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Star (Christchurch), Issue 6377, 24 October 1888, Page 1

THESS323RV: OF A MmM'S\ J COURAGE. 71 (Concluded^ : .'$ •reUtalfc-heae-t of Jot -aenses .^Tdled,, hex hearing awpeared to haie become^ J .Materaatnrally sharp- She aeemed^to i W_b*M-Wifar<jf ] twelve miles aaaju .The throb., voob* throb of the -_*_m Jcept pace iwith her 1 beating heart &-A heard the hollow « oahc^l-t)mtb^T*i«irighttTOrnig ; h_B».yfl» • train crept over the . embankments, its i deafening damonr as it rushed acroa* J trestl^iro^it_"dWl«anb-e as it rolled 1 over soJid ground- She even seemeoL to see the engineer as-helaidhis band on the J escape-valve, ready to giv^theiron monster -i ■wee asitneared tl» Htto raountaintown, then the wild shriek of the escaping steam* the clangour of tbe bell, the puff, puff, as < the, tnrin Blackened speed, the clatter ofthe j brakes, tiw jangle of the couplings; Woidd she never reach the little red | itation-boose, now plainly in sight at the end of the smooth gravelled road ? She < was passing the p6_t-o_ace, where people idly gazed at her. What matter ! If only ; there were a horse and buggy in sightv to help heron her way! If only one ofthe loungers would understand and take up the mission which her spent strength seemed inadequate to fulfil! Bufr she Slight not turn aside. On the dep-t platform more loungers, Jim among them, rolling a quid of tobacco in his cheek and talking earnestly about the state of the weather and the prospects of the growing crops. They all looked npon her as a mad woman as she ran past them. Jim muttered an expletive under his breath, moved by the Btrong indignation that must always possess a selfrespecting servantwhen master or mistress does something derogatory to the dignity of his " family." . The station-master was in his office, talking with a gentleman who had come down from the mountains and was waiting to take the train to the city. He was clad in a hunting-suit, and waa talking with some excitement., "It has rained all the week, he was Baying ; " yon think it xaiDß here in the valley, but, great guna ! youshould be up in the mountains in arain-storm. Sheets and aheetß of it— blizzards of Bleet and hail, and the wind blowing like a hurricane. We broke, camp yesterday. * I took a beeline down-here. The rest crossed the hills to the station above. They'll be down on thefoui>o'clock." _ __ Voice and speaker were familiar to the woman who stood in the doorway, both hands pressed to her panting breast. The words*, oame only too distinctly to her quickened senses. Then her premonitions were true, and Tom— Tom was on that fated train. Again her body reeled, but her steady brain saved her. " Stop the train ! The bridge is gone ! " she cried. Both men looked up,, startled at the words. With the prompt movement of . a msn trained to obey orders, tbe agent 'leaped to Mb instrument ; the other man, slower to comprehend, came forward, the [look of amazement on his face, as he viewed the singular apparition in the ,doo*rway,gi ving plaoetoamuße(l indulgence, as he recognized the speaker. What an eccentric, impetuous girl Kate Mitchell rslways was, and what a life she must lead TomMidleton! . " This is quite an unexpected pleasure, Mrs Middleton," he said smiling. She waved him back with a Bingle imperious gesture. There was a brief silence. The operator listened intently, * -with his head resting on his hand. Kate Middleton remained standing in the doorway, her hands clasped low, her face blanohed with dread, and all her soul absorbed in listening. Jack Spenoer slowly 'comprehending the meaning of the scene, waited, his interest growing with every moment's delay. At last it came, the monotonous click, click, conveying its portentous message in a language unknown to two of the three listeners. The operator arose from his chair. " Just in time. The train was pulling out of the station, but they stopped her." Kate Middleton clutched at the doorway, Eor the first time in her life her head gave way. She was again on the swaying sycamore, and the limb was cracking, breaking, going down. She felt the water OBher face and opened her eyes, to - find Jack SJtant-er supporting her head, and' the station agent pouring ice-cold water over her. i " She'll be all right in a minute," said Jack, cheerfully. "Now, Mrs Middleton, with your permission, I'll see you home." She borrowed a hat and cloak from the , station agent's wife. Jim brought up the horses. Jack Spencer handed her into the waggon, with grave courtesy,, and they drove off. Some of the- loungers, dimly ' nnderstandihg what she had done, looked on curiously. That was all. No fuss, no formal tributes, no speech-making even from the two who understood. There was no deputation of strong men to tender her publio tribute in voices shaken by sobs. Contrary to all tradition, and unlike any hero or heroine who ever saved a train from wreck, she was on tiie wrong Bide of the bridge, and the people most deeply ooncerned were rune x___.es astray. Neither honour nor praise awaited Kate in her own home. Bridget scolded her, and put her to bed, and declared tbat Bhe "wud surely catch her death a-cold, an' she desarved it well," and tried to save her irom the consequences of her misdeeds at the same time. * Of the children, Harry stubbornly resented her base ' desertion of them on the bank of the raging stream, and Marian, with her mother's spirit of I adventture strong upon her, terrified the household by. avowing her intention of going across' the water on a tree the first time Bhe could escape parental authority. . The mother hadher reward, nevertheless. Late that night, when the children were asleep, and Bridget had relaxed guard, Kate escaped from bed, and donning a wrapper and shawl laid herself down upon the lounge before the open fire, to enjoy scanning the daily paper. The rain fell steadily withont, so steadily that the sound of a horse's hoofs coming up the sodden driveway was scarcely distinguishable _H»n the patter of the rain drops. Kate started up aa she heard a step outaide the door; another moment, and Tom was before her, looking very solemn, like a newly n»a-yi»-ftfin?