Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 3, Number 48, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 31 May 1873 — Page 6

isOLOMON RA Y. BY ECGKSE J. HALL.

A hard, close man wu» Solomon Raj- I Gothics of value be gave away a Hehoarded and saved.

And be pinched and shaved _» And the more be bad, the more ne craved.

Tbe hard earned dollar* he tolled to gain Brought him Utile tut care and pain For 11 ttle he spen t,

And all that lent He made It bring him back twenty percent.

This was the life of Solomon Ray, Toe years went by, and his balr grew gray His cheeks grew thin

And his heart within Grew hard as the dollars he worked to win.

Bat be died one day, as all men mast,s For life Is fleeting, and man bnt dnsi And tbe heir* were guy

That laid him away This was tbe end of Solomon Ray.

They quarreled now, who had little cared For Solomon while his life was spared His lands weie sold,

And his liard-earned gold All went to the lawyers, I am told. Tet men will plncb, and cheat, and save. Nor carry their treasure* beyond the grave

All their gold, some day Will melt away, Like the scdltali savings of Solomon Ray.

Bcrlbner's Monthly—Jane.

Captain Luce's Enemy.

The great army moved down upon the river and encamped above the enemy'i strong hold, 'l'bore was dredging and digging and bard, patient weeks ot approach to bo spent before the plan of attack could be fairly tried. The country waited in impatience, and the army toiled and watchcd, ana each individual soldier and citizen lived meanwhile the separate and private life of thought and feeling, of which tbe visible existence is but the mask* or expression more or less dimly comprehended. It is of this underlying and more real life of two or three out of the millions of actors in that tremendous drama that I am going to tell the story now. ,,

A carriage with two ladles and a very old negro driver came to headquarters of one of tbe brigades one day about noon, and the general for whom they inquired came out courteously to hear What they would have. The elderly lady Introduced herself and her daughter. explained that their house and lands adjoined his lines, and that the men of the neighborhood being all In the southern armies, they were naturally exposed to annoyance and uneasiness, and she asked to have a guard for protection ot themselves and their property. Tho general promised to see to the matter, made a note of tbe name and place: "Mrs. Forrest, ol Cottoowood Plantation," two or three miles to the southwest. In consequence of that interview. Captain Luce of the "Fessenden Riflemen" was presently detailed to post a guard at the Forests' place, and rodo over in person the first day Luce was a good soldier, a rather sober fellow, somewhat reserved and sharp with men, and a littly shy among Indies not handsome, but of a good presence, and very much liked by his men. The two ladies were trueSoutheners, but of the better class. They were proud of their State and tho Confederacy, and scornful of the North but that aside, they were well-bred, tolerably informed, superior in mauners, and bearing. It was no easy matter, that first interview of the young officer with his fair enemies. But he determined to have an understanding with them, if possible, aud know fust where he stood in tho place. So after the first awkward difficulty of introducing himself, and the reserved and distant response which was not unnatural from the lonely ladies towards a strango man and an enemy whom circumstances forced them to receive, he said

My men havo strict instructions as to their duty, and I wish you to report immediately any disrespect or annoyance which thoy may show or permit. I will come or send as often as I can to see about it, and shall do my best to make vour home secure and pleasant. Hut I must ask you to remember that we are soldiers in an enemy's country, and exposed on your account. The men must not bo annoyed or harshly treatod. You will easily see that they must regard an insult to them as aimed at tho cause thoy represent by its enemies, and one that they aro bound in honor to resent. I say this forvonr own sakes, wishing to save you trouble in the future. 1 do not respect you tbe less for taking sides with your Htatc, and do not wonder that you do notlovo us forfightingyour friends and desolating your couutrv. Hut you must remember that there are two sides to the question that your friend* would boat homo if they could and I hope that some of them would see that my mother and sister camo to no harm. I bellovothat they would."

Ik'glnuiugthus squarely, and continuing to show tho same simple, downright, but courteous bearing in his visits, the first constraint and somewhat haughty politeness of tho ladies melted imperceptibly into a respectful familiarity and confidence.

