The Brattleboro daily reformer. (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1913-1955, 1921-02-05

060O0O0O00060 6dSS6d6SSd6o0
&C. 1920. by Mcclure Newspaper syndicateD
For three days the sparkle of sun
shine and a softer turn TO the winds
had made a deep impression on the
fields of snow and ice. Jane Carew
thoughtfully drawing on her gloves
looked down from the porch of her
pleasant home upon the rushing river
suddenly freed from its winters pris-
on. Madly pursuing its course it
seemingly threatened to take every
thing in IFS way.
just beyond the bridge lay the quiet
little old town, nesting among the
New England hills in the dim twilight,
the white church steepIe and the
courthouse spire rising in the center
as if to proclaim equal rule of love
and law.
To Jane the past ten years had
brought many changes. The reflection
in her mirror only a few moments
since had impressed her with that
thought. Silver threads had already
begun to weave their way among the
luxurfant brown locks, and TO the
pleasant face lines of thought had
been added. But the pink flush OF
health mantled her soft cheeks and
anyway" she added to herself as
she went down the road on her way
to church, 81 still have my voice"
As she paused on the bridge to look
at the rush of water beneath ii almost
seemed TO her as If time had indeed
turned backward for a moment in its
flight and that again Bruce Carter
stood beside her as he had on Just
such a Sunday evening 50 long ago.
With high hopes for their future to-
gether he had still been blind TO ev-
erything but the yearning for wealth.
Like that king of ancient times he
desired nothing so much as that ev-
erything he touched might turn to
gold. And If reports from the far
city were correct, his prayers had
been answered.
The strains of the organ swelled
out to great waves of melody that
slowly subsidized to a low calm and
James sweet voice, a little tremulOus
at first. poured forth the beauty of
the anthem, gaining strength as she
went on, until with glowing eyes and
face upturned, the sweet notes sounded
like strains from the heavenly choir
of which she was singing.
Far back in a dark corner sat
man whose deep-set eyes showed the
troubled mind and restless spirit with
IN He watched the singer as If her
voice. with all its marvellous beauty.
was directed toward him alone. Mem
DRY was alive, and the days came
back when he, Bruce Carter. had once
sung in that choir and had waited
afterward to walk home under the
silent stars with that same sweet
singer.
AS the congregation rustled out he
stood waiting in the dim vestibule,
eagerly scanning each face, some
strangely familiar, others entirely I'M
known. Suddenly a wOman's voice,
pitched high, startled him.
Has Miss Carew come out yet?
Tell her she will have to stay in the
village tonight. The old bridge has
been swept away and they say the
Uatn IS Tedug 10 pIcdh'
There was a murmur of excitement,
and someone exclaimed, 'Why. Jane
went out the side entrance and down
the old road quite a few minutes
ago."
Amidst the general stir no one no.
ticed the man, as with terror clutching
1T his heart, he dashed around the
church and down the hill onto the
old road, where the angry tumult of
the rushing river made a deafening
roar. Could he save her? OF what
use were his thousands now? What
had they brought him anyway? The
question smote and almost stunned
him.
"Janew he called loudly, anguish
in every fiber of his being. Sudden
". as if in answer to his call. Slen-
der figure came running toward him,
Bruce caught her to him as if he would
never let her go, but after one start
led glance at the mans face Jane
grasped his hand
Quick, dear. we must get mp the
embarrassment, the dam has just burst =
she cried.
With the terrifying sound beyond
them coming nearer every moment
they struggled up the side of the steep
slope and reached the top not mo-
ment too soon. As they turned TO
watch the black mass of waters be-
meath them Bruce suddenly gathered
Jane in his arms.