The St. Louis Republic. [volume] (St. Louis, Mo.) 1888-1919, 1903-03-15

4 delight. men tney were Oil ihAstuheh
| You are no rebel. after all?'
| Was ever man 50 tempted since the GALL
| OF Adam? Az have writ 1t down for you
| in measured words, l was no more than
| half :: patriot at this time. And love has
I made mere traitors than Its oDposites OF
| lust or greed. In no uncertain sense / was
| n man without a country; and this fair
maiden on the hassock at my feet was all
! the World to me. saw in bTiefer time than
any clock hands ever measured how E:::ch
/ a yielding word might do for me: and then
thought of Richard JonnIfer and was
myself again.
F, Nay. little one," said: there has been
/ no mistake. For their own purposes ny
| enemies have passed the word that / s-'
/ here as the Baron de Kalb's paid spy. That
, IS no mistake; It's a lie cut out Of whole
/ cloth. came here straight from New Berns
, ard back Of that from London and the Con-
! tinent. and scarcely know the buff and blue
/ by sight. But l am Carolina born dear
lady; and this King Georges Governor
, hanged my father. So. when God gives me
! strength to mount and ride
! Now who is ferce?' she cried. And then.
| like lightning: viii you raise band of
! rebels and come and take your own again?"
| You know I will not l protested. 80
| gravely that she laughed again. though now
| there were tears, from what weil-soring
of emotion ! knew not, in her eyes.
| one little grain of imagination, Mon
sieur John? You are too mon
strous literal for our poor testing age"
Then she sobered quickly and added this:
And yet l fear that this is what my
father fears
feared it once with reason, or that now the
houseless dog she petted should have life Of
me though mine enemy should sick him
on. But did say her father had no present
cause to dread me-.
He thinks he has. And surely there il
| cause enough she added.
1 smiled, and, loving her the more for
her fairness, must smile again.
Nay. you have changed all that, dear
| lady. Truly, did at first fly out to him
and all concerned for what has made me q
poor pensioner in my fathers house-or
rather in tine house that was my fathers
But that was while the hurt was new. I
have been a soldier Of fortune too long to
think ovegmuch of the loss Of Appleby
I but twas never mine
And yet-and yet it should be yours,
John Ireton' She said 1t bravely, with
uplifted face and eloquent eyes that one
who ran might read.
lis good and true Of you to say so,
little one; but there be two sides to that
as well So my fathers acres come at
last to you and Richard Jennifer. I shall
, be well content, do assure you, Margery."
She sprang up from her low seat and
went to stand in the window-bay. After
time she turned and faced me once again,
and the warm blood was in cheek and
neck. and there was a soft light in her
| eyes to make them shine like stars.
Then you would have me marry Richard
| Jennifer?'' she asked.
Twas but little word that honor babe
me say, and yet 1t choked me and could
| not say It.
Dick would have you, Margery; and Dick
| is my dear friend-as am his
But your she queried. Were you my
| friend. as well, Is this as you would have
| it?"
My look went past her through the lead
trimmed window-panes to the great oaks
, and hickories on the lawn; to these and to
| the white road winding in and out among
| them. While vet / sought for words in
| which to give her unreservedly to my dear
| lad, two horsemen trotted into view. One
| of them was a kings man; the other a
civilian in sober black. The redcoat rode
as English troopers do. with a firm seat, as
| IL the man were master Of his mount; but
| the smaller in black seemed little TO
| the manner born. and daylight shuttled in
and out beneath him, keeping time to the
jog-trot of his beast
| I thought it passing strange that with all
| good will to answer her, these coming
horsemen seemed to hold me silent. And,
| indeed. / did not speak until they came
| so near that could make them out.
| II am your friend. Margery. mine:
! as good friend as you will
| let me be. And as between Rich
F., ard Jennifer and another. / should be a
| sorry friend to Dick did l not"
She heard the clink of horseshoes on the
| gravel and turned, signing tonne for silence
| while she looked below. The window over
hung the entrance on that side, and through
| the opened air-casement heard some bah
Element of voices, though not the words.
II must go down. she said. Ills COM
pany come, and my father is away
She passed behind my chair, and. hearing
her hand upon the latch, 1 had thought her
gone-gone down to welcome my enemy and
his riding mate. the factor. But while
was cursing my unready tongue and re-
,enting that had not given her some small
word Of warning, she spoke again.
You say Richard Jennifer or another
What know you of any other, Monsieur
John?'
NAY, I know nothing save what you
have told me; and from that have been
hoping there was no other"
But if l say there may be-"
My heart went sick at that. True, had
whose right was paramount; but to
"Margery, come hither where I may see
| you" And when she stood before me like
a hidden child: Tell me. little comrade.
who is that other?"
But now her mood was changed again.
I and from standing sweet and pensive she
fell a-laughing
What impudencet' she cried. Ma foil
| You should borrow Pere Matthews cassock
and breviary: then. mayhap. I mightsscon-
TESS to you. But not before"
But still pressed her.
Tell me, Margery."
She tossed her head and would not look
| at me- "Dick Jennifer is but boy; sup
pose this other were a man full-grown."
"Yes?"
And a soldier
The sickness in my heart became a fire.
20 Margery! Don't tell me it is this fiend
| who came Just now!"
All in a flash the testing mood was gone,
but that which took its place was strange
to me- Tears came; her bosom heaved.
And then she would have passed me but /
caught her hands and held them fast.
"Margery. one moment; for your own
sweet sake, If not for Dicks or mine, have
naught to do with this DEVILS emissary of
q man. If you only knew-if I dared tell
you"
But for once, It seemed I had stretched
my privilege beyond the limit. She whipped
her hands from my hold and faced me
coldy.
'Sir Francis says you are a brave gentle
man. Captain Ireton, and though he knows
well what YOU would be about he has not
in return you call him names behind his
hQN I ha1 SIN I'm