The younger lady's name was EUen. She was rather tall, with an almost martial carriage, so straight, and

froud,

and straight-forward, disdaln-

ng little arts and graces, turning neither to the right nor left. She did not bello the intelligence that lighted up ber fine face she was unusually well wad in books of the lighter kind. That alone would have kindled a friendly feeling la the captain, who was something of a student aud froai the first he was piqued by her self-contained manner, and admired her simple dignity and the quickness and keenness shown In what she said. With the growing confidence which constant Intercourse with the young soldier Inspired, her reserve wore off, and they became good friends, in a way. But the frank kindness that took the place of the young lady's first manner, had the same qualities of self-reliance and courage behind it, and Luce felt very sensibly that he held his friendly footing uprn sufferance and straight walking, and that one step aside would preel pita to him from It and tbe further he went in that path the less did he care to fall out of it.

Luce presently found himself contriving to be at Cottonwood a great many times In a week, and his mind going back there more and more as he went about his duty. He bad a small number of favorite books with him in camp, and seme of them presently found their way to the Forest mansion, and some with the name of that family on the fly-leaves took their place la the officers' tent of company C. Luce began to have a great liking fer talking over Thackeray with Miss Ellen. Sbo shared the incomprehensible dislike of her sex for that author, and she and the captain had many a talk, goodhumored but sincere, and sometimes serious, over tbe master's men and women. But when Luoe went over these discussions in his mind, It was not so much of the weight of the argument that he found himself thinking as of tho lady's keen instinct, ber quickness

W:

and delicacy of perception, and her shrinking from falishood snd impurity ami difficulty In believing them.

But digging and dredging could not last forever and one day Captain Luce woke up and found that the army Fas beginning to move again. His division was yet undisturbed, but he knew the marching orders would come before long, and the thought brought him a dull new feeling not at all pleasant.

He'did not find the ache grow less by sleeping on it. and indeed he was late failing asleep and awoke very early. He made an errand to ride °vw

Cottonwood in the

to

morning,foand

She was doing

Miss

Rilec alone, and told ber of bis near departure. When we went Into camp here.' he said, 'I was fretted by the delay, and now we are going, reel as if I were leaving home. He laughed a little, rather ruefully.

some n^

ework. and

she laid it down, and looked ver»t him thoughtfully. 'So you're Koing awav to fight my friends.' she said. •Doesn't it seem strange that you and I. sitting here, should be enemies?* 'It seems crazy,' be answered. He was leaning against the open window. He drew bis sword and let the sun glitter on the polished blade. It was a pretty thing and made for a pretty use, be thought. This business he was in took for the moment that look of grotesque and incredible madness and folly tbat It does now and then, I suppose, to us all. The lady was sitting with a serious face and her eyes cast down, seeming to debate something in her mind. When she looked up he was sliding the bright blade back in the scabbard.

Captain Luce,* she said, 'you have been very kind. I am going to ask one more favor of you.' 'I will do anything for you consistent with my duty,' he said.

She bade him wait, and went out and came back with an ordinary card photograph, which she put into his hand. It was the picture of a handsome young fellow in the uniform of a Southern cavalry soldier, 'Is it your brother?' Luce asked, glanclnt at the finer living face before him. 'He looks a little like you.

No, he is a friend,' she said, blushing very slightly. 'His name Is Morris —William Morris. He was a captain in the twenty-sixth Tennessee regiment when I last heard of him.'

Luce looked at her while she was speaking, and then turned away and looked out at the bright land and sky, and it was as If a black cloud had drawn suddenly over both. He put the card back to her without looking, and said rather coolly:

Well, what do you want me to do7' Will you be back here again?' I suppose I can cotne once more if there is any need,' he answered. *I)o you care?' •Certainly. I shall be very sorry when j'ou go. It's a dark time for us, you know, and you have been very friendly. I shall miss you sadly.'

Thank you. You're very good,' You will come to-morrow, then. Keep the picture till you come. I want you to familiariz" yourself with it, so you will know Captain Morris if you should meet. You are my friend, too, now, and don't you see how terrible it would be If yeu should meet and hurt one another?' and she shuddered and turned her pained face aside. He took a step or two awav and sat down by the table, and she came and sat down opposite. He held out tbe card with the face down, and answered sternly:

He is tho enemy of my country, I am a soldier. I must do my duty.' I do not ask you to do otherwise,' she replied, a little proudly. 'If you should fall Into the bands of our soldiers, and should meet Captain Morris, if you will give him my name I am certain ho will do you any kindness In his power. Is it too much to ask you to do the same by him. Will you keep the picture till to-morrow 'Ifyou wish it,' he answered, and drew back the card and took a long look at the brave, frank face, and manly figure of the trooper.

