The watchman and southron. [volume] (Sumter, S.C.) 1881-1930, 1894-07-21

| Having made the Spdnidrd ds fast as
could.
not-I mean that am going home, as it
grows late. But, say, why do you run so
| fast, and what has happened to you,
Thomas, that your arm is bloody and you
carry a sword in your hand?'
II have no breath to speak yet 1 an
swered "Come back to the hawthorns,
and will tell you
'No; T must be vending homeward l
have been among the trees for more than
an hour, and there is little bloom upon
| them. ~
ST could not come before, Lily. was
kept and in strange manner; also saw
bloom as ran
Indeed I never thought that you would
come, Thomas" she answered, looking
down, ''who have other things to do than
to 90 out Maying like girl But I wish
to hear your story, if it is short, and 1 will
walk a little way with you
So we turned and walked side by side
toward tie great pollard oaks, and by the
time that we reached them had told her
the tale of the Spaniard, and how he
strove to kill me, and how had beaten
him with my staff. Now, Lily listened ca
gerly enough and sighed with fear when
she learned how close had been to death.
'.But you are wounded, Thomas!' she
broke in. ''See, the blood runs fast from
| your arm. Is the thrust deep?"
.'I have not looked to see. have had no
| time to look"
'sTake off your coat, Thomas, that
may dress the wound Nay, will have
| it so.''
So drew off the garment, not without
pain, and rolled up the shirt beneath, and
there was the hurt-a clean thrust through
the feshy part Of the lower arm. Lily
washed it with water from the brook and
bound it with her kerchief, murlnuring
words of pity all the while To say truth,
| I would have suffered worse harm glad
| ly if only could find her to tend it. In
deed her gentle care broke down the fence
| Of my doubts and gave mo a courage that
! otherwise might have failed me in her
| presence. At first indeed could find no
words, but as she bound my wound bent
down and kissed her ministering hand.
! She flushed red as the evening sky, the
flood of crimson losing itself 1T last be-
meath her auburn hair, but it burned deep
est upon the white hand which had kiss
ed.
why did you do th::ss, Thomas?' she
said in a low voice.
Then I spoke. II did it because love
you. Lily, and do not know how to begin
| the telling of my love. love you, dear,
and have always loved, as l always shall
love you
Are you so sure of that, Thomas?' she
said again.
'tThere is nothing else in the world OF
which I am so sure, Lily. What wish
to be as sure of is that you love me as
love you.
For moment she stood quiet her head
sunk almost to her breast. Then she lift
ed it, and her eyes shone as had never
seen them shine before
"Can you doubt it, Thomas?" she said.
And now I took her in my arms and
kissed her on the lips, and the memory OF
that kiss has gone with nc through my
long life and is with me yet, when, old
and withcrcd I stand upon the borders Of
the grave 1t was the greatest JOY that
has been given to me in all my days. Too
soon, alas! it was done, that first pure kiss
of youthful love- and spoke again, some
what aimlessly:
SIT seems, then, that you do love mc
who love you so well?''
IF you doubted it before can you doubt
it now?'' she answered very softly. But
1 listen, Thomas. It is we'll that we should
love each other, for we were born to it and
have no help in the matter, even If we
wished to find it. Still, though love be
sweet and holy, it is not all, for there is
duty to be thought of, and what will my
father say to this, Thon,as:''
II do not know, Lily, and yet I can
guess. am sure, sweet, that he wishes
you to take my brother Goeffrey and leave
me on one side" :"
s'Then his wishes are not mine, Thomas;
also, though duty be strong it is not
strong enough to force woman to a mar
riage for which she has no liking. Yet it
may prove strong enough to keep a woman
from marriage for which her heart pleads
Perhaps also it should have been strong
eno,1oh to hold me back from the telling