must
escape! Once free, once in the
street, she could summon aid,
could raise the town, could storm
the house! But to escape! She
pressed her hands to her aching
temples.
And then a sound from the outer
room brought her upright; she
listened with bated breath, press
ing her hands against her breast to
still the beating Of her heart.
There it was again, stealthy, scrap
ing
Slowly, cautiously, she stole to
the door of the bedroom the noise
again; and the sound of heavy
breathing. And then her heart
leaped suffocatingly; for there
against the grey light Of the win
dow was silhouetted the figure of
a man. In frantic terror, she
sprang for the switch, found it
after an instant's frenzied CROP
ing, and turned on the lights. The
sudden flare blinded her; then her
s%training eyes saw who stood
there.
"Dan!" she cried. "Dan!"
He was standing on the window
sill, steadying himself by a knotted
sheet secured somewhere over
head; and at the sound of her
voiced, he reeled and nearly fell.
Then, with a face like ivory, he
stopped and peered in under the
raised sash, rubbed his eyes, looked
a second time, and with a low
cry, sprang into the room.
"Kasia!"