Helen and Arthur; or, Miss Thusa's Spinning WheelHentz, Caroline Lee
General
Helen and Arthur; or, Miss Thusa's Spinning Wheel
Hentz, Caroline Lee
Fiction
The distance was not great, and they walked with rapid footsteps over
the crisp and frozen ground. Around the cabin, the snow formed a thick
carpet, which, lying in shade, had not been glazed, like the general
surface of the landscape. Their steps did not resound on this white
covering, and instead of crossing the stile in front of the cabin, they
vaulted over the fence and approached the door by a side path. The
moment Arthur laid his hand upon the latch he knew some one had entered
the house during his absence, for he had closed the door, and now it was
ajar. With one bound he cleared the passage, and Mr. Mason, who was a
tall and strong man, was not left much in the rear. The inner door was
not latched, and opened at the touch. The current of air which rushed in
with their sudden entrance rolled into the chimney, and the fire flashed
up and roared, illuminating every object within. Near the centre of the
room stood a man, wrapped in a dark cloak that completely concealed his
figure, a dark mask covering his face, and a fur cap pulled deep over
his forehead. He stood by the side of Miss Thusa's wheel, which
presented the appearance of a ruin, with its brazen bands wrenched
asunder, and its fragments strewed upon the floor. He was evidently
arrested in the act of destruction, for one hand grasped the distaff,
the other clinched something which he sought to conceal in the folds of
his cloak.
Miss Thusa, partly raised on her elbow, which shook and trembled from
the weight it supported, was gazing with impotent despair on her
dismembered wheel. A dim fire quivered in her sunken eyes, and her
sharpened and prominent features were made still more ghastly by the
opaque frame-work of white linen that surrounded them. She was uttering
faint and broken ejaculations.
"Monster--robber!--my treasure! Take the gold--take it, but spare my
wheel! Poor Helen! I gave it to her! Poor child! It's she you are
robbing, not me! Oh, my God! my heart-strings are breaking! My wheel,
that I loved like a human being! Lord, Lord, have mercy upon me!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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