, 1898-11-04
watched her did not know when sleep

Her death certainly reused Horace
Temple; it reused him into greater ten.
derness for his children. Before thdf be
had been eontented to see them morning
and night, then leave them to their moth
er's care, now he tried his best to be faith
or and mother both.
Violante was easily managed; she had
lessons at home, superintendent by him,
and the result was the strangest educa-
ton Il yotsng lady ever received. She
learned Latin; she was well versed in the
English classics; the history, the litera-
tire of her own country, were all famil-
lar to her; she could draw with exquisite
skill; she sang nothing but old English
ballads, but those she sang with the pur-
est. sweetest voice, with a wondrous pow
er of expression that completely charmed
all who heard her.
The boy BERTHE Jared better than bis
sister; his vocation, even in early life,
was settled. He would be nothing but a
soldier. In vain Horace Temple painted
the delights of the law, the church, the
civil professions; he would have none OF
them.
To his same regiment belonged Captain
Vivian Selwyn, the nephew and heir OF
Lord Huldibrand Selwyn of Selwyn Cas-
tie, a brave, noble, generous young OH
Ger, perhaps better liked than any in the
service; a man beloved by all, by com-
rades and men; a man whose heart and
hand were ever open to help, to relieve,
and to assist.
The fair-haired young ensign looked up
to Captain Selwyn with something IKE
alteration; he thought him the grapdest
man, and the greatest hero the world ever
saw. He was happy for days II the cap
tain spent ten minutes in talking to him.
The time came when the Queens
Own were ordered off to India, and. Hors.
ace Temple bade his only son farewell.
The quiet, reserved, solitary man never
knew until that m0ment how dear MS
children were to him-he had not realized
it.
There was a rebellion among the ma
tive troops, and the "Queen's Own were
ordered off to quell it. 1t SO happened
that the commanding officer, Major Threl-
ton, wanted to send some important pa
pers to Madras. They were papers that
had been taken from an Indian chief
made captive, and related to q conspiracy
spread far and wide among the native
troops.
1t was the youngest of them all who
offered to go-Ensign Temple. They call
ed him BERTHE and Beauty among them
selves, because of his fair, boyish face
and golden curls. But there was not one
among them whose heart did not beat
faster when the young hero stood up and
asked if the dangerous duty might be his.
They gave him the papers, he went
out; four soldiers went with him. They
rode out of camp one morning while the
haze of heat covered the sky like a thick,
coppery mist, and never a one returned.
They were half way to their journeys
end when they met the detachment of ma
tives sent out by the rebels to waylay
them and regain the papers. Ensign Tenn
pie, with a deep saber cut on his brow,
with innumerable wounds on his chest,
his neck and arms, managed to escape.
He rode into the camp, and lived long
enough to redeem his promise to place in
the hands of Gen. Vinay the dispatches in
trusted to him, non the less precious that
they were bathed in his blood~
1t was night when he arrived, and the
general was surrounded by his staff. They
were grim old warriors, most of them;
but to this day they tell with trembling
lips of the bright-haired boy who rode so
suddenly into the camp, streaming with
blood, with death in his brave young face.
They tell how he placed the papers in the
generals hand, and fell at his feet, saying
with the smile of a child:
"You will tell them at home that / did
my duty"
There was a stir among them. Dark,
bronzed faces grew pale and quivered as
they raised the boy and carried him away
to die.
But there was one happiness in store
for him. News reached Major Threlton
that the young ensign and his little troop
had been waylaid. Captain Selwyn, with
a small body GO men, was sent after him
at once, and the captain was just in time
to see the young hero die.
They had laid him under the shade of a
large palm tree. The evening sun had
set, and as though in mercy to him, a
cool, calm breeze had risen.
"Ah, c~aptain!' said the boy; 81 longed
to see your face and touch your hand once
more. You nave always been my hero,
and / have loved you so well. You will
go back to England some day; promise
me that you will go and see my father,
that you will say with my last breath |
sent him my love; tell my sister Violante
/ thought of her as l lay dying, with in
finite love, and tell them for me that |
died a soldiers death, doing my duty as
soldiers do. / told my father | might live
to be a general. but my laurels are few,
and / nave gathered them young. Captain
Selwyn, I am not afraid of death, but
will you let me hold your hand while l
dieT'
And Captain Vivian Selwyn-used as
he was to sickness, to wounds, and death
felt his face grow white and his lips
culver, as he stood by and watched the
young soldier die. Tears filled his eyes
as he noted the deep crimson wound on
the fair young brow.
Heaven bless him" he said with rever-
ent lips. England may well be proud of
hen soldier sons, when they live and die
like him" ~.
With his own hands he cut off two Of
the golden curls, resolving to keep them
until he returned home, and then to take
one to his sister, and one to the father of
A. -o,o. Aar0 ~rhApo tho -