The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1880-07-28
A MANS FRIENDSHIP.

"Your friend, Mr.. Clltte, IS certainly
a model of devotion, Lawrence" re-
marked pretty Claire Morrison, half
icalously, as she looked a little con-
temptuously after the lazy, ,loose-j jointed,
but not altogether unattractive figure
lounging contentedly off into the dis
tance. "He certainly has constituted
himself your shadow, though I wonder
that he never discovered how exceed
inglv de trop he is occasionally"
"Nonsense, dear" replied Captain
Lawrence Stanley, smiling fondl y down
upon the sweet, pouting face so
near his own. Il can't have you quar-
rel with dear old Gerald, for, as you
say, he is devotion itself. l happened,
years ago, to fish his little sister out OF
q lake when she was drowning. She
has since died, and Gerald seems to con-
slider his debt of gratitude boundless.
He seems to be almost alone in the
word as regards family. He has step
father, but his mother died several
years ago, and he had no brothers nor
sisters excepting the one l just spoke
of, and half.sister, scarcely more than
an infant when she strayed away one
day from her home close to the sea, and
is supposed to have been drowned. l
think his friendship for me would bear
any test, and / verify believe he would
not hesitate to give his life for me-"
Il have often heard of the strength
and unselishnessof some mems attach
ments," answered Claire. thoughtfully;
"but surely your friend does not be.
long to this class. He is too lazy, and
awkward, and stupid to be capable of
self-sacriice, or sentiment Of any kind"
"Yes," said Lawrence, slowly. he
is dull, and slow, and stupid; but
still"
"But still we can find something
more interesting to talk Of, ." interrupted
Claire, ctaxingly, drawing little
closer to her lover, and he did not con-
tradict her.
The scene of our story is laid far
away amid the lakes and plains of New
Zealand, where, at the time we write,
war was waging between the British
and the copper colored Maoris, and
among all her majesty's servants fight
ing for the mother country in this far
away land were no braver officers than
Lawrence Stanley ard his stanch
friend, Gerald Cliffe. They were sta
toned at the small town of Timaru
lust then almost the center Of theiirregu
jar sort of warfare waging between
civilization and barbarism-a position
of some danger, not at all suitable for
ladies, as Captain Stanley vainly re-
presented almost daily to his mother,
who had a year before followed her son
from England and was staying in
Timaru. having with her, as a guest,
Claire Morrison, the dsughter of
brother officer of Lawrence's, to whose
destinations that young man had fallen
willing victim some months before,
and the wedding day was drawing very
near.
The time when our story opens a
tribe OF Maoris was encamped within
three miles of Timaru, and for several
days petty skirmishing had been car
ried on between the two forces without
any apparent result.
Early in the afternoon Gerald Cliffe
was alone in the small parlor belonging
to the apartments reserved for the use
of Mrs. Stanley and Miss Morrison in
the only inn which Timaru afforded
waiting the return of Lawrence, who
had been sent out some hours before in
charge of a accommodating party.
Gerald's vigil had been long cne,
and he had consulted his watch many
times rather uneasily, when at last the
door was thrown open, and Lawrence,
haggard. trembling, with bloodshot
eyes, staggered over to his amazed
friend.
"Ttank God, you are alone!" he
nsoo,,lofoI ~ q hnllnyxy pnia0 hn canH
into chair. "Gerald, old boy, it's all
up with me. One of those accursed
coppersSins has hit me with poisoned
arrow, and that, you know, is certain
death-and such death! On, my poor
Claire!"
The young man broke off with some
thing that sounded like a sob, while
Gerald, who well realized the hopeless
ness OF such wound-against the
poison of which the most ski!lful ply
sician had never discovered an antidole
IS if turned to stone, stared with hor-
rDr at the unfortunate man, in whose
veins the poison would so soon begin its
deadly work; and neither of them heard
the low, despairing moan from the next
-oom.
The two men were still sitting in
blank silence. Gerald convulsively
squeezing his friends 1and-for wha,
could be said in the face of such s
calamity?-when a commotion was
heard in the hall, followed by sort O
fumbling at the door, which was th'
next moment opened to admit two
blanketed red.skinnsd Maoris, usherec
by the landlord, who retired after ex
planning that the visitors had just COM
rom the cneny's camp under . flag o
truce, with an important message TO
Captain Stanley.
"Well, what do you want. you CURSE
dirty rascals?" growled Gerald. i'm
patiently, for the men seemed in n
haste TO transact their business, merel
staring curiously about the room whlcl
seemed TO afford them intenss amuse
ment.
At this emphatic reminder one 9
them, in very broken English, began
GLOW, stammering, but decidedly as
founding announcements TO the effec
that the daughter of fttheir chief, tn
Princess Kawara, had been AM unsee
witness of Captain Stanley's misfortun
that day, at which sight her noble an
l. ~ L