Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1896-12-12
CHAPTER XIII.

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Jack Ormsby did not 60 east by the
first train after the Christmas ball as
had been his purpose, but he saw no
more of the lady of his love. Late that
dreadful night, rousing for few mo-
ments from the stupor into which she
had been thrown by the announcement
that it was her own brother who lay
there downstricken in the midst Of his
career of crime and shame, Ellis Far
rar, little by little, realized the whole
miserable truth, that-he, her brother,
was the man who had wrecked Helen
Daunton's life-Helen, who, to spare
that invalid mother an added sorrow,
had hidden from her the name Of the
man whose brutal blows and curses had
rewarded her love.
More than all did Ellis realize that
the lover, whose loyalty and devotion
she herself had repaid with scorn and
contempt, had suffered her words in
silence rather than betray another wo-
mans confidence and thereby divulge
truth that would overwhelm with shame
all who bore the name of Farrar. Then
1t was that, Historically weeping, she
broke down utterly, and before the set
ting Of another sun the mother and all
the household learned from her lips that
it was all that was left of Royle Farrar
that now lay there, cold and stiff and
still in that bare, echoing ward Of the
old hospital, awaiting the last volleys
and the solemn trumpet salutation to
the soldier dead.
Only a corporal's guard formed the
firing party when, just before sundown,
the remains of Private Graice were laid
in the bleak, snow covered cemetery out
on the rolling prairie, but more than a
dozen men in the crowded garrison
knew by that time that the folds Of the
flag were draped over the mortal re-
mains Of colonel's son.
1t was an awestrlcken group that
gathered about the hospital when the
bearers came forth with their burden
and placed it in the waiting ambulance
and the firing squad presented arms.
The idea of the recreant, the would be
murderer, Tom Graice, being buried
with military honors had not occurred
to the garrison as possibility. Yet
here was the little escort; here were the
trumpeters-the band had been merci-
fully excused; here were pallbearers
from his troop instead of from among
the garrison prisoners, as might have
been ruled when one of their number
died; here were old Terry Rorke and
some of the senior sergeants of the regi-
ment; here indeed, with pallid face, was
young Lieutenant Farrar, with him Mr..
Ormsby, the adjutant, quartermaster,
the surgeon and one or two veteran cap
tains, Major Wayne and even Colonel
Fenton himself! Whoever heard of such
an array as that attending the obesequies
of criminal? Fort Frayne was mysti
fed and talked Of it for hours, but the
story told itself before tattoo, and the
mystery was done.
They had buried the firstborn of the
colonel whom all men loved and honored
and mourned, and old Fenton himself
decided that, as Graice had never yet
been tried and convicted and could nev-
er appear before an earthly tribunal,
he must be considered as innocent and
80 issued the order that no military
honor should be denied except the band.
It was too bitterly cold for them to at
tempt to play, for the valves of the in
struments would freeze at once, and it
was deemed best that no sound of the
dirge music should reach the ears of
Marjorie Farrar. Neither she nor Ellis
knew when the funeral took place,
Mrs. Farrar learning only on the fol-
lowing day, Ellis not until weeks there
after, for. as result of all the long.
gradual strain, eliminating in the shock
of that tragic night and the realization
Of the wrong she had done the honest