It was late In the afternoon of the following day when the captain came galloping up the Cottonwood avenue, and sent off the guard. His black horse was white with foam. Miss Ellen met him at the door, and he took a last look at the picture as he handed it back to her, and said:

I shall know him if he looks like his picture. I haven't a minute to watt. I could hardly get off at all. All the troops are off but ours, and we break camp at daybreak. I must bid vou good bye. Is your mother at home?'

Mrs. Forest was quickly called, and they shook bands and said good-bye. expressing their hearty

r®gr®t

hopes of mooting again. And then the captain mounted and rode off, turning to wave his cap and smile, at the corner, and then, plunging spurs Into his mare, went 'galloping down the rows of trees with a great lump In his throat, and only a dim view of the flying wood and the fields tawny with sunset.

Siege and capitulation, movements by rail and river, hard marching,weary camping, forays, skirmishes, battles, bloody victories and bloody repulses followed one another and removed Luce farther and farther from Cottonwood, and might have easily worn out alight impression. But it seldom needed more than night, or danger, or leisure thought to bring to his mind's sight a proud, straight girl, with a serious face, as he remembered it best—and renewed the ache and handkering he had brought away with him. He had seen many thousands of tbe enemy, dead and alive had, Indoed, been sent north In charge of a train of prisoners, but none or his inquiries for Captain Morris met with success. In fact he knew that out of the millions engaged in the enormous contest, It was a thousand to one that they two would ever meet.

One pleasant Monday in May the regiment was ordered to capture a uerilla band that had taken quarters the mountain hamlet of Steubenville, and it moved out on the South Notch rond. Some miles down the valley. Colonel Grlerson rode np to the front of company C. 'Captain Luce,' he commanded, 'take your company up this old road to the right. It comes out on Bloomsburry turnpike, a mile west of Stenblnvllle. They will most likely ruo that way.'

So company filed off and marched along the rough old road. Some hours after a messenger met them and ordered them back to oamp. Luce was riding at the head of the oolamn. A horseman came round a bend some Us**ace ahead, with the sun on his foe®. When Luce caught sight of him he bent forward and studied him Intently a minute, and then halted hi* men and rode on alone to meet tbe stranger. The latter came along slowly awl his none looked tired. He wore the drew of a Union captain of volunteers and was therefore of the same ran* as Luce.

When they we re near each other Lace challenged him, and he saluted aad an* swered simply: \TTf dis Rosecrans to been riding since daylight, and my

'I carry'dispatches from General General Grant. I have

•1'KK.RE-HADTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL. MAY 31. 187b.

horse Is nearly played out. Where Is q»l«ly: "T.. are Captain William Morris, of the Twenty sixth Tennessee. You are a

*PA flash of surprise and consternation •hot through the stranger's faoe, and his hsnd sprsng to bis sword, but stopped with it half drawn. Luce was before him, and the muzzle of his pistol was not three feet from the stranger's head. 'Don'tdraw.' he said. I don't want to hurt you. You are my prisoner.'

You Insult me,' was Ihe bold reply. •I told you the truth. I will report you to tbe general. There, do you know that signature? You slop me at your

EUC3

srll.' And be drew out and showed a letter to all loyal commanders, instructing them to aid and furnish Captain Browning and help him on bis av. But Luce persisted: 'I take the risk. You are not Captain Browning. You area rebel officer of cavalry, and you come^froni Earlaburgh.'

He was plainly startled by that, but answered, doggedly, 'There's no use of me telling you anything. You seem to know more about me than I do myself'

Captain Morris,' said Luce, 'I don't want to expose you just now. You see I can disarm you and give you in charge. Give me your word that you will not uso your arms without warning.'

