Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1907-10-08

land heart now, a vague recollection OF
lmy baby days, when a father kneli
lover me and called me his brave SOL
ldier boy. Then came days and years
Of loneliness, during which I never
heard his voice, never knew the touch
OF his hand"
why do you recall those days,
faltered the colonel, brokenly, shading
his face with his hand.
"Why? Because 1t was the sight OF
his face, lovingly remembered, the
tones Of his voice that I heard long
ago, that brings them before me. But
now I have no father. Two years ago
he lived, and I started to join him with
all the fond hopes conjured from a
baby's dream of love and tenderness.
Then came the terrible hour when
knew l was unworthy to be called a
man. Time and again I tried to re-
claim myself only to sink lower and
lower, until at last, under that very
fathers eyes, l crushed out the last
atom Of hope, and knew that to me
my father was dead, that stood alone
in the world, despised even by the wo-
man l loved dearest Of ALL"
He paused, weak and trembling.
Poor human nature could endure no
more, and he broke down with sob
of heart broken anguish.
His sob was re-echoed by another,
which proceeded from Florence Sher-
wood, who, knowing Of the interview
taking place below, which, indeed, had
been Of her own contrivance, had, on
some pretext to her husband and sis
ter who were with her, stolen from
her room, and step by step had noise
lessly descended the stairs, while Wal
lace had been speaking.
| AS the expression Of the agony she
was undergoing broke involuntarily
from her, the colonel turned and saw
her.
Florence, come here" he said, in a
low voice.
The poor woman obeyed.
Florence, you have helped to set
this cruel trap for me. Well, then,
what mercy would you ask for this
man?"
But at this Wallace raised his head
proudly and before she could answer,
replied himself. All weakness had
now v" shed, and he spoke more like
man demanding his rights than one
pleading for clemency.
Let her ask the mercy came here
to ask, the mercy denied me on the
battlefield. Colonel Gray, was once
your son. The sentence of the court
martial must not be tampered with on
account of that fact. am guilty. Let
the verdict be just one-death!"
The colonel shuddered and turned
away. But the effect upon the wo-
man who was listening to him, the
woman who loved him, was far more
terrible.
| Forgetting everything save the fate
with which he was threatened, which,
indeed, seemed inevitable, Florence,
with a shrek Of agony, tottered toward
her first, her only lover. and flung her
arms passionately about his neck.
mo! MOI" she shrieked. "Not that,
uncle! He must not diet"
| "Florence!"
| The one word crashed out like the
explosion Of a bomb.
Florence withdrew her arms from
their clinging embrace, and turned
with pale. frightened face to confront
her husband, who had followed her
Just in time to hear her frantic words
Of appeal and to witness her compro-
missing action.
| On the landing above, Dorothy was
standing, Mortified, and fearing almost
any tragedy. But nothing Of the sort
occurred.
On the contrary, what Immediately
followed was not far removed from
the commonplace.
Colonel Gray turned to Sherwood
and said quietly:
| Doctor, take your wife away"
Sherwood touched Florence upon the
arm.
She started, and faltered nervously:
| Il came toto"
~ understand" said Sherwood, cold
ly and evenly. you came to see the
colonel"
! But Florence did not seem to hear
him. It Is doubtful IL at that mo-
ment she cared what he thought.
"Uncle!" she cried, turning to Col
onel Gray. "you will not"
Have no fear!" interrupted the COL
onel, abruptly and yet reassuringly.
prisoners do not choose their pun
ishment."
| Sherwood took Florence by the hand
and led her to the foot of the stairs.
With bowed head she went slowly up
and joined by Dorothy, entered her
own room.
| Wallace, who had been leaning
against a chair for support, suddenly
seemed to collapse, and, staggering
back a little, sank down upon the
lounge.
The colonel gave him one quick
glance and then said icily:
Doctor the prisoner is overcome.
He will need your care"
Father" murmured Wallace, faint
ly.
But his father paid no attention to
him. With a curt good-evening to the
doctor he left the house.
Sherwood folded his arms and with
threatening expression upon his thin
face, surveyed the young man before
him. Although the doctor cared moth
ing for his wife, indeed, had been long
ing to be rid of her, it was gall and
wormwood to him to think that an
other was preferred to himself. and 1t
especially chafed him to think that
Colonel Gray had been a witness to his
wife'S action.