The Louisiana Democrat. [volume] (Alexandria, La.) 1845-1918, 1889-01-23
Like an ACCUSING iudre. that glance


this, he dared not speak of his love;
dared not offer life so selfish to her
he loved, but when she had gazed at
him SO earnestly Douglas soul had
seemed to awaken from slumber, and
had leaped forth in an answering gaze.
Earnest purpose seemed to lie there,
and to have met its complement in the
soft beam of her own. For an instant
they seemed to be revealed to one an
other, but when the thought of his life
came back Douglas dared not speak.
Bravely ne put aside the temptation,
resolving to make himself worthy
of that pure soul ere asking
it to share his life. The con-
versation now drifted into dis
cussion of what constitutes real hero,
and Douglas accustomed to studying
the lives of Napoleon and Alexander
was hardly willing to admit with Alice
that as Carlyle says: "If a hero
means sincere man why may not every
Ouo Vi us Ue d nero!
Leaving Alice that evening Ather-
ton pressed her hand ever so lightly,
and gazed at her with longing, but his
lips spoke no word of love.
Reaching his friends house he found
a telegram calling him to join his reg
iment at midnight as it passed through
Lawrenceburg. There was terrible
uprising of Indians in the mountains,
and the troops had been ordered out
at an hours warning. There was
barely time to reach the city and join
his men. Long, weary days of toll and
danger followed. Many lives were lost
in the first encounter, and then Lieu
tenant Anterior was ordered far up in
the mountains to guard mining camp
from the savages.
A premature winter shut them in
and cut them off from communication
with the outside world. lily prepared
for this, only most careful husband
ing of their resources kept them alive.
Brave soldiers persisted with cold;
sickness was in the little camp. Car
ing for his men, watching beside the
sick. Lieutenant Atherton scarcely had
time to think of his own misery; went
about unmindful of frozen fingers and
toes and of racking cough that was
wearing him out. At times, as he
lowered late at night over the scanty
fire, or sat beside some poor suffering
man, he seemed to hear a sweet voice
singing Home, Sweet Home" and an
unutterable longing to look into the
eyes of her he loved would warm him
like stimulant and he would rouse up
to still more earnest work. It was
months before they were relieved, and
when help came he was carried in an
ambulance to the nearest fort. There
he lay, tossing with fever, and only
came forth in the late spring the
shadow of his former self. Very wan
and thin he looked, but the story of his
devotion to his men had become known,
and he was the hero of the hour.
One day while he was still con-
valescing he passed along the village
street and stood spell-bound as he heard
her voice singing:
"Break, break, break,
At the foot OF thy crags, o sea!
But the tender grace OF Il day that is dead,
Will never come back to me-"
Hesitating but an instant he entered
and rang the door-bell of the pretty
cottage from whence the voice came:
SIS Miss Alice Holland in?" he
asked.
Eyes, sir. Walk in please" an
swered the young girl who came to
the door.
Entering the house, the girl parted
portiere and motioned to him to pro-
coed. Alice still sat at the instrument,
but Douglas saw a tear fall on her
hand as she hastily turned around.
douglas! Lieutenant Athertonr
then in more formal tone. Il am as
tonished to see YOU"
"And you" AS they were speak
ing their hands clasped, and uncon-
sciously the little white hand of Alice
fingered in that of Atherton's.
But you are ill? Sit here. Sop
for Anterior grew strangely white as
he sank into cushioned seat.
miss Holland, how is it you are
here. I wrote you last week at Edge
water Hall"
Her face grew very bright as he
spoke.
my sister lives here" she said,
s'and | arrived but last evening
coming on to spend my Easter holiday.
And you?"
In few words he told her how he
had been summoned away and Of the
winter in the mountains.
II know. / read in the papers how
you lead the victorious charge against
the savages and escaped without q
wound, and then were sent up in the
mountains. The last tidings l heard
were that probably you and your mer
had perished"-her breast heaved and
she was silent.
"Alice, dare I tell you, now that
know what a serious thing life is, and
how to appreciate its possibilities, that
| love you, loved you years before
saw your face, and that life is desolatt
without youp"
"Douglas!''
No other answer was needed, as thei
spirits looked forth from the dark eyes