The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1896-06-27

a portion of the troop, that is. Men
ran by alone, or leading horses; order
lies galloped beneath the shadow of the
trees. Shaking with cold, she stood
there, her heart seeming numb and still.
From the open doors of the soldiers
quarters fell bars of light, and uni
formed figures passed in and out, for
ward and backward. She saw Taunton
run along and hurry to his house. In
five minutes he was back again in scout
ing-clothes. All this the light from the
barracks showed her. When he had
started for his quarters, she had wav-
cred for second, almost determined
to go to him and tell him she would do
as he wished. But, as usual, it ended
In indecision. 1t would be all right
when he came back, it would be time
enough then. She threw up her arm
and brushed away black, flying thing,
whose big, soft wings had touched her
cheek.
The music had stopped and begun
again, and again stopped while she
stood there. People had passed her by,
going out, but they had not seen her
in the shadows of the corner.
There came a sudden silence. The
leaves of the trees stopped their whis-
perings, the wind died away in the
night, the voices about ceased their
murmurings, the rain-drops chung to
the branches; and out from the silence
came the word of command which all
the garrison and the rigid woman were
waiting to hear: Prepare to mount.
Mount"
A clash of accoutrements, tramp
ling of hoofs, the wind blew fresh once
more, the leaves rustled and shook
down the drops, and the world went on.
The woman brushed her hair from
her eyes, gathered up her skirts, and
walked home alone.
1t was beautiful morning after the
storm. Every one was on the porches
watching guard-mounting with as
much interest as il it had never been
gone through before, deeply engrossed
in the choosing of the commanding Of
ficer's orderly.
y second lieutenant sat upon the
steps of Capt. Rossini's quarters. beside
the captains fair daughter, who was
smiling and talking in her old lively
way. The second lieutenant reflected
that she could not have been much in
love with Taunton after all; she seemed
in nowise depressed by his absence on
an expedition which was not quite safe.
at best. The second lieutenant gathered
hopes, for there was q lingering fond
ness for the pretty creature in his own
heart.
So they talked and laughed and
watched guard-mounting in the sun
shine of the cool morning. When il
was overland the adjutant, and officer of
he day and the ex-officer of the day were
going their ways, there came sound of
the hoofs of galloping horse, and n
courier from the agency drew up at the
commandments quarters, while the peo-
pie on the porches craned their necks
and strained their ears in vain at
tempt to hear the mud-splashed mans
message.
The Rossinis' house was next to the
commanding officers. Lucia jumped
up and ran down near the courier.
Lucia! come back here! What do
You mean?" Numbered the captain, in
dulging in some assorted oaths.
She wheeled about and faced him.
II am going to see what has happened
to my husband" she said, deliberately.
and did not wait to notice the look on
his dark face. The second lieutenant
leaned against the rai)ing fo- support.
The courier's wo-ds were low; but
Lucia heard tbs tidings of death rs
plainly as il he had shouted them aloud.
She fushed-and then turned very pale.
There came queer thud in her heart
and whir in her head, and all she saw
was thousands upon thousands of black
butterflies that flew around her. She
laughed and put up her hands to seize
them, bit at them, struck at them,
shook her clenched fists at them, fight
ing off the dull wings that only herself
could see.-Gwendolen Overton, in San
Francisco Argonaut.