The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1903-08-07

and shredded the delicate pet
ais impatiently.
"Hark you, Dulcine! 'Tis with low
Prs as with birds-one in the hand is
worth two in the BUSH"
"That depends, should say, Qp their
quality" she said, laughing.
(Which means that you like not my
quality"
(Which means rather that like you
not as lover"
He threw the raveled flower into the
dust of the road and stamped upon it
with his heel. "Well, it's take me or
have no lover at all, for before tomor-
rows sun comes up Robert Crenshaw
will be dead or prisoner in the hands
of the British"
She paled and took step nearer him,
then caught herself up with a sharp
turn. Mayhap here was something Of
moment to learn. In those stirring
war times little information often led
to so much.
Robert Crenshaw is not the only lad
who comes my way"
"No, but he is the only one for whom
you have so much welcome. The rest
of us get short shrift But just you
wait until tomorrow and see how your
lover in the bush fares"
"'Tis long time to wait" she said
warily; perhaps with your prophetic
eye you can pierce the intervening
hours and the twenty miles Of space
and tell me about it. Or have you sud-
denly gone blind in your prophets
eye?
She was trembling with eagerness for
his answer, but she must keep him Off
his guard if she would learn the mean
ing Of his dread hint; therefore she
laughed mockingly as she stretched up
her own hand for bit of the bios
somed bush beside her.
He came quite close to her, Jealousy
and anger making him blind to her sub
terfuge.
81 mean that Tarleton rides a raid
tonight along the Laurens road" he
said darkly. Then. seeing by the pallor
of her face how much of his secret he
had betrayed. he added hastily, with
forced smile. "At least that is what
think see; but, then, my prophetic eye
may be asquint."
The blood was pounding at her wrists
and temples. but still she laughed care
lessly.
"Methinks it is sadly asquint. You
are but telling me a bugaboo story as
though l were a child to be scared. 'Tis
not kind of you to try to frighten me
causelessly."
"Yes, it's but a bugaboo story" he
said, anxious to recall the information
he had unguardedly let slip, but she
knew the truth had come first.
They were standing at the gate of her
fathers lawn. His horse champed at
its bit just outside, and hers whinnied
softly as it pulled at the bride in her
hand, for she had been on her way to
a neighbors when she met the young
man. They were an Ill matched pair,
for she was 1.-THE and straight and
good to look upon, while he was small
and thin, with a look of premature age
in his face heightened by deep burn
scar across his cheek. But there was
that about his mouth that every wom-
an should be glad to find in her hus-
banda latent tenderness of nature,
line which indicated a capacity for
great self sacrifice.
He talked on eagerly Of his love for
her, of his long suit before the coming
of Robert Crenshaw, but she scarcely
heard him. The words 'Tarleton rides
a raid tonight" beat to and fro through
her brain like weaver's shuttle, fash
ioning its own dread sequel. She was
Quivering TO be alone, to take in the
whole dread meaning of his disclosure,
but she smiled and answered him while
he fingered until the big gold of ophir
sun seemed resting on the top rail Of
the fence across the rice field. Then at
last he mounted and rode away.
He, Peter La Brun, was Tory; she,
Dulcine l.angston, was a Whig of the
most intlammable kind. and the spark
of hint he had dropped famed to
white heat in her imagination. Twen-
ty miles away, in the Laurens district,
Marion and his men lay in fancied Sc
curity after that series of sallies and
escapes which had startled the country
like the coming and going of an appa-
rition. In that dauntless band was
Robert Crenshaw. And Tarleton, the
cruel, the infleXible, was on their trail!
She knew what that meant and shud-
dered in the golden glow of the sunset
as though she had stepped into a sud-
den swirl of snow. And then, with an
unreasoning anger because he had
brought the evil news, she suddenly
hated little Peter La Brun riding away
yonder into the radiance of the dying
day.
But with a quick indrawing of the
breath she remembered the peril that
menaced not only Robert Crenshaw,
but the whole of the patriotic band
that followed Marion's bugle call. The
blow would fall tomorrow at day dawn,
and there was none to carry a warn
ing, for every man and every boy of
the neighborhood was away with Ma
rion himself in that i'll fated camp or
else with Lee at Charleston. This raid
Of Tarleton's meant the swift and ut
Ter destruction of the continental cause
In the Carolina districts. All, If there
were only some one whom she might
send! But there was no one. and the
mainstay of the Carolinas the hope of
the patriots, must go down under the
sword of the invaders. Death would
hold high carnival tomorrow; all-ev-
erything-would be lost. Pitiful God,
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