I promise. I am In your power.' So the two captains rode on at the head of the company. The stranger kept a sullen silence for a while, glancing again and again at Luce's face. By aud by be said:

I am certain I never saw you before in my life. I'm shot If I see what makes you think you know me.' »I have seen your picture,' answered Luce. 'I know Miss Forest of Cottonwood.'

1

Ob, the devil you do!' was the flashing response, and Morris made no further attempt at concealment. 'What do yoti know of her? What do you mean?'

Just then they fell in with tho main body coming down a side road, and as they dropped into their places into the regiment, the colonel rode up to Luce and spoke to him.

4

They took to the woods, captain, on the east side. But we got Gridlv and Haines. Did you meet Westcott? I sent him to look for you. By the way, who have you here?

Then Morris thought his time had come but he set his teeth and waited for his exposure with a defiant face. To his utter surprise, Luce answered the colonel:

This Is Captain Morris, whom I met back here. He Is carrying dispatches from Gen. Rosecrans to Gen. Grant. I am going to keep him to-night.' The colonel saluted and rode on.

Keep-close to my side,' Luce said, low and sternly,without looking round. •Don't try to escape unless you want to be hung.''

Morris did as he was bidden, and they rode into camp side by side, and one could hardly have told which was the sterner face. Luce gave the horses in charge and led Morris to bis quarters. •Give mo all the papers you have about you,' he said.

Morris gave him several. 'Those are all but private letters, to which you have no right.' 'Verv well. Promise me you will not try to escape whilo I let you go free.' -r

I suppose I must promise. I do.' They went in, and Luce introduced Morris to the officers' mess, as he bad to the colonel. Morris said little, and Luce was absent and stem. He went out on some duty, and by and by came and called Morris out. They walked away alone, and Morris faced Luce presently and demanded: 'Now then, I want you to tell me what you know about Miss Forest.'

Luce told him in a few words how he had guarded her home the previous spring.

And she showed you my picture 4 Yes.' Oh, by heaven now, I don't understand!'Morris swore fiercely, moving about in excitement. 'How did she come to do tbat How long were you there? What business had you there, anyway? I swear you're enough to drive a man mad. I'd shoot you in a minute if I hadn't given my word.'

Ob, come now, don't bluster!' Luce answered, and told him the simple manner in which It camo about and Morris questioned sharply until he knew almost all she had said about him. That quieted him, and he foil to meditating. Luce sat on a fallen tree and thought, in no easy or pleasinp humor. Then Morris stood before him and said: •Well, are you going to report *ne?' •You area spy against my country. I must do my duty.'

You would haye done the same you were ordered,' Morris answered. And what would you do if you to me?' said Luce.

Morris turned away abruptly. The. he turned back. You know nothing about me bu information given you in confidence b\ a lady, and partly out of favor to your self. Can you use that? Is that your Yankee honor?

Luce's hand went to his pistol and he said, 'Don't tempt me.' But could not help a feeling of admiration for the young fellow's simple and gallant bearing. That and his perplexity, and a faco and voice which their talk called up, affected him with a great gentleness and melancholy. •Sit down here, Morris,' he said. Isn't it a crooked world? Hore tfre we camping out a thousand miles from home, to kill you, and your fellows camping somewhere to come aud kill us. You and I represent the two sides: two young men with like passions and both trying to walk straight, I guoss. And here we've oome to the blindest piece of road I ever beard of. I can't see any way out of it—I declare I can't.' And when we consider how duty and honor seemed for once to have gone to war, was not our brave captain tied np In about as knotty snarl as ever was tangled

Morris was somewhat awed by Luce's new mood and manner. They sat stilt awhile and looked at tho dim outlines of tbe camp below them, and the lights here and there among the tents, but doubtless neither saw much of all that. After a while Luoe asked abroptly:

Are you engaged to Miss Forest Morris started up, but answered, •No.'

You are in love with her?* I should think so,' he answered, looking np hurriedly and standing np, quivering as he spoke.

!1

And Luoe said, "So am L' Morris said something that I shall not repeat, and stamped on the ground.

You've no business. I was first^nd you had ne right to step in when I was away.'

