The weekly Portage sentinel. [volume] (Ravenna, Ohio) 1854-1861, 1856-04-03
ain Kate, and she struggled to appear com.

tain Kate, and she struggled to appear COM
posed.
Let us 90 to Col. Watson at once,
were almost the first words of Kate on
recovering her senses. Surely he will not
refuse US. He was but lately your guest
how can he thus deny your prnyer,'
'Alus! my child replied her aunt, with
tears in her eyes, 'war converts men into
6ends, and dries up all the kindlier feel :
ings Of the soul; but especially in cival
war like this, no such thing as friendship is
acknowled ged. Have you forget the fate
of fGabriel Marion, the nephew of the Gen.
eral--youthful, beautiful, unoffeudng, the
pride of that old mans heart! He was Ia
ken In skirmish, and, as soon as recog
nized, told to make ready for death. Hi,
prayers for arespite--for paper to write to
write to his uncle--for time to make his
peace with God, we're alike deniedhim.'
But they will not, they cannot murder
my father thus. The men who did thai
were Tory outcasts. Col, Watson has o
kind heart; he ,oiR spare my fathers life.'
And Kate, clasping her hands, addressed heI
aunt supplicatingly, as if on the words she
might speak hung her parents existence.
Mrs. Blakely could not reply for some
time for weeping. Twice she essayed to
speak-twice tears choked her utterance.-
At last she shook her head mournfully. .
Say not so-you do not mean it, cried
Kate, eagerly.
Alas! alas my darling sobbed Mrs.
Blakely, clusping Kate in her arms, i would
as willingly hope as you; but there is no
hope. Was not solicitation, influence, pro-
mise, every thing exerted to save Col.
Hayne; but to no purpose. They are incx-
orable. Did not the General say, in refus-
ing pardon, that If it were his own broth
er he could do no more.'
Al these words the full truth of her fa.
theirs situation seemed for the first time to
break on Kate, who hitherto had hoped that
aid from some quarter, her own prayers, or
other influence, might save his life. During
the time Mrs. Blakely was speaking, the un-
fortunate girl gazed with stony eyes upon
her, every feature rigid. her arms motioness
and set hanging by her side, and her head
slightly advanced, with half parted lips, lis.
tenng eagerly. Even when the speaker
ceased, only vague sense of what she said
seemed to rest on Kate, and she murmured
vacantly,
mo hope !-none, did you say 2 -.
Mrs. Blakely shook her head mournfully.
Her own heartwas swelled to bursting; that
stony look, those rigid lips, made her trem-
BILE for the reason Of her niece.
mo hope |! whispered Kate. in those
thrilling low tones that are more eloquent
than all the accents Of despair. 'Oh, just
Heaven' she exclaimed, suddenly elevating
her voice; and she raised her outstretched
arms on high, wilt thou see this foul njus-
tice done =
But here the pitch of terror to which the
poor girl had been wound up, proved too
much for frame already weakened by pre-
ceding agitation, and she suddenly fell back,
rigid and paralyzed, in another fainting fit.
Allsthat day, and part Of the night, Mrs
Blakely watched over niece. Toward mid
night the sufferer sank into a slumber. On
awaking in the morning, wan and haggard,
she seemed only the shadow of her former
self; but she had gained composure; though
in her quivering lip, and the eye, that filled
unccnscjousiy with tears, might have been
read the agony of breaking heart.
But though Mrs. Biakely did not allow
herself to hope, and thought it her duty to
bid her niece discard ell expectation of the
prisoners pardon, nevertheless she resolved
to do every thing that could be done to in
duce Col. Watson to save Mr.. Mowbray's
life. or at least to grant a respite until head
quarters could be heard from. Accordingly
she spent the hours of the night, after Kate,
stupifed alike BY exhaustion and narcotics,
had sunk into slumber, in writing to Col.
Watson. She also penned hasty epistle to
Major Lindsay, beseeching his interpositon,
for though Mrs. Blakely was we'll aware of
his pretentions to the hand of her niece, she
thought this no time for morbid delicacy. =
These epistles being indited. and confided to
the hand Of a lrusty servant. with orders to
spare neither whip or spur until he reached
Col. Watson's quarters, Mrs. Blakely ,towar
morning, sought her couch, almost as much
exhausted, both physically and mentally. as
her unfortunate niece.
The morning broke in that once happy
mansion, as on house Of death. The shut
ters were half closed, as if to exclude the
light, and the servants stole noiselessly to
and fro, speaking in whispers scarcely above
their breath. The morning meal remained
almost untouched. Kate could eat nothing;
and often set down her tea-cup, while her
eyes filled with tears; Mrs. Biakely, in spite
Of oil her self.control, was nervous and
trembling, The old butler who remained in
the room, often turned his back, and brush
ed the honest tears from his eyes, for though
unwilling 70 betray his emotion. he was un.
abiesto prevent it. Even Mrs. BIakeley'sl
pet greyhound seemed to know and partici-