Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1889-05-16

loved and his love had been returned.
i did not know there was such love.
illness on earth, said the dying soldier,
until l met Helen Conyngham. l
have her picture here and you shall
! Judge Of her yourself. Here, with q
painful effort, he drew out a portfolio
from under his pillow and gave it to
the major. Her letters are here, too
do what you will with the picture
and the letters, and only write to her
and tell her that I gave her my last
thoughts and all my love
At intervals be filled in the rest of
the story. The girl whom he loved
had forgiven him again and again for
his wanderings and had tried to help
him build up his shattered life. At
last she had applied the heroic remedy
and sent him letter to say that she
would not consent to see him again
until he could come to her clothed
and in his right mind
She was right, major and l say
now and will say with my last breath,
God bless her for her sweet faithful
ness to duty
In desperate mood Herbert jaw
rim had sold his commission, taken
steamer for America and for a while
had passed life of gay dissipation in
New York and other American cities.
At last the inevitable crisis came
His money had gone and so were the
friends of his butterfly summer.
When his last dollar had been spent
he enlisted in a regiment then at
the front, in hope that a friendly
bullet would soon end his troubles
The bullet had come all too soon, and
had found him realizing in his life as
private soldier what Helen Conyng.
ham had tried to impress upon him
about faithfulness to duty. 1t was
hard for him, he said, but no doubt it
was better for her. Only she would
be glad to hear that he had died SOL
dier's death.
The major tried to speak encour-
aging words when he babe the soldier
good night, but even then he feared
that they might never meet again iu
life. Indeed, when he went to the
hospital tent next morning the death
dew was on Private Jauvrln's fore
head and he could only speak in the
faintest whisper and with catches of
the breath as he asked him to pray for
him. Maj. Estes knelt beside the dy-
ing man and in low tones uttered the
Lords Prayer, holding the clammy
hands clasped in his own.
Thank vou-am 1 dying now?'
we're the next words. The major
could not speak. He only looked sad
ly into the eyes of the private soldier
who in brief minute was to know
the secret of the eternities.
They buried Herbert Jauvrin in the
little cemetery of the cavalry corps on
the banks of the Appomattox. But
his ashes do not repose there. They
rest under a costly monument in the
parish church of his fathers In Eng
land, and under his name is the legend
Died on the field of honor
When Maj. Estes, after his return
to camp, opened in the secrecy of his
tent the little portfolio which Herbert
Jauvrin had bequeathed to him, he
had no premonition that literally be
held his fate in his own hands. There
was a locket Of Etruscan gold in one
of the pockets, and when he had open
ed it he held it before him as if he
had been turned to marble by the
sight. The face was beautiful beyond
anything he had ever seen-at least,
so it seemed to him. Golden hair and
blue eyes and the mouth of Hebe; in.
tellect and health and grace were
there, and with Incompatible beauty
a firmness as gentle as velvet and as
hard as iron. AS he gazed be under.
stood the whole story of the hapless
love which had ended so disastrously
and yet not hopelessly.
The letters of Helen Conyngham
were further revelation of her sweet
womanllness. They pleaded with q
pathetic simplicity for the better life
of the man she loved but she never
4 for . moment concealed from him OF
from herself the fact that she could
never marry man who voluntarily
debauched himself or the high sand
ard she had set. Even her last edict
Of banishment was only plea for her
lost love's redemption.
| 1t was painful task to write to the
relatives of Herbert Jauvrin-most
painful of all to break the news Of his
death to the woman he had loved
He inclosed her own letters to Miss
Conyngham-all except a little formal
note accepting an invitation to drive,
though why he had retained this he
could not explain to himself. The
locket he promised to forward by
friends who we're gong to England.
Someho the locket did not 60, and
it would have puzzled his friends had
he heen killed and this unknown face
found among the papers he always
carried with him. He came to regard
it as his tutelary divinity and had q