Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1893-09-14
CHATTER VI, AND LAST.

uOulItu loI llcl IuSbil't Siic Hlu
loved 50 dearly. Her little child had
learned to say his fathers name.
Lady Trcnham was kinder and more
indulgrnt than ever to her daughter,
whose fair. sad face WAS SO wistful
and pale.
The earl had so far rrlented from his
severity as to speak kindly of the man
who had been her husband. He said
that poor Lionel" had great talents,
IL keen intellect. and rare wit. and
that. had fortune favored him, he
might have made his way in the world.
But us this. the old sorrow, began
slowly to die away. Il new one arose.
The strange, sad mutiny in India had
broken out. and The Queens Own
Rangers" were ordered thither ut once.
No greater blow could have fallen
upon Lord Trenham. His idolized son
and heir. for whom he had saved and
deprived himself Of everything save the
most necdful things of his life-this son
upon whom the fortune of his house
dependrd-was going to certain danger,
if not to certain death.
Nothing could avert the blow. AS an
English gentleman and man of honor.
the young captain could not exchange
or sell out when there was danger in
view: yet. if he should meet his death.
the long and noble line of the Trpn-
hams would end. the estates pass to
another family. and the title become cN-
tinct. Moreover. for this son. for the
future of his race. had Lord Trenham
endured a life of priva1on.
The young heir of Trenham had felt
nothing but pity for his sister. He
for%ave her :mprudent marriage: he
said she had suffered enough when she
told him how dearly she had loved
Lionel in life. and how in death she
loved his memory. He carcSsrd her
tcnIcrly. and said she should not be
trlsrh about Il second marriage, but
should live with him.
The earl and his wife babe Il sOrrow-
full alirTl to the brave and noble Young
officer. who longcd to avrMgc the lnur-
dcrous wrongs inflicted on his country
men. They SAW him depart with heavy
foreb0lln=S and anxious heart.
For many molihs they heard rcsu-
larry from their sen. He DISTINGUISHED
himself greatly in various actions With
the mutincol's. and the name OF Irpn-
ham became Il household word in Eng
land. AT last Il letter came that changed
the course of nl:,ny lives.
You may kncel. dear ones. and thank
heaven for me that l still live" wrote
Berthe. The dying and dead lie around
me: yet | am Slveh-saved by the brave
and daring hrroiSm Of 4 man who is us
nobl" as he is courageous. But for
him | should have been lying here. With
the sunbcams falling upon my dead
Lace: bat for him the hand pen
ming these lines would have hern
cold and still--the heart SO full of
gratitude to heaven and to him.
SO full Of love to You. would have
ceased to beat. Under God ] owe
him MY life. Let me tell you my
story.
"On the eighteenth was fought a
BATH, of Which You will all hear at
home. Our regiment was ordered into
action, and we had to pursue the
enemy. The military details of my
story Will not interest you: they will
be printed by Il moro able hand.
In the heat Of the pursuit l rode
somewhat ahead Of my troop. Sud
denly l found myself surrounded by
S"r"yS-;'"ath in their flaming eyes
and dark faces. 1t seems to me now
like q terrible ghoStly dream.
Il fought my WAY with the dospera
ton q Z doomed man. -Four OF my
enemies were disarInel and wounded:
the iiii.I. by a sudden blow. forced my
sword from my hand. | gave myself
VI for lost. He struck at me With 4
long sharp dagger: bat it fell upon an
other breast. My life for his. 1
heard some one say. \ man in hot
haste had flung himself before me.
I hardly knew that | WAS saved until
l felt lis warm blood flow over me:
and LAY m"h. crowding round, raised
him from the ground.
Il WIS wounded, sick and giddy.
vet not so ill as to forget his words
My life for his WHO was he? What
had I done that nc should give his
life for mine?
Take care of that man. I said to
Capt. hecve-'le has saved my life
at the risk Of his own
He is dead said one of his COM
rades. But nO-life still fingered, de-
spit" the horrible gaping wound.
Il remember no more for some days.
When memory and sense both re-
turned. my first thought was of the
man who had offered his life for mine.
He still lived, but his life hung upon a
lultdu. !lShtl iiEdllE quC.SLlOilS dDOul
him. They told me his name was
William Larson. and that he enlisted
more than Il year ago. There was
evidently some mystery about him.
for he had the manners. the education.
the refinement Ct Il high-bred gentle
man. He spoke but little, and was
fearlcssly braTc-brave even to reck-
lessncSs. seeming to court rather than
to avoid death.
"Onc day. when I was able for the
first time to walk and resume some Of
my old habits. Doctor MOntrOSe came
up to me. He told me that the man
] had inquired so much about WAS
dying and that if ] wished to thank
him for saving my life l must see him
that evening. 1t was growing dusk
then. and / followed the surgeon. The
poor fellow l:;y quite still upon his
bed. / bent over him and whispered
my thanks. / am no coward. but tears
ran down my face rs | saw the parchcd
lips noted the short. quick breath,
and knew that my life was purchased
by lis.
"'Do rot thank me- he said, family;
fn 80. | only