Springfield globe-republic. (Springfield, Ohio) 1884-1887, 1885-04-12

that death had given - others, or with
the look of rest wherewith others had
died, and made Dicks heart swell, he
knew not why. There seemed some
thing good in dying SO, however it
might be.
But, presently, where the heap lay
thickest, and the light was thrown back
whitest from broken steel aud staring
eyes, he surely saw something move.
Frenchman or Englishman, he might
still take some part in the battle by
saving life, to make up for having
taken none.
Sv thither he led his horse, as gently
as before. And if he had been hOrritied
before, it was as nothing to his horror
now.
He saw woman, veritable woman,
of the sex whom he had loved only too
well, crawling about on her hands and
knees among the corpses and-robbing
them.
Nor was the ghoul hideous hag,
such as might be supposed She was
strapping Spanish peasant, comeiy
enough in a coarse way. She had moi
seen him approach: she was far toe
deeply engaged. Where do these vult
ures hide in peace? For peace car
never give them anything foul enough
to do.
Woman though she was. Dick wa.
sorely tempted to startle her from her
work with the butt of his carbine. Bui
even that was not enough to expires.
his loathing.
"You she-devil" he cried.
She started and turned round. And
he saw that she carried long knife.
with Redeemed blade. He guessed
now why the field was without groan.
Il search for my son." said she.
"Your son! If you want him, you
must 90 to the mountains, where the
wolves are. unless there's pack Of you
here. l can't stay; but can't 60 and
leave more murder. maybe, behind.
I've seen enough death; but there must
be one more. To think that all my
share in to-day's work is to shoot down
she-wolf But"
.'Bah!" said the woman, sullenly.
"Tm only taking back my own"
"Your own?'
Yes; from the French brigands
Is woman to be robbed, and not get
back her own?n
That is no Frenchman, poor devil,
That's an Englishman-"
bah! what odds, red coat or blues
And what are you here for yourself,
Portuguese vermin? That is my corpse;
90 elsewhere, and leave me alone.
There's room for US all here. the saints
be praised"
He was so taken aback by such q
charge that he could find, on the in
slant. neither deed nor word. He
looked from her to the corpse she was
hanging over; fine young man, with
a quiet, set face. and closed eyes, bare
headed, in a red coat faced with blue,
his left hand on his heart. his right
under his head. and his broken musket
by his side.
The vulture so evidently took an un-
wounded Portuguese, out there by the
moonlight, for q bird Of her own
feather, that she paid no further heed
to him. She pulled the young soldiers
hand away from his breast, and felt the
fingers. But even she started. From
the tightened lips came the faintest of
moans as his fingers were clutched by
her claws. Nav. Dick could have
sworn the man struggled to rise.
And the vulture must have thought
go, too. Up went the hand that held
the knife, and poised over the heart;
down came Dicks carbine upon her
wrist. and sent the knife flying towards
the moon. She yelled loud enough to
wake the dead. as they say; certainly
to scaie Dick Blackthorn, though he had
heard many a woman scream.
But it was a man hand that clutched
his throat: q man with another knife,
who had sprung up from among the
heap of slain.
.Dog OF Portuguese" he screamed.
leave the woman alone. This sorpse
Is hersr'
Not Dicks carbine, bat Dicka fist
WaAt into tbs scoundrers face, bstVosa
tAs eyes. He dropped Ike . sssoA
No Portuguese could have gwen tha1
blow. Inc woman turned to run; bat
Dick. catching her BY the arm he might
or might not have broken-nOt all II
chivalry could care-whipped Of his
belt and bound both wrists behind hsr
Is tightly as there was need I'm
hanged if can disgrace an honest -
let on you," said he; '.but now rob the
dead and kill the dying If you caA. And
don't, the next time you come ACROSS n
Englishman in Portuguese coat, think
he's Portuguese, yeu Spanish aevk
There! if you can get out Of that stfsp.
I'm done by a woman again. No; net
by a woman, though. You're no mere
man."
He bent over the soldier whom he
had been just in time to save, il saved,
he still were. Oh, for . thimb4e-
full of brandy, or even of Csstiaian
wine! The man was alive; though bat
just alive. And yet what could be
done? 1t was strange, but he seemed
to know the face; but then the moon
light plays queer tricks with features,
and the uniform was thst which he
himself had worn for few days in the
course of his rolling. 1t must haEe
been some brother recruit who. had
been moro faithful to the Kings shilling
than he. Well, was it not better, aftef
all, to die like this, like an English
soldier, than to live to be taken for q
Portuguese ghoul?
He saw something glittering in he
moonlight in the young soldiers breast.
1t was a ring that the vulture had TEN
of Just before the carbine struck h aDd
the knife out of her hand-a plain gold
ring, with no ornament but tie PsY
round it,
''Lore wiu find out the ,csy."
That, too. struck familiar chord.
Dick had heard his own sister Patience
sing it in song hundred times. Poor
young fellow! it was wedding ring.
too. No doubt some love or marriage
token, though ON q mans hand. A
dead wife's. perhaps. Poor fellow, any