The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1898-02-09
IN TENNESSEE.


summer air the idle loungers on the little
hotel piazza reused themselves into ex-
pectan5 attitudes, an old fashioned car
riage, with sleek horses and portly black
driver, drew up with a flourish to the rear
of the station platform and a party Of
young riders refined in their horses. The
train knew its Importance, and came Ia
zily around the turn and into line with the
little station. AS it came into view the
portly driver glanced scrutinizingly at the
group of young men. Mars Jack, . he
called. SIS you dahS''
The young man addressed turned his
horse toward the speaker. whats want
ed, Uncle Ned?''
would you have de kindness, sab, to
tell de cunnel we's here back of de sta
ton" fun milling in his pockets as he
spoke. "Dese horses am powerful spirited
today" and leaning over apparently to
tighten his grasp on the reins he let fall
small white letter into the young mans
hands.
you're the best Niger alive, Uncle
Ned, and if you'll take an answer tomor-
row III do anything for you" and Jack
Holt looked into the old mans impassive
face
eff you will tell de ounneI, sab, - and
with a safely bow Uncle Ned turned his
eyes trainward, and the young lover, find
ing further speech futile, rode back to his
friends.
you're nightly devoted to that old
niger, Jack, " laughed Frank Tilman as
he drew near, "but Miss Cecilia is a love-
ly girl, and 1 don't blame you, though
what McGavock here will say to you is an
other question. McGavock is not so quick
to speak as to do as the third member
of the group approached angriIy.
Jack laughed. cit is what Miss Cecilia
says that care for, and BIcGavocz, too,
reckon Rut - with 4 0rietr blr1rh his
young face, 81 don't think it is gentle
manly to-
"There she is now" interrupted his
friend; 'the train, I mean, not Miss Ce-
ella, and there's the coIonel-better de-
liver Ned's message, Jack-and there's the
mail, and now the shows over. Who's
for a ride?''
"Not I, thank you" said MoGavock
CURLY. GIVE something to do nearer
home" And with the touch of a spur to
his horse he disappeared.
"You'll have to look out for that fellow,
Jack, said Frank Tilman as his friend
rejoined him. 'He has a devil of a tenn
per and is as jealous as he's hot blooded-"
sob, never mind his temper. Let's gal
1op out to the creek and back
"And find quiet spot to read your let
ter in? You don't think I'm blind, do
your
Cecilia sat by the open window, with her
=
strings, making sweet but uncertain
melody.
"Mars Wayne McGavock, Miss Cecily,"
announced housemaid.
The young man threw himself eagerly
into a chair at her side. ttYou must
know what I have to tell you," he said.
81 cannot hide my love even from COM
mon acquaintance You must know, and
I must have my answer He caught her
hand half roughly. The guitar fell with a
discordant crash to the floor 'Tell me
that you will let me love you, that may
worship you. St. Cecilia call you to my
self-be my saintl''
She drew her hand from him with a
gentle gravity. "Stop, please stopP' she
cried. 81 cannot listen. I am so sorry,
but you muslin think of me so.
"Teu me, - he cried boarsely, els there
some one else? 1 know they limited it here
and there, but I couldn't believe it. Tell
me, does Jack Holt stand between us?''
She bent her head, and unconsciously a
tender light filled her soft eyes It was an
answer stronger than words. Without a
word he turned and left her.
The sun was sinking behind the pines
when Jack Holt left his friend and rode
1eisurely through the pleasant woods to
his fathers plantation The sweet breath
of the pines was about him, and the soft
notes of the wild pigeon were in his ear,
He drew the letter from his pocket and
read it HngeriDlgy. 1t was very simple:
DEAR JACK-I do love you, and you need
never be jealous Of any one again.
Sudden and swift pistol shot rang out
upon the air, and the young rider fell heav-
lily to the ground. The balmy breath Of
the woods touched him lightly, but the
notes of the pigeon were stilled, and on the
brown carpet of the pines were drops Of
human blood. And the night came down,
and the young lover lay chill and motion
less with Cecilia's message close olasped
in his stifening hand.
Miss Cecily, for de Lords sake, Miss
Cecilyl" Uncle Ned came hurriedly up
the steps to where his young mistress sat
upon the broad veranda. His face was
ashen and his eyes were wide with terror.
@ Go in de house, honey; go right awayl'
And as he saw wagon coming slowly up
the long drive he laid his hand appealing
ly upon her arm. go, honey, Mars Jack
wants you to-
"Jack Where is her Is he coming heref
What is the matter2'' As she glanced
down the road she broke away from the
old man. restraining hand.
Frank Tilman walked sadly beside the
wagon. Cecilia gazed upon him with ap-
pealing eyes. You will tell me. You are
his friend, " she cried. ''What is the mat
ter? Is he hurt?' The young man barred
his head reverently.
Miss Cecilia, he is dead. .
Dead she repeated. 'fJack deadl Oh,
no, not deadI' Uncle Ned caught her as
she fell MAY de Lord in his mercy bless
de pore lamb, - he murmured.
When Cecilia's gray eyes opened with
in their gaze again, Jack
Holt had been lying a fortnight in his
grave The summer rains had washed the
stains from the perfumed road, and in the
balLny pines the wild pigeon sang as be-
fore.
Five years later there came from over
the seas a letter to Cecilia. 1t was very
brief and was signed Wayne McGavock: