The Montgomery advertiser., 1908-06-21

 | ing quarrel on that gentleman. Mir. Washington affected not to no- | tice the young mans words for a long time, but at last. on day just before the starting of the troops, Georges | anger reached stage where he pass | cd from polite affronts to open insult. "Confound your impudence. you in-
 fernal young jaci1anapes!F" suddenly believed Colonel Washington. with | g1aring eyes and every limb Quivering with wrath. For months past I have borne with such Impotence from you that if had not loved your mother yes. sir. and your good grandfather and your brother, would put you across my knee and whip you. you snariing little puppy. that's what I would dow
 At once both Harry and George started up and demanded reparation. The stout Coionel's heart smote him. An immense tenderness and Kindness 1 filled him at the thoug ght that he should be called on to shed the blood of one of , these lads whom he loved. "I--I am | bewiidered," he said My words. per- haps, were worry nasty. What is the incoming of thIST'
 | An evil spirit was awake and victo- rious In young George Warrington. His | black eyes shot out hatred at the sim- pie and guileless gentleman before him.
 
 Tn heavens name be it," said Mir.
 Washington. with q deep grief in his | face.
 The two champions withdrew to write their letters before the meeting. 1 One of those written by Mir. Wash ing | ton was addressed simply M C." Then
 he staiked into tho field where they were to light.
 ''GeorgeI George Washington cried voice. It was Harry, rushing with | both hands out. with love and affection
 thrilling in his honest voice. He had | discovered that the Colonel was paying
 court. not to Mime. Edmond but to Mrs
 custis; and George was coming to | apologize ilumbly.
 Thank God. thank God, for this" said George Washington, with a fai- | tsring voice. He took Harry fairly ir- to his arms and held him close to his | heart.
 He did not embrace George, but held his hand out to him Eravely saying: l George, take a true friends advice and | try and be less ready to think evil of | your friends"
 The next day General Braddock. with | his rtotousl 9oldiery and scarcely less ! riotous officers, who were loath to tear | themselves away from the excellent liquor of Virginia, departed splendidly ! on his campaign.
 \ | by couriers Then came ten days of silence. And then a vast and sudden | gloom spread over the province. The army had been surprised. The troops had been cut up almost to a
 man. All the officers had been taken down by the French and the savagea.
 The general had died from wounds and had been scalped.
 Harry armed himself and set forth | on the northward track. He went | from one end to the other of the dread- I ful field that was no longer haunted by
 Indians. but was left in undlsturbed
 possession of the birds of prey. He ! found no trace of his beloved George.
 But he learned that ons aid dc camp
 had escaped. It was Colonel Washing | ton. lying i'll from fever at a camp | formed by the survivors. 4 sharper pang thap that of fever shot through
 him when he saw poor Harry. MT. Washington did not dare to tell Harry all. He had buried one body, stripped and horribly mutilated by the Indians, which he felt sure was Georges.
 Mournfully the two virginians re- turned to Castlewood There Mime. Es- ulond received Harry with tears and Mir Washington with dignity. "You yourself, sir, have come through the fatigues and dangers of the campaign m the most WOnQeFEul manner, SAtQ she with a ceremonious courtesy. Thereafter Mir. Washington did not trouble the hospitality Of Castlewood any more, and Mme. Edmond seemed curiously angry at his coming mar | riage, considering that sne lost no op- portunity for assuring Harry that the Marquis of Esmond's daughter had bet ter opinion of herself than to dream | of giving her hand to a gentleman who | hoA at h c. surveying!
 Harry did not feel the softened grief of a younger brother assuaged by the | pleasure of inheritance. Wherever he went, whatever he did. he thought of how much better George would have done in his place. Before his mind swam forever the fearful field in the forest and the terrible dead. He thought of the bright face. the daring heart, the loving spirit that had been taken Aapm him on that fatal day. and all the acres of Virginia were worth less to his simple loyal soul.
 The imperious lady of Esmond, lock- | ing up her own grief in her stout heart. and (who may say7) thankful,
 perhaps, without daring to confess tt to herself, that her handsome Harry had not gone with Braddock in Georges | place, graciously ordered that he should so to England to recover from the ill., ness that had followed his return The | anniversary of his brothers ioss found him arrived and introducing himself to his family.
 Met only coldly at first and referred
 to secretly as the Cherokee and the | Iroquois, his amiable relatives gradual
 ly changed their tune when they heard | and began to believe the stories that rumor soon built around him. "The l Princess Pocahontas" as Madam Es-
 mond had long been called by her Eng
 fish friends. had given him im-
 mense sums; so the society of London
 translated the allowance of 250 pounds a year which his mother had made hIm.
 Harry, condescending to tell nobody his
 business, did not undeceive the gos- sips, nor did he descend to correction when they spoke of his principality in Virginia. He listened with silent con- | tempt to the stories, knowing that his slave and body servant Gumbo had started them all; and he did not pre- sume on the standing that the rumors
 gave him. but acted like a simple. 1 weIl-bred fellow.
 Lord Castlewood, the grandson of the
 man for whom Colonel Esmond had renounced the estate, promptly decided to pluck him. Castlewood's brother, penniless. disreputable, cowardly. re-
 solved the same. Lady Maria. Castle
 woods elderly, but well preserved sis
 ter. decided that a province in America
 was the refuge for which she had been
 waiting.
 Of ali he found in Castlewood. there
 was only one who loved him unselfish-