The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1903-05-07

boiled ham with bread to match, a jug of
water from the WELL and more candles.
best news, thus far" he said. .'Of all the
houses on our side of the river, Lord Corn.
wallis must needs pitch upon this manor OF
Appleby forI his rallying headquarters:
Madge cannot guess when he and the army
will be gone. and she is frighted stin Tor
our sakes."
This was SOBER news. indeed. but we could
do naught but make the best or II AS LOT
me, was most anxious to know IL the gooo
priest were at Appleby. and what of my
chance for seeing him: but of this L could
say no word 20 Richard.
So, when We had done full justice to my
lady's bounty, we slowed the horses in the
deepest of tbs vaults and stripped more or
the bottle coverings for them. But having
only the jug OF water, we could do no more
than swab tEeir mouths out with wetted
kerchief in lieu of giving them drink:
When all was done we sat ourselves down
to await as we must; and when the silence
and solitude had wrought their perfect
work, we fell to talking in low tones to
match the pace and circumstance; and
do think in those quiet hours, walled in as
we were from all the disturbments of the
outer world, I'VE came closer than we had
come for many months.
And while We sat and talked the long day
wore on TO evening and a storm came on as
we could determine, though no otherwise
than by the muffied rolling of the thunder
which, since swe could not see the lightning
nor hear the rain. we took at first for the
booming of distant cannon.
cannot tel you all we spoke of in that
day-long INN urement There some talk
of the great struggle for independence, now.
though we knew 1t not, drawing near to it's
close; and there was much of "reminiscences,
barking back to the exciting and tragic
scenes in which we two had our entrances
and our exits; Also, there was a tribute paid
to the memory of our true old friend and
trusted comrade in arms, Ephraim Yeates,
SO lately gone to his own place. Twas at this
time L learned what of the old mans gifts
i hq har hQfn Spf
down; for Richard had known him long and
well.
From speaking of old Ephraim and his
nearly present; and at length Dick. would
lay finger. gently upon the mystery in
which he was as yet walking as one blind
Its not s. shameful thing; don't tell me
1t is that, jack" he would say; and gave
him speedy assurance upon that head.
NO, It's nsver shameful; so much may
lay an oath To-
''Yet you said once-in that black night
when l went mad and would have killed
yOunthat YOUR life lay between Madge and
so it did and does And God will bear
me witness. Gear lad. that have worn that
life upon my; sleeve"
Nay" he said, very gently; 'you need
not go so high for a witness; have 1 not
We fell silent upon that. and there, in the
Dor. 1 fought the fellest battle of my life;
fought 1t AMI won it, too my dears once
and for all. There was a cold sweat on my
the story of that fateful night in June. At
rising forty tits no light thing TO lose
friend-nay, to turn a friends love into
scorn and loathing and bitter hatred.
He heard me through without word and
at the end, when L looked to see him spring
up and bid me draw and let him have his
one poor chance for satisfaction, he still sat
motionless. winking and staring at the gut
tering candle. And when he spoke twas
with quivering Of the lip that was not of
anger.
mo; for she loves you. Richard. as dear
ly as she hs ties me. And it's not so hope
less now, else / had never screwed together
the courage 20 tell you all this. She has at
last consented to the church's undoing of
the incomplete marriage-'twas this she
wrote me about when we were at the Cow
pens, and twas her letter that set me upon
going TO Winnsborough to see the priest.
missed him there, as you know; but l am
here herr IN now Ssr by her own appointment to meet
He shook his head slowly. You've killed
the hope in NE, Jack. l do think you are all
at sea; tits you she loves-not me-
l could afford to smile at that.
If you coilld see how she has ever gone
about to prove that she did not love me-
you would rest easy on that score, dear
lad"
But he wotld only shake his head again.
Twas TO save your life she rode in on us
that morning under the oaks. in the glade"
Twas ywomanly horror OF duel and
bloodshed, more belize" said l.
But she las saved your life thrice since
then, as you confess.
Yes; from a strained sense of wifely
duty, as she took good care TO tell me-
None the iesS-ah, Jack, you do not know
her as L do; she would never have consented
to stand before the priest with you had
hatred in he" heart"
Twas a bitter necessity. fairly forced
upon her. Tell me; had there been a spark
OF love for ME in her heart would she have
treated Ss the dust beneath her feet on
that long infaring from the western noun
tains? she never spoke word to me, Dick
in all those weeks"
Which may prove no more than that YOU
said or did something to cut her to the
quick. Two'sld be well in your way. Jack
Sne Is as sSnsi'Ee as sne should be, and
1 could say Of YOU"
mo. no; you are far beside the mark.
You forget hat the breaking of the mar
riage is of her own proposing-at least. I
should say 1 only limited at it,"
There may be two sides 10 that, as we'll.
Have you eyer told her that you love her,
JACKIE
Surely not, have been all kinds of a mol
troon in this matter, as l have confessed.
but this one thing l have not done"
Well, said he speaking slowly, as one
who thinks the path out word by word,
what if she believes tbs you who want
your freedom? What if you have made her
that bitterest thing in all the world-a wom-
an scorned?r
/ would not listen TO him more.
This is AL the merest folly. Richard as
1 will prove Ito you beyond the question of a
doubt: Do you mind that little interval in
the Cherokee's torture play when they came
to bind US afresh for the burning?"
II mind 40 more of that horror night
than can Eelp.''
well, in that hour, when death was wait
ing for all three Of us, she wrote a little
farewell note TO the man she loved 'Twa :
for you, Dick, but her Indian messenger
Numbered and gave 1t me-
He got upon his feet at that and began
to pace slowly back and forth under the
gloomy archings. But ere long he paused IN
saying. WHO am l. Jack. to buy my happi-
, ness at such price,"
Nay. lad; tbs neither you nor 7 who
should figure greatly in the matter: its orr
dear lady. She must cen have what she
longs for. if you. or L. or both of us. should
into my Lord Cornwalliss moose"
Now, by. heaven, Jack Ireton it's Won
who are the true lover and the gentleman
and / am raught but selfish churl with
my face in my own trencher," he burst ont.
wIinging mt' hand yet again. 4" Ills as YOU
| aught you pave told me to prove II other
wise, Madge has yet to choose between ms
and she shall have that choice fairly an6
squarely, and knowing that you love her
before we three go apart again"
| l smiled. and tried hard to keep that
heart-sorensss out OF my reply.
LAS for that, my lad. have had nv stir
rup-cup long since. and have drained IL n
| the dregs with a wry face, as an old man
must when young man brews for him.
| But IL the priest"
Jennifer had resumed his pacing sentry
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