Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 39, Number 89, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 12 July 1907 — “WHAT NEWS?” CRIED THE MAJOR. [ARTICLE]

“WHAT NEWS?” CRIED THE MAJOR.

continued Henry, pointing to where Sarah sat, unconscious of what was passing—“I had hoped for an opportunity to avenge her wrong;” a flush of excitement passed over his features; “but such thoughts are evil —I feel them to be wrong. Under your care, Peyton, she will find sympathy and refuge.” “She shall." whispered Dunwoodie. “This good aunt has claims upon you already; of her I will not speak; but here,” taking the hand of Frances, “here is the choicest gift of all. Take her to your bosom, and cherish her as you would cultivate innocence and virtue.” The major eould not repress the eagerness with which he extended his hand to receive the precious boon ; but Frances, shrinking from his touch, hid her face in the bosom of her aunt.

“No, no, no!” she murmured; "none can ever be anything to me who aid in my brother’s destruction.” "There is yet time to see Washington again,” said Miss Teyton. “I will go myself, surely he will listen to a woman from his own colony!—and we are in some degree connected with his family.” "Why not apply to Mr. Harper?” Baid Frances, recollecting the parting words of their guest for the first time. “Harper?” echoed Dunwoodie, turning toward her with the swiftness of lightning; “what of him? do you know him?” “He stayed with us for two days—he was with us when Henry was arrested.” “And —and—did you know him?” “Nay,” continued Frances, catching her breath as she witnessed the intense interest of her lover; “we know him not; he came to us in the night, a stranger, and remained with us during the severe storm; but he seemed to take an interest in Ilenry, and promised him his friendship.” "What!” exclaimed the youth, in astonishment ; "did he know your brother?” “Certainly—it was at his request that Henry threw aside his disguise.” “But,” said Dunwoodie, turning pale with suspense, “he knew him not as an oßcer of the royal army?” “Indeed he did.” cried Mis Peyton; “and be cautioned us against this very lancer.” Dun Woodie caught up the fatal paper, that still lay where it bad fallen from his own hands, and studied its characters intently. Something seemed to bewilder his brain. He passed his band over his forehead, while each eye was fixed on him in dreadful suspense—all feeli*afraid to admit those hopes an«w that had once Ixd-n so sadly destroyed. “What said he? what promised he?” at length Dunwoodie asked, with feverish impatience.

“He bid nenry apply to him when in danger, and promised to requite the son for the hospitality of the father." “Then.” cried the youth aloud, and fielding to bis rapture, “then you are safe —then will I save him; yes. Harper will never forget his Word. Rest easy, for Ilenry is safe." He waited not to explain, but darted from the room, he left the family in amazeemnk They rontainued in silent wonder until they heard tbs feet of his

f • charger, as he dashed from the door wftfe the speed of an arrow... <- f- ;• •• When Ae major reappeared in his air there was the appearance of neither shecess nor defeat, but thwre was-a marked display of vexation. fit took the hand that Frances7*in the fullness of her heart, extended,. Joward him, hut threw himself into a chair, imeyiijlent fatigue. “Have you seen Harper?” cried France*. ‘ * «■■■ '‘l,have not; I crossed the river in one boat as he must bare been coining to this side in another. I returned without delay, and traced him for several miles into the Highlands, but there I unaccountably lost -him. I have returned here to relieve yo*r uneasiness; but see him I will this night, and bring a respite for Henry.” “But you saw Washington?” asked Miss Peyton. Dunwoodie gazed at her a moment in abstracted musing, and the question was repeated. lie answered gravely, and with soifiereserve: “The commander-in-chief had left his quarters.” Frances related particularly the manner of Harper’s arrival at the Locusts. As she alluded to the conversation that occurred between her father and his gtiest, the major smiled, but remained silent. She then gave a, detail of Henry arrival, and the events of the following day. Sb« dwelt upon the part where Harper had desired her brother to throw aside his diaguise, and recounted, with wonderful accuracy, his remarks upon the *hazard of the step that the yotrth had taken. She even remembered a remarkable expression of his to her brother, “that he was safer JEmsc Harper's knowledge of his perron than he would be without it.” Frances mentioned, with the warmth of youthful admiration, the benevolent character of his deportment to herself, and gave a minute relation of his adieus to the whole family. Dunwoodie at first listened with grave attention; evident satisfaction followed as she proceeded. When she spoke brherself, in connection with their guest, ht smiled with pleasure, and as she concluded, he exclaimed with delight: “We are safe !—we are safe!”

CHAPTER XXII. The good woman of the house was a strict adherent to the forms of the church to which she belonged; and having herself been awakened to a sense of her depravity by the ministry of the di vine who harangued the people of the adjoining parish, she thought it was front his exhortations only that salvation could he meted outtotheshartdived hopes of Henry Wharton. With her, the consideration of death was at all times awful; and the instant that the sentence of the prisoner was promulgated, she dispatched Csesar, mounted on one of her husband’s best horses, in quest of her clerical monitor. The black returned early from bis expedition, and, as well as could be gathered from his somewhat incoherent narrative, a minister of God might be expected to arrive in the course of the day. At the intercession of Dunwoodie, orders had been given to the sentinel who guarded the door of Henry's room that the members of the prisoner's family should, at ail times, have free access to his apartment ; Ca?sar was included in this arrangement. A short conversation was passing between the woman of the house and the corporal of the guard. “Would you refuse the consolations of religion to a fellow creature about to suffer death?” said the matron, with earnest _ xeal.

“I’ll tell you what, good woman,” returned the corporal, gently pushing her away; “I’ve no notion of my back being a highway for any man to walk to heaven upon. Just step down and ask Lieutenant Mason, and you may bring in the whole congregation." “Admit the woman,” said Dunwoodie, sternly, observing for the first time that one of his own corps was on post. The corporal raised his hand to his cap, and fell back in silence; the soldier stood to his arms, and the matron entered. “Here is a reverend, gentleman below, come to soothe the parting soul 7 in the place of our own divine, who is engaged with an appointment not be put aside.” “Show him in,” said Henry, with feverish impatience. “But will the sentinel let him pass? I would not wish him to be rudely stopped on the threshold, and he a stranger.” (To v>e continued.)