The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, 1890-07-04

NiiCkO w - l"@I
And then she drew the box from the
lid, and saw within a little %crumpled,
stiffened, blood-stained kid glove.
As the kid came into contact with
| the palm other hand she turned dead.
" white. A question seemed to form
itself on lip and eye, but no words
anne
"How did it come there" said Cap
tain Featherstonhaueh, taking the
glove from her passive hand. "Why
don't you ask, Bertie?"
"Tell me-" she said, simply.
"Of course. you know how narrowly
I escaped the massacre of Isandlana?"
said Captain Featherstonhaugh. "The
First battalion OF the second regiment
was, as you know, cut to pieces"
Yes" said Miss Boscowitch, me-
chemically.
Il was sent with n party of officers
to identity, ii, possible, the slain" he
went on. "On the bare, bleak field
lay the bodies OF q score of men had
known and loved. TO identify them, for
the most part. was all but i'm possible.
| saw u Photograph of Lady My
ing near a wrecked train; | picked up
@ ring"
Captain Featherstonhaugh paused;
he put his right foot meditatively on
the fender. and gazed at the logs of
pine which were blazing merrily and
contrasting comfortably with the chip
autumnal light, which touched the
outside landscape with its own pecul-
lar beauty. Miss Boscowitch had never
stirred from the position into which
she had sunk.
II found the glove" he continued,
meditatively, Lying at the side of an
officer bathcd in blood. The name of
the officer was"
Miss Boscowitch had risen with a
d~espairing cry.
Was" she easped.
"What does it matter to you,
Bertie?" said Captain FeatherstOn-
haugh. "Why do you look like this?
What possesses your"
But she caught his arm, and her eyes
sought his so wildly, whilst her lips
repeated that one word Was so en-
treatinGIy, that Captain Featherston-
haugh forgot his surprise and dawn
ing wrath i'll fear for her.
'Trelawny, he said, hastily.
"Trelawny!" As if reiteration were
needed Il knew it! felt it, Oh, my
love. This - my glover" she ex-
claimed, i'll deep emotion, and then
she fell back into ther Ocking-chair and
sObbed as ii her heart would break.
Looking ut the bowed figure of the
girl before him, Captain Featherston-
haugh felt that strange mixture olsen
timents which spring from a sudden
shock. Love and anger fought hard
for the mastery within him. He had
told her, but IL little before, it would
only make her even dearer to him.
Was it so? A surging, tempes-
tuous passion OF words came
sweeping upwards to his lips. Why
had she not told him the mystery
of this glove? He moved away from
her, and gazed ont with Il mighty ef-
fort, born OF u strong control.
On the rough, wild, solitary moor
lands which were stretching away for
miles, q couple of large birds were tax
ing law flight in that direction. He
He was taking in each detail OF the
scene of his home life with
that sharpness of sense which is born
OF Il new experience, whether OF pleas
ure or pain.
Between himself and this girl he so
loved lay this small, white, blood
stained glove. Destiny had kept it
locked away III it's receptacle.
to bring forth at the moment of his
newly-found JOY; to rob him of its
sweetness, by thetorture ofthis sad yet
in some sort gracious memory.
1t was Miss BoscOwitch who broke
the stiffness that seemed to fill the
after the FIRST wild paroxysm Of
her grief had passed
"The glove is NINE she said, brok-
emily. 81 gave it to Captain Trelaw-
ny, to whom | was engaged, on the
OF his departure for that terrible
He was to keep it always,
carry it into the field of battle, and,
On his happy return, it was to be IN
everlasting witness and badge OF our
owe. | had not forgotten; but / had
ct the present overlay the past, and
now, to-day, as if it were meant, | am
net on the very threshold of your
nome by this strange, haunting ques-
5ion-How did it come there? ask
painfully, Hugh,-Why did it come
Still not lookinga at Miss Boscowitch,
Featherstonhaugh moved and
picked up the poor little glove. which
at her feet. Anger and love had
hard withhim and loveh won
he day.
Did you really love him?" he asked,
-ery sadly.
Not as 1 love you-oh,n not as Hove
you," she cried, rising and ~Clinging to
lim. Il thought l loved him, Hugh;
,ut when | met you. then l knew that
had neye; really loved Arthur Trel-
lwny.
He bowed his tail form before her,
perhaps in homage, perhaps 20 hide
he emotion which OverpOwered him.
''Bertie, will YOU let me keep the
he whispered. 1T shall be
acret; shall bind us more closely to-
Whether you loved him or
lot, this must be a sorrow to you.
fake this sorrow as much yours as
nine, as much mine as yours"