Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1898-06-07

nation, Mamie We nad 10 tell them
something to get away from them.
Thou foolish virgin, thou puttest no oil
in thy lamp. and-see"-
She swung the lantern in her right
hand at ann length 1t fared. flicker
ed and expired just as they were enter
ing q small grove Of thorns where the
slaves burying ground WAS located.
They were left in total darkness
Mercy" Mamie gave a smothered
scream and violently en-. 49, cd her in.
trepid leader.
Lets 60 back. Liza Please let'a
turn hack
"No. 1 am going forward. You may
60 back II you choose.
Choose never expect to choose
anything ON earth again Life has re-
solved itself into one great big. horri-
BILE must
Poor little Mamiei But indeed We
are in no more danger just because our
lantern went out "
perhaps not, but should like to get
one glimpse Of the man who is going to
murder us--just one might be called
on to identify him in the next world.
You know
Listen hear voices now We are
almost there "
They stood still, quite close together,
,,,t. hot vt0 0.
orously Upon the skirt Of Liza basque
Singing
"Yes. staging That is encouraging
Do you suppose men can sing when they
are meditating murder
do DO serious, Mamie Here, give
me you hand Now. step up-one,
two. three The weeds have about tax
en- these steps Now then-wait We
have a right to eavesdrop"
Call It reconnoiter. These are war
times. They've pitched their camp right
by Gabriella's tomb. see the fire, not
much Of one. They re just building it. "
Liza shifted her own position with
noiseless restlesnesS
THAT big tree trunk is between me
and everything. The song that had
foated to them across the wasting fields
Of cotton had ceased abruptly, and the
only audible sounds within the shrub
choked inclosure was the swapping Of
dried sticks broken by an unseen hand
TO feed the new made fire. Presently
vigorous revealing flame sprang into ex-
istence. giving the entire scene to the
two pair Of eager eyes peering over the
rusty spikes Of the iron graveyard gate.
With their lips close to each others
ears they exchanged items Of excited
comment
There are two Of them"
"A black man and q white one.
1.-THE white one certainly looks a. II
he belonged to graveyard. What
dreadfully hollow cheeks! And, oh, Lii
IA, look! His poor knees He is hug
ging them 50 close they are actually
showing through his trousers.
~ wish he would push his hat back. II
I could see his whole face, | might
make out who he is 1t can't be Adrien
Strong
"Adrien Strong! Heavens, no! Adri-
en- Strong is dandy. oh, isn't that
Just too heart breaking?'
Without the movement of q muscle,
with his head still dropping forward so
that nothing was visible but the thin.
hollow cheeks and the long uncared for
beard that almost touched the frayed
knees Of his ragged, gray trousers, the
man had begun a new song.
A plaintive, simple ballad, already
grown hackneyed about the campfires,
where countless war weary heroes, rest
ing beneath the sentinel stars, with nc
shelter other than the dark blue canopy
Of the midnight skies, let their home
sick fancies wander back TO the dear
ones left behind with an exquisite an
guish Of longing that found utterince
in song But TO those two listening,
watching girls it was all new and fresh
and thrilling
"Who will care for mother now;"
sang the wan faced wayfarer, resting
there beneath the laurel tree that shed
its blossoms over the silent sleepers i'll
the little graveyard-sang It in the per
functory fashion Of one who performs
deed more from force Of habit than from
any conscious effort, but his voice was
clear and sweet. and no false note jar
red upon the music loving ears Of his
auditors
Mamie, silently weeping, softly sub.
sided among the weeds on the cemetery
steps and buried her head in her lap. II
was torture, but she would not lose one
note Of that sweet, weird melody for
| worlds
Liza. bent upon Identification, main
tanned her stand at the gate. When the
song was ended, she would go in boldly
and question that forlorn trespasser
touching Adrien Strong, who was to
come home in state some day, panoplicd
in his battle worn laurels, brighter and
fresher laurels than those whose glossy
leaves, stirred by the night wind. now
waved their dark bannerets over that
wandering minstrel in tatters
There was a movement on the other
side of the large beech tree that hid a
section of the little camp from her. a
third party had been introduced into
the mystery. and the singer was inter
rupted by a slow, deep voiced protest
Come, old chap, that ditty is dole
full enough when sung by dozen fell
lows around roaring campfire, but
just now and just here it is too much
even for my nerves"
The singer glanced mp at the speaker
with knitted brows, as if strenuously
endeavoring to link words and meaning
together, gave up the effort with a pa
thetic smile and resumed his grooming
with renewed energy.
"Adrien! Stop that, old man. you II
soon be where your mother can care for
you. Do you know where you are. old
chap?"
At this new surprise Mamie had
sprung to her feet and stood by Liza,
whose hands were rigidly locked about
the iron spikes She was trembling yio-
lently, and her smothered exclamation
Of Mortified surprise was barely audible.
my God! IL cannot be! Adrien
Strong come to that? 1t is too horribleP
"But the other one. Liar"
The darkness mercifully hid Liza $
cheeks from view. They were aglow
with the quickening Of her pulses On
ly her starlike eyes told Of her intense
excitement as she tugged at the rusty