Evening journal. [volume] (Wilmington, Del.) 1888-1932, 1892-08-10

funeral in st. Louis. and all mysteries are
cleared up. Ellis is Mia Guthrie's old lover.
Brewster is eXonerated.
begun Tuesday, July % Back numbers at
the Counting RoOm.l
81 saw them today, and can see
them again tomorrow"
Tomorrow? Where" And now the
dark eyes, full Of trouble, glance quick
" mp.
Hear those sounds from below The
shrill voice Of the colonel: Column Of
Tours. Break from the right to march
to the left" The inevitable boom, boom
br-r-oom, boom, boom, Of the drums
Loud plaudits and cheers from the
crowd. Lively applause from thaspor-
tico. Low voice are indistingiisaable
here at the window. Brewster pulls
down the shade; it may shut out the
noise, thin as it is, and so long as one
can't see anything, why have it up?
"Where?" she repeats. II thought
they went east, and that We But She
gets no further. The pearl t-ndant is
rising and falling like a storm tossed
shallop. Her slender fingers are nerv-
ously twisting and untwisting her nlmy
handkerchief. Tramp, tramp tramp,
echoing the drum beats, the column of
tours IS striding away down the APP
plauding thoroughfare. Then, as the
band clears the left flank Of the line and
opens out across the street, joyous,
spirited. ringing, it bursts into martial
song. Where had she hear that intro
duction before? Surely there's some
thing familiar But she has no time to
think of that now.
Il supposed-you never cared for
detached service" she falters But
is it your wounds"
He shakes his head:
"Three months ago | would not have
left the regiment. Now l am better
anywhere away from it.
Oh, Curly Curly "What fools these
mortals beg' You should have sense
enough to see how utterly the situation
has changed. You ought to know that
something more than gratitude has
prompted all old Berrien's clumsy eff
forts at cordially. You ought to see
by Mira. Berrien's unaffected kindness
that the cloud has been dispelled. Why
stand in your own light, victim to this
bumptious pride, striving to persuade
yourself that had it not been for the for
tunes Of war her father would have in
terposed today as sternly and positively
as he did before and she-she would
probably have as meekly, tamely sub
mitted as she did that bitter night of
parting at the gate? Can you never for
give that unresponsive hand, that half
shrinking, constrained goodby?
he is silent, waiting for her reply
He will not look at her, for her beauty
dazzles, almost drives him wild with
passionate love and longing. He has
worshiped her, adOred her as loyal knight
might worship his queen Of love and
beauty. Down in his heart of hearts hei
image has lived through every instant Of
the fierce campaign and reigns there
now, rebel against it as he may. Her
silence d3unts him. If he had thought
to pique or trap her into questioning, ii
was unworthy of his love and her. Her
little hands are clasping now. She has
started, raised her heeS is listening in
tently. Absorbed only in her, IN his
love, in his wrongs, Brewster aas lost all
ear for the thrilling, martial music
growing fainter and fainter down the
street, but the look in her sweet face
startfes him. The color has fled. The
dark eyes are dilating. One little hand
is uplifted, as if to ward off any other
sound. Borne on the night wind the
strains come full and rich upon the ear.
No wonder the girl is silencsS, stunned
Oh, for the elasping mothers arms now
Oh, for the love, the wordless sympathy
that was hers that cold, gray wintry
morning when the battalion with its
loved ones strobe buoyantly away down
the winding road at Pawneel All the
heart breaking sorrow, all the vague
throbbing, Quivering pain, come back tc
her again as now she leans breathless
against the easement listening to the
same sad, sweet, fearful old song;
Love not. love not, ye hapless sons Of clayl
One instant only size stands trembling
there, then great sob surges up in hei
throat, and, burying her face in hei
hands, she bursts away, she runs she
knows not whittier. Out into the de
serted corridor, along the carpeted aisle
she.speeds. Then to her left wide open
brightly lighted, she spies the elevator
and, with the leap Of hunted hare to its
form, she springs within. No one there
She tries TO shut the sliding door, bui
now some one is thore-Brewster-
his one arm is too strong for her two
An instant more and he is with her
blessing the fates that had carried of
the attendant for a surreptitious look at
the departing regiment. With quick de
cision Curly pulls the starting rope, ane