Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 35, Number 142, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 December 1903 — Old Blazer’s Hero [ARTICLE]

Old Blazer’s Hero

By DAVID CHRISTIE MURRAY.

CHAPTER V. —(Continued.) “Madness or no,” said Blane, “I’nPgoing;” and this was the last word-spoken. His comrades offered no opposition to his design, and once more he slid 'back 1 ward Into the pool and disappeared. Half way through his foot touched something which instinct rather than memory told him had not been there upon his first or a second passage. It was difficult working his way past it, but when he had got far enough to touch’ it with his hand his fingers grasped the hair of the missing He forced himself a little farther and took hold of the rough collar of a flannel coat, slimy and saturated. Then began a terrible and almost hopeless, struggle. The pent breath in his body seemed fit to burst him. His temples throbbed horribly and he could hear a ding-dong ns of some monstrous bell. The watery blackness turned blood red, and with every tug he gave at the dragging body of the man he risked his life, for he felt as though he must draw breath or dia Fortunately fee the two rites, this awful struggle was of brief duration. Blane came gasping and spouting out of the water into the black darkness of the uirway, and having drawn but a single rejoicing and mighty inspiration, set both hands to the soaked collar still below the water, and with one great heave dragged the half-drowned and insensible man to safety. CHAPTER VI. “Shadrach,” said Hepzibali, “there’s one thing ns I wonder you niver done." It was June weather. The sky was streaked with faint lines of and rose near the horizon, but the unfathomable soft haze of the zenith still held the warmth and brightness of the fallen sun and delayed the coming of dusk. Hepzibah had brought a kitchen chair into the garden and sat under an apple tree thick with blossoms. She was busily hemming a coarse sort of towelling, and the zip of the needle nnd swish of the thread went on uninterruptedly. Shadrach stood with his mouth only a little less wide open than his-eyes, and with changeless visage and motionless head looked from side to side. jf “Ah!” said he inquiringly. “Amrwhat might that be, Hepzibah?*’ “I wonder you niver made up something about Edward and the Old Blazer.” Shadraeh's face wreathed itself into a slow smile as he looked at her, but catching her eye just as the smile was at the full, he drew his features with ludicrous suddenness to their original expression, and looked sideways on vacancy. “Ha!" cried Hepzibah, “you’ve made up summat n’ready!” The Bard’s aspect, half shy, half boastful, proclaimed the truth of the guess. He drew from one of his coattail pockets a crumpled and dog-eared sheet or two of foolscap paper, covered with a set of knotted, corrugated, and involved hieroglyphics. Hepzibah sewed on, but looked attehtive and expectant. The bnrd cleared liis throat and»began: “ ‘Lines on the Fatal Disaster at the Old Blazer.’” “Put it up for a minute,” said Hepzibah. “Here's Edward.” She would not have stopped him had the theme been different, but she had a delicacy about Edward’s praises being chanted in his hearing. Edward resented the mention of his own heroism, and even Hepzibah, who was privileged to say almost what she pleased to .the members of the Blane household, had been compelled to silence. There was something odd about Edward this evening. His walk was lurching and uneven; his cheeks were blanched and his eyes were strangely glazed. Hopzibah arose in alarm. “Why, Edward,” she cried, “what’s the matter with you? You look as if you'd ’keen a ghost.” “No such thing ns ghosts,” said the miserable young fellow, thickly. “Don't you bother.” Terror, pity and shame rushed upon the simple creatures in such a flood that their wits were swept away. They could only gnze at each other in profound disunity, whilst Ned Blane stood blearing at them with glazed eyes, kis head and shoulders lurching, though his feet stood still. The frank, mauly youngster was all gone, and a caricature stood in his place. Inert, fatuous, mournful to behold. “Mister Ned,” said Shadrach, more in horrified surprise than blame, “you’ve b',en a-drinkin’.” “Very well* then,” returned'Ned, with ghastly unchanging guze and lifted eyebrows. “Why not? Why shouldn't Old Blazer’s Hero cheer his heart a bit as .well's other fellows? Eh?” “Oh, Edward!” Hepzibah broke In, half crying. “That's no way to cheer .hearts, poor dear x>ul. It would be the way to break 'em—yours and mine,''nnd all on us —if it happened often. But anybody may be overtook in a fault, and It niver happened afore, (jo to bed. Edward, there's n love. Do now.” “Poor heart never rejoices,” said poor Ned. “Been to the Minds' Rest. Hero's .health. Old Blnzer. That's iuy*. Saved tyour life, old Shadrach.” • “To think of bis coming through the [streets like this!” km id Hepzibah. “There's crowds in ftie place as ’od be wicked enough to tnke delight in it. And him the stiddiest, ninitnblest —oh. for pity’s sake, don't let hjs mother and the children tee him! Help me to get him ■pstaira, Shadrach!” But unhappily Edward was in no mood to be helped upstairs, and refused all offers of aid iri that direction. He wanted to drink with Bhadracli. He had eared Shadraeh's life, risking almost losing hla owa to do it, aud ho waa moved to tsars by the reflection that Shadrach had never offered to pay for a drink la reward lor this service. Shadrach was deeply wounded by this imphtation on his gratitude. *.*■ “Am for askin’ a gentleman to driak t wi’ m," he pleaded, “I should never ha'