Come now,' Loos said, Impatiently, •don't let's be children. Yon know I didn't know anything about you, and I didnt go—I was sent. It's too late for •ought to have' and 'hadn't.' Yon and I are In tbe same boat, snd neither of

ns has mneb right to And fault with lbs other. Wa can't bo expected to love one another, I suppose but 1 don't want any man's shoes, and If you've got a right to warn tne off I want to know it. Has she shown you any special favor?'

The Northener's freedom snd sincerity, and tbe very evident em«tion below bis sober manner, moved the other to a passionate frankness. 'No she's too proud. She cares more fur the Confederacy than for all tbe men in it. I wonder she let you come into the bouse. 8be would have gone to fight you Yankeea herself if they'd have taken her. She thought me a coward because I didn't run and enlist at the first shout. I couldn't leave ber. I was mad with love for her, and I thought I couldn't come away. Then she was angry and despised me, aud I came away in a rage. I sent ber mv picture in my new uniform, and I 'never knew she got it till now. That was the ono you saw. Did sbo seem to care about it—or—or about me

That's a hard question for me to answer fairly, Isn't it But, honestly I don't know/ Luce replied.

Morris walked up and down, and Luce sat thinking darkly a good while with his bead down. Morris stopped before him and aaked rather sharply •Well, What are you going to do with me?' And Luce said, *1' if I know.'

Luco bad- to go about some duty, and Morris said tbe night was fine and he would wait for him outside. Luce came back and found him lying wrapped in bis blanket, and he said:

I don't know what to do. put It t-o you. What would you do if you took me so?'

And Morris thought awhile, and answered I don't know it's a tough place. Don't leave it to me.'

It was late, and Luce made him come into his tent, and they lay down together, and when Morris was asleep, Luce turned and tossed and tormented himself with doubts and misgivings and happy or heart-sick thrills and memories and fears. He heard the young Southerner moving and muttering in his sleep.

Early In the morning he called Morris out. Were those dispatches of importance to your commanders Were you to take them back

I was to destroy them after they had served my purpose. Tbey are in cipher and could not be read.'

They are? Have they been long delayed ?f Not an hour. Browning was captured at Kilgrave Wednesday night, and I took his uniform and came on at daylight.' •And you would not have delivered them

Not if I could help it. And I suppose I could.' Then Luce saw his way. He could make bis knowledge serve the cause, and yet not break his faith with Miss Forest. Not that he ever thought of doing that, but it was hard to see how not. He said: •Promise me you will go straight back where you came from and will give no information against us.'

And Morris looked at hlin and answered I promise, on a soldl9r's honor!'

Luce ordered his horse to be brought, and motioned him to mount. Ho walked by tbe horse through the citinp, and looked at his watch. 'I'll give vou half an hour,' be said.

Make the best of it. Go«d-bye,' and he offered bis band. Morris took it and held it. 'Give me your address,' he said—'at home and here.'

Luce told him both, and he repeated them slowly twice. Then ke said •Captain Luce, you're a straight fellow, and I owe you for this. I shall not forget. Geod-bye.' He put spurs, to his horse, and dashed off. Half an hour later Luce went to the colonel and told hlin as much of the truth as was necessary, handed him tbe dispatches, and gave himself In charge,expecting disgrace and punishment. Col. Grierson naturally found It no light matter to connive at the escape of a spy, and spoke very sharply. Captain Luce went to his quarters and sent bis sergeant back with his sword. Bat tbe colonel knew Luce's character for courage and honor, and saw the difficulty of his position, and he sent back the sword with word to keep it till it was sent for, and tbat was tbe last Luce beard of the matter. The dispatches were duly carried and delivered.

The autumn pnesod and the winter, with their

dream*

of lighting and

camping. On a Sunday In June there came a letter to Luce in a strange hand. It was dated at a Union hospital, somewhere in tho East, and was this:—

Captain Luce—I was wounded and captured a month ago. Am paroled, and shall be well enough to travel soon, Am going home. I don't know what to do. Wish to heaven I had never seen you. But that is no fault of yours, and I suppose you wish there was no such a fellow as me. You had meinyour power and took no advantage, but acted like a brave and honorable gentleman. I must do no less. I have inquired, and hear tbat your regiment's time is about run out. If so, can't you come home with me, or meet me there I suppose you didn't leave my people any ricnor, but such as there is you shall have, and my sister will make you welcome.

