Year: 1877

punish him for giving her so much
trouble. Once she almost passed the
shrinking figure; but it held its breath,
and she passed on.


1t was weird game of hide and seek
the dark figure with the ugly face cow
ering among the wheels, listening with
strange kind of savage fear to the light
footsteps that sounded now here, now
there; he heard them climb the ladder
and patter about in the loft, and come
down again, and the voice-not so merry
now-repeat her assurance of finding
the truant, and sudden desire entered
his brain to spring upon and choke her.
1t would not be the first time ne had
done such a deed, but her perfect
audacity seemed to paralyze him, and
again she passed him all unconscious.
He saw her pause in the doorway, dimly
outlined against the sky, and then dis
appear.


"Ef she amt the pluckiest 'un!" he
growled, as he crept from behind the car
riage. "Hanged eff she amt ghost or
suthin."


And with this peculiar comment on
Mrs. Cuthbert's bravery, he shook him
self and made his way out of the barn
with sidelong gait, as if he was used
to Sinking in and out of places.


Mrs. Cuthbert meanwhile sped on to
the house, her steps FASTENED by an
idea that her husband might be there
perhaps he had slipped out of the
barn while she was in the loft, or per-
haps he had not gone into the barn at
all.


Alas for her hopes! The sitting
room was empty, and just as she had
left it.


Not despairing yet, she snatched up
the lamp, and determined to search the
house. From room to room she went
calling upon George, and looking into
every closet and behind and under every
article of furniture, but not a glimpse of
her husband gladdened her eyes, and at
last she sat down by the baby's cradle
and burst into tears.


"Oh, bow can he be So cruell !" she
sobbed, "and for such little thing, He
might have known 1 was only in fun; but
maybe he's only in fun himself, and will
come in soon."


Cheered by this last reflection, she
trotted briskly down stairs, stirred the
fire into blaze, and stood watching it,
too fdgety to settle to her sewing again.
The wood famed noisily, then glowed
silent red, then crumbled and fell, an
untidy, dreary mass of whitened ashes
and dying embers, and still her husband
did not come.


The clock struck nine, and Mrs. Cuth-
bert looked at it reproachfully, as if it
was the time-piece's fault that it was SO
late. Where was her husband? Perhaps
he was wandering about in the dark, un-
sble to find the house. Why hadn't she
thought of that before7 She would put
a lamp in every room.


And in a few minutes lights were
twinkling from all the windows, giving
the little cottage quite gay and festive
air. Who could have guessed that a
lovely women and sleeping child were
its sole occupants? Not the dark figure
with the ugly face, doubled up under
the lilac bushes that bordered the gravel
walk.


As the hours wore on, another dark
figure joined the one of the ugly face,
and was greeted with an oath on his la
illness, and the information that some
thing was up" that the first chance was
"spiled," and they would have to clay
to awhile" and then both dark figures,
with many curse and shiver, crouched
together, biding their time.


Poor Mrs. Cuthbert, as the night crept
on, wandered from window to window,
with the vague feeling that if she could
not see her husband from one she might
from another. Sometimes she stood at
the door, listening intently, and conjur-
ing every breath of wind into the loDged-
for footstep, her heart dying within her
at each fresh disappointment. She must
have walked miles in that small house;
the baby waxed restless, and she was up
many times to replace the coverings
that the sturdy little legs had thrown
off in climbing the invisible mountain
that child is always ascending in his
sleep.


The clock struck one. How like the
voice of fate it sounded Itwas not at all
the cheerful thing that, when the sun was
shining, had announced the dinner hour
that day.


A distant dog bsrked, and Mrs. Cuth-
bert rushed to the door; she had resumed
her sewing to keep herself from going
distracted, and she clasped it in her hand.
What black, black nightl and how
cold the wind was. Hark! she was GER
tain she heard voices by the gate. Yes; {;
she did. just then the baby began to
cry, and only stopping to call back, In
a moment, darling" she plunged down
the walk.


All was silent there was no enc there.
She stood with her hands upon the gate
a few seconds, looking eagerly up the
road, and then walked slowly back to the
house.


As the front door closed, the lilac bush
by the gate quivered, and two dark fig.
ures crawied from under it.
When Mrs. Cuthbert laid the baby In
his cradle, after singing him back to the
invisible mountains, the clock struck two
and Mrs. Cuthbert looked hoplessness il
the face.