The weekly north Iowa times. [volume] (McGregor, Iowa) 1857-1867, 1862-10-29
WHOLE NO. 3l5.
All this time, while danger seemed TO

g All this time, while danger seemed tc
| touch Richard keenc, she had present.
| ment that his hour Of doom was coming
She never spoke of this to Emily, and the
child, lulled to a sense Of security by his
{ past immunity from harm, was growing tc
think of him cheerfully. His letters came
often, written in good spirits, addressed al.
ways to his sister, but never without some
cordial, reverent, almost tender mention of
her who sent him forth to fight the great
fight in her stead. Still the subtle sense
which foretells coming danger haunted
Miss Barclay like a phantom. She could
not lull it.
A day came at last when she opened the
paper feeling what its contents were before
she saw them. She read there that Rich
ard keene was dead The Federals had
been repulsed. leaving their dead, Of whom
he was one, for the eiIemy to bury.
She read the tidings calmly. She knew
he died as he would have wished, for she
recalled his parting words Her soldier
was gone-her stake in the war. Her
hope of success seemed to have died witt,
HIM. She scarcely knew that she felt at
all; only the cold dull! ache that made her
clasp her hand tight to her heart reminded
her. She said to herself, still calmly ~
must go to Emily and tell her that i sent
her brother to his DEATH"
She put on her things, and wondered
vaguely that she did not weep as she saw
her own still, composed face in the glass.
Emily came to her, in the same room,
the front parlor at school, where they had
met at frst-came in joyful with welcome,
but started back appalled, by the white,
still face she met. Miss Barclay went up
to her and said drearily Emily, I am ali
you have, now. He is gone -
The girl to whom the Ill news came with
such fell suddenness burst into a passion
of grief; then, trying to comfort her, her
friend wept also, and the tears were now
strange solace. She took Emily home
with her-her sister from hen ,eforth. She
might go back to school another year, per-
haps at present they had need of each
| other.
How dreary the months were which fol.
lowed! Emily was the first to learn rcSig.
nation for the loss Of her dead, who died
50 gorlously. Kate was haunted forever
as ne had feared she would be, by the idea
| that she had sent him to his death: and
not even the memory Of his own assuran-
| ces, those generous last words of his could
give her comfort.
The summer came-the summer of 1862
bringing birdsong and blossom. The
lonely salt scented sea-breeze ripplcd the
waves, and shook the pine trees into melo
dy. From alar Miss Barclay seemed to
eaten SCENT and sound. 1t reused her to
wish to tread the side rocks, and press
her careless footsteps in the white sands Of
the beach. They went to pleasant, qui-
ct nook, which, as yet, not enough people
had found to spoil. And there the roses
began to come slowly back to Miss Bar
ciay's check, and the light in her eyes,
She might grow cheerful again in time, she
thought, if only her fancy would cease to
picture one awful scene-a battle field,
where the setting sun searched with his red
gleams for the slain, and found one face a
tace she knew, with clear, honest eyes, and
mouth that would never smile more. Did
they wound him-mutilate him after he
was dead? She had heard such things
she wished she could forget them.
Walking alone one day she heard on the
path behind her, voices Emily's and an
other. She turned Suddenly. Were her
senses dazed? Did she dream? Do the
dead walk? She saw face over which
Southern turf must have grown long ago,
unless it bleachcd white, unburried. on the
ghastly battle, field. Sight and sense failed
her. For the first time in her life she faint
ed. When she recovered she saw only Elm.
lily. The child spoke eagerly:
1T was my brother, alive, himself. lie
was wounded, not dead. They took him
prisoner, and last week he was exchanged
When he came to New York he found we
were here, and followed u.s."
She had poured the words into Kate's
ear with might and main, bent on making
her understand the truth lest she might
faint again. But such ewoons do not hap.
pen twice in one day. Miss Barclay com
pretended all now, and was herself again:
ready, with courteous greeting, for him |
who came down the path-,the returned
warrior, with scars scanning his broad brow |
and showing how near he had come to tn. |
fate she had feared.
He had a forloush to Get well in he said
and then he was going back.
vi course he staid with them there at
Sea view tor while, and Of course they
nursca and petted him as women always
DO their returned braves. 1t was strange
how soon all the sadness went out of Kate's
hcart-the melancholy out of her manner.
One day he said to her:
"fou are too kind to me-"
II do not feel as if could be-" she an.
swered, "when remember what YOU have
suffered and who sent you forth to fight"
lie did not speak again for moment,
md then he asked a strange question:
Miss Barclay, what should you think
,f man, an honest man, who loved wo
man dearly, but did not ask her to marry
HIM because she was rich and he was poor,
md be knew the world would brand him !
ortune hunter? 49,. -....-."
Miss Barclay blushcd, but she answered
,ravely:
II should think poorly of mans cour u.
ge whom the worlds opinion could sway ,
n the most sacred matters of his heart and .
lis life; and if he believed the lady would >
yer remember Oh which side the fortune !.
'as, should wonder at him for thinking :
er worthy of his love" !
His eyes-those honest, earnest eyes !.
'oked at her with something in their own :,
lance which thrilled her heart witha very u
trange, now, timid joy. He only said: >
Kate, you know love YOU When
ght again you will pray for me at home?
hose soldier shall be?'' g
| think her look told him before her -
ords did, but he bent tenderly to hear the a
lswer: L
''Mine ~ 4
N- He that has energy enough in his
n - mi tn