The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, 1893-06-23
ROMANCE FTHEW WAR

through which the setting sun shone
like a great copper shield FURNISHED and
ready for combat.
Since early morn the battle had been
in progress, and the carnage was fright
full. Even the sturdiest of the surgeons
had more than once turned pale as they
worked over their improvised operating
tables, and all had felt a sensation of
faintness that they did not care to own.
In one corner of the field when the
fight had been the hottest, in a little
grove Of half q dozen trees at the angle
Of a stone wall, knelt the colonel Of a
New York regiment beside the PROSTATE
form of his own lieutenant, a young
man Of English birth and a great ia
vorite among his comrades. His breath
came slowly and painfully, and when he
strove to speak the lifeblood welled upin
his throat SO as to almost choke all utter
ance
"Creston, my boy" said the colonel in
the low voice which he always used when
in the presence of suffering-for the col
onel wa as kind and as gentle asa woman
to the sick-"is there anything more
that I can do for you-any word or mes
sage that you want to send? For you
know'-
Creston's lips parted with a faint and
almost imperceptible motion, and the
colonel bending low caught the words,
'Lift-me-up."
Raising the dying man to a half sit
ting position, the colonel held him in his
own strong arms and gently wiped the
red froth from his lips.
"Colonel"~E-e words were weak and
low-"my Observation-Disclosures
-inside"-
The exertion was so great that he could
say no more. The colonel, opening the
vest, drew from IN inner pocket a min
iature, the portrait of a young and
beautiful girl, SO beautiful that even
then the colonel could not help gazing
upon the likeness with interest and ad-
miration.
"And this?" he questioned as he held
it up to the eyes of his dying comrade.
The pale face of the sufferer grew
strangely bright when he looked upon
the bit of painted ivory before him.
I'm England" he whispered. "she
1ives-Densmond in Devonshire-youIl
remember-take her this, yourself-no
one else. Find here in Densmond, Anne
liza Burton. Tell her-Id idn't-forget"-
A torrent of crimson lifeblood gushed
from his lips, and all was over. The
colonel arose, folded a blanket and placed
it beneath the head of the corpse. Then
the night winds gathered and whispered
among the trees and brushed with their
dark pinions the bright, cold drops that
stood on the pale forehead of Herbert
Creston.
Already the sun was casting long shad-
ows over the landscape around the pretty
English village of Densmond in Devon
shire, for Densmond was pretty and
everybody said so-that is, everybody
who had ever been there said so. And
as for those unfortunate beings who had
not been there, they were so very much
in the minority that no one ever cared a
straw what they said or thought.
The day had been hot and sultry, and
with the advent of the cooling breezes
of evening every one who could pos
sibly get out Of doors did so, for the air
was delicious nov after the overpower~
ing heat of the day.
Along the dusty highway a man, well
dressed and evidently a stranger in the
country through which he was passing,
was walking slowly, evidently absorbed
in thought. He was about 40, of a
bronzed complexion and dark hair, now
slightly tinged with gray. On the whole
he was far from handsome, nor did the
scar of a saber wound across his fore
head add to his attractions.
just now he paused before a cottage
that stood somewhat back from the pub
lie road, almost buried in flowers, like a
modest and retiring cottage that it was.
Sounds of happy laughter came from an
arbor, concealed by the surrounding
hedge. Colonel Nathaniel Pember paused
but a moment, however, before he opened
the gate.
"Can you tell me" he asked one of the
party Of young girls that met his view
as he entered, "if you know Of any one
residing in this neighborhood by the
name of--of Amelia Burton?'
Eyes, indeed" answered one Of the
young ladies, with a meaning smile, ssbut
you'll havs to hurry, though, for there