Crawford avalanche. (Grayling, Mich.) 1879-19??, 1897-10-21

|tAe crowd. they cleared back : space.
tumbling over one another. and We
managed to close the door and drag
the bars across. Then. az they rushed
up again. on the other side. battering
at the wood with horrid imprecations,
we leaned against the walls. utterly
spent. Our ammunition was gone; we
were all In sorry plight. One of the
Sikhs had sunk down half-insensible;
the Mayor supported himself against
the door, In little better case.
HE pulled himself together with an
effort, looked around at us with q sad
smile, which had yet something Of
pride In 1t, and then he called out for
Mrs. Reeves. He stood there, lingering
his pistol nervously. his brave old face
working. have always thought that
he meant to shoot her down as she
turned the corner, to save her the tor
turing minute of anticipation, but she
must have been near at hand, Tor when
he looked up she was standing on the
bottom step-waiting!
II can never forget that weirdly ter
rible scene. 1t is fixed indelibly on my
brain. The crashing blows laundering
on the door, the Internal yelling of the
fiends outside of 1t, the gloomy land
ing, with the fierce sunlight altering
through the narrow loopholes, the
handful of desperate, doomed men,
wounded and unsightly, the swarthy
faces Of the Sikhs, and, in the midst of
1t all, that fair young woman, her
white dress torn and draggled and
soiled with smoke and blood, her face
utterly calm-standing there, without
trace of fear, waiting for her death.
II am qui>e ready, Major she said
simply.
'The men caught their breath sharp
ly. One of them, big Irishman, gave
loud sob and crossed himself. The
Major could not speak. He made her
low bow--then, raising his weapon,
he shot her through the heart. The
next moment he fell himself, as the
door burst open and the horde rushed
in. The rest you know.
1T Is not a story to talk about. I
never told 1t before for that reason;
but what Bryce said tonight made
my blood boil, and-Why, Bryce!
Bryce! Surely, my dear fellow, you
don't think / meant"
Ives rose abruptly from his chair
and hurried round the table to his
host.
The other men, whose attention had
been riveted on the story, followed his
movements with startled eyes; then
they got up, too, and crowded round In
CONSERVATION.
Bryce had dropped forward with his
arms on the table, his face buried in
his hands. His breath came and went
in long, shuddering sobs that shook
his whole frame, and when they spoke
to him he seemed as If he did not hear.
His vest was disordered, as though it
had been hastily torn open, and on
the table before him lay jewelled
miniature. Ives, glancing at It as he
bent over his friend, drew back with a
smothered exclamation.
Great Heaven!" he gasped, with
paling lips. 1T is she!"
1t was the portrait of a grandly
beautiful girl, with a wistful, perfect
mouth and luminous gray eyes.
Poor Bryce! He had lived and loved
and lost!
The men drew away from him rev.
erently. They did what seemed the
kindest thing, and slipped out of the
room quietly. leaving him alone with
his dead. Not till they reached the
door did even Gordon find his voice,
and then he only said, Poor old
Bryce!"
Ives stood on the doorstep when
they had all gone. He thought of the
stricken man in his lonely room above,
and a great flood of pity welled up in
his heart. Perhaps he, too, had suf-
fered-for he shut the door softly and
went back again to his friend.-Strand
Magazine.