The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1898-07-15

| believe she would have been glad
| that he too was dead.
One July morning she came down
to breakfast looking more wan and
haggard than usual
Il had a strange dream last night, "
she said. Il thought Charley stood
beside me with his rod in his hand las
he used to when he was going out to
fish. was putting up his lunch, and
he was joking with father, as If the
war had never been. 1t was all just
as it used to be-"
And it will be again" said father,
heartily. Don't lose your trust in
God, mother
Il shall never see Charley again."
she said; ''if he should come home it
would be TO certain death"
Our house was at that time encir.
cled by troops; not regular troops, but
the rabble and followers of a great
army that was encamped a few miles
to the north. Until now the officers
| had protected us from outrage; but
change in the position of the forces
had left us without their authority.
Just as we were rising from the
table, Dutton, the coachman, opened
the door. The hollows about his jaws
were gray with terror.
"Dey's come, massa. Dey's takin'
| de last OBJ de horses out OBJ de stable!"
My father was an old man and a
cripple. He only wheeled his chair
| to the door and waited in silence. A
tramping of armed men was heard
upon the gravel walk. The next
moment a dozen sturdy fellows, with
| bloated faces, pistols at their belts
and rifles in hand, dashed open the
door. They paused, daunted by my
| fathers calmness and GOODNESS.
Hubbard. You're Judge Hub
bard, chr" clustered the foremost.
THAT is my name.n
"Well, you've got to deliver up your
arms and live stock to us for the use
of the army.
II have no arms. You have taken
my horses and cattle; notn-his color
risng-''for the use of the army, but
for thieves and murderers who plum
der on their own account"
Father, Father my mother
whispered in terror, laying her hand
upon his arm, I'VE are at their
mercy"
The old cock crows well,'' laughed
the leader, but it's the young fowl
we want"
w udI 10 you IIl6dn.
Your son Charley has been seen |
prowling about the neighborhood. |
We've orders to take him and hang |
him to the nearest tree"
My mother put her hands before |
her and said: MY son is dead
For a moment even these ruflins
were silent.
We'll soon see about that" cried !
the tor, most. Come, bOYS,'
They rausacked the house. The !
family conld offer no opposition, be- /
ing but women and children, with
two old weak men to guard ~.
Ny father st Trembling vi II rage |
and shame. Poor OH Dalton stood be-
hind him. The negrur, hal all gone.
Nobody was left but Iacob. duly at |
work as usual in the stable, tor he had |
turned into a man-of all work when |
left alone.
He came out from the stable and 60
ing to the door of his shanty sat down
and lighted his pipe.
He would not move if they blew |
him up with pitard,n cried Sue,
whose knowledge of warlike instru
ments was but hazy.
Presently they came up to him.
Hi, Dutchy. we've heard of you.
w >
II goes for mein own side"
80 do we. Stand out of the way. |
We want to go into this cabin"
"Nein; dish ish mein house, calm |
ly.
Get up, you pig" prodding him |
with the point of his sword.
"Oh, yaw! gets up slowly rising |
and putting his hands into his capa-
cious pockets. He drew out couple |
of revolvers, and pointing them full |
in the faces of his assailants.
II gets up and-I fires
He did fire-once, twice, it seemed |
to HE dozen times, turning sharply |
from one side to the other. The men
staggered back dismayed. Two fell |
and were dragged off by the others.
Like all other DULLES, they were COW
ards. For moment they hesitated,
as if uncertain whether to take the
German by storm or take totheir heels.
A singing bullet in the leaders arm
decided the day in favor of Iacob.
They fired a few scattering shots as
they retreated, but did not face the
determined Dutchman again. | saw
him totter as the last man fired, but
he recovered himself, and stood with
the same stolidity and regularity with
winch he udullneTeu III d DSdu- pore.
With oaths and yells the men hur-
ried down the road. We ran out
Yacob laid on the floor pale and ghast-
". Ny mother raised his head.
He is dyingm she said.
"Why did he throw his life away
for the old shanty?" cried Sue i'm
patiently.
Yacob shook his head. Not de
house."
The same thought came to us both. |
We pushed the door open. On the |
bed lay paliid skeleton of II man
our brave. handsome Charley. For |
more than a month Iacob had hid |
him there, afraid to trust even his
mother with the secret.
If the faithful German had died for
his friend, it would have been but one
of many such sacrifices which that
test-time had again brought from
men.
But Charley lived, and is now a
sturdy farmer on the Shenandoah.
Yacob is his steward and partner
known to all the countryside as the
ugliest, shrewdest, and most honest
mon in the valley