Year: 1874

lCoNTINUED FROM YESTERDAY.
No one did stop her long; almost no
men and very few women gave her hard
looks or words. She walked on day after
day with a patience and pertinacity almost
sublime. She carried nothing with her
but a tin cup and maybe cake or slice
for the child. They never lay down hun
cry but twice or thrice, and then they
were lost in the wild country, away from
any house. The two won hearts wherev-
er they came; they were doubly armed.
Men were kind to the woman: women
were kind to the child.


Heat, cold. dust, rain, hunger, weari-
ness, and cruelty; hard fare, and desc
late lodging; these were the daily incl
dents through which she went sturdily,
stolidly trudging southwark by the week
together. They made little figure in her
narrative to Trap, but he knew them all
nevertheless. And all this while she
talked, the child lay placidly sleeping in
the shadow on the grass, with his cheek
on the soldiers arm. Trap let the branch
swing up then, and showed himself coiled
ungainly by the boy and chewing great
cud of leaves and grass.


II had chap like him once" he said,
without any special expression in his face,
and putting one finger on the child's cheek.
Hes dead, and I'm glad of it. His
mother would't walk ten rods to keep me
from being hung"


He got up and went away without an
other word. A few minutes later he came
slouching in at the prison gate, leering
savagely at long Staples with his tongue
in the corner of his mouth, and the sentry
1sc haa1 on1 would hor
liked to run him through with his bayonet
on the spot. Trap crossed the prison yard
and entered the rickety out-building which
had been made the hospital. There were
plenty in the place. desperate and desc
late enough; but Trap saw at glance
that his usual luck was with him. There
were none of the guards within. Storrs,
the dispenser of medicines, and one or two
other attendants from the prisoners, were
all beside the sick. He pushed through to
the far end where Larcom lay, alone in
that crowded house of misery. His face
was turned to the wall, and he did not
look or move. Trap took him by the
shoulder and shook him roughly.


"Now then, you dam Yank,' he said.
"do YOU want to see your Dutch Kate and
her young one! 7"


The prisoner turned over with single
motion as if an electric shock had struck
him.


"She's walked from home to see you.
She's the biggest fool God ever made" :"
the fellow went on. And he sneered.
"If l let you out to see her you'll come
back again, won't you ?"


Il will," was the low reply. "God help
you. if you're hoaxing me-"


"Speak for yourself, Trap snarled. 81
don't want no help" He threw off his
cap and coat. "Get up and put them on"
he commanded. Larc0m did not stop to
think whether he was able or not. Trap
fished out pair of boots and trousers from
under the rude bed, and bade him put
them on. He did not care much who saw
or heard him ifhe had taken prisoners
arm and walked him out of the gate in
broad day, it would have been an even
chance whether the guards would have
stopped them or said Trap was up to some
new deviltrv, and the Yanks had best lie
lew. Now it was dusk and he knew there
was no one there who would interfere.
The boots had fitted Larcom once he put
his feet into what was left ofthem without
any need Of pulling.


"They're at Kirby's spring; You ought
to know it," the brutal guard sneered
again. Now git"


Larcom marched out and across the
yard. Staples was still on guard at the
gate. He recognized Traps coat and cap
as they came near, and turned his back.
The uniforms of the guards had reached
that degree of tatters and patches that
they had acquired an individuality easily
recognized. Larcom walked out at the
gate and round the angle of the walls,
and was a free man once more. You and
l must have the like experience (and
pray God that neither we nor any ever
may again. before can tell or you un-
derstand what those words mean. In five
minutes more the battered fellow is where
we will not follow him. But we may pic
ture him lying among the bushes, the
stold woman whose love and faith have
conquered all things for his sake mourn
ing and rejoicing brokenly over him. And
he has the little chap at last, pressed ever
so close to his heart.


Night settled down upon Finchley prison
one evening after its desolate fashion.
just at dusk there came walking up the
stairs and into the old ward man in
the uniform of the guards. He crossed
the room to Browns and Larcom's old
bunk and sat down. The places were va
cant, and had been since the two men left
The prisoners drew away from the
stranger, talking together sullenly and
looking over their shoulders at him with
no friendly faces. Then Dexter strobe up
to him and spoke.


"Now then, you Reb, what do you want
here? Move on now. or you'll get hove
out"


The stranger took off his cap and showed
his face, about as ghastly and deathlike as
ever walked on foot. He smiled in their
angry faces, and said,-


"lt's only me, it amt no Reb. Don't
you know me, Billy?"


And Dexter cried out, ''By Judas, it's
old Lark. How are you Lark P" and he
offered his hand.


But Larcom put it away weakly
THANK y, Billy; not just yet. Wait till
( tell y how it's. Come around, boys,
and give me chance; Pm about played
out. Boys, l went back on to you that
time, and you was pretty heavy on me,
and dont't know as can blame you.
But calculate I've made it even now.
I,va coop INV 1ittlo chan horS. I,ya haop