Danger | Page 3

blast of wind drove the fine sand-like
snow against the windows, and then went shrieking and roaring away
over housetops, gables and chimneys.
"Oh what a dreadful night!" said the lady, leaning forward in her chair
and listening to the wild wail of the storm, while a look of anxiety,
mingled with dread, swept across her face. "If Archie were only at
home!"
"Don't trouble yourself about Archie. He'll be here soon. You are not
yourself to-night, Fanny."

"Perhaps not; but I can't help it. I feel such an awful weight here;" and
Mrs. Voss drew her hands against her bosom.
"All nervous," said her husband. "Come! You must go to bed."
"It will be of no use, Wilmer," returned the lady. "I will be worse in bed
than sitting up. You don't know what a strange feeling has come over
me. Oh, Archie, if you were only at home! Hark! What was that?"
The pale face grew paler as Mrs. Voss bent forward in a listening
attitude.
"Only the wind," answered her husband, betraying some impatience.
"A thousand strange sounds are on the air in a night like this. You must
compose yourself, Fanny, or the worst consequences may follow."
"It's impossible, husband. I cannot rest until I have my son safe and
sound at home again. Dear, dear boy!"
Mr. Voss urged no further. The shadow of fear which had come down
upon his wife began to creep over his heart and fill it with a vague
concern. And now a thought flashed into his mind that he would not
have uttered for the world; but from that moment peace fled, and
anxiety for his son grew into alarm as the time wore on and the boy did
not come home.
"Oh, my husband," cried Mrs. Voss, starting from her chair, and
clasping her hands as she threw them upward, "I cannot bear this much
longer. Hark! That was his voice! _'Mother!' 'Mother!'_ Don't you hear
it?"
Her face was white as the snow without, her eyes wild and eager, her
lips apart, her head bent forward.
A shuddering chill crept along the nerves of Mr. Voss.
"Go, go quickly! Run! He may have fallen at the door!"
Ere the last sentence was finished Mr. Voss was halfway down stairs. A

blinding dash of snow came swirling into his face as he opened the
street door. It was some moments before he could see with any
distinctness. No human form was visible, and the lamp just in front of
his house shone down upon a trackless bed of snow many inches in
depth. No, Archie was not there. The cry had come to the mother's
inward ear in the moment when her boy went plunging down into the
engulfing river and heart and thought turned in his mortal agony to the
one nearest and dearest in all the earth.
When Mr. Voss came back into the house after his fruitless errand, he
found his wife standing in the hall, only a few feet back from the
vestibule, her face whiter, if that were possible, and her eyes wilder
than before. Catching her in his arms, he ran with her up stairs, but
before he had reached their chamber her light form lay nerveless and
unconscious against his breast.
Doctor Hillhouse, the old family physician, called up in the middle of
that stormy night, hesitated to obey the summons, and sent his assistant
with word that he would be round early in the morning if needed.
Doctor Angier, the assistant, was a young physician of fine ability and
great promise. Handsome in person, agreeable in manner and
thoroughly in love with his profession, he was rapidly coming into
favor with many of the old doctor's patients, the larger portion of whom
belonged to wealthy and fashionable circles. Himself a member of one
of the older families, and connected, both on his father's and mother's
side, with eminent personages as well in his native city as in the State,
Doctor Angier was naturally drawn into social life, which, spite of his
increasing professional duties, he found time to enjoy.
It was past two o'clock when Doctor Angier made his appearance, his
garments white with snow and his dark beard crusted with tiny icicles.
He found Mrs. Voss lying in swoon so deep that, but for the faintest
perceptible heart-beat, he would have thought her dead. Watching the
young physician closely as he stood by the bedside of his wife, Mr.
Voss was quick to perceive something unusual in his manner. The
professional poise and coolness for which he was noted were gone, and
he showed a degree of excitement and uncertainty that alarmed the

anxious husband. What was its meaning? Did it indicate apprehension
for the condition of his patient, or--something else? A