, 1889-09-26
WHILE THEY ARE At REST,


'hut up In gray prison of an office,
with no breathing space, for almost ten
years, can know what that summer
among the Cumberland mountains had
been to me.
And that should not have enjoyed
had II not been for n fever In the spring
that mnde complete rest u necessity.
So early liz the month Of June,
when the mountains were a
pink blush of laurel blossoms, found
a hermitage in quaint, od-time log
house, from whence had explored the
surrounding country making friends
with the ''natives," listening to
their tales of the 'wah," 50 late
N them, so long ago TO me.
Surely there can be no more beautiful
place in the world than those mountains
IN Eastern Tennessee.
Poor 'shoddy'' Americans, who for all
these years have been pouring over to
Europe each season, In their ycarniug
for the beautiful, not having had time
to discover a moro beautiful than Italy
at home, would ye enjoy it as l, in my
brief respite, did, l wondcrl
Many had been the stories poured in
to my eager, listening ear, but think
that one which touched me most was
the history of an old deserted house
that stood short distance back from
the road from Winchester to Chatta-
nooga.
1t was of logs built In rambling old
style, with quaint dormer windows,
wide-sprcading porch surrounding it on
three s!des. The building was almost
lost to view beneath fragrant yellow
honcysuekle, which grew in unframed
luxuriance, while from one of the tall,
cut stone chimncys banner of scarlet
crceper waved or hung pendant in the
calm, perfumed air; surrounding
beeches, from between their graceful
branches, let fall n simmer of golden
green light and shadow, 1t was all so
peaceful, so silent lost to
the world il seemed, that its very beauty
raised a feeling of awe in your mind,
and you instinctively trod lightly in
passing up the old grass-grown path.
You understood why better as you
neared the house and stopped by
narrow mound--no headstone, no
name marked it, but the
long grass blades waved gently,
the flowers from their neglected beds
crcpt shyly near, the bees hummed with
u dreamy distant murmur, sunlight and
shadow fitted Silly DER the green
mound, and all was peace, If not happi-
ness, at last. His home was his monu-
ment. 1t was called the "Colonel Hard
ing place"
The scene lay before me in all its calm
beauty, us reclincd In the woods not
far away. And the thought came,
why cannot l, too, stay here and end
my days2 l am tired Of the world, with
its its,, weary >v;,,, rush, M, , its endless
trasting thoughts of what must be, |
turned to watch u squirrel that had been |
regarding me-. only halffcarfully, !
, ssaa biz VIZ aalG u, n4s i&s mSsspsst 5Sst Of
he disappeared, but my eye caught sight
Of IA peculiarly round stone protruaing
from the hole, and reaching out my
hand lazily picked it up. To my sur
prise IL proved to be the handle of q rid
ing whip, which | drew forth from, its
hiding. place Il was u thin, flexible rat
best make, SO 1 looked with surprise at
the handle, strip of lead wound rudcly
about it-a most incongruous handle, IL
seemed.
Takingou my knife began carelessly
whiting at the lead, wondering mean
time how it could have gotten in that
hollow tree.
Perhaps 1t had been used as n weapon
1t might have been the instrument of
crime--a weight OF that size striking
person on the head, as one OH horseback
could easily do, would be very danger-
Suddenly the lead where | was shay
ing cut through, and lstarted as caught
the CLEAN of gold. The mystery was
deepening.
Working eagerly now, in moment |
had the rude Icad OIL, and exposed to
view finely chased handle of gold as
bright as when first made. Turning il
upward saw on the end name, "Helen
Royce
Here indeed was discovery, or greater
mystery, rather.
My mind returned to the house of
which had just been thinking, the
Colonel Harding place. A story went
that he had once known and loved
Helen Royce, who had been killed dur
ing the terrible times of the war by
her own brother, under tllc impression
she was acting as SPY; For her sake, it
VAo ohit, tiie tOlouci itusi tillN nONtSc
near the place of her death; here he had
lived alone--alone he had died in few
years, and his grave 1t was In the shadow
Of the beechcs.
Did possess u key to tho true story ? |
Curiously took up the circet of lead
pcering into ii n thin ring OF paper caught |
my eye. Drawing IL forth quickly, IL |
proved to be a closely folded sheet of
thinncst tissue paper, but the writing |
was in ink, still perfectly lcgibic. In Il |
moment had taken it all la. It wns q |
finely drawn map of the outworks and |
fortifications of Chattanooga with the |
surrounding roads, and full Information
Of Brngg's strength and resources.
There was date, 1t was Septcm Der 1,
1868. / saw at once that the informal |
tion would have been invaluable to us
in lives and money had IL reached its |
destination, which felt was the federal
forces, but IL had not.
i turned IL over to see IL there was any
private word, but could find nothing. |
The drawing was done with care, with
every attention to detail. Before my re-
turn North with the aid OF my discov-
cry, the whole story was known.
1t was before the war, but with ru-
mors of it thick In the air, that jack
son Royce and Dwight Harding had
graduated at the same time, and with
almost equal honor, from West Point.
Royce was returning 10 his beautiful
Southern home, and nothing would do
but his long time 'chum' and warmest
friend, Dwight Harding must oo with