The Leon reporter. (Leon, Iowa) 1887-1930, 1901-08-22
CHAPTER XVI.

!; and down upon her knees, her horse
idly wandering away. She stopped
I and placed her hand upon his heart,
but failed to detect the faintest beat
She drew her fingers across his FORE
head-cold and damp with the chilling
wintry wind-but to her it seemed
touched by the cold hand of Death.
A terrible feeling took possession of
her. Was he dead? Was he speech
less, deaf, blind, beyond love, life,
hope, for evermore?
Lifting his head onto her lap and
pushing back the hair from his beau
tiful forehead, she murmured to him
tenderly, almost reproachfully, half
believing the cruel voice he had loved
so well on earth would recall him even
from the grave. But there was no an
swer.
She looked up wildly. Would nobody
ever come? How long they were
how long! And, when they did come,
would it, perchance, be only to tell
her that help was needless-that he
was indeed dead, as he appeared
1ifeless within her very arms.
Oh. to speak with him once more,
if only for a moment-just for so long
as it would take to let him know how
we'll she loved him, and to beg on her
knees for his forgiveness
Why did he lie so silent at her feet?
Surely that calm, half smile had no
sympathy with. death. Was she never
to hear his voice again-never to see
the loving tenderness that grew in his
eyes for her alone?
Was all the world dead or insensi-
BILE that none would come to her call,
while perhaps each precious moment
was stealing another chance from his
life? This thought was maddening;
she glanced all round her, but as yet
no one was in sight. And then she
began to cry and wiring her hands.
"Denzil, speak to mel" she sobbed.
s'Denzil- darling-darling!"
Lord Lyndon, shortly after the acct
dent had occurred, turning round in his
saddle to discover whether Miss Ire
vanion was coming up with them, and
not seeing her, raised himself in his
stirrups to survey the ground behind,
and beheld two horses riderless, and
something he could not discern clearly
upon the grass.
"Sir George, look!" he called to his
companion what is it-what has
happened? Can you see Mildred?
He waited for nothing more, but
putting spurs to the astonished animal
under him, rode furiously back, leav-
ing Sir George to follow him almost
as swiftly.
And this was what they saw.
Lying apparently lifeless, with one
\ arm twisted under him, in that horri-
BILE, formless way broken limb will
8 sometimes take, lay Denzil Younge,
with Miss Trevanion holding his head
upon her lap and smoothing back his
hair, while she moaned over him words
and entreaties that made Lyndon's
heart grow cold.
Mildred" he cried sharply, putting
his hand on her arm with the inten-
ton of raising her from the ground;
but she shook him off roughly.
Let me alone" she said; what have
you to do with us? 1 loved him. Oh,
Denzil, my darling speak to me-speak
to me-"
What is the meaning of this?"
Lyndon asked hoarsely. "Trevanion,
you should know"
Sir George, who was bending over
the PROSTATE man, raised his eyes for
a moment.
Il suppose, as she says it, it is true -
he answered simply. But give you
my word of honor as gentleman, l
was unaware of it. All know is that
she refused him long before you pro-
posed for her-for what reason l am
as ignorant as yourself. 1t has been
her own secret from first to last
AS Sir George spoke, Mildred looked
up for the first time.
"Is he dead?" she asked with terri
BILE calmness.
mo, mol hope not; broken arm
seldom kills. answered her father,
hurriedly, drawing the broken limb
from beneath the wounded man with
great gentleness. Lyndon, the bran
dy."
Lyndon, who was almost as white as
Denzil at the moment, resolutely put
ting his own grievances behind him
for the time. being, knelt down beside
Sir George, and, giving him his flask.
began to help in the task of resusci-
tation.
How will it be?' he asked in a
whisper.
II cannot tell," answered Sir George:
we can only hope for the best. But
don't like the look on the poor lads
face. 1 have seen such look before.
Do you remember little Polly Stuart of
the Guards? l was on the ground when
/ he was killed very much in the same
manner and saw him lying there with
fust that sort of strange, calm, half
mile upon his face as though defying
cath. But he was stone dead at the
lime, poor boy
How shall we get him home?
asked Lyndon. 81 wish some doctor
could be found to see him. Was not
Stubber on the field this morning?"
yes, but was called off early in the
day. think"
Ills heart" cried Miss Trevanion,
suddenly. Ellis heart! It's beating!"
She ,roicad how o,,oo - -. q,4ha,,,