The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1901-09-06

blood. Never again! If you were
man, it would be your country-to be
shot and buried in. You are lucky that
my father and not the general discov-
cred your treason, spy"
Martha shivered, and the veldt swan
in her eyes. Dom Jan cried "Traitress,"
and Peter, her own young brother, call
ed her "spy."
Brother, brother" she stammered
piteously, 81 told him alone-the man
who is to marry me"
Peter laughed loudly.
''Marry! Marry you! When that YER
domter uitlander knows he has got out
of you all the information he ever can
get, he will -despise you"
The boy was not naturally brutal any
more than her father, Jan de Kalb, had
ever before been harsh with her.
Martha at her brothers words began
to realize for the first time how great
was her sin in the eyes of her own
kinsfolk. She had hidden her love from
her mother. That was an offense, but
trivial
She had loved an Engiishman. That
was serious She had sent news of the
army to her English lover. That was
more than objectionable. Henceforth
she was an outcast. "God, country,
home"-all had been sinned against.
No Boer could forget that; no Boer
could ever forgive that.
cat least let us part in kindness,
brother Peter" she cried in despair,
and he answered, without looking at
her:
"You have no brother!'
1t was dark when they drove into old
Van Belts farmyard, but lanterns were
moving about in the shadows, and
voices were calling to each other in,
subdued excitement. The farmer HIM
self came up to the cart in surprise,
very old man.
Are the rooineks in Springbokfon-
teinY he asked, with alarm ''Has
Martha come to me for safety?"
s'No, no, Oom," Peter answered hur-
riedly. "She needs good horse. She
has far to go. Dom Jan, my father,
sends her on important business. No
one else can go-eyery man from the
village is with the army, and 1 must
hurry back to join them"
sour maidens are brayer' cried the
old man proudly. when God gives
even the girls such strength of heart,
we shall surely conquer in his name.
You shall have my best horse, Martha,
but wait and have your coffee first"
Martha tried to press Peters hand in
recognition of the unexpected kindness
with which he had saved her from
more shame, but he roughly drew it
away, as if himself ashamed at dis
playing SO much mercy. They went
into the house, and there surprise
awaited them. Old Van Belts only
son lay on bed grieyously wounded.
The farmer spoke of him with solemn
quietude.
'"They just brought him home before
you came" said the old man, who had
bled many time himself for father
land and was now content to offer up
his boy at the altar. 'The fighting has
begun. There have been one or two
skirmishes. Stephen here is badly hurt,
and one or two patriots are dead, but
for every one of ours God has smitten
three Of the invaders"
Martha did not hear the last SEN
tences. She had stepped swiftly to the
bedside, leaning over the patient.
Where. Stephen-where-how-how
did you come by this?"
She touched an embroidered kerchief
tied round the young soldiers arm
stained with his blood. The man open
ed his eyes and smiled recognition.
Martha de Kalb," he said, you wo-
men are doing good work among the
wounded. That? Oh. that crawled
over to when l was shot down and
took from a dead Englishman's neck.
You see, was bleeding bad and had
to take the first thing saw"
She knew it. She had embroidered
it herself. She had given it to Lieu
tenant venable. She drew back with
out fainting. but now with dumbness
at her heart that was more deathly
than her previous despair.
She was away at last. Peter. her
brother helped her in that. He was
anxious to be done with this work-a
kind of executioner's work. Besides,
like every young Boer, he was eager to
get back to his father and the leaders
in the decisive fight which. they all
knew, must be close at hand and show
the older heroes of the people that their
younger brothers in arms were made
of the same stern. stuff as the fathers.
The farmer had done as he promised
and given her an excellent horse, wish
ing her godspeed on what he presumed
was secret mission. Neither did any
body express fear of possible danger
for her. They knew she was veldt
bred, acquainted with the country and
a good horsewoman. Peter handed her
a revolver at the last moment She
looked in his eyes as she took it. but
he turned away, yet she knew the
thought which was in the iron minded
Boer boys soul. and perhaps, she med
itated, that would be best. Father,
mother, brother. country and lover all
lost In one day-a traitress. a spy.
Surely it would be best so to do with
herself out there in the night on the
lonely veldt.
There was but quarter moon; its
light and that of the stars served only
to make the solitude of the veldt more
shadowy and fearful to stranger.
Martha was no stranger to night in the
bush. Very often In slow OK wagons,
or in the swifter cart, behind her faith