Christian life -- Juvenile fiction; Dinsmore, Elsie (Fictitious character) -- Juvenile fiction; Domestic fiction; Religious fiction
Elsie was not timid in regard to thunder and lightning; she knew so well
that they were entirely under the control of her Father, without whom not
a hair of her head could perish; she lay listening to the war of the
elements, thinking of the words of the Psalmist, "The clouds poured out
water: the skies sent out a sound; Thine arrows also went abroad. The
voice of Thy thunder was in the heaven; the lightnings lightened the
world, the earth trembled and shook."
But another sound startled her. Surely she heard some stealthy step on the
veranda upon which the windows of the room opened (long windows reaching
from the floor almost to the ceiling), and then a hand at work with the
fastenings of the shutters of the one farthest from the bed.
Her husband lay sleeping by her side. She half raised herself in the bed,
put her lips to his ear, and shaking him slightly, whispered, "Edward,
some one is trying to get in at the window!"
He was wide-awake in an instant, raised himself and while listening
intently took a loaded revolver from under his pillow and cocked it ready
for use.
"Lie down, darling," he whispered; "it will be safer, and should the
villain get in, this will soon settle him, I think."
"Don't kill him, if you can save yourself without," she answered, in the
same low tone and with a shudder.
"No; if I could see, I should aim for his right arm."
A moment of silent waiting, the slight sound of the burglar's tool faintly
heard amid the noise of the storm, then the shutter flew open, a man
stepped in; at that instant a vivid flash of lightning showed the three to
each other, and the men fired simultaneously.
A heavy, rolling crash of thunder followed close upon the sharp crack of
the revolvers; the robber's pistol fell with a loud thump upon the floor
and he turned and fled along the veranda, this time moving with more haste
than caution. They distinctly heard the flying footsteps.
"I must have hit him," said Mr. Travilla, "Dearest, you are not hurt?"
"No, no; but you?"
"Have escaped also, thank God," he added, with earnest solemnity.
Elsie, springing to the bell-rope, sent peal after peal resounding through
the house. "He must be pursued, if possible!" she cried; "for oh, Edward,
your life is in danger as long as he is at large. You recognized him?"
"Yes, Tom Jackson; I thought him safe in prison at the North; but probably
he has been bailed out; perhaps by one of his own gang; for so are the
ends of justice often defeated."
He was hurrying on his clothes as he spoke. Elsie had hastily donned
dressing-gown and slippers, and now struck a light.
Steps and voices were heard in the hall without, while Aunt Chloe coming
in from the other side, asked in tones tremulous with affright, "What's de
matter? what's de matter, darlin'? is you hurted?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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