Lancaster daily intelligencer. [volume] (Lancaster, Pa.) 1864-1928, 1890-03-15

uOn 70 the SICK ana suuerong IN the old
days Of the Indian wars. and Stannard
had made similar proffer and been
similarly refused, and he had gone away
indignant lie thought Nr. Hayne too
buinptious 10 live; but he bore no malice,
and his wrath was soon over. Many Of
the cavalry officers called in person and
rendered their services, and were very
civilly received. but all offers were POSI-
lively declined. just what The infantry
officers should do was . momentous
question. That they could no longer
hold aloof was matter that was quick.
ly settled, and three of their number
went through the chill cleaning Of the
wintry eve and sent In their cards by
Sam, who ushered them into the cheer
less front room. while one Of their num-
ber followed to the doorway which led
to the room in rear, in which, still con-
fined to his bed by the doctors advice,
the injured officer was lying. Il was
Mr.. Ross who went to the door and
. cleared his throat and stood in the pres
ence of the man to whom, more than
five years before, no had refused his
hand. The others listened anxiously:
"Mr. Hayne. this is Ross. ] come
with Foster and Graham TO say how
deeply we regret your injuries, and to
tender our sympathy and our services"
There was dead silence for moment.
Foster and Graham stood with hearts
that beat unaccountably hard, looking at
each other in perplexity. Would he
never reply2
The answer came at last--a question:
"To what injuries do you allude, Mr..
Ross2"
Even in the twilight they could sec
the sudden flush Of the Scotchman's
cheek. He was n blunt fellow, but, a.
the senior, had been chosen spokesman
for the three. The abrupt question stag
gered him. It was a second or two be-
fore he could collect himself.
81 mean the injuries at the fire" he
replied.
This time no answer whatever. II was
growing too painful. Ross looked in
bewilderment at the bandaged face and
and again broke the silence:
1--WE hope you won't deny us the right
to be Of service, Mr.. Hayne. If there is
anything we can do that you need or
would like hesitatingly.
"You have nothing further to sayY'
asked the calm voice from the pillow.
"I--don't know what else we can say" !"
faltered Ross, after an instant'e pause.
The answer came, firm and prompt,
but icily cool:
"Then there is nothing that you can
do"
And the three took their departure,
sore at heart
There were othersof the infantry who
had purposed going to see Hayne that
evening, but the story of Roes's expert
ence put an end to it all. It was plain
that even now Mr.. Hayne made the con-
dition of the faintest advance from his
regimental comrades full confession Of
error. He would have no less.
That evening the colonel sat by his bed
side and had an earnest talk. He ven
tured to cxpostulate with the invalid on
his refusal to go to the majors or to
Stannard's. He could have SO many
comforts and delicacies there that would
be impossible here. He did not refer to
edibles and drinkables alone, he said
with q smile; but Haynes patient face
gave no sign of relenting. He heard the
colonel through. and then said slowly
and firmly:
IL have not acted hastily, sir; ap
preciate their kindness, and am not un
grateful. Five years ago my whole life
was changed. From that time to this
have done without host Of things that
used to be indispensable, and have alb
jured them ono and all for single lux
ury that cannot live without--the lux
ury of utter independence-the joy ol
knowing that owe no man anything
The blessing of being beholden TO no one
N earth for single service cannot pay
br. 1t is the one luxury left me-"