The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1889-06-12

| but I'm main sure that | shall find myself
there some time or other, if it only be to
find out if my poor Mehitable was ever
discovered, and to see where they've laid
her"
Then he pressed the nurses hand, and
limped out.
For six weeks longer he remained in
the convalescent hospital established in a
| Benedictine monastery situated in the out
skirts of the city. Perfect rest and kind
treatment at the hands of the brothers re-
stored him sufficiently to health to be able
to leave Brussels with his battalion for
Amiens, where it was to be quartered dur
ing the occupation of France by the allied
armies
He paid last visit to the Augustines'
! church before leaving, in order to see his
soldier-nurse once again, but was told that
| he had left for England with his battalion.
Almost exactly on the anniversary OF
the day when Abner Harrington had
parted from Mehitable Buttrlck with an
| angry speech on his lips, the London
Royal Blue" coach set him down at the
door of the BLACK Boy" in Elmford He
passed along the front OF the inn to back
lane unrecognized, and proceeded TO the
river.
He paused Tor a few moments by the
bridge where Mehitable's clothes had been
found, and then pushed on with slow, I'M
certain steps toward Cuton. Only a year
had passed since he had last trod this
path. vet so much had happened during
that brief span that he seemed surprised
to find his surroundings so little altered.
1t was Saturday, and Abner could al
ready see the BOYS hOcking off to the
cricket field by Summerfield church, and
more than one pair of lovers strolling over
the distant fields.
With something of the old dread over
him, he wanted to avoid meeting any one,
| and so turned off into the woodland, away
from the towing-path. About the copses
and thickets, under the fresh, bright lat
| tice-wOrk of young leaves, he wandered
| until the sun sat amidst royal protuslon
of many-tinted clouds, which gradually
drifted away, and left pure, unbroken
expanse of blue, dotted here and there
with an early star.
Then he Quilted the woodland shades
and retraced his steps toward the river
! and pursued his way more boldly in the
| direction of Cuton. He would make him
self known as little as possible, for he sim
| ply wanted to hear about poor Mehitable,
| and then he would turn his back on his
native village forever.
1t was dark when he reached the first
| houses in Cuton village, but there was the
| RED Lion" and in it there would GER
tainly be some who would at once recog-
nize him, altered in appearance as he was
after his years absence.
| So, feeling very much as he felt on the
night of his discovery that Mehitable had
| disappeared, he crept along on the oppo-
| site side of the street under the shadow of
| the cottage caves, and only breathed freely
.t-ho l,n NIT fuh nf n
Buttrick's cottage.
Strange, he thought that man who had
faced Napoleons cavalry and the dangers
and horrors of military hospital should
| be afraid to face the companions OF his
| bovhood, the inhabitants of an obscure
| little English village.
There was a carriage and a pair at the
keepers ledge gate-a most unusual oc-
| currence-a reason for which Abner was
at loss TO find. He waited until he saw
a tall man in a long cloak, accompanied by
a lady, enter it and drive away; then he
crossed the road on tiptoe, pushed open
| the little wicket gate, crossed the patch OF
garden and peeFed in through the win
! dow.
There-seated in the big armchair at
the table, Just as he had seen her a hun
| bred times, was Mehitable Buttrick! She
was closely wrapped in a wooden shawl
and was examining closely something in
case; a portrait, a brooch, or something.
He drew back, trembling all over. The
| iOv was so great that it had almost stunned
| him Had he been dreaming? Had he
really ever left Cuton and gone for a SOL
| der with the brand of Cain soaring his
forehead?
1t was some time before he could collect
| himself sufficiently to make move toward
the door, open it and announce himself.
He crept away to the porch seat and tried
to grasp the infinity of his happiness.
Mehitable would probably spurn him and
refuse to speak to him, but she was alive
and he was cleared of one foul crime. Per-
| haps she had given her heart to some one
else, for, plain-looking as she was, her
sterling qualities marked her out as an ex-
! cellent hepmate in life to many young
| fellow in the neighborhood. At any rate,
he could ask her forgiveness, tell her what
he had gone through and how he had tried
to wipe off some of the stain on his name
by serving his country.
So he opened the door. Mehitable hast
lily put out OF sight the object at which she
had been looking. and said:
"Why, Abner, am glad to see you !"
care you really?" gasped the young
man "are you really glad to see me after
all that l have done? Oh, 'Hitable, it's a
new life to me- | thought as how you
was dead, that you'd drownded yourself
accuse OF me- / didn't expect it, and l
| don't deserve it; but be so thankful
She was standing gazing at him, smile
| Of real pleasure on her face, which seemed
to have grown broader, more good-hu-
mored and more freckled than ever during
the past year. Still she was there in the
sturdy flesh, and that was all he cared.
| Even If she were to tell him with her
next breath that she had transferred her
/ affections, or that she could never forgive
| him, he could have borne it, so great was
his Joy at seeing her alive.
Here John Buttrick, her father, came
| in. He greeted Abner with tremendous
| grip of the hand and hearty "Glad to see
| We again, Muster Abner." Then Mrs.
Buttrick came in, and she, too, smiled and
welcomed him. But none of them showed
any amazement at his arrival, and he
noted it, thinking that evidently no one
in Cuton knew even that he had enlisted.
"You look wonderful sadly, Muster Alb
ner, said the keeper.
II wonder I'm here at all, said Abner.
Give been at deaths door a score of
times"
"Ohp was the only reply to this.
"Really, now, have We? What We been
arter? Sodgering?"
Abner nodded This was not the hero
| worShiD which he had been accustomed