Middlebury register. (Middlebury, Vt.) 1886-1937, 1904-05-20

Cracking steps reused them, and
mey scrambled out to bay and sniff
and yelp, when the negro dubbed them
back.
A heavy tread stumbled up the steps.
An aged mastiff, curled under the old
mans chair. hunched shoulders. growl-
ing, and the baron, sitting by the dead
hearth, with the ashes fallen from his
pipe, turned his head.
Henry stood on the threshold, carry
ing Armand in his arms.
AS his bearer stood. rocking, the
young man stirred, opened his eyes
wide on the baron and thrust down his
legs. "My lord" he cried gayly, but
with weakness and husking breath, 81
ONE early to keep my appoint
ment." He took a step and lurched for
ward on to the floor.
Lord Fairfax stood up like a blasted
tree with two dead boughs left swing
ing. "Great heaven! The lad! Has
Foy killed him."
Not yet" Henry answered. mo
fault of his, my lord"
The baron shouted for his servants
and for cloths, hot water and lily vine
gar. "He must have a leech," he said.
IL will ride myself for the doctor at
Ashby's Gap" Henry answered. But
1 will dress the wound first" With
Joe's help skins were spread on one of
the couches and Armand laid thereon.
Then, with a woodsman's knowledge
of wounds, Henry drew his knife and
cut away the clothing.
ut is not mortal?" asked the old man
anxiously.
mo. But twas a foul lunge. Think
not he was the poorest swordsman.
Never was such a skill seen in the vir-
ginias as he showed this night
as it SOP"
"Sir, he held that rats life on the
point of his steel. 1 swear to you he
could have run him through a score
of times an he would. They stopped
the d~uel-soldiers from the fort-and
that red devil of Dunmore's attacked
him when he had thrown his weapon
by and was empty handed"
"Ah." cried the baron.
At length Henry stood up. 81 am off
to the Gap now. l shall not return
with the doctor, since I must go on to
Williamsburg tomorrow. But for safe
tvs sake shall pray him speed"
A struggle showed in the baron's
face. Nc one had ever gone uncheered
from his door. He kept open table at
the Winchester courts, fed the poorer
settlers with his own produce and
would have filed the ragged hat of a
beggar with g%uineas. One passionate
hatred he h~ad-hatred against the en-
emies of his king. All were alike to
him, high or low. The times, growing
beyond him, had put forward patriots.
But, all alike, he deemed them vipers
that bit the hand that fed them.
AS Henry approached the door my
lord was fdgeting in his chair. The
hand was upon the latch when he could
restrain himself no longer.
Joe" he Numbered, "fetch a stirrup
cup! You may be a rebel, sir, but,
blast my whips and spurs, you shall
drink before you gol l could wish you
were not an enemy of the king"
mot of the king" said Henry, and
smiled. Not of the king, but Of the
kings rule"
a CLEAN of f%erceness, of the uncom-
promising principle of his life, shot
from under the old mans brows. Il
hold with no disloyalty."
II hold" said Henry in a low voice,
with my friend Colonel Washington"
Il abet no treasons," famed the old
man.
Henry's eyes hid a sudden CLEAN of
satiric humor. He stretched out the
glass the negro had brought him and
proffered it to his host.
81 must decline" he said, ito accept
hospitality from any man on earth who
has aught to say against the character
of Colonel Washington"
The baron stood for a moment with
his jaw dropped, then coughed. God
knows"-he said, his voice shaking like
a child's-"God knows r.
But he got no further. "My dear
Lord Fairfax exclaimed Henry, and
drank the glass at a draft.
ITO be cOntinued0