"Love's Reward."

Timaru Herald, Volume XIIIC, Issue 13733, 24 October 1908, Page 3 (Supplement)

"Love's Reward."

'■-•- .Bv Marv -Bradford Whiting.). In the, open competition; reeemly held by the Church family Newspaper tf |« dramatic story »:,-: adjudged *r. be the best.sent in. and "<s author was * awarded the th>t prize of tifte-n ' guineas. The judges in ih* competition were- /the- editors ol tsie Strand and Grand Mifgsteinfd. anil ot the Church Family Xcwupaper. The noise of battle had rolled among the hiU* all through the long. f>™™*'i dav: but now that nigh: had fallen and the clear,- 'now-tipped peaks shone out m lb* moon, »iii-m"- by over the land—a s - tem-e- that by contrast might almost be fell. • - • • Th» wild Bonier tiihe-inen had been successfully driven back, but at fearful * cost. It "was- well that tbeshadowr, veiled'the horrors of that grim mountain pass wher*> the gate of Empire had been kept a» bravelv-as Horatius kept the bridge of old. A faint moan shuddered through the darkn*«s from time- to time: a wild dog barked in the distance; the cry of a vulture was heard as it -summoned >tt pate .from the barren heights: a ennnd far mere terrible than any of these was that of a footfall coming nearer and nearer over the rack.*. To the- fevered man who lay gasping on the ground, however, this sound conveyed no fear—it brought only the hope of possible relief. "Water, water! For Heaven's rake: The cry went up in the stillness, p.ercfiine, anguished, hardlv human. As it rent the air.(the dark figure came out from the «hadow of the rock and revealed itself clad in a un : form. etainM and torn, but unmistakably that of a British of . *Let me help, you," he, said as he knelt down, waterbbttle in hand, and slipped his arm under the head: but as he did-Vdhe uttered a sudden «ctainatton. How is tt that they left vbu" behind. „ , • -'TKre wax-ito answer, and Ouy Helston looked down at the grey lip*, freely «- S.g they would «ver_unclose again &£ wafer had a reviving power and after a moment, -t was evident- lift w for r Wiethe first words that reached his ear. "No w* g»>ng or Wp; I. anould «v deaiil before you Wback. They didn't see me. I -Up r ga behind this boulder when he let me fall:'' :■- r „ „ ' -Wholet you fall ~-.., .^ •The"question: apparently *****£, £ Biained unanswered. Helston saw the ~§§e fumbling at- the buttons of the

wanV that unfastened*" he ask

* 4 Th*" Colonel shook hi* head and letb» hand fall beside him. /•It it,vour note boot you van ? fWasked, as he .followed the gropwas a sound as of a«*ni : the stiff 4 : ps moved once more. ."He came back for me—right through .V.C._t*ll then at. homewas fall r The broken words d.ed awiy, and though'- Helston drained out drops of his watet-bott e. they could do «ofi.ib K to arrest the hovenng wings of death. The Colonels life was Ebbing away- As _night wotd sMrawt past it bore a way with it the last eigh of'-»,passing soul- . „ , ?And now what was to be done? He stonU-d his burden reverently down an< stobdSfor a minute or two considering. l< linear in/that, lonely spot was impweible Itwas at the rist of his life that he-hat „Mmed at. all.; He must go and g. quickly., if be were not 10 fall a vicuu to" some lurking foe. Bat the Colonel must not be 5 left h=re be- must -not even lie unguarded while hel] wasbong sought'; the vengeance of the in furiated-tribes was too well known, 'then was only one thing to be done. Liftinj .thi de*d Body in his arms, .Helsron se off down the road to camp with slow ant painful steps.

it-was .a good thing for Helslon that hj? was strong ami muscular, for, even with every physical advantage in bis fahe "found the journey almost more than be could accomplish. Th<- drops sprang out on hi* forehead, h* breath came, in painful gasps, his trembled aad_6hoot: still hfe held on his way. When at length the camp lights appeared in sight be nerved himseU for on* final effort.

