Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1900-11-10
CLARENCE
BY BRET HARTE.

from the room, Brant stopped her
with a coldly courteous gesture:
"You win understand, therefore,
Miss Faulkner, that you have your
wish, and that you will not be expos
ed to any contact with the members
of my military family, nor they with
you.''
sam / then to be d prisoner in this
hohse-and under a free pass of-your
PRESIDENT" she said Indignantly.
by no means. You are free to
come and GO and see whom you
please: | have no power to control
your actions. But / have power to
control theirs"
She swept furiously from the room.
That is quite enough to fill her
with a desire to firt with every man
here" said Brant to himself, with d
faint smile, but 1 fancy they have
bad q taste enough of her quality"
Nevertheless, he sat down and wrote a
few lines to the division Commander,
pointing out that he had already
placed the owners private property
under strict surveillance; that ii was
cared for and perfectly preserved by
the household servants, and that the
pass was evidently obtained as d
subterfuge. To this he received a
formal reply regretting that the
authorities of Washington still found
1t necessary to put this kind of risk
and burden on the army in the field,
but that the order emanated from the
highest authority and must be strictly
obeyed: At the bottom Of the page;
however, was a characteristic line in
pencil III the generals own hand:
Not the kind that is dangerous A
flush mounted Brant's cheeks, as if il
contained not only a hidden but a
personal significance. lie thought of
his own wife.
Singularly enough, Il day or two
later; at dinner, the conversation
turned upon the intense sectional
feeling of southern women-probably
induced by their late experiences,
and Brant, at the head of the table,
in his habitual abstraction, was
scarcely following the somewhat cN-
cited diction of Col. Strangeways, one
Of his staff. mo, sir" reiterated the
indignant warrior, take my word for
1t! a southern woman isn't to be
trusted on this point, whether as
sister, sweetheart, or wife. And when
she is trusted she is bound to get the
better of a man in any of those relai
latlonsl" The dead silence that fol-
lowed, the ominous ioggle of a glass
at the speakers elbow, the quick,
sympathetic glance that Brant in
stinctively felt was directed to his
own face, and the abrupt change of
subject, could not but arrest his at
fanttnn- ANaV, &c Ia Ill ...1-.1A1
the speech. His face, however, be-
trayed nothing. 1t had never occur
red to him before that his family
affairs might be known-neither had
he ever thought of keeping them a
secret. 1t seemed so purely a personal
and private misfortune-that he had
never dreamed of it having any public
interest. And ever now he was a
little ashamed Of what he believed was
his sensitiveness to mere conventional
criticism, which, with the instinct Of
q proud man, he had despised.
He was not far wrong in his sardon-
lie intuition of the effect of his prohi-
bition upon Miss Faulkner's feelings.
Certainly that young lady, when not
engaged in her mysterious occupation
OF arranging her uncle's effects, occa-
sionally was seen in the garden, and
in the woods beyond. Although her
presence was the signal for the cob
lique" of any lounging shoulder
strap" or the vacant front of a post
ed sentry, she seemed to regard their
occasional proximity with less active
disfavor. Once when she had mounted
the wall to gather a magnolia blossom
the chair by which she had assembled
rolled over, leaving her on the wall.
At a signal from the guard room two
sappers and miners appeared, carry
ing a scaling ladder, which they
placed silently against the wall, and
as silently withdrew. On another oc-
casion the same spirited young lady,
whom Brant was satisfied would have
probably imperiled her life under fire,
In devotion to her cause, was brought
ANONYMOUSLY to bay in the field by
that most APPALLING Of domestic ami
mals-the wandering and untamed
cow. Brant could not help smiling
as he heard the quick, harsh call to
turn out guard" saw the men march
ed solidly with fixed bayonets to the
vicinity of the affrighted animal,
who fed, leaving the fair stranger to
vain SIldiilC-ldtCdl1 W VIC HOuSt. lie
was surprised, however, that she
should have halted before his door,
and with tremulous indignation said:
II thank you, sir, for your chival-
rousness in turning a defenseless
woman into ridicule."
"I regret, Miss Faulkner" began
Brant, gravely, that you should be-
lieve that / am able TO control the
advances of farmyard cattle as easily
as" but he stopped as he saw that
the angry flash of her blue eyes, as
she darted from him, were set in tears.
A little remorseful on the following
day, he added a word to his ordinary
cap lifting when he passed her. but
she retained a %reproachful silence.
Later in the day he received from her
servant a respectful request for an
interview, and was relieved to find
that she entered his presence with no
trace of her former aggression-but
rather with the resignation of a deep
ly injured, yet not entirely unforgiv-
ing IN
II thought" she began, coldly, "that
| ought to inform you that | would
probably be able to conclude my bus
mess here by the day after tomorrow,
and that you would then be relieved
of my presence. | am aware. indeed"
she added, bitterly, 81 could scarcely
help perceiving, that it has been an
exceedingly irksome one
81 trust" began Brant, coldly, that
no gentleman of my command has"
NO" she interrupted him quickly,
with a return of her former manner,
and a passionate sweep of her hand,
do you suppose for a moment that 1
I'm speaking--that l nm even thinking
OF them! What are they to me?'
THANK you. / am glad to know that
they r nothing, and that I may now
trust that you have consulted my
wishes and have reserved your ami
mostly for me-" returned Brant, quiet
L. aIf that ic - / 80 e.