The enquirer southerner., 1874-06-19
THE
gnqnirtr- -SSOntberner. s .
THE FATE OF THE SPY.

n OAihOuS ellSHSN 'SlSh0N O'Ci
Sebastopol. Not a gun or a
screetching she'll disturbed the pain
full silence, which, to imaginative
minds, produced feeling of uneas~
mess and awe, I, only a captSin,
was on outpost duty, with revol~
yer in hand, ready for any emergen-
cy. Cautioning my men to report
the most trivial stir that might catch
their ears, l ordered them to lie
down under cover of some thorny
shrubs.
After some time | was in the act
of rising from my concealed posi-
ton, when muffled footstep caught
my ear. | knew not why, but the
blood rushed impetuously through
my veins. Glancing over my
shoulder, the figure of a man rose
mysteriously before me- He was
muffled to the chin; over lis shoul>
der was white something, which.
in my hurried glance, | took to be
the skin of some animal. Evident,
ly whoever this parsonage was he
had not discovered me. His steps
were bent toward Sebastopol.
Lord above I mentally gasped.
what if this wretch should be one
of those systematic spies, which are
to be found in all armies.
My forefnger instinctively sought
the trigger of my revolver. One
course L was determined upon, at
all hazards, this mysterious figure
should not escape me. On it came
gliding, SO to say, more like the
movement of a serpent than a man.
Showing as it was, and with the
shadows of night falling fast and
thick, there was something which
struck me that | had seen this
ghost>like parsonage before. But
where? That was a question that
at that moment was most difficult to
solve. Gradually I rose from be-
hind thorny shrub, and confronted
the intruder with my revolver.
who comes there?' said |, en~
ergetically.
A percept:ble stare warned me
that at last [ confronted a spy.
Move hairs breatdth, said !,
: and you are a dead man.
There was a sudden gleam Of dull
moonlight, and in my turn starts
ed. The face, though partially con-
cealed, was familiar.
Great heavens = | exclaimed,
Brown of ours.
Ere l could rightly recover, the
figure glided past me. L fired, and
call loudly upon the outposts to
shoot him down.
Crack !! crack went the rifles.
Escaped u.s. [ muttered, grind
ing my teeth.
And gone right into Sebastopol,
growled the sergeant.
Listen, said l. For Russian
sentinel that moment demanded a
field cry or password. In vain We
stretched our ears to catch a reply;
naught but the icy wind Knocked US.
| returned to my hiding place full
Of thoughts, full of suspicious.
Gould it be possible l asked
'that the figure was Lieu
tenant Brown They were GER
tainly the bushy whiskers, the full
diabolical face and the thick figure.
Lieutenant Brown, as 1 knew we'll,
was no favortie in ours. He went
by the cognomen of foreigner yet
he distinctly avowed that he was
English to the backbone.
Remembered then that Licuten,
ant Brown was clever at sketching
l also had seen him take notes.
which I playfully alluded to at the
time, and in response he informed
meat dear relatives request
he kept diary. It was certainly
strange. A multiplicity of little
occurrences rose up before me re-
specting our foreigner. His absorb
ing interest respecting any intended
attack. His studious silence before
others respecting the disasters o
the Russians, and when in my hut,
his eager inquiries as to how, ant
why, and the wherefore of ever,
trivial detail which occurred in the
camp.
The commanders of the Englisl
and the French forces never right,
caught the Russians asleep; in sor
ties, in open attacks, they were al
ways seemingly prepared. Thi
was notifying. Certainly som
of our men had deserted to tn
enemy, but this soon died out, ow
ing to the cruel treatment whic1
awaited them. That there was
spy, who could pass the English an
French lines ad libitum, | did no
for an instant doubt. f...
AT all events, said l, half loud
'if it be this foreigner he mast re
turn, and the bare thought was in
tensely delicious.
There hoarsely shouted one {
the outlying pickets, as he brough
down his rife to the charge
sStand! The password
This challenge sent the bloc
galloping madly through me. No
for the mystery thought I, an
my finger pressed determinedly O
the trigger of my revolver, as
crept up from whence the SCUM
proceeded.