The Portland daily press., 1892-09-09
The Thread of the Story.

The Thread of the Story.
Q. On dark midwinter night of 1868, Car
loyn Clay, brave and accomplished yrgililadn
quarters to cross the Potomac, penetrate tne
Union lines and obtain medicine tor ner
wounded brother. Her cousin Evan FauntierQy'
one of Stuart'S troopers, accompanies nei w.
wards the Potomac.
3. A young South Carolina officer OF lamp
toms Legion Is with the Confederate Outp l
as the two riders pass, and rides Will tnea
for several miles and as he leaves them warns
them that the Union cavalry may be on Inc
South side of the Potomac.
f. The warning proves true, and MISS Clay
and Fauntleroy are hoty pursued by federa
cavalry.
. 5. Both Adventures are captured, after MISS
Clay has shot at a Federal horseman: MISS
Clay demands of the Federal Major that she pe
released as non-combatant.
6. The Federal Commander Custer suspects
that his two captures are spies and SenoS iol
his guide, a Virginian, VINO may Dc dpio w
identify them.
T. The guide turns out to be Peyton Fltz,
hugh Miss Clays former lover, whom she nao
cast OFF because he deserted the Confedefacy.
ing confined in solitary hut under guard OF
sentinel Here she is left to bitter reflections
on Fitzhugh's perfdy.
8. During the night Fitzhugh appears and,
though she spums him, finally induces nsr 10 10
allow him to guide her to a horse on which sne
may escape.
9. The scene shifts to Baltimore, where Mrs.
Gilmour Gray. a quiet but active Southern
sympathiZer, is having party.
10. Peyton Fitzhugh is present but not trusted Sc
by the Gray's who are concealing Carolyn Clay
under their roof
H. Fitzhugh tries to find from Carroll
Meredith when Carolyn Clay is to recross the
Potomac.
Fitzhugh looked l1eenly at the speak
er, missed at last, and, leaning on his
cue, was about to speak earnestly, but
changed his mind and only asked:
! sShoot much now? Much game down
In the counties?"
ssLotsl l go down Often" Meredith
answered, growing more glib under the
mixture of cognac and champagne.
ssSay, Peyton, there's bigger game in
Prince Georges now" He checked
himself suddenly, with shrewd leer at
the others impassive face. Rare days
I'VE did use to have in old times, Ell?
Guess aoas rather fond of tear for
a syoungster. Remember that sum-
mer at Capon, just before the war,
when 1 fell waltzing with Carolyn"
Again he checked himself, more alb
ruptly and with more of effort, aiming
intently at his ball.
''They were jolly days." Fitzhugh
said. .sHere's to their return-after the
lwar!"
He filled both glasses trimming.
Meredith gulped his eagerly, to the last
drop; but the other man, seemingly
eager for his turn at the balls, placed
his glass on side-stand, scarcely
touched.
s.Say, Peyton, old boy" Meredith
cried suddenly, as his opponent finished
& small run which he neglected to
count, II used to think that summer
you were pretty soft on her."
"Indeed? On whom?"
'sCarolyn Clay. She was beauty,
though. George! how she could ride
and shoot! A perfect thoroughbred!
But you did seem pretty hard hit!'
Ibid I? Pom my word, Iforget," Fitz-
hugh retorted, with controlled tongue;
but his eyes glowed, as they measured
the other man, now stretching INSTEAD
,ily across the table "What ever became
of Miss Clay?''
ssShe's all right, old boyl She"
Suddenly Meredith checked himself,
isteadying his body against the cushion,
as he gazed at his querist with a stare
meant to be penetrating, but too large
liz tinctured with alcohol "She's some
where over in Virginia, I suppose"
J: 'sWell, hope we may meet-in the
spring," Fitzhugh answered, quietly;
and he reflled the others glass, adding
49, 4, = f-,11 10
good old times, Carroll!''
SIP old times it is! Damn it, Peyton,
meeting you does bring 'em baek
Many jolly tear, eh?" and he gulped
down the fiery cognac as it had been
water. "Ah, that's the stuff! You're
right! Woman's wine, champagne.
What were we saying?-Carolyn Clay?
Yes; she's a grand girl!-she's soldier!-
Peyton, OF boy, if 1 wasn't pledged-if
I dared might tell you something to
'stonisll- Whose shot is it? Miner"
He broke off abruptly, turning to the
table and playing wildly, but counting.
Again Fitzhugh's eyes sought the clock
anxiously. It marked the quarter to
twelve.
"Gamel' he cried, suddenly. 'I'll bet
you a terrapin supper you can't beat
me, the next game we play. This room
is too hot. Come, let's get into the air.
One night-cap, and I'll walk home with
you"
Again he filed the glasses with steady
hand Again Meredith drained his,
lurching heavily towards the hat-rack.
Then the two locked arms, passing into
the black December night. The cold
wind, contrasting to the close room,
drove the alcohol fumes faster to Mere
dith's brain, loosening his legs and his
tongue in equal degree.
Eyes, sirl Carolyn Clays soldier, ev'ry
inchl Braves girl yo' ever heard O..
An litt'l VIII McKee,"-he gabbled on,
witt, a chuclzle-"tha' littP shrinp!-
Peyton, you'd new s'pect society beau
like him-damn sush pavement!-you'd
new s'pect shrimp like him-KnowI can
trust you, OF boy! But he's riskin' OF
capitol"
When Peyton Fitzhugh had found
Carroll Meredith's night-key, left him
IN his room, and turned once more into
the night, he muttered to himself:
L.