The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1907-05-24

racle reclaim this human wreck? She
shuddered as she recalled the awful struggle
when they had tried to keep the liquor from
him. And yet somehow she felt thrill
of confidence in the clear headed splendid
fellow who had taken this burden on his
broad shoulders. He was doing it for her
sake. And he had done it after she had
virtually repulsed his love.
The days wore away and it was almost
a month later before Margery received the
first letter. 1t was dated at Gibraltar
owe have been bufeted about by
storms" Martin wrote, "and both of us
have suffered somewhat in consequence.
1t is too early yet to talk about results, but
l have not lost hope in the success Of the
experiment. No doubt you are wondering
how I contrived to kidnap George, but it
wasn't very difficult. l lured him away
at time when he scarcely realized where
he was going. And when he awoke he
was inyNew York. 1t was harder mat
ter to get him aboard the steamer, but [
finally succeeded. am sorry to say that
he does not appreciate the efforts have
made in his behalf In fact, he regards
me as his bitterest enemy. Perhaps this
feeling will wear away. You may rest
assured that it will make no difference in
my feeling toward him. And whether he
likes my company or not he will have to en-
dure it, | will write again when we reach
Alexandra. Have courage and believe
that am doing all that can be done.
Margery cried over this. letter. 1t
seemed to her as if she detected an under
tone of hopelessness running through it.
She could only family imagine the events
of that long voyage. But she knew that
Martin would persevere to the very ut
most.
The letter from Alexandria was long
time coming. She opened it with feel
ing of dread.
"George has been ill.," Martin wrote;
$50 i'll that I did not have the heart to
write you until he was better. But he is
so much improved that in few days |
hope we can start up the Nile. There
was one very gratifying feature of his ILL
ness-all his old animosity disappeared.
He seemed to want me near him all the
time, and when the horrors that beset him
were at their worst he would cry out for
me and beg me to protect him, and even the
touch of my hand seemed to soothe him.
l trust that the old feeling will not return
after he fully RECEIVERS. He has just called
to me, Tell sister, he says, that am in
good hands l will write to you again
before we enter the desert
Then Margery waited for the letter from
the desert and the time seemed, oh, so
long! At last it came.
"More delays Martin wrote, "but
now our equipment is ready and we enter
the desert tomorrow. I do not know when
you will hear from us again. We are 60
ing to be cut off from the usual means of
communication. But will do my best to
relieve your anxiety. l am writing this
in troop shed, the only quarters we could
get. George is lying on blanket covered
board within reach Of my hand. l do not
dare let him leave my sight. He is very
melancholy, and his antipathy to me has
returned. l have cut down his allowance
of brandy by one-half and I think he
Graves it less and less. l can only hope
that his lack of appetite for stimulants
does not mean dangerous collapse. l
am writing to you frankly, dear girl, just
as I am sure you would have me write
We had hard battle and the outcome is
not at all certain. Goodbye and heaven
keep you.
That was the last that Margery heard
from Martin for many months.
A year wore away and still no message
came And then Margery almost ceased
to hope. She knew there had been an
uprising of the savage tribes of the Sou
dan. The fanatic followers Of leader
long supposed to be dead had swept away
the outposts of the British advance and
destroyed much of the work upon the new
railway. 1t had required months to as
semble a sufficiently large force to push
these wild invaders back, and then the ad
vance, harassed by the foe and hampered
by fever, was very slow.
And Margery shivered when she read
all this. Where was that little railway
post? Did it lie in the red pathway of
the galloping hordes? Was there any
hope that it could have escaped I?
Later on came the tidings of battle in
which the British forces had routed the
fanatics with great loss. But their own
loss was heavy and the advance was slow.
There were rumors of white prisoners
somewhere in the interior, and as soon as
re e-enforcements arrived there would be
vigorous attempt to rescue the unfortunates.
Later on the rescuing column was reported
to its advancing. There were sharp skir-
mishes along the line of march and then
another battle. And this time the fanat-
les were overwhelmed and their leader be-
came friendless fugitive.
Six weeks later Margery received a
cablegram.
"We are coming home," it told her.
And the name under it was "George."
Another long period of waiting followed,
but now Margery's anxiety was tempered
with hope.
Then came clear and beautiful morning
in June, and Margery was busy with her
household duties when the bell rang, and
two men, one strong, robust, clear of eye,
and rosy of cheek, the one gaunt, pale,
hollow eyed, confronted her.
Margery gave little scream. This
fine young fellow, whose hand firmly
clasped hers, was Brother George, and the
figure holding fast to his arm, shadow of
his former self, was Martin Henley.
The tears sprang to Margerys eyes at
this pitiful sight, and she caught hold of
Martin wasted hand and drew him into
the little sitting room and gave him the
easiest chair.
"There he is,' cried George. "He