Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1922-04-27

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island. Her first fear was the fear of
being .overtaken and carried back. At
Silverburn. where deep river gurgles
under the shadow Of dark bridge, she
heard the crack Of whips. the clatter
OF horses boots and the whoop Of loud
voices.
It was nothing. Only two farm
shandries, the first containing o couple
Of farm girls, and the second a couple
OF farm lads, racing home after mar
ket, laughing wildly and shouting. It
was like something out Of her former
life--one Of the outbreaks Of animal in
stinct that had brought her to where
she was.
But no matter! She would be n
proud and happy woman yet--the Shee.
an ny Feaynid had said so.
After the fear Of being pursued came
the fear of being lost--becoming an out.
cast and a wanderer. She had toiled
the hill The morning haze had van
ishcd by this time, the sun had come
out, the turks were singing in the cloud
less sky, the smell of spring was rising
from the young grass In the fields. the
roadsides were yellow with primroses
and daffodils, and the whole world was
looking glad with the promise of the
beautiful new year that was already on
the wing. It was heartbreaking.
Feeling hot and tired after her climb,
she sat on q stone. The sea was open
from that point, and on the farthest
rim Of II she could see red .funneled
steamer and two black shafts of smoke.
Stowell !! Never. before had she thought
bitterly Of him. But he wds there,
going up to London in comfort, In lux.
It was cruel. But crueler than her
bitter thoughts of Stowell were her
tender thoughts of Cell, He would be
at Derby Haven now, reading with
that twitchiny Of the lower lip which
she knew 70 well) the letter she had
left behind for him, while she was here,
running away from the arms Of the man
who loved her. hut nopmatter about
that, either !. One day, two days, three
days, q week perhaps, and she would
return to him. She was to, be a proud
and happy woman yet--the Sheean ny
Feaynid had snid 80. t
Hours passed. The road stretched
out and out, became sleeper and sleeper.
Bessie felt more and more tired. She
was often compelled to sit by the way.
by the want Of sleep, she fell into a
dOze. The sky darkened and dropped;
the sun went down behind the noun.
tains to the west with straight black
bar across its face that was like
heavy lid over sullen eye. Would she
be able to reach home that night? She
would She must Alick was waiting
for her to some back. She dare not
keep him long.
Evening had closed in before she
reached the top Of the hill. 1t was a
long waste of bracken and black rock,
with no farms anywhere. and only
few thatched cottages that crouched
In the sheltered places like frightened
cattle In a storm. Feeling weak and
faint from long climbing and want of
food, she was about to sit down again
and cry, having lost hope Of reaching
her mothers house that night. when
she came upon little lamb, scarcely
month old, which had strayed away
from the flock and was too tired to 90
farther. s4.~'
The poor creature bleated pitcously
into her face. and she lifted 1t up In
her arms and carried 1t a long half
mile (the lost carrying the lost, the
desolate comforting the desolate) until
she came to high gate at which q
mother sheep was .plunging furiously
In her efforts to get out to them. Bes-
sic put the lamb to it's feet, and it
clambered through the bars, plucked at
the teat, and then there was peace and
silence. .-.
This strengthened her and she went
on for some time longer with cheer.
full heart. Yes. she must reach home
that night. And II 1t was as late as
midnight before she got there. SO much
the better! Nobody must see here
come, and then her mother would be
able to conceal everything.
Night fell 1t began to rain and
the wind to rise. She had never been
afraid Of darkness or bad weather, but
now she took a wild delight In them.
Remembering what other women had
done. she took off her shoes and walked
on the wet roads in her stockings. 1t
was risky, but she cared nothing about
that. 1t might bring on q fever, but
she was strOng-she would soon get
over It. t..-. ... .. -l-
Farmers returning empty from mar
ket offered her lift, but she declined
and toiled on. The lighted windows of
the farmhouses, cleaning through the
darkness, called her into warmth and
shelter, but she struggled along. The
sOles of her stockings were soon worn
to shreds and the stones Of the roads
were beginning to cut her feet, but she
would not put on her shoes.
In her frenzy she hardly felt the
pain. And besides. what she was suf.
fering for Alick was as nothing com.
pared to what Alick had suffered for
her. Only one night! 1t would soon
be over.
She had walked at her slow pace
down a deep descent and through
long valley when she came upon an
inn and big barn that was a scene
Of great festivity. She knew what 1t
was. It was one Of the Bachelors
Balls" which. beginning with Oiel
Thomasc Dhoo (the eve Of Black ThOm-
as) and going on through the spring
of the year, the unmarried men In re-
mote places gave to the unmarried girls
OF the parish. t
The rain was now falling in torrcnts
and the wind had risen to the strength
OF a gale, But II must have been close
and hot inside the barn. for as Bessie
passed ON the other side OF the way.
the doors were thrown Open. The rude
place WAS densely crowded. stable
lamps hung from the rough .hewn raft
ers. At one end the musicians sat on
n mis- tfnrna 'rniaAd On 'ha ProlR A. 'tha