Jasper County Democrat, Volume 7, Number 42, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 21 January 1905 — When Hearts Were Brave, and true [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

When Hearts Were Brave, and true

JOHN P RITTER.

(/89b >r//£4e/m#.

CHAPTER n. A FRIEND IN NEED. In vain did the prisoner protest that he was the victim of a false accusation; that he was under no pecuniary obligations to Farmer Price, but that the money paid to him by his employer, on which the charge for his arrest was based, was for services faithfully rendered. The word of the wealthy farmer was sufficient to deprive him of his liberty, while his influence was such that he could have Roblin’s trial postponed for almost an indefinite period. In truth Zadie’s father was aware that the young man’s confinement in jail was an effectual obstacle to bis lpvemaking, while at the same time it cleared the way for carrying out his plans of marrying her to Caleb Shnrker. But Edward Roblin was not the kind of man to despair. Buoyant by nature, possessed 6f a resolute will and great confidence in his own resources, he bore up under his misfortunes with cheerful courage and sought consolation in the exercise of the talents with which nature had liberally endowed him. To while away the dull hours of his imprisonment he learned to play the fiddle. In this instrument he discovered a new language in which to express his disappointment and sorrow, his deep affection for his sweetheart and all the tumnltnous emotions that harassed his melancholy soul. Plaintive strains of melody, wafted through the bars of his cell, reached the ears of romantic damsels in the outer world, and they would gather under his window of a pleasant summer evening to exchange sighs of pity on his behalf, for his story had got abroad in Goshen, and he had become the ideal hero of many a sentimental heart. Months rolled by, and still Roblin remained a prisoner. No trial had been accorded him, nor was there the slightest prospect of a hearing for his case, and all this while he had received no word or token from Zadie. It was apparent that the vigilance of her father was never for a moment relaxed and that no messages could pass between them. The strains of the fiddle were now so melancholy and grief laden that one of the prisoner’s fair listeners was moved to active pity and resolved to offer him substantial consolation.

Joe Weetbrook, the jailkeeper, had a very beautiful daughter named Polly. She was of great assistance to him in his work inasmuch as she had assumed the entire duty of providing food for the prisoners. And now that one of them had interested her sympathies ehe took upon herself the further duty of taking their meals to them in person. It may have been the result of accident, but, singularly enough, the fullest plate and the choicest viands now found their way through the “grief hole” of Edward Roblin’s cell. Occasionally a delicacy not included in the bill of fare was added to his meals. Sometimes it was a quail or partridge, sometimes a flask of wine. There was no mistaking the significance of these gifts. They informed him that a mysterious friend was taking an interest in his welfare. As soon as he was convinced of the fact he resolved to, ascertain this person’s identity, so he set himself to watching. Heretofore it had been his custom to keep aloof when his meals were brought him: now, however, he determined to take them in person from the tray. The next time his ‘‘grief hole” was opened for the introduction of food, therefore, he advanced to the door and greeted the tray bearer with a cheerful salutation. “Good day to yon. friend!” he cried as he took the dish proffered him. “I thdnk yon most gratefully for yonr attention. ” A deep drawn sigh was the only answer to his words.

“What! Have yon no cheering reply for me?’’ he asked, beginning to. suspect the truth. “Come, let us shake hands, for I bear you no grudge, although you are my jailer. ’ ’ As he had anticipated, a white hand and just the suggestion of an intrancingly lovely arm were thrust through the “grief hole, ’ ’ and, after he had pressed the fingers, withdrawn in timid haste. “God bless yon, my friend!” exclaimed Roblin, with genuine feeling, “for, whoever yon may be, I am sure you sympathize with my unhappy fate.” “Alas, sir,” answered the sad, sweet voice, “who would not sympathize with yon V ’ Further conversation between them was interrupted by the sound of footsteps in the corridor. Nevertheless their brief interview was sufficient to convince the prisoner that he had made a friend upon whom he could rely. Every day thereafter Polly Westbrook found opportunities to visit the cell of the captive when no prying eyes were near and cheer him with consoling words. Like Pyramns and Thisbe of old, they whispered through a wall, the “grief hole” affording them an easy means of communication. It soon became apparent to Roblin that the girl was desperately in love with him. He was still too deeply enamored with Zadie Price tofnlly return her affection. Nevertheless he regarded her with an admiring fondness which might in time ripen into a more tender feeling. And now an event occurred which brought this very thing td pass. Driven to desperation by the entreaties and commands of her tyrant father Zadie at last married old Caleb Sharker. As soon as thia was consummated. Farm-