I hope you got into no serious trouble on my account. You ran a great risk unless you destroyed tbe papers,which I don't suppose you did.'

It was signed William Morris. Luce's time had expired. He had no intention of leaving the service,but he made his re-volunteerlng tha means of procuring leave of absence. He went East and found Morris in the hospital his wound healed, bnt not strong enough to travel aione. Luce took him in charge, and they started west. Tbey traveled slowly, and Morris gained strength by the way. Tbey were very friendly, aud talked frankly together a good deal about the war, with the respect which a soldier feels for an honorable enemy. Bot neither of them mentioned Miss Forest's name ail the way.

Hie Morris place bad been farther away from the army's path than Cottonwood, and bad suffered less. Morris' father was blind, and bad, ofoonrse remained with his daughter Florence. Both father and daughter received Lucw warmly npon Morris's introduction and account of their relations, which, as may be supposed, was not qnite full, but made up in warmth to such an extent as made Luce ashamed. Morris felt too mnch fatigued after his journey to ride for. He asked Luce about tbe position of bis camp when be was there before, and said tbat was about ten miles north-east, from which Luoe interred that Cottonwood was abont eight or ten miles north. But bis fotigne did not prevent blm from riding with Luce and Miss Florence east, west, and south. Luoe was thrown great deal in tbe young lady's company, in foci, and found it very pleasant snd sprightly company too*

After a day or two Morris wss much occupied with bis fotber, arranging tbeir rather disordered affairs, but he made his sister entertain Luoe snd show him this snd thst point about the country. A week or two passed so, and neither had apoken of Miss Forest. Luce began to wonder what tbey were waiting for. One afternoon tne two captains rode to a plaoe five or six miles north, on business. They took different road back, which led to the west at first, and across tbe high bill. The sun was low, and as tbey came on the hill-top, a very pretty stretch of sunny lands before them. Tbey both paused and looked northward. Far away Luce saw a bouse and lands that excited a familiar thrill in him. When he turned away Morris was bending forward eagerly scanning at the same distant plantation. He turned and met Luce'a eyes. •That is Cottonwood?' aaid Luce.

Yes.'

And Luce said, Well •Areyou fttill of the same mind?' Morris asked sharply.

And Luce replied, 'Still the same.' Come on then,' he called, and atruck spurs to his horse, and dashed down the road to the north.

When Luce overtook him he was waiting for him, and walking his horse up the Cottonwood avenue. Miss Forest was walking before the house as they rode up, and met them with pleasure and astonishment, as may be imagined. She showed great concern for Morris' pallor and the scar of a sabercut on his face. She made thom come in, and tell all abont their strange meeting, and Morris's escape afterwards, and his wounding and capture. Very likely abe had long ago repented other impatience and baranness with the young fellow, and she seemed now to want to make amends by her kindness.

Morris forgot all doubts and rivalries In that happiness, and laughed and recounted the incidents to her, praised Luce, and was in high feather. When they came away, however, he grew quickly sober, aa Luce was before nim. His hot blood rose and surged at the obstacle in his path, that he could not see round or through. After his calmer habit, Luce too was excited by the preseuce of the girl and filled* with a mingled pain and delight. Each was occupied with his own thoughts, and they rode for an hour without speaking.

Tlien Morris turned abruptly and said: 'You remember tbat night when y«u had me ou your hands and didn't know what to do You put it to me. Now I put this to you: What are we going to do

And do you remember what you said Luce answered. 'I don't know. Don't leave it to me.' 'Oh! that's hard, Luce,' retorted Morris. "Don't you see how I'm tied and perplexed?'

Well, why not leave It to her Luoe said 'she can't care for more than one of us. I will leave your house and take mv chance.'

No, that won't do,' he answered 'I couldn't bear jt. I should go wild If I knew you were going there, and should want to kill you In a week. You don't know what It is to have this hot southern blood In you. I tell you frankly, I don't leve you now. I can't, leave It to her. You and I Ijavo got to arrange It between us.'

