The Savannah morning news. (Savannah, Ga.) 1900-current, 1903-10-18

! HtIS 10 TOUCH H. ne Sdlu Anu NlItll
she had gone he asked to be left alone
with Tom.
Give me your hand. Tom" he said
family. I'D like to keep hold of it a
minute or so. I cound't have said
that yesterday. could I, without caus-
ing us both horrible embarrassment?
But 7 fancy l can now, because I'm
done for. That's too bad, isn't il? I'm
very young, after all. Do you remem-
Der what poor Andre Chener said as
he went up to be guillotined There
were things in this head Of mine!
But | want to tell you what's the mat
ter with me- 1t was just my being a
bad sort OF poet I suppose that I've
never loved anyone; yet I've cared
| more deeply than other men for every
! lovely thing l ever saw, and there 5
so little that hasn't loveliness in it.
I'd be ashamed not to have cared for
the beauty in all the women I've made
| love to-but about this one-the most
She will understand" said Tom,
| quickly.
She will-yes-shes wise and good.
| If Fanchon knew, there wouldn't be
| even a memory left to her-and l
don't think she'd live. And do you
! know, l believe I've done a favor for
! Miss Betty in getting myself shot;
! Carewe viii never come back;
! Tom, was ever a mans knav-
| cry so exactly the architect of
mis- own destruction as. mine? And
| for what gain? Just the excitement
! Of the comedy from day to day!-for
she was sure to despise me as soon as
| she knew-and the desire to hear her
voice say another kindly thing 20 me
and the everlasting perhaps in every
woman, and this one the Hearts
Desire of all the world All, we'll!
| Tell mel want to hear it from you
how many hours does the doctor say?'
Hours, Crailey?" Toms hand
twitched pitifully in the others feeble
grasp.
Il know it's only a few"
They're all fools. doctors!" ex-
claimed Vanrevel, fiercely
mo, no. And I know that nothing
can be done. You all see it, and you
want me to go easily-or you wouldn't
let me have my own way so much! 1t
frightens me. 1 own up, to think that
so soon I'll be wiser than the wisest in
the world. Yet l always wanted to
know. I've sought and I've sought
but now to go out along on the search
it must be the search, for the Holy
Grail"
please don't talk" begged Tom. in
a broken whisper. For mercy's sake,
lad. 1t wears on you So"
Crailey laughed weakly. DO you
think 1 could die peacefully without
talking a great deal? There's one
thing / want, Tom. / want to see all
of them once more, all the old friends
that are going down the river at noon.
What harm could it do? 1 want them
to come by here on their way to the
boat, with the band and the new flag.
But l want the band to play cheer
fully Ask EN- to play Rosin the Bow
will you? I've never believed in
mournfulness, and I don't want to see
Of i'm
piety of all! And besides, l want to
see them as they'll be when they come
marching home-they must look gay!"
"Ah, don't lad, dont!" Tom flung
one arm about the others shoulder
and Crailey was silent, but rested his
hand gently on his friends head. In
that attitude Fanchon found them
when she came.
The volunteers gathered at the
court house two hours before noon.
They met each other dismally, speak
ing in undertones as they formed in
| lines of four. while their dispirited
faces showed that the heart was out of
them. Not so with the crowds of
country folk and townspeople who
lined the streets to see the last of
them. For these when the band came
marching down the street and took it's
place, set up a royal cheering that
grew louder as Jefferson Bareaud, the
color bearer, carried the flag to the
head of the procession. With the
recruits marched the veterans of 1912
and the Indian wars, the one-iegged
cobbler stumping along beside Gen.
Tumble, who looked very detected
and old. The lines stood in silence,
and responded to the cheering by
quietly removing their hats; so that
the people whispered that it was more
like an Odd Fellows Sunday, funeral
than the departure of enthusiastic
patriots for the seat of war. Gen
Tumbles was not the only sad face
in the ranks; all were downcast and
nervous, even those of the lads from
1 the country, who had not known the
| comrade they were to leave behind.
jefferson unfurled the flag; Marsh
gave the word of command, the band
began to play a quick-step, and the
/ procession moved forward down the
/ cheering lane of people, who waved
! little flags and handkerchiefs and
/ threw their hats in the air as they
| shouted. But contrary to expectation,
! the parade was not directly along Main
street to the river. Right wheel!
! March, commanded Tappingham,
/ hoarsely, waving his sword. and JEFF
4 ferson led the way into Carewe street
For Gods sake, don't cry now!"
/ and Tappingham, with a large drop
/ streaking down his own cheek, turned
savagely upon Lieut.. Cummings.
THAT isn't what he wants. He wants
to see us looking CHEEKY and smiling.
! We can do it for him this once, I
guess! 1 never saw him any other
| way"
You look d. smiling yourself!"
! snuffled Will.
81 will when we turn In at the
| gates,' retorted his captain. ION my
| soul, l swear I'll kill every shifting
| idiot that doesn't!-In line, there!" he
stormed ferociously at a big recruit.
| The lively strains of the band and
the shouting of the people grew louder
| and louder in the room where Crailey
! lay. His eyes glstened as he heard,
| and he smiled, not the old smile of
/ the worldly prelate, but merrily, like
| a child when music is heard. The
| room was darkened, save for the light
| of the one window which fell softly
upon his head and breast and upon
another fair head close to his, where
| Fanchon knelt In the shadows at one
| end of the room were Miss Betty and
| Mrs. Tanberry and Mrs. Bareaud and
the white-haired doctor who had said,
Let him have his own way in all he