Tazewell Republican. [volume] (Tazewell, Va.) 1892-1919, 1897-05-06

G. ECSSCSSCSSSSC GtStG&}&j> - * y
IIyidcnjIy lais was no vulgar ASSASSIN.
The liberal military code makes pro-
vision for hanging many kinds OF peo-
pie. and gentlemen are not excluded.
The preparations being complete, the
two private soldiers stepped aside and
each drew away tine plank upon which
lie had Eeen standing. The sergeant
turned to the captain, saluted, and
placed himself Immediately behind that
officer. who in turn moved apart one
pace. These movements left the con-
demned man and the sergeant standing
on the two ends of the same plank,
which SPAWNED three of the cross-ties
cf the bridge The end upon which the
civilian stood almost, but not quite,
reached a fourth. This plank had been
held in place by the weight Of the cap
tain; it was now held by that of the
sergeant. At a signal from the former,
The latter would step aside, the plank
would tilt ard the condemned man
would go down between two ties. The
arrangement commended itself to his
Judgment as simple and effective. His
face had not been covered nor his eyes
handaged. He looked moment at his
"unsteadfast footing" then let his gaze
wander to the swirling water Of the
stream racing madly beneath his feet.
A piece of dancing driftwood caught
his attention, and his eyes followed it
down the current. How slowly it APP
peared to move! What a sluggish
stream!
He closed his eyes in order to fix his
last thoughts upon his wife and chill
dren. The water, touched to gold
by the early sun, the brooding mists
under the banks at some distance down
the stream, the fort, the soldiers, the
piece of drift-all had distracted him.
And now he became conscious of new
disturbance.
He Enclosed his eyes and saw again
the water below him. eff could free
my hands" he thought, IT might throw
off the moose and spring into the stream.
BY diving could evade the bullets, and,
swimming vigorously, reach the bank.
take to the woods and get away home.
My home, thank God, is as yet outside
their lines; my wife and little ones are
still beyond the invaders farthest ad-
vance"
AS these thoughts, which have here
TO be set down in words, were flashed
into the doomed mans brain rather
than evolved from it, the captain nodded
10 the sergeant. The sergeant stepped
aside.
Peyton Fazquhar was well-to-do
planter. of an old and highly-respected
Alabama family. Being a slave owner,
and, like other slave owners, q poll
tician, he was naturally an original Sc
cessionist and ardently devoted to the
southern cause. Circumstances of an
imperious nature, which it is unneces-
sary to relate here, had prevented him
from taking service with the gallant
army which had fought the disastrous
campaign ending with the fall of Cor
inth, and he chafed under the inglorious
restraint, longing for the release of his
energies, the larger life of the soldier,
the opportunity for distinction. That
opportunity, he felt, would come, as it
comes to all in war time. Meanwhile
he did what he could. No service was
too humble for him to perform in aid
Of the south, no adventure too perilous
for him to undertake if consistent with
the character of a civilian who was at
neart soldier, and who in good faith
and without too much qualification as
Bented TO at least a part of the frankly
villainous dietum that all is fair in love
and war.
One evening while FarquhaT and his
wife were sitting on rustic bench near
the entrance to his grounds a gray-clad
soldier rode up to the gate and asked for
a drink of water. Mrs. Farquhar was
only too hannx to -seEze- him With her