The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1902-12-08
BOOK III.
The Honour of De Virtre.
CHAPTER XIII.
Grafton Comes Back to the Rose.

CHAPTER XIII.
Grafton Comes Back to the Rose.
me two servants. in obedience to her
orders, left her alone with the wounded
man. He had not recovered conscious
ness, and save for a few feeble means,
while they We're working over his more
serious wounds, he had given no evidence
OF lie. She had not given any thought
10 cleansing his face until the bandaging
ana necessary work had been done. But
now she sat down beside him. and dipping
the cloth In the water tenderly wiped the
earth stains from his cheek and the CO.
agulated blood from the slight wound in
his forehead
AS his features were thus disclosed to
her In the dim light she suddenly stopped
and bent over him In great surprise Her
heart almost stopped beating. Was it he ?
Could 1t be? She was not sure. 1t was
SO dark In the alcove behind the draperies
OF the bed. and the hangings were not
drawn from before the window. Settins,
the basin down. she ran to the window
and tore open the curtains
me midday sunlight streamed into the
chamber and lighted the corner where
back the hangings with a nervous hand.
The light fell full upon his face.
With low cry she recognized him. 1t
was Grafton, Sir Philip, her knight of
old! Oh, thank God 70" it. Come back
TO her after all these years-yet in this
way, In such a plight!
She stood in silence after that first
exclamation and gaZed upon him. her
heart. her soul in her eyes, At first she
forgot the intervening years. she forgot
the uniform he Wore. she forgot he was an
enemy; she remembered only that he had
come back to her. His memory had been
IN her heart since those childish days.
She had thought Of him. dreamed of him,
longed for him. ay! if the truth were
admitted-she had loved him. Love! But
could she love the enemy Of France! Could
a de Rohan mate with one of the lated
English! She must put him out Of her
heart. Could She
Merciful heavens. what idle thoughts
were these! He was dying before her
eyes. She leaned over him and called him,
softly. tenderly, passionately He did not
STIR and he had told her in olden times
that she might summons him from his
grave and he would come at the sound of
her voice. She spoke to him again and
again. but he did not heed.
There was prie-di near the head
Of the bed. She turned and sank to her
knees before 1T, praying earnestly for
him with such fervor and intensity as
did not usually find place in her maidenly
petitions. Then she came back to the
bedside and stood looking at him, despair
In her heart lest he should die. slip away
and make no sign. But there was moth
ing she could do, so she schooled herself
to wait and while she waited she studied
him.
How changed he was! Older, and vet
the same. There were lines in his brow
which were not there when she had known
him before. She had seen him with a
child's eye-it was a woman now who
looked upon him. Grafton was a very
handsome man, not with the beauty OF
effeminacy. but in bold, maDly, striking
way, so she had always thought. and
she thought it the more strongly now.
She marked how his blond hair curled
gracefully about his brow, and through
his half-opened lids she saw again the
well-remembered eyes of gray. How full
Of light and sunshine they had been!
Her gaze comprehended his features sc
strongly moulded and the we'll turned
chin. She remembered it so we'll His
face, of course, was deadly pale at this
moment, but when it was flushed with
health and energy and the eyes We're
alight with light and hope, as she re-
called him. he was man to win any
womans heart. Would she ever see the
hue Of health and strength there again:
He was a small man, much under the
middle stature. AS she looked at him she
felt sure that side by side, now that she
had grown, he would scarcely OvertuWer
her by an inch, but there was nothing
weak or insignificant about his figure
She remembered how lightly he had lifted
her in the air the first day they met
and how indignant she had been. Coulc
he do it now? And would she care? ,..,
She recalled with delicious thrill OF
long dormant passion how he had helC
her in his arms and carried her to lel
room that never to- be- forgotten night ir
the tower when he had kissed her
the first and only time. The blood
famed in her face at that recollection.
She had thought of it often before, but
with him lying there on the bed it seemed
different. Would that surgeon never
come? She could see him family
breathing yet. He was so strong there
was certainly a chance for him. She
could see the muscles Of his neck and
shoulder, and she had marked the SPLEEN
did development of his arm as she had
'bandaged it a moment since. Yes, there
come.
His face, in spite of his pallor, was
bronzed BY the wind and weather, yet the
white line about his forehead where it
was habitually covered with his hat
showed what his original complexion had
been. He still was sailor, evidently.
She came from g. race of sailors, and her
heart warmed toward those who go down
to, the sea in ships-for her fathers sake,
or. was it for
% Suddenly her thoughts took another
.turn.6"rhe' shirt, in which jean Renaud
had dressed Grafton was left slightly open
at. the neck on account of the bandage.
The chain and the locket had been pushed
aside and the locket lay on the pillow by
the side of his face nearest her. Whose
face was in the locket? her heart uueried