Wauwatosa news. [volume] (Wauwatosa, Wis.) 1900-1948, 1910-05-13
A BITTER REVENGE.
BY GwENDoLINE MILLER.

shaky, and thought for a time it was a
touch OF the sun, but soon the heavy
feeling passed off. He was surprised to
see Hassan, Monkton's Hindu servant,
talking to some soldiers, who evidently
seemed guarding his door, What could
1T mean? He called Hassan feebly.
What Is the matter Have / been
i'll ?" he asked.
yes, Sahib. Too much brandy, Sahib
Cameron said, and they have gone l
was to look after you till it had passed"
And Hassan, as he turned away, had a
malignant light in his dark eyes.
"Too much brandy What do you
meant" gasped Laurence, the blood rush
ing to his face How dare you? l had
no brandy last night. 1t must be the
sun. | feel like it. What are those men
doing there ?" he asked, turning his head
towards the soldiers who were listening
to every word. Did you think should
be violent 2"
orders" And the Hindu shrugged his
shoulders with true native humility.
! you go when well with them to the can
Torment at Maloor, and then to Delhi.
You under arrest. Sahib"
An uncomfortable thrill went through
Laurence. What did it all mean?
81 tell you, fellow, | had no brandy.
1 had nothing but lemon and soda, and,
yes, oh, some coffee last night! If it is
not the sun, l have been drugged. BY
heaven, | have'
Hassen shook his head, smiling grimly.
! What this bottle, then, Sahib?" hold
ing up the empty brandy bottle.
! Laurence felt too i'll to argue, and,
| feeling he was in the mans power, made
no answer, so YEARLY rose and dressed.
! and soon after they started on their way
back, back on the road he had travelled
| only yesterday so full of hope and life
Now he was going back under arrest!
| Drunk on active service!" Good
heaven, what did it mean? He had read
! the written instructions and saw that
what Hassan had said was correct. They
! had left that worthy bowling ironically
at the door of the Oak bungalow The
sun glared down on the wide trunk road
lined with magnificent forest trees. huge
peepul and the teak with its enormous
/ leaves. The hills lay all blue behind
! them.
Nothing stirred but a family of sleek
monkeys which numbered lazilv from
| tree to tree. Laurence found himself
watching them as if he had nothing else
to think of. When some great blow has
! fallen it is the trifes of life that seem
to eat into our soul. All was over, he
knew it! The career he had looked for.
ward to from his boyhood.
Druulyl HDur bo 1.,orJ I-or4
ing through his brain. What would
Norah say?
What would MS father think, his dear
old dad, far away in England. so proud
of his soldier son? The general and Her
mon had seen him, so Hassan had told
him, and said they both thought him
drunk
Cashiered! That is what it meant.
He could never hold lbs head up again
among his kind Always that dreadful
sentence, "The man who was cashiered
/ you know!" It rang increasingly in his
ears, and try as he would he could not
prove it otherwise and est3 blisn his IN
nocence of the charge
No, he could not even at the court
martial at Delhi, where he sat all day
in the sickening heat where the insects
buzzed away with their irritating zig
zigzig in the drowsy silence of the wait
ing court.
His majesty has no further need of
/ your services" The words fell on his
dazed senses, and at last all was over
and he left the court a dishonored man
his only comfort a sheet of paper with
out even q signature.
II believe in you and your story. The
truth will be known some day. Be COM
forted and hope"
1t was like the true brave hearted girl
to send a word of sympathy to the
broken, faded man. He knew it was
Norah's handwriting, and with a NUT
tered Heaven bless her." he put the
slip of paper with his mothers portrait
and went out into those far off tracts of
unexplored jungle, the wide, sun scorched
plains of central India.
Six years had passed since Laurence
Harcourt had disappeared into the I'M
known. Very soon the scandal was an
old story in the busy life of India, the
constant coming and going. A life story
however tragic it may be, is soon for
gotten. At first there came every now
and then vague rumors of a man called
Laurence Court, who was doing great
work in the forest department in far off
central India.
No one quite knew how or why Lau-
renee Court had the vacant post offered
him, he hardly knew himself, but over
hundreds and hundreds of miles of jun
gle and forest he held his own undis-
puted sway. His quarters were in a
large solitary bungalow, standing in an
extensive compound little way off the
great highway to civilization.
One evening the fierce May sun was
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