Monmouth weekly herald. [volume] (Freehold, N.J.) 1854-1860, 1858-04-15
familp Gutlt.
THE VOLUNTEER.
BY GEORGE L. AIKEN.

e~ndeayoring to snatch q short repose to
| prepare me for the assault which was to
take place at day break.
The attempt was useless; slumser gave
| the cold shoulder" and found myself
| wide awake, i~ntently observing my cap
tain, who occupied the other side of the
fire. :
He was sitting on an old box, wrapped
in his cloak, and gazing among the
smouldering embers with an expression
of countenanee so intensely mournful that
my sympathy was at once irreslstaoly
drawn towards him.
His face was of ashy %paleness, contrast
ING strongly with his jetty hair and eyes.
His heard had. been suffered to grow for
a week unchecked by the edge OF a razor,
and its exuberance increased his haggard
look.
CAPTAIN Archer was a mystery to the
whole regiment. Young, finely formed,
endowed by nature with o face OF classic
beauty. he seemed born to enjoy every
happiness: vet a constant, sad melancholy
prevailed by the remembrance OF some
never.to-b be forgotten grief. he mace no
ione companion-studiously avoided all
intercourse with his brother oficers-sel
dom smoke. unless it was on duty. The
life he led was one OF extreme lnsola-
ton.
Notwithstanding the solitary habits of
Archer, he was respected by all his broth
er officers, for he was brave to %rashness
on the battle field, and treated all who
approached him with q gentle manly
courtesy.
Being the first Lieutenant, | was slight
lv exempted from the formal manner he
adopted towards others, our duty bring
inc us in constant contact | never had
intrudcd upon his sorrow with my ex-
quisite questioning; he felt and appre,
ciated the delieacy, and though ne spoke
not his thanks, his eyes expressed them.
Having secured his good opinion, was
careful enough to retain it.
Having nothing better to do, lay with
nv eyes riveted upon his face, while my
Imagination ran riot in speculation over
his history.
As gazed, q deep sigh issued from his
Inns. and aroused him from his abstfac-
ton. Our eyes met; he studied my conn,
~tenance for a moment, as if intent on
reading my thoughts. He seemed salts
| fed with the security, for he said lmmedi-
ately with a constant tinge OF melancholy
which ever accompanied his voice
"You are not asleep, Lieut.. George? q
enc, Captain"
What prevents you from sleeping
anxiety for the morrow 2"
POSSIBLY that may be one of the eau.
ses,' I replied"
"a dangerous duty is assigned our
regiment"
Might | inquire what it isl"
Certainly. Do you see yonder tall
building looming above the heights Of
Monterey, through the darkness ?"
"You mean the Bishops CastleW
Yes; that is to be our place of attack.
We storm it at daybreak."
"Iti a dangerous undertaking."
"True. L~ieutenant-we have the honor
of being selected for a "%forlorn hope.'
You understand the term; we shall march
to almost certain death-we shall find
a grave beneath those walls. shall at
least meet the death | have SO often
sought in vain"
Sought, Captain ?" | repeated in as
constituent, gazing in his face, which wore
a look of calm resignation.
You are surprised that | should wish
to die" he continued in the same mourn
full strain. 1t excites your wonder that
one so Young as | am-for | am twenty
fve-should have grown weary OF life
All my friend, the heart may grow aged
in a day, and when such is the case, the
young frame that enshrines it cannot
reconcile it 10 the world
You have met with some bitter dis
appointment I suggested, " which long
brooding over has tainted your mind.
Danish il from your recollection. Hap,
1piness is yet within your reach If you
but strive to obtain it,
"Alasl my friend" he cried, you
know not what I have lost. You would
fam administer comfort to me, but you
know not the extent of the wound you
would probe. | feel that tomorrow will
bring the crisis of my fate. We can nei-
ther of us sleep; if you will have patience
to listen | viii recount to you, and if
You ever return to my native soil, you
can tell my friends my story and fate"
l expressed my willingness to listen,
and Archer proceeded OF once.
II am a native of Boston; my profes
sion is that of a lawyer, yet I had no
necessity to practice it, for | was left an
orphan at twenty, with an ample for
tame.
II did not fall into the course of dis.
sipation common to young men left their
own master at an early age. Reared in
the path Of honor and integrity.by a wise
father | remembered and treasured his
counsels long after the lips that uttered
them were crumbling into dust.
"The old lawyer, under whom | stud
led, had a neicc. She was the heiress of
a fine estate, which was u~njustly withheld
from her by a male relative. He uncle
had given her a house, and instituted a
suit TO recover her property.
Della Hallst was seventeen when |
first beheld her sex. [ will not attempt
to describe the charms which made me
her slave; suffice to say, loved her with
my whole being.
I sought every opportunity of secur-
ing her society, and our acquaintance
soon ripeued into intimacy. Ny love was
told aud accepted. Della promised to
be my wife on one condition; and that
was, If she gained her lawsuit, as her
fortune would then nearly equal my own.