So they went in. Morris was absent and lay down after supper, saying he felt tired, but Luce heard him up In his room in the night. Luce sat up late himself, leaning out of the window, and thinking all sorts of things. Naturally his mind ran mostly on the young lady they had been to see, and he found himself going over her words, looks, tones, and actions, and found pleasure therein, but did not find himself moved to greater kindness for Morris. He owed him nothing, and did not see why he should not have his try at the mark. All he wanted was fair play, and if he missed, he hoped he'd take bis luck without whining.

Then he beard Morris moving in his room, and the sound in the loneliness of tbe night made him sorry, and struck blm with a pang of something very like remorse. He had been thinking of tbe bold rebel captain he bad taken on the road. Now it was the pale young convalescent with the cut on bis cheek, as he wistfully strained toward Cottonwood from the hill that afternoon. How frank and handsome he was! How the rich sunlight had flushed his thin face and gilded his straggling balrl And how madly fond ho was of Miss Forest, and with what reason Tbe thought of her made Luoe restless again, anahe walked about tbe room. He heard the click of a gate and looked out. There he was, walking about tbe garden, down the path to the stream and across by the rude bridge. Here he came again crossing the brook higher up on the stones, not minding a wet foot. Poor boy! how he was tormented. And what was it all about? Why was the brave young fellow turning out when bo ought to nave been asleep, aud walking uneasily across and around Who but he was the cause? Was ho not coming between him and his love, and taking advantage of bis extravagant notions of honor and obligation to plague him in his own house and drive him wild with doubts and impatience? How would he like to have had some one making uY to that Alice when he was her fool How had he liked Dudley Clark, in fact, when the little devil was playing them off against one another ana amusing herself with tbeir rage and hate?

He heard him oome in, and then the light streamed out of Morris' window and shone as long as Luce knew. He was of many minds and moods before he lay down, dud he did not sleep a great deal.

While he was dressing in tbe morning, Tony, a young imp of darkness who waited on him, brought him a letter. It was from Morris, and was in these words: 'I can only see one way out of this. I challenge yon to fight with such weapons ss you choose, sod according to the usages customary among gentlemen. If you" accept, tbe details can be easily arranged without the knowledge of my family. If you refuse, I

shall

consider that lam under

no further obligation to allow yon any privilege in this affair, snd shall expect you to keep out of my way. I shall still owe you for the risk yon took on a# «vwv«SM*y come as long as yon care to stay in my home. Let me nave your answer immediately.'

Luce bad already made np bis mind. At breakfast Morris was brighter and freer than he had been. Afterward he gave Luce a cigar, and they stepped ont at tbe window snd strolled down into tbe fields. They came smong a clump of trees snd stopped.

Did you get my note r' asked Morris. Yes,' answered Luce. WelL what is your anawer Do you accept?'

41

refuse,' said Luce, continuing to smoke. You do Morris echoed, throwing sway his cigar. Then I consider that

Svehave

forfeited any right you may had in this matter, and I warn you t$ keep out of my tray. Down ..5 jf 1

S

here we consider tbat men who refuse to fight are-1-" He saw Luce's face turn quite pale snd his hsnd go up and futnbio at his throat, and he did not finish.

Luce leaned back against a tree sad aaid: 'I wouldn't repeat that, if I were you. We consider your code of honor barbarous snd brutal. And a pretty settlement yon'd make of it! Yoo must have a high regard for the lady that you can't let her choose between us, but would have tbe bullet choose for ber and make the one left her murderer. I declare I don't believe you care for her half as much as for yourself. I think I care more for her than that. Bnt that's neither here nor there— I'm going to cut adrift from you and steer mv own boat, and you can do the same, lie turned and walked back to the house, went up and packed his luggage, came down and found Miss Morris and her father, and bade them good-bye, with thanks for their kindness and frank regret at going away.

Morria insisted upon carrying him to the town, but Luoe was impatient to be alone, and would only let him send his luggage.

So he went away and walked over toward the river and up It to the campground, where he had spent that memorable month. Then he took the wellremembered road he had ridden so often. He had not been over it since he had come galloping back to oamp with a lump in his throat and a bitter ache and blindness. And they came back to him now as he recalled them, trudging back on foot.

