The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1875-09-02

he got no relations of friends here what
could go and say whether it's him."
"There are some friends of his here, "
said some one, hesitatingly.
And then there was pause. Paul's
voice broke it. He leaned forward and
spoke clearly:
"Bring the man here, if you please
We are Mr.. Dunwardin's friends, and we
want to hear all about the matter"
The man was brought, and told his
story again. The body he said was lying
at his (the speaker's) house on the banks
of the Laurel, not very far from where
that river empties into the French Broad.
All he wanted was that some one should
come and identify it. "The kurroner's
there" he said. "He'll tend to everything
else. All you've got to say is whether
or not it's him."
Those around looked at each other
What could be said? Who could go?
1t was clearly impossible for Paul to do
so. The Journey down the French Broad
would be terrible, the journey up the
Laurel much worse, to one like him. He
felt this not less clearly than the others,
and put his hand to his face with a low
groan. eff I were but man" he
said.
"Don't trouble, Mr.. Chalmers, over
what can't be helped" said his host
kindly. "I'll go. It's my duty to do
So"
Louise turned quickly and spoke for
the first time.
"I thought you would CO." she said /;
"and you'll take me with you-wlll you
not ?"
There's no need for that" he began,
when she interrupted him.
eyes there is need. 1t is all we can
do for him, and he-ab, he did so much
for Paul and me! I must go Don't
say anything to dissuade me-only tell
me when to be ready"
"We'd best start as soon after daylight
as we kim" said the man standing by.
Very soon after daylight the next
morning Louise bent over Paul and kiss
ed him a tender goodbye. He took both
her hands and held them together.
"Keep heart" he said. "1t may be all
mistake. 1t may not be what we fear.
don't think he is the kind of man to be
accidentally drowned"
"But he may have been robbed, and
murdered" said Louise. "Paul, feel
sure that it is he and oh, my dear ''-
and the great tears began to roll down
81 am so sorry that the only return ever
made for all his kindness was-was to
give him pain"
"Nevcr mind" said Paul, gently
"You did what you thought right, and he
knew it."
Zone often makes great mistakes about
what is right" said Louise. Then she
drew down her veil and departed.
They travelled rapidly, and at last they
reached the the home of their guide-a
substantial log farmhouse situated in
valley, where the mountains receded n
little from the banks of the river. AS
they came in sight they perceived that it
was evidently the scene of commotion
and excitement. Horses were fastened
to the fence, and under the trees men
were lounging here and there group
of women stood gossiping at the door.
Louise turned so faint-that deathly
faintness which comes only from the
heart-that everything grew black before
her. She clutched her companions
arm.
"Please take me at once," she said.-
"I cannot bear this suspense much long
err"
So they went in at once-stopping to
hear nothing, putting aside those who
would fain have spoken.
"Only show us where the body is"
said Lousc's companion. ''That is all we
ask"
Some one led the way, and pushed
open the door of a lean-to room. They
entered and the sick horror seized Louise
again as she saw the outlines of rigid
figure extended on bed, covered with
course sheet. But she was resolutely de-
termned that she would not fail until
all was over-until she knew. She held
herself, therefore, in powerful con-
straint, and walked steadily forward. As
she lifted the thick veil which she wore,
4 man who was standing by the bed
turned quickly around. For one breath
less moment they faced each other
What was this? Had the dead risen?
If so, the dead could speak, for this man
cried:
'Louise for Heavens sake what has
brought you here ?"
Poor Louise! The revulsion was too
great. All her selfcontrol gave way
Suddenly, and she fell forward fainting
in George Dunwardin's arms.
When she recoved it was to hc;,I L story
which can be more briefly related than it
was told by Dunwardin of the banks OF
the Laurel. In his mining expeditions
he had been led farther into the noun
tains than he had anticipated, but had
been abundantly rewarded for hardships
and delays by finding all-and more than
all-of which he was in search. On his
way back to Alcxander's he had been
stopped by news of the drowned body
supposed to be his own-lying within
this farmhouse. He identified it at
once rs that of Methodist preacher
whom he had met the week before among
the mountains, and who had been, no
doubt, accidentally drowned in attempt
ING to cross the swollen stream.
"If had travelled faster, if had been
day earlier, 1 might have spared you
all this" he said, rcmorscfully, in end
ing his story.
But Louise laid her hand on his.
"Don't regret your delay" she said, in
her sweet voice. "No doubt it was best.
have suffered terribly, but if this suf-
ferng had not come, might never have
learned how much love YOU"
And so, to this day, Dunwardin says