The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1885-11-19

him. and each forgot betrothed and
brother in one long kiss; then each re-
membered, and tore themselves apart
Then followed the conversation re-
corded, then the farewell kiss and then
the sound of his departing feet.
Loving Robert, yet in 4 week she
would breathe her marriage-vows at
Richards side-here was indeed a most
unhappy fate. She dared not pray to
die, tOr her good mother had taught
her it was sinful yet as she looked up
al the pale stars that had looked down
upon so many battle-felds. SO many
graves, so many broken hearts, for SO
many ages, she wished invuluntarily
that the angel of death would come
down and lay his cold hand ON her
brow, and still tac aching and the fever
of life for evermorc.
But there was yet more to bear with
the morrow when Roberts company
marched away to the war, so with q
long sigh she arose from her, knees,
closed the window. and retired to q
slumber broken with sad dreams and
bitter sobs.
All the village was out betimes next
morning to see the soldiers off, and
Emily, fearing that her absence might
excite comment, stood by her gate and
saw them 60 by.
Her face was as white as her dress,
and the waves of music seemed to turn
to great waves of sorrow on which her
soul was borne away, while she was
dimly conscious that she--saw above
the glitter of uniform the brown eyes
OF Robert. not sunny now, but sad.
Then the music seemed to grow
farther and fainter, and die in great
stiffness.
When she came back TO conscious
ness again she was lying on lounge
in the sitting-room, her mother was
bending over her, several neighbors
were lowering round, and there was q
strong sickening odor of camphor in
the air. She had tainted, she, the
healthy girl who had never known q
days illness in her life. .
She lay all the rest of the day on the
lounge by the open window. where
green leaves f1uttered and the bees
hummed, her thoughts far away with
Robert on his southwark Journey.
In the afternoon Richard came and
sat beside her and read to her. She
gazed upon his finely-shaped fair head.
regular features, and clear blue eyes,
and wondered why she could not love
him as she loved his brother, whose
only claims to beauty were his brown
eyes and sunny smile. She felt sorry
for Richard and sorry for herself.
He thought that he held her heart
as well as her hand, and she must 90
on through life endeavoring to make
him believe it living lie. For Robert
she did not feel so sorry. He was free
to act a noble part.
For the soldier and patriot there
would be no hypocrisy, but for the weak
woman and deluded man he left behind
there would be lifetime of dissimula-
tion and delusion.
The next day was the Fourth of
July.
1t was to be celebrated with very
little of its old-time enthusiasm in the
little village in the shadow of the High
lands. With its brave sons gone TO the
wars, it felt little like jubilee; the fire
of youth was gone, and only the gray
ashes of feeble old age was left.
1t had boasted before the beginning
of the war, fire company composed
of stalwart sons of toll, victors in many
a conflict with the flames, but with the
growth of the war many of them had
resigned the hose to carry the musket.
The depleted ranks were filled with
clerks and men of like occupations who
had not yet caught the fever OF pat
riotism that was spreading from place
to place.
Richard was one of these new re-
yet been dazzled by the glory of the
war, and he loved books much better
than the glitter of arms, and the songs
of his favorite poets or the calm voice
of philosophy than the clash of martial
music.
On this day his company was to play
the hose against q rival company at
Peekskill. further down the river.
1t had been announced that Emily
was to 60 down the river also, as were
almost all the village maidens and
many of the matrons, but when morn
ing came she was yet too weak from
the fainting-tit of the day before to
go.
just ere the boat started Richard
came to her, where she sat in a low
chair in the doorway with book upon
her knees.
II am so sorry you cannot CO." he
said, as he bent and kissed her. A
rosebud lay on the open pages in her
lap and she fastened it on his breast,
and he left her with a smiling face,
looking back at her ere he passed out
of sight, and touching the rosebud with
fond meaning.
As, apart from his comrads, he leaned
over the rail of the steamboat and
watched the foaming waves and verd-
ant shores glide by, he was lost in a
reverie of the happy day. now so close
at hand, when he would lead the lovely
girl who had placed the rosebud on his
breast to the alter.
The wraf at Peekskill. dark with the
shifting crowd that had gathered to
welcome them, came in sight. The
boat slowed her engines, and. as she
headed for the wharf, gave sudden
lurch.
Richard. deep in rosy visions Of the
future. and not alive to what was 60
ing on around him. lost his balance
and went headlong over the rail and
under the churning wheel.
Emily, sitting on the porch at even
ing, heard the sound of the mournful
music, and saw the company that had
gone away so gaily that morning re-
turning with slow steps, and solemn
faces, and sable Grape, the badge of
mourning, on their arms.
With beating heart and blanched lips
she ran down to the little gate. They
bore something in their midst that was
not the coiled hose, nor yet had the
starry flag.
She advanced from the gateway
towards them, and they halted and
stood by with uncovered heads and
plying glances, that she might see their
burden.
On a rude impromptu bier, the fair
hair clustering round his pale brow yet
damp from the waters, the little rose
bud torn and dropping and half un-
folding on his breast, lay Richard. her
betrothed, his Saxon beauty heightened
by the majesty which death gave him.
and the smile yet lingering round his
lips that had covered them when he
dreamed of the happy futnre by her
side.
naotb had o,1t tho Gordian Enot and