Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1878-05-02

"Was," echoed Mary, turning pale; "yor
don't mean"
II don't know truly whether he's alive OF
dead" said the young soldier; "he was wound
ed the same time was, and it was rumoreo
that his wound was mortal; but I never
heard anything positive. They brought mt
of. and 1 stayed in the hospital awhile, ano
then came home"
Mary sat like one stunned. For moment
she was incapable of speech. The young
man repeated his former question, in sym
pathetic tone.
"Did you know him, Miss?" Was he 6
friend of yours2"
"Yes," faltered Mary, "a very dear friend
I have heard nothing from him for weeks
feared something had happened"
"But James," said the old lady, "you don,
know for certain that he's dead. You saio
just now that you wern't positive about it
you recollects ?"
"Of, course, mother, I'm not positive al
all. One hears all manuer of reports just af;
ter battle, and I'm sure I would have beer
more cautious how I spoke, if I'd known you
we're any way concerned about him, Miss,
he added, apologetically, to Mary.
"Never mind that / want to hear every
thing that you know" replied the latter, con
trolling her agitation by an effort, for she
was unwilling to betray to strangers all thai
she felt, or how painfully deep was her inter
est in the subject in question.
"It's not much that I do know, only what
I told you just now. They told me he
was wounded-shot from his horse by rifle
ball, and one fellow said it was likely he
would not recover. Another afterwards said
the Colonel had been carried off the field
and was alive then, but very weak from lost
of blood. I was suffering great agony myself
and thought my foot would have to be
amputated, and could hardly think about any
thing else, just then. Afterward, when l made
fresh inquiry, could learn nothing positive,
as said before. The last report heard was
that lot of wounded, among others, bad fall
en- into the the enemy's hands !; but nobody
knew whether he was among them or not"
"But how strange it seems-how dreadful
that nothing certain should be known? said
Mary. Il thought that after day or two
at all events, all the casualties we're reported.
"Well, the list comes out, of course; but
still there's many things happen that are moi
known, for ever so long afterwards, sometimes
never. Many a poor fellow is killed and
buried, and no one hears of his fate; though
of course, with officers it ought to be different
and generally is. got letter, too, couple
of weeks since, from one of my comrades In
the army, but he didn't mention the Colonel
hope and trust, Miss, for your sake and ev'
erybody's else, that he'll turn up all right, at
last"
Mary was too sick at heart to respond tc
the wish. She felt dizzy and stunned, and
longed to get away from these people, to be
alone, that she might think. A wild scheme
of journeying of alone, at once, to Virginia
to seek among the hospitals there, for the
missed and mourned; to learn, if possible, BY
personal effort, the tidings which she could oh
tain in no other way, flashed across her brain
1t seemed to her as though she must lose hel
senses if forced to remain here, inactive, ir
this solitary place, with only strangers around
her. Oh if the Olives had only stayed ir
town! And yet, in that case, perhaps, she
would have heard nothing whatever of sht
Colonel's fate. All would have continued
blank uncertainty and suspense.
The friendly people of the cottage, seeing
her pale aud stricken looks, tried to cheel
her with kind words and consoling sugges
tions. She answered them family, but bel
thoughts were far away. At last the rail-
ceased, and the clouds dispersed. She put or
her shoes and wraps, thankful to be able a
last to escape, and expressing her gratitude
to her entertainers for their timely hospitality
she set out on her homeward way. When sh'
reached the hotel, she found the Olives full
of anxiety about her; but she answered thei
inquiries in as few words as possible, ane
slipped off to her own room. After she hae
been shut up there for about an hour, sht
heard gentle knock at the door. 1t wa
Mrs. Give, who had come to satisfy hersel
that she was experiencing no i'll effects from
her wetting.
81 was afraid you might be feeling i'll, my
dear. Are you sure you did not get chill
from your exposure to the storm? How
very white you look; and your hands arr
cold, too know you must have chill"
"No," Mary said, II have no chill" Ther
she suddenly broke down, and burst into
food of tears. She could not resist Mrs
Gives kind, motherly sympathy, and in bro
en- words, she poured out the story of her trou
BILE. The good lady tried to comfort her; bu
it was case in which it was difficult to i'm
part comfort. She acknowledged that it wa
very sad, very terrible, but suggested that
perhaps, Mr.. Give would hear something
more definite soon, and would write then
word. She had not known before of Mary
engagement but in these moments of conf
dence the secret came out, and her sympathy
and compassion we're doubly enlisted by th
discovery. Twenty years of matrmony hae
not destroyed all the romance in her nature
and the love-tale was for her as full OF inter
est as if she had been young maiden o
sixteen. Nothing but the need Mary felt, il
her loneliness, of sympathy and support
would have So broken through her usual retl
cence. But she could have found no NOR
sympathetic listener than her present one
and nr;de and reserve gave way before he