The Virginia enterprise., 1905-02-24
&9 The Warrior.
~ BY HAROLD WILD.

r was feeling tired, with that COL
IL lapsing sense of extreme lassitude
to which both body and mind seemed to
bow abjectly.
The feeling was not a novel one
with him, for during the last few
months he had constantly experienced
it, combined with a hard, dry and ir-
ritating cough
He stepped out into all the wretch
edness of a wet and gloomy day in the
early part Of the year, and felt how
unfit he was, yet acknowledging the
necessity to face it.
He had been Working hard the day
before, finishing some black and white
drawing for an illustrated magazine run
by syndicate which was of the long
wlnded type, and which paid badly.
But one must live and, poor artist
that he was. the thought of somebody
else had lately crept into his mind,
urging him on to even greater exer-
tions. 1t was a hard struggle, this
light against poverty and the wosld,
while victory appeared shadowy and
far away.
He had an appointment with a dealer
at noon, a man with whom he had
left two or three canvases, on the
slender chance Of an offer being made
for them, no matter how small. which
might prove an introduction to more
satisfactory negotiations.
1t wanted more than two hours to
the time named, and, not feeling equal
to close work, he climbed wearily to
the top Of bus bound for Charing
Cross, prcferring to sit in the rain and
fresh air than face the evil smell
ing. damp, sodden atmosphere Of the
interior.
Alighting at Trafalgar Square he
walked across to the National Gallery
and went into the building, which had
just opened for the day. 1t was al
ways a haven Of rest for him, this
home Of the works Of men who haG
lived and toiled, some of them in as
bad q case, nay, often much worse
than he was in. and had left behind
them names which the world now &C
knowledged as immortal
He walked into the room contain
ing the pictures of the Spanish School,
and sat down before one which was
always favorite with him, but which
row seemed to possess special attrac-
tons.
1t was the picture ascribed to Velas-
Quez, known as the "Orlando Muerte''
("The Dead Warrior.D
The wpl}-1<DnWn canvas with itc
single PROSTATE figure appealed to him
greatly, not SO much on account of the
genius of the dead master or the splen-
did work in the painting, a fine exam
pie of foreshortening, but as regarded
the immediate subject.
He did not think of that still, silent
figure as that which it represented, the
dead body of the great Ronald "in the
Roncesvalles Strait" but as that of a
warrior comparatively unknown who
had fallen in fight. amid the turmoil of
battle. cOntesting to the last, and who
was now at peace
HE died fighting, fighting hard,''
muttered the artist, under his breath,
and that thought even cheered him
Better far better, to die fighting hard
than to end ones existence ignobly
amid all tfe luxuries of rampered ease
and interested assistance.
He looked long at that pale. ar
mored figure and unconscicusly dew
parallel with his own case. He had
started the worlds fight clad in all the
bright panolly Of youth and arlRe'1
with all youths COZ idences ard aspl
ratlons, and gradually-he sigEed as
he realized 1.-THE trappings were get.
ting old, the arms had been sadly
blunted, and he knew that, as IT,:
other warrior had been, he was driv.
en- to bay. and all he could do was to
die fighting, unless support arrived
However, that longed-ror assistance
might come, and if it did the lau7els
for the victor were surely worth con
testing for, and his thoughts took a
softer turn as a face seemed to fit be-
fore his eyes and blot out the dead
figure on the canvas in 'front.'
A bright. merry, laughing face, soft
as child's, with a great deal of a
child's innocence IN its expression. and