Her Dark Inheritance

by Mrs. E. Burke Collins

She drew the gayly colored plaid shawl that she wore closer about her shoulders to keep out the chill evening air, and she shuddered involuntarily as her eyes fell upon the ugly wrap. The girl was an artist by nature, and anything incongruous or out of harmony jarred upon her like a shock, while any unfortunate mistake in the blending of colors would send a chill through her artistic soul.

"Oh, dear! I wish my fairy prince would come!" she cried, half laughingly, "and rescue me from my unpleasant surroundings. My fairy prince! Like the princes in the story-books, he must be young, rich, and handsome; courteous and—and everything nice. He must be tall and graceful, with soft dark eyes, and hair as black as midnight; a sweet mouth, but firm and resolute, and a determined chin. I have seen a picture like that—where was it? Oh, yes; in Mrs. Lynne's photograph album. I asked her who it was, and she told me that it was no concern of mine. To be sure, it was not; but then I only asked a civil answer to a harmless question. Ah, Mrs. Lynne! you will be the death of me yet—you and your ugly daughter! Serena Lynne and I can never live as sisters. The thought of it makes me long for the coming of my Prince Charming, who will take me away to peace and happiness. I wish my own father would come for me. I wish my own mother had not died. I—I—Good gracious! what is that?"

She came to a frightened halt, gazing about her with terror-dilated eyes. A few rods before her a little river remained to be crossed—a narrow stream, but very deep and with a very rapid current. Spanning the stream was a dilapidated bridge, which had already been condemned for the use of vehicles; but still a few venturesome pedestrians trusted their lives upon its frail strength. Beatrix had crossed upon the bridge; she had fully expected to return in that way; but now, as she came to a frightened halt, the sound of a horse's feet broke the silence, and she beheld an unexpected scene. Just before her, half-way over the bridge, she saw a big black horse, and upon his back a man—a young man—a stranger in that vicinity. He was crossing the dilapidated structure without a suspicion that it was unsafe. Even as the girl's eyes fell upon the scene, crash! went the rotten timbers. There was a wild cry, a rush through space, then the thud of a falling body as man and horse struck the swift-flowing current below. The horse, once freed from its rider, swam swiftly toward the shore and reached the opposite bank, up which it scrambled and soon disappeared. Pale and trembling, the girl crept close to the river-bank, and glanced over. She could see that tall, dark form battling manfully with the waves; the river was deepest and swiftest at this point—the water ice-cold. If the swimmer was able to keep up for a time, he must soon succumb to the cold, half-frozen element. She stood transfixed with horror, her eyes riveted upon the dark figure rising and falling with the current as he strove to keep himself afloat, and made a desperate fight for life.

"Heaven have mercy!" cried the girl; "must he die there alone? Oh, what shall I do? What can I do?"

There was no one within a mile of the spot. Long before she could summon help he would have sunk to the bottom, chilled through and through. How could he long persist in his mad efforts to save himself? All at once an inspiration rushed into the girl's heart—a slim chance, but it seemed the only one. Fortunately, the stream, though so deep and swift, was not wide. Her plan seemed feasible. Removing the long, stout shawl from her shivering shoulders, she crept to the very edge of the bank and leaned over. The swimmer was nearly paralyzed from the cold, and was fast giving up; but his eyes fell upon the girl, and he saw at once what she was trying to do.

"Can you swim near enough to reach it?" she called aloud.

For answer he made one more desperate effort; then she saw for the first time that he had been injured in some way by the falling timbers—one of his limbs seemed nearly useless. But with superhuman efforts he strove to swim within reach of that bright colored banner streaming out upon the water. A little nearer—a little nearer! He was faint and chilled to the bone.

She leaned far over the brink of the stream, her teeth set hard together, her eyes flashing with resolution.

"Try!" she cried once more in her clear, cheery voice. "Don't give up yet. Try—try hard!"