Hutchinson gazette. [volume] (Hutchinson, Kan.) 1895-1902, 1897-11-18

in her daughters face; then she sadly
with a loving smile: n
Il ken one man that has the heart
of king-ay, Of an angel, Marjorie y
who, mother?"
"Who but Johnnie Sutherland? my
blessings on the lad! But for him,
should have lost my BARN forever, and
it was for his sake, Marjorie that 1
wished ye were a widow indeedp'
Marjorie flushed deep crimson and
turned her head away. Sutherland's
answering devotion had not failed to
touch her deeply, and she understood
it now in all its passionate depth and
strength; but she still felt herself UNI
der the shadow of her old sorrow, and
she knew that the tie which bound her
to Caussidiere could only be broken by
death.
Thus time passed on, until the dreary
desolate winter Of that terrible year.
so memorable to France and French.
men, set in with all its Vigor. There
was little joy for Sutherland. Indeed.
his trials were becoming almost more
than he could bear, and he was wonder
ing whether or not, after all, he should
leave his home and Marjorie, when
there came a piece of news which fair
ly stunned him.
1t came in the shape of letter and
a paper from his Partisan artist friend.
The letter, after a few preparatory
words, ran as follows: "
you may be shocked, but I hardly
think you will be sorry to hear Of the
death of your little friends husband,
Leon Caussidiere. He disappeared in a
most mysterious manner, and is sup
posed to have been privately put to,
death. What he was, Heaven knows!
but he mixed a good deal in politics,
and judging from what you told me
about him, l shouldn't be at all sur
prised to hear that he was spy. Well,
at any rate, whatever he was he is gone
peace be to his soul, and fancy the
world will get on good deal better
without him than with him. At any
rate, certain part Of 1t will, I know!
With this 1 send paper, that you may
read the official account Of the death
of your friend, and know that there
is no mistake about it."
Having finished the letter, Suther-
land turned to the paper-glanced
down its columns; came upon mark
ed paragraph, and read as follows in
the French tongue:
"Caussidiere, holding an officers
commission under the Committee Of
Public Safety, has been convicted Of
reasonable practices and put to death.
He was tried by military tribunal, and
executed yesterday
Sutherland put down the paper and
held his hands to his head; he was
like a man dazed. Was he glad? No,
he would not allow himself to feel glad
to rejoice in the death of fellow
creature, even though he was his en-
envy.
And yet, if Caussidiere was dead,
Marjorie was free. The very thought
seemed to turn his brain. He put both
the letter and the paper in his pocket,
and went up to his room. He could not
work, but he sat down among his picF
ures and tried to think.
What must he do? Go to Marjorie?
No. he could not do that--for she would
detect the joy in his face and voice,
and her sensitive nature would recoil
from him, and that he could not bear.
He must not see her; other lips than
his must tell the news.
He remained all the morning shut
up in his room, but in the afternoon
he left the house, and walked slowly
across the fields toward Annandale
Castle.
(To BE CONTINUITY