found the cheek to do it. And you know full well, Mister Edward,, it’s very wide o’ what you’d think and say if you was in your right mind this minute.” “Say I’m not in my right mind again,” said Edward, with increased thickness of utterance, “and I’ll give you a hiding.”This threat from a man so placable, amicable, and peace-loving seemed, both *to Hepzibah and Shadrach of as little value as the breath which served to speak it. i ,“Why,” said Shadrach, respectfully propitiatory and explanatory, “yoq know right well, Mister Ned, as you hain’t i’ your right mind just this minute.” And thereupon, without any sort of further warning’, Ned knocked Shadrach down* For a .moment the unexpectedness of the t ,blow and her amazement at it held Hepzibah paralyzed. But in another moment she had pinioned her young master by the arms, both her arms being passed through his at the elbow, and whilst she held him thus Shadrach rose to his feet from the turf and picked up his hat, regarding liis assailant with a sorrow and amazement so profound and so unmjxed with anger or resentment, that the young man’s eyes, lit and cleared by the emotion which followed the blow, caught the meaning in a flash, and he stood rebuked and ashamed. Then being for the moment no' belter than a mere bundle of foolish nerves, with no brains to guide them or will to control them, he began incontinently to weep, and to maunder that it was an accident, and that he loved Shadrach like a brother. And being willing-in this maudlin mood to do anything to which he was bidden, he was smuggled upstairs Secretly, and there partially undressed by Shadrach and finally locked in by Hepzibah.

CHAPTER VII. “Hay-berry-ham!” said Mr. Horatio Lowtlier. “Hay-berry-ham!” Mr. Lowtlier was seated in his office at a table overspread with papers. He made no cessation in his work as he uttered this curious call; but his voice took an ascending tone as he repeated it, until its oily smoothness gave way to a grating shrillness. When the cry had been repeated half a dozcu times a voice was heard overhead: -“Hilo!” “You have been there all the time?” asked Mr. Lowtlier/' "Why did you not answer seener?" —r “Better late than never,” said the voice, and a pair of corduroyed legs came into view on the open stairway -which led from the upper room to the lower. , “What do you mean by ‘better late than never?’ ” asked Mr. Lowther, frowning. “Nothing!” said the voice gruffly, as its owner came into view. “I might ha’ said ‘better never than late.’ It would ha’ been truer about most things.” “Hay-berry ham!” said Mr. Lowther, speaking rnther high in his head, and in a tone of dignified reproof and protest. “Abrum,” the other corrected him doggedly. “Christened name, A-br-a-m, AbTum. Don’t put me on the rack and drag me out into four synnablcs. I won’t have it.” “Did you get the document at the County Court last night?” asked Mr. Lowther. “Yes,” said Abram, a little more doggedly than before. “That’s a nice job, that is.” He was a clean-shaven, wood-en-featured, bald man, with moist eyes nnd a chronic "ribowl of satire. “Where’s thephurry?” he demanded. “It’ll do at night, won’t it? Come, now. Why shouldn’t I put it off till after dark?” He had home downstairs in his shirt sleeves, nnd on receipt of Mr. Lowther’s commands had reached down a coat from a nail on the office tvall. He had struggled half way into the coat, which was rather too small for him, when he paused to put these questions. "You know very well that it will not do after dark,” said Mr. Lowtlier. He added suavely: “Prokerastiuation is the thief of time. Do what you are told.” —CAII right!” returned Abram, struggling with his eoat. “Hadn't I better wait till about two minutes after 1 o'clock? Everybody turns out of the factory just then. Everybody knows me, and when I go into a house they know what I'm there for. Bless your heart, I'm known as well as you are.” “Do an you are told,” said Mr. Lowther, “and do it now.” “Shall I send the town cried round to say I'm going?” Abram asked. “They're a very young married couple. The gall’s always been particular respectable. Folks oughtn’t to know as the bailiff’s in the house.” “Do as you are told,” repented Mr. Lowther, “and do it now.” Abram departed, grumbling inarticulately. He walked at a great pace to Hnckett's house, a semi detached villa on the edge of tlie town, nud having knocked at the door, made himself as small ns he eOuld to avoid observation, until a clean little rosy-cbeekcd maid, in a pink print nnd a smart cap, answered to his summons. The rosy maid blanched when she saw him, for Mr. Lowtlier had had dealings with all sorts of people In his time, nnd the maid kuew Mr. Lowther’s messenger from home experience. Abram, though a duly qualified servant of the court, was in a sense Mr. i/owther’s retainer. When not engaged In his professional duties, Abram did odd jobs for Mr. I.owther, and even in tke exercise of his profession was oftener engaged in his behalf than in that of all other people put together. “Mr. Hackett in?” said Abram, nodding at the maid to claim his old acquaintance with her. "No.” answered the -girl. "Master's gone to the races.” '‘Then tell your missis there’s a party wants to spesk to her.” The maid during this brief colloquy had closed the door little by little, until by thin time only on# of her eyes was

