The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1892-05-07


or anon STOPPING with gentle haste Ia
wet the parched lips OF one OF her
children. Like some fitful freely. with
the lantern buckled to her belt now
that the fight Is ended. she treads her
way among the many forms with
which the ground Is strewn. as though
seeking some one her watchful ewes
had missed. A groan arrests her
steps At her very feet helpless,
wounded, lies the man on whom she
had sworn to be avenged. The fair
hair Is streaked with blood. heavy
look OF pain rests on the handsome
face. the lips which called her I'M
sexed are white and still bat as her
glance rests on him. her heart gives
one great throb. then seems 70 cease
its beat Swiftly she stoops, and,
with rapid, skillful fingers. binds up
his wounds her eyes fearless, but q
great sob In her throat.
my revenge must wait" she
murmurs, as II In excuse OF the act
He would not know it Besides he
is one Of my children. though I-Ihate
him."
Poor little grill Even as the words
escaped her. she bent still lower the
dainty head. cast one hasty glance
about then suddenly pressed the red.
warm lips upon the cold. white brow.
As II the deed had been compulsory,
she started to her feet and. like a
deer. sped across the plain to
bring him help, without which he must
die.
Remember, do not let him know
that l had him brought here" she
commanded the men. as they laid
him on the hospital cot and each one
swore his obedience.
''Marie!" He had grown strong and
well again since that cruel night; but
try as he would to draw nearer to this
strange. fitful child. she was an ignis
tatuus whom he could not approach.
He called her now from tho door OF
his tent Come here little one; !
have something to show you. Slowly
she came towards him. He drew
picture from his breast.
II will show you something very
sacred TO me- Marie" Gordon con-
tinued; They say the soldiers always
confide to you their trusts and II some
fine day die on the battle field. you
must take this from my body and send
1t to the address written on the back.
IL is the portrait OF my promised
wife"
Had the night grown cold? Was she
awake or dreamingp Before her
there fluttered laughing face OF ex-
quisite beauty. She saw it all-the
delicate, high-bred air. the peerless
head the slender, perfect figure; but her
eyes grew very wistful. and her cheek
paled. The summer night had lost
its freshness. and the child her youth.
Another hot fight drew to its close
Gordon Graham had been taken pris-
oner by the enemy. they told Marie,
and she laughed to hear the news. but
in the laugh something sounded like
sob The camp seemed strangely
empty without him. Had that high
born beauty in her far-oif home heard
the news. she wondered. and did he
still look for comfort at the face he
carried next his hearth Her revenge
must wait awhile now. He would be
back soon. But what was this which
crept from lip to lip along the camp?
The return of an important prisoner
had been demanded by the enemy, or
ere twenty. four hours had passed. Cor
don Graham would be shot through
the heart
Their messenger had been delayed
on the way and now but six hours in
tervened before the appointed time
too late for aid to reach him. Marie
pause not an instant but FASTENED to
the commander.
Send what other messengers you
will. she pleaded. .'but give me your
swiftest horse and the papers which
Will save him, and l will reach the
The chief knew something OF how
well che might be trusted. and with
God-speed sent her on her way. On
and on, like a bird OF the desert she
few through the silent night until. as
the dawn was breaking in the east.
the white tents OF the enemy greeted
her vision. Higher and higher rose
the god OF day. Would there yet be
timer Faster and faster she spurred
the weary steed. until in the distance
she saw group of men file out and
knew the hour for the fatal volley was
at hand. Sho raised her handker-
chief; she shouted aloud. All in vain.
But now the camp was reached. She
saw the solitary figure standing so
bravely before the muskets which |
waited but the word to deal death to
his young life.
'Gordon!" she cried; and at tho
sound OF her voice, which for the first
time uttered his name. he turned
The paper futtered in her hand as
The one word "One!" rang out on the
summer air.
Stop" she commanded; then sped |
ike an arrow from its bow. and threw
herself upon his breast
She had not heard the order
'Firer not seen the hasty gesture
with which he would have undone his |
work. Too late! one solitary bullet
destined for Gordon Graham's heart
'ound its way into the white, quivering
lesh OF the girl who had ridden TO her
leath