The Pulaskian., 1916-09-01

taken something from the pocket of her mantle and held it to his lips. Drink this!s she commanded tersely.
 Its of no good.''
 ''I wish it. You must have strength to listen to me" He yielded and lay still, his bright delirious eyes fixed in tently on the long white track of stars above him, as though it was from thence that her voice came to him. "It is not likely that we shall meet again, she went on rapidly, land I want you to remember what I am saying-as long as you live. I am not unhappy, Richard-remember that 1 have gam bled away my heritage in a mad hour, and 1 have no right even to sorrow. l love you. I thank God that you came into my life. Remember that" She bent over him and with her handker- chief brushed the sweat of breaking fever from his forehead. Gan you hear me still, Richard-can you still understand me?"
 II understand" he answered.
 You must live-for my sake. I am only poor human being-I cannot do without you on my earth. And then you cannot throw down your weapons now"
 He started, as though at some far off, familiar sound.
 "That is what the little gray lady would have said. We cannot throw down our weapons in the first skir- mish.' have often thought of that. Tell her-I have not forgotten
 Il will tell her"
 He was silent a moment. Then his eyes opened fully, and smile of bril- liant hope, as of a man who has laid strong hands on an adverse fate, flashed over his wan features.
 We must go on-at whatever cost we must go on," he cried hoarsely. And with swift change of tone, infinitely pathetic i'll it's sheer joy and gratitude: How beautiful you are, how beauti- ful-''
 That was all. His voice, reused for that brief moment in the strength of q reborn happiness, passed like a ripple on the face of the deep silence. Very gently she slipped the long cloak from her shoulders and laid it over him. He did not move. The long-drawn-out seconds became minutes, the minutes hours. One by one the great host of watchers above them flashed out, leav- ing blank waste of darkness. A chill wind, sand-laden from the south. brushed against her face. Still she knelt there, with the mans uncon- scious head against her knees, her eyes fixed in proud strong patience on the western sky, where slowly, almost im- perceptibly, the dawn was breaking. In all the glory of reawakened life the pale-gold heralds of the morning rose above the distant horizon and, gather ing warmth and deeper fire as they swept the desert, broke in one mingled flood against the topmost minarets, which glowed back in splendid an swer. The biyouac fires had long since ] died out, and the sickly ghost of night crept back into the groves of olive. From the high tower of the mosque a white-robed figure greeted the one God in solemn thanksgiving-
 Holiness to thee, o God, praise be to thee. Great is thy namer'
 Then came the gay, joyous call of a bugle and the clatter of arms. The woman rose slowly to her feet. She stood for a moment facing the grandeur of rising light; then she bent down, and with swift strong hands bound the unresisting figure into a semblance of it's first helplessness. Stern indignation blazed in her eyes as she lifted them for a moment, but she neither f1inched nor hesitated. Only as stifled groan broke from the blood less lips she bent lower and kissed him.
 Forgive me. God bless you, dear"
 He smiled faintly, as though in apol- ogy, in weak unconscious gratitude, then, signing, passed from stupor into peaceful dreamless sleep.