-l ghost. "Tom?" she cried, sharply, and then she aeemed to cower before him,; yet not before hjm, but the horror of the aifcernoon, which again descended upon her and took possession of her. Tom, her husband, might have been, one of that grisly throng of mangled, crushed, dead, and dying phantoms bf the might-have-been, I ever t_r_nz_n£f her mental vision. She pressed her hands over her eyes, as iMhey ZOight bar oub the sight. " Oh, yon ought not; yoa never should cLousnch a thing," she said. After all, _he had nerves, an<frthey.j3-V---been sorely tried that^ay. " What do you mean?" gravely demanded Tom. This was indeed a sorry greetings after allhe had, been through. " Yon shouldnft hawe. come homein tins unexpected way; yon shoold let people know when you are coming." "Kate," said Tom, solemnly, seating himself on/the sofa,«ad«bcawisg her down beside him, "you. will speak differently when you mow haw _xea_v I. came to not «a__iDgj_U__»';^

jwelve miles on horseback over a roiuch. mountain road to get here to-night.. "We. *-* were jost -tarting onVof Ete_cita when we, mm* notified that the bridge three mile* bdxnrlfcere— six milpsal)(we»her-vKate — hadbeeacaDfied-way/' "Bow did jpoa find ont?" Kate was herself again. T_w-e-^«»*I-fcto.-twd__kle_ bxher eyes, bofeherlip trembled. « -Ab to font?* replied Tom, '*repo_tj*isre somewhat vague. Bat all accounts: agree it was a woman. And she did? wonderful things. The bridge4ender«wife^rbeli^ve. 7P_oate>d-down ■stresnw«tt.*- : timber, s-amebody said. Started, all dripping, for the _tat__n„a_-d got there in an mxcon-cionahls ehort time. Not a^ mutate to spare. H it hadn't been for her!— oh, itiraßia'^ixHiderfaLieat, erorybodysajs^* •"Bnt how— very— mt-sdylikei" said Kate, in a shocked vt&e; stw^dngrto-pack op something fronr-Qie floor. "Unladylike !*° cried Tom, excitedly. fc l teE you, KJate, tbat waa something worth while. Very different from your lawn tennis practice. When a woman puts her strength to such a use— and sucH a Btiab aa it must have been, by Jove! Why, Kate, I doubt if you could so mucH as walk to town and back. But when a woman saves two or three hundred lives at one stro-B My goodness, Ka^ What have you been doing to your foot r _ Por Mrs Middleton had unconsciously pnshed the wounded foot into sight, and. its load of bandages, piled up^; by Bndgef sclumsy flngerß, and finished, with a red flannel swathing, waa indeed calculated to # strike terror to the beholder. " I— l took a little walk to-day,"replied Kate, guiltUy, trying to hide the toot again beneath the hem of her dress. " But don't let ns talk about that Tom. I'm sorry I seemed queer and cold when you came in. I wasn't feeling well, and yon— you looked so. It made me shiver." Like many people who are dauntless in the presence of real danger, Kate had all her life been shy of praise. If she could have kept the knowledge of her escapade, as she mentally termed ifc, from her husband, she would gladly have done it. But, stupid as he was in some ways> obtuse as he was, he was not to be put off in this way. He was already on his knees beside her, cutting threads, removing pins, and undoing cloths, in spite o£ her protests, imtilhe disclosed a little foot, purple with bruisea,and with an ugly, gaping cut in one side. "No wonder you are not yourself tonight. A. Uttle walk ! I should say so. Kate, what have you been up to now ?" " I had on my slippers," confessed the culprit, "and— there wasn't time to change therm Let it alone, Tom. It'll be all right to-morrow." * v _ ' "A 'little walk!'" persisted Tom. "Great Caesar, Kate, you are not to be trusted alone any more than a two-year-old babe. I'll never dare to go off and leave you again. "HI hadn't taken my little walk, you— you— you mightn't have had the chance !" cried poor Kate, cornered at last. "My soul ! " cried Tom, a light dawning npon him at last; "it was you." I think he kissed the little lame, braised fecit. lam afraid ie did a great many foolish things and humbled himself moat lamentably to ahow his love for his brave young wife, his pride in her, and his contrition. There was a purse made up by the passengers on the overland train that fateful day> to reward the plucky woman who had saved them from such a frightful disaster, but they were never able to find her out. The station-master and Jack Spencer kept their secret well. The only subscription that ever reached its destination was Tom Middleton's. His wife sometimes wears a very ugly bracelet aetwith a couple of very large and ponderous gold coins. When people question her about it she replies that it is a medal Tom once awarded her for a race she won. It is generally understood, that Bhe refers to some rowing match or horseback ride, for there are boats on the pond now, saddle horses in Tom's stable, and a tennis court on the lawn. But even as she answers Kate sees again the railroad train, with its precious living freight, thundering, on to destruction, and a woman, bare-headed, wild-eyed, with draggled dress and bleeding feet, racing 'desperately across ar rough country, in a | mad effort to avert the impending danger.