The Corvallis gazette. [volume] (Corvallis, Or.) 1862-1899, 1885-12-11

w pun d. IldIlio GO IL. Anu yGU L al-
most fancy-and [ think of it every
time get fair look at him-that
I've seen the face with tuft above
it."
ga tuft! you don't mean it?" Or
ford cried.
eyes, do. get back to a certain
point, and then | seem to come to a
dead-wall, which blocks me complete
ly."
''Oh, you must be mistaken, or be
mixing him up with somebody else,"
Oxford declared. "It couldn't be, you
know; somebody would be sure to rec
ognize him."
'Well, may be-" Lord Archie ad-
mitted-'I may be, but still I've had
the same impression ever since 1 have
been in the regiment. Still, as you
say, | may be mixing him up with
somebody else"
"Why don't you ask him outright?"
II did hint at it once. One of the
horses was sick, and we had good
deal of trouble with him; and one af-
ternoon l was watching Arnitt put a
bandage on, when the conviction that
/ had known him before came upon
me stronger than ever. This is not
the first time you and have had to
do with a horse together, Arnitt,' l
said to him. He looked up at me
quickly. a flash of 81 look as if might
be detective who had been tracking
him for years, and had hunted him
down at last. For Gods sake, don't
my lord, he said, all in a hurry; it's
no use pretending that l was once "a
AN undergrade at Brazenose,' put
in; when, poor beggar, he gave such
cringing shiver that I felt sure I'd put
my hand on an open wound, and
wished had let him alone. 4 want
to forget all that, my lord; 1sunk that
life and everything connected with it
long SINCE he said, desperately. 4
wouldn't have joined the Black Horse
if I'd ever guessed you would have
been gazetted to it, ooh, it's all
right. I'll not remind you of it
again, Arnitt, told him; for, of course
1 didn't want to make his burden
any heavier for him to carry. knew
his face, but could not remember his
name, and should not try to find out.
Only l said 1 do remember perfect
ly we'll that you didn't call me ''my
lord' in the old days Don't talk
about the old days. he burst out. 4
forfeited all that made them worth
having, and 1 can bear it; but don't
remind ME of them, if you know what
pity is-don't.' So of course [ told
him wouldn't, and no more [ did. l
never tried to find him out, but I've
often thought about it, and tried to
fix the name 1 knew belonged to the
face, but I never could; it has always
eluded my memory just as a dream
often does. Yes, there is queer story
at the back of Arnitt's hard life, [
know that. It's strange fate for a
man to have been tuft at Brazenose,
and then aprivate in a marching regi-
melit, with wife picked out of a circus.
And he's fond of her, too; oh, yes, for
she is not q bad sort. and was always
pretty Yes, it's a queer story, very.
Well, l must be getting along-by-by."
"By-by," returned Oxford, and went
on his way. wondering much about
the story hs had just heard. Mean
time Lord Archie went further along
the street, and turned in at an arch
way between two of the little feature
less houses, which brought him into
the stable-yard. He just cast an eye
over the animals, and then inquired OF
the groom which was Arnitt's house.
The man pointed it out, and Lord
Archie crossed the narrow, ill-paved
little street, and knocked softly on the
panel of the door. 1t was opened by
The pretty, fair-haired wife, who look
ed worn to death, and had a baby in
her arms; two other children, yet lit
tie more than infants, ,clung to her
skirts, and the bigger ones stood in the
bo oc1,oro,,nd 1ooEiDC Shy1u on
"Good-day, Mrs. Arnitt. How is
your husband?" he asked.
"Oh, my lord, he's very ILL.," she an
swered with quivering lips and eyes
brimming over. not because she had
been weeping much, but because the
sympathetic tone went straight to her
heart, and made it quiver like a harp
swept by a strong hand; ''he's very Ill,
indeed; and DIR. Granger scarcely gives
me any hope at all"
"Who's attending to him? Have
you got nurse or anybody to help
you?" Lord Archie inquired.
eyes, my lord; Mr.. Oxford sent one
in as soon as ever he heard Arnltt
was ill-very i'll, that is. But he will
never get over it, my lord-never. "
And lowering her voice almost to a
whisper. "He's got something on his
mind; know it; Pm sure of it,
"What kind OF something?" Lord
Archie asked.
81 can't tell that, my lord" she an
swered; ''but something there is, for
certain. Arnitt is very quiet,
close sort of man, and though
he's one of the best husbands that
ever drew breath, and has never
| given me a cross word since we were
married, and has never raised his
hand to one of the children-and they
are trying at times, there's no deny
ing it-he's never told me a word
about his past life, never a one. /
don't know anything about him, my
lord, not even where he was born, or
whether he has relation in all the
world. But he isn't like me, my lord;
and though he's no better now than a
common soldier. he's a gentleman,
Arnitt is; and sometimes Icould fancy
he was even more than that"
Lord Archie's conscience pricked
him a little that he was Obliged in