The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1894-08-04

| GnlngS IlgnC at 0lDley. GOu grant us all
safe return" he added piously and
with deep emotion. II can far better
appreciate our home and happiness than
l could month ago. Now, Ronwick,
tell the captain what you have told us. "
And briefly it was told-how in his
youthful fury he had sworn never again
to set foot within the door of the father
and mother who had so wronged the
poor girl he loved with boyish fervor;
how'ho called down the vengeance of
heaven upon them in his frenzy and
distress; how he had sworn never again
to set eyes on their faces MAY God
strike me dead if ever | return to this
roof until she is avenged May he deal
with you as you have dealt with her!"
was the curse that flew from his wild
lips, and with that he left them, stun
ned He went west, was soon penniless,
and caring not what he did, seeking
change, adventure, anything to take
him out Of his past, he enlisted in the
cavalry and was speedily drafted to the
-th, which was just starting forth
on stirring summer campaign. He
was fine horseman, a fine shot, q man
who instantly attracted the notice of
his officers. The campaign was full Of
danger, adventure, rapid and constant
marching, and before he knew it or
dreamed it possible he had become deep
ly interested in his new life.
Only il the monotony Of month or
two in garrison that winter did the
service seem intolerable. His comrades
were rough in the main, but thoroughly
good hearted and he soon won their es-
TEEN. The spring sent them again into
the field, another stirring campaign, and
here he won his stripes and words of
praise from the lips of veteran general
officer as we'll as the promise Of future
reward, and then the love of soldierly
deeds and the thirst for soldierly renown
took firm hold i'll his breast. He began
to turn toward the mother and father
who had been wrapped up in his future,
who loved him SO devotedly. He was
forgetting his early and passionate love,
and the bitter sorrow of her death was
losing fast its poignant power to steel
him against his kindred. He knew they
could not but be proud of the record he
had made in the ranks of the gallant
--th, and then he shrank and shivered
when he recalled the dreadful words of
his curse, He had made up his mind to
write, implore pardon for his hideous
and unfilial language and invoke their
interest in his career when, returning
to Fort Raines for supplies, he picked
up o New York paper in the reading
room and read the announcement of his
fathers death, "whose health had been
| broken ever since the disappearance Of
his only son, two years before" The
memory of his malediction had indeed
come home to him, and he fell stricken
by sudden and unaccountable blow.
It seemed as though his heart had given
one wild leap, then stopped forever.
Things did not go so we'll after this.
He brooded over his words and believed
that an ayenging God had launched the
bolt that killed the father as punish
ment to the stubborn and recreant son.
He then bethought him of his mother,
of pretty Alice, who had loved him so
as little girl. He could not bring him
self to write, but through inquiries he
learned that the house was closed and
that they had gone abroad. He plodded
on i'll his duties trying year; then
came more lively field work and reyiv-
ing interest. He was forgetting entire
ldy the sting Of his first great sorrow
and mourning gravely the gulf he had
placed 'twiXt him and his
He thought time and again of his
cruel words, and something began to
whisper to him he must see that mother
again at once, kiss her hand and i'm
plore her forgiveness, or she, too, would
be stricken suddenly. He saved up his
money hoping that after the summer S
rifle work at Sibley he might get fur
Tough and go east, and the night he ar
rived at the fort, tired with his long
railway journey and painting after a
long and difficult climb up hill, his
mothers face swan suddenly before his
eyes, and he felt himself going down.
When they brought him to, he heard
that the ladies were Mrs. Maynard and
her daughter, Miss Renwick-his own
mother, remarked; his own Alice, a
grown young woman. This was indeed
news to put him in tlutter and spoil
his shooting. He realized at once that
the gulf was wider than ever. How
could he go to her now the wife of q
colonel, and he an enlisted man? Like
other soldiers, he forgot that the line of
demarcation was one of discipline, not
Of sympathy. He did not realize what
any soldier among his officers would
gladly have told him--that he was most
worthy to reveal himself now, nom
commissioned officer whose record was
an honor to himself and to his regi
ment, a soldier of whom officers and
comrades alike were proud. He never
dreamed-indeed, how few there are
who do-that man of his character,
standing and ability is honored and re.
spected by the very men whom the Gus.
toms of the service require him to speal,
} with only when spoken to. He sup.
posed that only as Fred Renwick could
he extend his hand to one of their mum
Der, whereas, it was under his soldier
name he won their trust and admira
| tion, and it was as Sergeant Mcleod
} the officers of the ---th were backing
hin. for commission that would make
| him what they deemed him fit to be-
their equal.
Unable to penetrate the armor Of re-
serve and discipline which separates the
officer from the rank and file, he neve,
imagined that the colonel would have
been the first to welcome him had lht
: known the truth He believed that now
his last chance Of seeing his mother was
: gone until that coveted commission was