Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1899-09-13
CHAPTER XIV.

Now. when the pages of my idle
story have gathered dust, must back
to the pen again and scrape up my
wits for little more of this literary
fitting ten years after our fight from
London.
1t is Barbara who forces me to this,
and 1t was Barbara who begged me to
desist ten years ago. Yes. ten years
have gone since we sat 10 our tall House
in London. and I wrote all these pages
and got the scribe's cramp for my
trouble. To my task, and in spite of
my princess will make it short one.
When the great civil war (of which
every one has now heard) broke out
in England-the commons against the
king-I was called back to Wassmark.
This was much to my displeasure. for
there was never man with whom l
wished more to ride than with Prince
Rupert But the most I could do was
to give Hagart to the prince, and it
was Hagart's fierce charge that SO
many times led those blithe cavaliers
on to victory. He was brave horse
and died on the field. Barbara wept on
his neck before Rupert rode him away
to battle, and, If my voice had not gone
for huskiness, would have withdrawn
my gift at the last moment.
Before the trouble had grown high
in England Captain Castletree and
Marion and my comrade. Tom Bever-
ley, went home to Devon.
Tom drew his sword for the king
and in the first battle did so valiantly
that he was knighted on the field.
Then he and Marion were welded, and
for a long time we heard nothing more
Of them.
The enchanting Lady st. Arnaud be-
came one of the family, and now lives
in the old house, and there is a curly
headed nephew of mine who cuts and
thrusts with his wooden sword at the
hale old baron and who answers to the
name Of D'Artagan.
For three years after our return to
Wassmark my princess and lived in
Blatenburg, but there being no wars I'd
keep my sword from rusting and no
more need to ride on strange adven-
lures, my dreams forever turned to Iss-
tens, Of stout house inside the park.
where might live, and all the lynx
eyed courtiers be id. for jealous
husband am, and with no prospect Of
having cooler head for 80 years to
come.
Barbara, too. was growing weary Of
the homage of the court. So. seven
years ago to the old park of LISTENS we
came, and stones throw from the
door of the Three Shields the masons
and workmen reared us the Cadet 8
Tower, in which ! am now writing.
The greater part of the time. though.
is spent in the old house, and it was
here on clustering winter night that
we heard of Tom Beverley.
We were all gathered about the fire
in the little parlor. The baron dozed in
his chair with his grandson sleeping on
his knee. sat on the great bench be-
tween my mother and Barbara. smok-
ing. and Harry likewise engaged, lying
prone on the hearth rug. The viscount-
ess kneeled beside him, gazing across
his listless body at the fire. Such peace
there never was before at any hearth
among so many persons.
OF sudden we were disturbed by
voices in the great hall. and. before l
could rise to find out the matter. Red
Harding came in. his face working
with emotion. leading a stranger in a
faded horseman's cloak. sprang for
ward, for in the thin, pain drawn face
and the high forehead saw my old
comrade, Tom Beverley.
And while stared at him, an arm q
length off, my mother brushed by me
and took his unsloved hands in hers
"Tom. my boy" che said gently. and
with low cry, the brave fellow hid bis
face on her shoulder.
His story was sad one. Holding
with the kings cause till the last, with
the cause. he and his estates had been
broken. The loyal captain fell in a
skirmish, cut down by three Of Crom-
wells ironsides and few weeks later.
during flight across country to seeh
refuge In woodlands cottage, Lady
Beverley was wounded to death by 9
stray musket ball.
Then. with the light Of hell in hi
eyes, the broken soldier told us how.
in weeks time every man Of the siz
who had Il med that shooting party
had been cut or shot down by his OWE
hand.
He is dead himself now. from the ole
unhealed wounds and exposure. ani
his body lies in the vaults of LISTENS
the brave with the bravo.
Tonight Barbnra aud sit by our FRI
in the CADETS tower, and the vino
goes by with tho noise of gallopin.
horses. My princess is gazing WIN H.,
into the glowing fagots. her soft chez
sssting. on my knee.