THE FRESHET.
The spring came; and Maud's wedding day was so near that she and Daisy went to the town every week to make purchases.
Now, the river which they were obliged to cross always overflowed its banks in spring. Although, in summer, Daisy had often walked across it, by stepping from stone to stone in the rough bed, it had risen now to a height of many feet.
Then, blocks of ice came down from the mountain streams above, and swept along bridges, and hay ricks, and drift wood with them, just as happened once, you may remember, when Susan was alive.
A new bridge had been built; but it jarred frightfully when the heaped blocks of ice came down, or some great tree was dashed against it by the rapid stream.
Things were in this state when the two sisters reached home, one day, from town. When Maud felt how the bridge jarred, she ran back screaming, and told Daisy to go first, and make sure it was safe.
Daisy was not a coward; but this time she did think of her own life for once, or rather of Joseph—how he would grieve if she were swept away and drowned.
Her heart beat faster than usual; yet she walked on calmly, and soon gained the other side. Then she called back for Maud to wait till she could find Joseph, and secure his help.
But Maud, always impatient, grew tired of waiting, and mustering all her courage, stepped upon the bridge alone.
She had hardly reached the centre when its foundations gave way; and, with a great crash and whirl, with the trees, and ice, and drift wood whirling after it, the bridge went sweeping down the stream.
So Joseph and Daisy returned only in time to hear Maud's shrieks, which sounded louder than the heavy, jolting logs, and creaking beams, and grinding ice.
Running across the bridge wildly, she beckoned for Joseph to come to her—implored him to trust himself upon the blocks of ice, or else send Daisy, and not leave her to perish alone.
There came new drifts of ice from above, jolting against the bridge, and throwing Maud from her feet; and so the heavy structure went whirling, tossing like a straw upon the stream.
Joseph turned to Daisy. "If I go to her help, we both may slip from the unsteady blocks of ice, and drown. Yet I may possibly save her; shall I go or stay?"
"Go," she said instantly.
"Then good by, Daisy; perhaps we never shall look in each other's faces again."
"What's that?" asked the sharp voice of the dame. "Foolish children! Don't you know that, when Maud is drowned, there will be no one to separate you, and, as long as she lives, she will not let you be married?"
"She is my sister," said Daisy. And Joseph, stepping boldly upon the ice, creeping from log to log,—lost now in the branches of a tree, dashed into the water, and struggling out again,—found his way to the bridge, and threw his strong arm about the form of the fainting Maud.
But here was new trouble; for she declared that she would never venture where Joseph had been, not if they both were swept away.
Finding her so unreasonable, the herdsman took Maud, like an infant, in his arms, and, though she shrieked and struggled, stepped from the bridge just as its straining beams parted, and fell, one by one, among the drift wood in the stream.
When Maud stood safely on the shore, she was so glad to find herself alive, that she took off every one of her jewels and offered them to Joseph.
But the herdsman told her that he did not wish to be paid for what had cost him nothing, and had he lost his life, the jewels would have been no recompense.
"So you want more, perhaps," said Maud, the haughty look coming again into her handsome face. "Well, what shall I give you for risking your precious life?"
"Daisy," he answered.
"My sister? Do you dare tell me that she would marry a cowboy?"
"Ask her."
"Yes," said Daisy.
"Nonsense! you will live with me, Daisy, in my new great house; and if you marry at all, it will be some rich, elegant man, so that you can entertain us when I and my husband wish to visit you."
"I shall marry Joseph or no one," Daisy answered firmly.
"Well, then, Joseph, cross the river on the ice once more, and Daisy shall be your wife." Maud thought she had found a way to rid herself of the troublesome herdsman; for it seemed to her the dreadful voyage could not be made again in safety; and then she half believed that Joseph would sooner give up Daisy than try.
But, without a word, he darted upon the ice—slipped, as at first; and when Daisy saw him struggling, she flew to his help—slipped where he slipped: a tree came sailing down, and struck them both. Maud saw no more.
But, all the way home, she heard in her ears the shrill voice of the fairy, saying, "I hope you are satisfied, now you have killed them both."