«r Price paid a visit to the Goshen jail and communicated the news to young Roblin. Indeed he took a malicious pleasure in so doing. At first the young man was completely prostrated. He flttng himself down on his pallet, and, turning his face to the wall, abandoned himself to the dull apathy of despair. Bnt he possessed too decided a character to die of a broken heart. Gradually his grief gave place to a burning desire for revenge, and he rose np the em-' bodiment of resolution. Realizing the futility of his design unless he could escape from his prison, he set his wits to work to devise a means of accomplishing this end. And naturally his thoughts reverted to Polly Westbrook. Accordingly the next time the devoted girl paid him a visit he broached the subject in such a tender, appealing way that ho completely won her over to his plans. “Polly,” he began, “I know you do not wish to see me die in prison, but die I will, unless speedily released from confinement. I ain poor and friendless, as you know, so can expect no assistance from the law. If lam to regain my freedom at all it must be through you, Polly. In short, yon must aid me to escape. ” “Alas, and never see yon more?” she returned with a sigh. “That will be very hard, Edward. Yet, if you wish it to be so, I will help you. ” “Never see me more, Polly ?” returned Roblin, gently. “Do yon. mean to tell me yon are so deeply attached to this doleful place that yon will refuse the chance to leave it?” “But how can I leave it?” she cried plaintively. “It is the only home I have. ’ ’ “Nevertheless I offer yon an opportunity to leave it. ’ ’ “How?” “By making your escape with me.” Polly uttered a little cry of joy, which was checked half way by a mournful sigh. “What yon ask is impossible, Edward,” she answered sadly. “Indeed I fear I must have been foolish and forward for yon to think so lightly of my character.” * “On the contrary, I respect yon higm ly, or I would not ask you to become my wife. ’ ’ Again she uttered a little joyous cry. “Did yon mean that we should run off and get married?” she asked eagerly. “Exactly.” “Oh, my darling Edward.” Interpreting this exclamation as a Consent to his proposition, Roblin now proceeded to arrange the details of their intended elopement. “Can yon procure a key to my cell?” he asked. “Easily.” “When?”

“Tonight if yon like.” “Good,” he exclaimed eagerly. “Then let it be tonight. Gather what yon need for our journey in the mean 1 time, so that we will not be delayed in starting. At what hour will yon come for me?” “About midnight, ” she replied. “Father will be asleep then, and I can filch the keys from his pocket. ’ ’ “Then so far everything is arranged, ” said Roblin. “And now to the most difficult part of onr scheme. In order to elude pursuit, Polly, it will be necessary for ns to procure a fleet horse and some kind of a conveyance. ” “Alas, I never thought of that,” she replied, with a crestfallen air. „ “Oh, don’t be downhearted about it, Polly!” he said laughingly. “Once I am outside these walls I will find a horse quickly enough. ” “Yon don’t mean that yon will steal one, I hope?” she asked doubtfully. “I’ll borrow one,” he answered ironically. “Now, I dare say, Polly, that your father has a horse in his stable that he would be perfectly willing to lend us. Am I not right?” “The chestnut might answer onr purpose, ” she said reflectively. “Bnt, then, we must be sure to return it, for it is my father's favorite roadster.” “And now for a conveyance,” suggested Roblin. “As to that,” returned Polly, “father has a chaise in the barn which I think he could spare for a few days. ” “Excellent!” exclaimed her lover triumphantly. “Our plans are all complete. And now yon had better go, Polly, and prepare for tonight’s adventure.” The girl shook hands with him through the “grief hole,” and then turned away with the words: “Remember I will return here at midnight.”

CHAPTER 111. AN ELOPEMENT THAT SUCCEEDED. The clumsy hands of the great wooden clock in Joe Westbrook’s kitchen indicated a few minutes before midnight when Polly crept stealthily into the room. By the light of a lantern she carried it could be seen that a shawl was thrown over her shoulders and that her head was covered with a bonnet. “Almost midnight!” she exclaimed in a whisper as she cast a frightened glance up at the clock. ‘‘l am late and have no time to spare. But how my heartbeats! The thing seemed easy in the planning. But now I doubt if I have courage to do it 1” Here she gave a terrified start, for she thought she heard her father calling her. But it was only the mournful wailing of .. an owl outside. Waiting until she bad recovered from her terror, she set the lantern down on a table and tiptoed to the door opposite the hearth, which opened into her father’s bedchamber. As she placed her hand upon the knob she hesitated, trembling at the thoughts that occurred to her. “What if my father should awake!” she reflected. “Wha6 if he should discover me in the act of stealing his keysl Oh, it is too dreadful to think of! Indeed I had better stop jnst where I am. ” A shudder passed through her body, and she was on the point of returning to her room, when the thought that her lover was expecting her inspired her with reneygd contggfi.