It was late afternoon when he came near Cottonwood, and sat down to look among some bushes a little way off. The negroes went about tbe place as of old he heard old Esop's croaking voioe berating some young hopeless, and the youngster's high chatter and yap-yap. There was General, the great St. Bernard, and thesmaller fry of dogs about tbe cabina. All was the same. He heard a horse, and Miss Ellen came oanteringup the avenue to the door. Esop came and took the black mare Luce knew her very well—Camilla was her name. The old negro seemed to be making some complaint to bis young mistress, and while he gibbered and gesticulated the lady stood, *7ith the sunset lighting up her face and figure, straight and fine, her arm straight down and holding tbe skirt of her habit, her other hand around the mare's white nose, and her face intent and displeased. She made an impatient motion and settled the matter with a few words, pointing with her whip. Then she went into the house.

When she was gone Luoe turned back among the bushes and lay down and cried.

He had made up his mind, it is true: but it was hard, harder than he had thought. He rebelled against tbe making of the world: that all the rest should be nothing and this one girl all, and that out of ail she was tbe one he must not come near! When he looked at it, it seemed incredible, and yet It was true.

What was the use of going away? There was nothing else to go for. Country and home lost their meaning to him. Honor and courage were words, and no more.

Oh! he could not go away without seeing her, hearing her speak. Why should he not? He would only be saying good-bye. And be would praise Morris to her, tell how brave be was, and how true and kind —that would be brave, would it not And then he knew that it was the lying devil of weakness and cowardice that put that false pretense In his heart.

Ana he rose up and ran. He did not stop till he came to the river. And ho kept on as fast as steam would carry him, and never stopped, night or day, till he reached home. He came across the fields from the station, the old familiar woods and fields. He noted the crops and the cattle In the twelve^ acre, the mowing machine ringing over the hill. There was corn in the barnlot, sickly and yellow-looking too it must havo been a cold, wet spring. He had not thought he would be so glad. And when he went In upon mother and sister Louiso, I need not tell of the laughter and happiness and the tears that were in more than two pairs of eyes. The dear hearts that had lain down so many nights with fears and anxious prayers for tho absent boy thanked Qea that night out of trembling lips.

Luce clung close to those two as if he were afraid of losing them or himself. He made himself the boy again. Ho went in and out, stopping with tbe other all day long over all the trials and pl life and his own—all but one. And

one evening as they sat together in tho dusk he told them his strange advenmlly the rebel oantalu. He did not tell them quite all, fcut his manner then and since his coming home, and their own hearts told them tbe rest, and they were very gentle with him while he stayed. Presently ho went back to bis command, and the great tragedy drifted on around blm and swept him along. It carried him across States, and, back and forth through all sorts of fighting and maneuvering—once into hospital with a ball in his thigh. Finally, it carried him wounded into the enemy's hands, and so into one of tho military prisons. What kind of place that was need not be told.

Luoe was sent there in May. In July he was transferred to another place and confined on an upper floor with some seventy more In one great room. About dusk of the 20th of October, as the guards were being relieved, a rather stout, bearded officer, In tho battered dress of Confederate colonel, came up and entered the plaoe. The relieving sentinel came up a moment after, ana the one who bad seen the colonel enter went down. The light was dim, and there was a good deal of noise and confusion. The colonel walked down the length of the starlng,den, scanning shsrply the faces that turned on him no loving looks. At the far end -he stopped before one of them, at a loss, ana asked:

Is not Captain Luce confined hero?' 'I am Captain Luce,' was tbe reply. •Who are you

The colonel looked closer. *t is, he said. 'My God! I wouldn't know

y°He

opened his coat. Under it was another, doubled down and buttoned round ils body. He ^Itoffand gave it to Luce. He took off bis bat it was two bats, one inside the other, and he pulled them apart.

Put them on, said tbe colonel. It was the uniform cost of a rebel captain.

,1* s-t",

one or

and talking

.easures of their

Now then,' said the colonel, 'come

Without a word or a hand-shake, without at all knowing what it meant, Luce passed out from among his miserable comrades, down the stairs, across the yard and to tbe out gate. The colonel said, 'Come slong, captaingave the word to the guard, ana they walked out side by side. The fresh, free air the stsrs shining overhead, the sight of women snd children, tbe odor of flow* ers from some garden, overcame him, [005CLCTDKD 0C» SKVBKTH FAQ*.]