The Goodland republic. [volume] (Goodland, Kan.) 1891-1907, 1892-08-12
ASTORYOF BLOOD.
sr n. E. BRADDoN.
CHAPTER x.-CoNTINUED.

footsore and dusty but so gentle and so
pretty in their wearinessp Was | not the
first to welcome them to this great city,
which is now the city Of death? Heaven
HELM usi Lie still, and keep your mind
TRANQUIL my friend, and soon as have
given baby his bath-how he loves the wa
ter the dear innocentl-I wilicome and put
q fresh dressing ON that poor arm"
Madame Schubert was surgeon, nurse, in
termediary between tho s,ci-roOm and the
outer world-everythlng to the Durand
household in their affllction.
From his bed in the kitchen Philip heard
Kathleen's return-her feeble voice present.
ly talking in low murmurs with Madame
Schubert. She was safe; she had returned.
Through fire and smoke and carnage she
had passed unframed. Here at least, was
a blessed relief-one burden lifted from
their weary hearts. But he, the husband?
What of him?
Kathleen told Madame Schubert the story
Of her pilgrimage; told how she had knelt
upon the b!OOdstained ground where her
husbands corpse had lain. But the good
Schubert refused to be convinced, would not
see any sufficient evidence of GastOns
death. What did it come to after NIL, this
story which Kathleen had heard in the
Avenue d'Italie? A. young man, nameless,
with dark hair and eyes, had been killed
with the good fathers. But why should that
young man be CASTOR Mortemar?
"There are enough young men in France,
my faith, with dark hair and eyes! Ca nc
mGnque pas" said Madame Schubert.
Has my husband come homer asked
Kathleen.
The good Schubert shrugged her shout
ders and shook her head dCspOndingIy.
''Alas, no."
"Then he is dead-nO matter how or
where. He is dead DO you think that II
he was living he would fOrsake me?" asked
Kathleen.
HE may be prisoner"
Would to God 1t were sol But know;
there is something here" touching her
breast something stronger than myself,
that tells me he fell yesterday-on that
spot"
Kathleen" called voice from behind
the closed door, ''Kathleenw
Rose had heard those murmurs in theneXt
room, and had recognised Kathleen's voice.
Madame Schubert grasped Kathleen's arm
as she was going to answer that call.
Don't go to her yet" she said. "YOu
will frghten her with your CHASTITY face and
your dust-stained gown. She was very i'll
yesterday, weak and feveriSh. She is weak
to-day, but the fever is better. She must
not be agitated in any way. Go to your
room, and wash and change your clothes,
and come down presently looking bright
and happy"
ut will be easv." said Kathleen, with a
CHASTITY smile. Eyes, understand"
And not word about Castor or your
wanderings. We told her nothing but lies
yesterday-tOl her that you were in your
own bed i'll with a cold. Don't undeCeve
her. She is so happy, poor soul, nursing
her first baby. Yet, even in the midst of
her new happiness, she was full of anxiety
about you"
Il will be careful" said Kathleen. 81
think am getting used TO sorrow | ought
to be able to hide it,"
She obeyed Madame Schubert in every
particular, and came back in less than an
hour, fresh and bright in her cl IAN cotton
gown and black silk apron, her lovely hair
brushed to s lky softness, and cOilGd in a
smooth chignOn at the back Of her head.
She smiled as she kissed Rose. She sat be-
side the bed and rocked the baby on her
knees, and talked to him, and COOed Mt him,
trying to awaken some faint ray of intelli-
gence in the little pink face, which seemed
to the mother to be full of soul.
''Do you think he has grown asked Rose
fondly.
II think he is wonderfully improved since
the day before yesterday answered Kath-
leen.
improved" Rose felt inclined tOresent
the word. Could there be room for improve
ment in a being so perfect as that child had
been from the very first hour Of his life?
But Kathleen had vague memories of an
unloyely rcdness and SpottineSs in the in
fant's earliest idea of a complexion, and the
soft rosy tints of to-day seemed to hcr a
marked advance in baby's development,
Rose lay with her face turned towards her
sister, her hand in Kathleen's hand, perfect
Iy happy. Happy in the fulness of herloye,
albeit fort still answered fort with sulen
thunder, and cannon and mtrlilleuse,
OhaSsepot and revolver, still made deadly
music in the streets. There was peace here
for Ross Durand in the narrow circll of
home. She had suffered all anXeties about
the outside world to be ulled 10 rest by
Madame Schubert's cheerful assurances.
And then, since the birth of the Commune,
Paris rad grown accustomed to the sound
of boElbardment, to the smoke Of cannon.
Polichlnelle had made his jokes, the merry
go-rounds had revolved the barrel-organs
flies and drums had sounded cheerily In the
Champs Elysees albeit Versailles was bonn
harding Paris. The roar of guns, the noise
and havoc Of war, had become the everyday
sounds Of the city. Rose, lying in her cur
tanned bed, windows closed and muf1ed,
hardly knew that the guns to-day sounded
louder and nearer.
Philip will go no more tOthe barrcades,
she told Kathleen. HE was wounded in
the shoulder yesterday very slight wound,
praise TO Heavenl but enough to prevent
his fighting any more"
Kathleen heard with a shudder, remem-
bering that file Of prisoners, with fettered
limbs and downcast eyes, pale, despairing,
submissive. She had heard people say that
all who had carried arms against the Re
public would be served thus. 'Pdsses pos
les drmes" The phrase was familiar
enough now. A short shift, and your back
against a wall, citizen, your waistcoat open
sol and eight muZzles pointed at your heart
Where is GastOnT' said Rose presently
''Maman Schubert said he was at the office
nil yesterday. His newspaper is to be re-
viyed now that Paris is more tranquil, she
told me. Are you glad Of that, Kathleen?
hope 30 will not preach revolution am
more. We have had enough Of the Com