“No, I will not turn back,” ah* mattered, m she slowly opened the door. “My dear Edward’s freedom, nay, his very life depends upon my bravery, and, no matter what happens, I will not fail him.” Having come to this resolution she cautiously crept into the apartment. It was ntterly dark. She paused a moment to make sure that her father was sleeping and, hearing his heavy breathing, began to creep forward again. She was aware that he always kept the keys to the cells in his coat pocket. Bnt where had he hung his coat? She began a careful search of the room to find ont and at last discovered it hanging from the bedpost at his head. She was now so near him that she could distinguish the vagne outlines of his recumbent form in the darkness, and again her heart beat fast with apprehension. “Now or never!” she exclaimed inwardly. Stretching forth her hand with catlike stealthiness, she began to search the pockets one by one. It was not until she had groped in several of them that she finally found the keys, and then an unfortunate thing happened. As she was in the act of drawing them forth they slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor with a sharp ringing sound. “Who’s there?” b It was the voice of her father. He had raised himself up on an elbow and was apparently listening intently. Polly drew herself back from the bedpost and remained as silent and motionless as a statue. She was literally frozen with terror. A few moments of agonizing suspense followed, and then her father turned over on his side and quickly relapsed into slumber. Waiting until she was sure he was asleep, she stooped down and recovered the keys. Then she glided like a ghost from the room. On regaining the kitchen she picked up the lantern and hurried away to the cell of her lover, who was anxiously awaiting her at the “grief hole.” ► “What makes yon so late, Polly?” he whispered. “Oh, please don’t ask me,” she replied in a voice half stifled with emotion. “I have had a terrible fright, bnt I cannot tell you about it now. Come, let ns leave thie dreadful place before we are discovered. ’ ’ While speaking she turned the key in the lock and swung the cell door open. Roblin could scarcely restrain a cry of delight when he found himself once more at liberty. He followed Polly through the corridor to the jail door and from thence across the yard to her father’s stable. Close to this building stood a stately horse chestnut tree, from which a large branch had recently been broken. On his way to the stable Roblin’s eye chanced to fall upon the limb, and an idea occurred to him. “Polly,” he said laughingly, “it would be hardly fair for us to take yonr father’s horse without offering him some compensation, so I intend making a fair exchange with him.” While speaking he shouldered the dissevered branch and carried it into the bnilding. “What do yon intend doing with that broken bough, Edward?” asked the girl in tones of wonder. “Yon will see presently,” he replied, with difficulty suppressing his mirth. “While I’m harnessing the horse, Polly, try to find me a pen and some paper, will yon ?” The girl departed to do his bidding, and, although she was gone but a few minutes, she found everything ready for their departure on her return. Her lover took the writing materials she had brought him and, making a desk of a barrel head, proceeded to write a letter to the jailer. When it was finished, he fastened it to the chestnut bough, tied the letter in the stall from which he had just taken the horse and beckoned Polly to his side. “I want yon to see what I have written yonr father, ”he said. “lam Bure he will be pleased with it. ” The girl placed her lantern close to the paper and read the following: My Dear Father-in-law (as you will be when you read this)—Pardon the liberty I take in exchanging horses with you. I acknowledge tliis is a horse of another color; ■till there is not much difference. As yours was a chestnut horse, the exchange is but fair, for this is a horse chestnut. It is the best legacy I can leave you at present, coupled with the best wishes of Edward Roblin. Polly could not help laughing at this display of humor, bnt she was too keenly alive to the danger of their position to indulge her merriment long. “Come, Edward,” she entreated earnestly; “let ns hurry away from this place as fast as we can. We must not j have this elopement a failure. ”

“But where is the bundle you were to bring ?” he asked. “You must not forget that.” “It is already in the chaise,” was the answer. “Then we will start at once.” With these words he assisted Polly into the vehicle, and, mounting to the

■eat behind her, drove qnicEly ont of the stable. “And now,” he said, as he urged the horse to a trot, “the question is where are we to find a dominie?” “It wonld be better not to think of that now, ” answered Polly, “at least, not nntil we are safe from pursuit. I dare say we can find a clergyman on the other side of the monntains. ” So toward the mountains they made their way, driving the chestnut at a rapid gait. At first the road afforded an excellent opportunity for the horse to display his good qualities, bnt as they gradually drew nearer to the monntains it became more and more ragged and hilly, obliging them to slacken speed. On reaching the foot of the range, it deteriorated into a mere trail, sometimes passing through dense thickets, and again following the course of raging torrents, yet all the while pursuing a westerly direction toward the frontier settlements on the Delaware. At last they reached the summit of a steep precipice that overlooked the valley they had recently left. Here Roblin drew rein to take a snrvey of his surroundings. Below him stretched the dim plain, around and above, an impenetrable forest, humming with a multitude of insect voices, and the harsh, wailing cries of creatures of the night. ”Oh, tell me, Edward, have we lost ottr way?” asked Polly in terrified tones. “I’m afraid we have, my dear,” he replied, pressing her little hand to reassure her. “Oh, what will become of ns!” she exclaimed, beginning to cry. “These monntains are filled with all kinds of wild beasts, and we’ll certainly be devoured before morning.” At that instant a stone came tumbling down the rocky trail. It was a mere pebble, bnt to Polly’s frightened ears the sound of its fall was like the crash of an avalanche. With a cry of terror she glanced quickly into the darkness ahead, fully expecting to see a bear or a catamount emerge from the gloom, but she could distinguish nothing. “Did yon hear that, Edward?” she whispered fearfully. He motioned her to keep silent and listen. Not a sound broke the stillness of the solitude. It seemed that even the buzzing insects with which the forest abounded were conscious of the approach of an enemy. They were beginning to breathe more freely when they heard a rustling noise in the bushes to their right. It approached nearer and nearer, and presently a shadowy figure pushed ont of the thicket and stood motionless in the middle of the trail. It was a man. Scarcely had they recovered from their surprise at his sndden appearance when he covered them with the long barrel of a rifle and cried oat in a tone of command: “Surrender!”

Polly placed her lantern close to the paper.