visible behind it, but the visitor pushed It open with authoritative shoulder, and closed it behind him when he had entered upon the neat little hall. .The little maid recoiled before him, and disappeared with a backward gaze of terror. Panting a little and somewhat scared, she knocked at thA drawing room door., Her mistress’ voice' bade her come in, and she entered, and, liaving closed thn door, stood" silent for a moment or two. The three months’ bride was seated near the window looking out with absent eyes. A hair-finished piece of embroidery was in her hands, }iut they lay idly injier lap with an air of Weary lassitude. There was a hint of the same expression in her faet, which was of a delicate aud rather meager oval. Her eyes were of a darkish blue-gray,- mystic and dreamy. Her lips were mobile aud tender, but she had a very decided little chin; and the form of her eyebrows, too, notwithstanding .the dreamy mystery of the eyes they surmounted, looked as though she might upon occasion have a will of her own. When only a second or two had gone 'by in silence, a dim sense that there had been something stealthy and afraid in the girl’s action Intruded itself upon her day dream. She turned and awoke from her fancies with a little start at tbis curious thought, and a glance at the maid’a face confirmed it.

“Wliat is the matter, Sarah?” she asked. • | “Oh, if you please, ma’am,” said the maid, “the bailiff’s in the house!” “What is in the house?” asked *3ttrs. “Hackett. was af'fdult. She had been tenderly nurtured, and knew little of the disgraces and miseries of life. “Mr. Whitelnw, ma’am,” answered the Scared maid. “He’s the County Court man, if you please, ma’am. He was put into father’s- house when he was sold up.” This sounded alarming, but the alarm was only vague. WJiat could the man want here? ' “Where is he?” she asked. “In the hall? I will go and see him.’,’ She descended the stairs, a little fluttered in spite of herself, and encountered Abram in the hall. The man, to do him justice, explained his mission‘civilly, and even with some delicacy. . “You won’t put yourself out about me, ma’am,” he said, “neither about eatin’ nor yet about sleepin’. I ain't particular, nor used to be particular. Dessay when Mr. Hackett comes home he’ll put this little matter straight. Prob’ly it’a a oversight. Often and often I find it so.” * - She left him standing in the hall unanswered, and returned to her old place and posture by the window. The outlook on the summer day had already seemed a little tristful and weary. She had once or twice failed to banish the intruding fear that her marriage was-an irretrievable misfortune. It was early to have to do battle with so horrible a conclusion; it was earlier still to be variquisiff ed by it, even though loyalty Was yet too active and seif-respect too strong to allow her to be conquered for more than a moment at a time. - ' •And here is the place for the revelation of a faet which in its own way is a tragedy. The poor thing had not gone through the ordinary gates of enchantment to marry Will Hackett. She had married that handsome nnd sweet-voiced prodigal, not in the least because she loved him, but because she was going to reform him. Life was to have been nil nobility and self-sacrifice and lofty duty until this black sheep should change his color, nnd then she was to have her. reward, poor child! But Will was one of those effusive, amiable, generous and free-handed gentry who have no more heart than a turnip. He had seemed so affectionate! In his courting days he had been so. easily guided. When a young man has his arm around a pretty girl’s waist it is not difficult to seem affectionate, and young men in their courting days have often Beemed easily guided, though they have turned out sadly tough in the mouth and rusty in the temper a littls later on. But if once the girl who is tied to such a man has gone through the land of rainbows and magic promise ho will never seem to her to be altogether ths brute he is. Something of the old glamour will cling to him and bring yet a hint of the old happy blindness to her eyes. Something of the old, sweet thrill will stir in the heart at times. So aided, the bluck sheep may s£em to he only a littls dingier Ahan his brother of tlie flock. (To be continued.)