The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1893-06-28
ROMANCE OF THE WAR

The battle at last was finished. The
victory was lost and won. And while
the defeated army had fallen back to
take shelter in the woods and mountain
passes the victorious host had en-
camped upon the field of action. A thick
misty haze hung over the landscape,
through which the setting sun shone
like 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 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 littlo
grove of half dozen trees at the angle
of stone wall, lnelt the colonel of a
New York regiment beside the PROSTATE
form of his own lieutenant, young
man of English birth and n 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 was as kind and as gentle asa woman
to the sick-''is there anything moro
that can do for you-any word or mes
sage that you want TO sendf For you
know
Creston's lips parted with faint and
almost imperceptible motion, and the
colonel bending low caught the words,
"Lift-me-up."
Raising the dying man to half sit
ting position, the colonel held him in his
own strong arms and gently wiped the
red froth from his lips.
"Colonel"-the 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 an inner pocket a min
iature, the portrait Of 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" no questioned as he held
it up to the eyes of his dying comrade.
Tho pale face Of the sufferer grew
strangely bright when he looked upon
the bit Of painted ivory before him.
"In England" he whispered. "sh
lives-Densmond in Devonshire-you'
remember-fake her this, yourself-n,
one else. Find here in Densmond, Anne
La Burton. Tell her-I didn't forget
A torrent of crimson lifeblood gushed
from his lips, and all was over. The
colonel arose, folded blanket and placed
it beneath the head of the corpse. Their
the night winds gathered and whispered
among the trees and brushed with theil
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 ant
everybody said so-that is, everybody
who had ever been there said SO. Ant
as for those unfortunate beings who hat
not been there, they were SO very mucl
in the minority that no one ever cared {
straw what they said OF thought.
The day had been hot and sultry, ant
with the advent of the cooling breeze!
Of evening every one who could pos
sibly get out of doors did SO, for the all
was delicious now after the overpower
ing heat of the day.
Along the dusty highway a man, wei
dressed and evidently stranger In tn,
country through which he was passing
was walking slowly, evidently absorbed
in thought. He was about 40, of {
bronzed complexion and dark hair, now
slightly tinged with gray. On the whole
he was far from handsome, nor did thu
scar Of saber. wound across his fore
head add to his attractions.
Just now he paused before cottage
that stood somewhat back from the pub
licyoad. almost buried in flowers, like Q