"•* Who goes therer t Helston had no breath to answer; then, j as he stood in the glow of the. lantern, c the tiding* flew from lip to lip of the j burden be bore. 1 "Yon have 'done a fine thing to-night. t Helston!" said the Major, when he came , out.'to receive the mortal remains of his j late;chief with fitting honour. "It is. a i fine deed, and I thank yon in the name of the regiment." 1 It was not until Helston was alone , in his tent, wretched wearily npon his , narrow camp-bed. that the remembrance of Colonel B*aachamp's notebook came back to his mind. i •" I ought to have handed it over to the Major," he said to h'mself; "there , may be something in it that requires attention at once." He pulled h : mself up with some difhculty, fttr his limbs were stiff and tstrain«d. "and feeling in his tnnic. drew out the little hook with the tlull brown stain on its cover. "Watch western hills." were the hist wards'''he deciphered, scrawled in faint characters, across the page. That was important, certainly, for the danger had been beloved to he to the north; but' as he was wondering how he could! drag on hj« heavy boots again, the comforts r#me«nhiancv of on «rd.-r h* had heard from the Major came hack to h!j mind: -Set extra sentries on llie western snle of the camp." A hint of'possible danger m thai «U----recVioi had evidently already i-ached the Major's ears, and there, was no need, therefore for Helston «o make any communication' until tb* «xt day. When he sow th* only other note a sigh of rel-f escaped '•• Weston for V.C. Carried me till—" \ deep stain showed that the phrate was sealed with the writer's life blwl. Irvine th« book carefully on** his p.11.w. Helston stretched l.im*'H out immediately and fell asleep. Weary as he was. slumber was not refreshing It seemed to him he. wa* one* more toling over a rde-p, rugge.t road, tning to teach m.w fax distant goal that alfbi* eßort* . ould not. avail to gam. His feet slipped on the •tones, his limbs gave wav. yet still he struggled on. When at length h.- reached the light that had guided him through the darkiH-m. it »" not the glowing watch fir-* of the camp. but the b tar like vyes ..f the woman !io That moment w.c* bliss; H- held ..tit his arm* with au eager movement ; I'Ut •\lmas welcoming snide was succeeded by » troubled crv. and her voice ran;; through his dream: " 1 give my love i» th- brav ,et; it i> not fori.yon '* With that voU-v echoing iu h.s .irs he awoke. Tli.- cold Kiev of dawn w..:i struggling into hi* tent, and he pulled h •• tup more chicly over him ,i« if lo ..but out the chill" th.it v-med !•► ho unpp'uig his heart as m a vie. . lint tin* '""a- a chill that. n.. evt. trial warmth <o»ld .tire. It »-•* only Hire ttomihs sin." lh<.-'- identical «••:■'.• had really been «>«V at him -idy tine- , raofaths since he had goi*- ••'" "■•"» A! '"' Westbtook's pi.-'ii. e with hanging h- -a i and a heart that was dying uiihm hi" She wr* b..\uiifid. but lb", wa- no- miinlv tta-oti of the -wiy •!!■• 'xctviicl -•

widely; there was a charm about her that few could : i*s»t.- that none had ever-dreamt of denying : she was acknowledged a queen bv all" the mwi who-.cam- to Sir dames Wesi brook's house: tliere was i.ut a young* iifticcr in Colonel Beauchamp"., ' regiment who : wonld not have drawn lib sword in her defem e. .tiny Helston had been wellw'ghr mad with low and j%alou>y before tl£ legiiiieiu was ordered ;<• lis- fioiuier. ami there was mole than one ltiaii among his coioiades :iga"n.-.i whom he had-har-boured a»secret fury. But in the stoim and stress of active service the meaner have a way of'dying out and disappearing, and Helston had done his duty with the ifet. thinking of nothing but the task ,before, him. -

Now in the grey dawn., with his whole nature unstrung by the hVrte fatigue of the pivced r iig day. "thr anguish of the past iu*ht-d in again'ol-er his uoul in one great blinding, bitter- wave. Kvriy detail of that.miserable evi-niug was as vividly'present so him a.> if'it had only just ended: he heard him-elf once rnoi>- pouring out wild words of ple:id ; ng. saw the cold light in the beautiful errs that ohowed no .sign of relenting. He recalled how 1 - he hud sought refuge in the verandah, where the darkness opened a kind embrace to him. and the night breeze touched'h:o forehead with its consoling breath. Behind him were lightslight?, muse, and the chatter gay voices. Here he war. alone —free. - He had only stood there for a few moments when hope once more crept ■ back- into his heart. Fate would not always ie so unkind to him: he would ask "again, and yet again, until, one day. she would turn "to him with a trembling smile and [own that hhe was. indeed, master of her | lifp. Then the sound of a voice near the open window made him c-tart. Olanc•ng round, he saw her leaning on''Captain Weston's ann, a look of eager interest glowing in her fact- :ii; she listened to the words from hisvlips. The remembrance of that moment sent a utab to Helston's heart whenever .1 came to him. bin as the familiar pang seized him now he was conscious- that a new and strange feeling was mingled with it. The reg : ment had been called away before there had any further development, but- the recollection of .•. remark made by one of the subalterns flashed now across his mind: " She will marry the firs: Y.C. she can get: she is perfectly 'cracked on courage." The firet V.C:—and Weston had been recommended for the cro;o by Colonel Beauchamp! Helston ground his teeth, and his hand sought the little book beneath his pillow: yes. there it ms, in the feeble hand-writing—" Weston for V.C.:

carried me till-—^—" ■ till he dropped exhausted was tbe probable end : ng to »oe sentence. Weston was riot a powerful man, though his reputation for courage was high. No doubt he had found hie Gelf-irr.posed task to be impossible; by this time he was very likely back in camp, and, as soon as he reported himeelf .to the Major, -would hear the news of the honour in store for him. It was a maddening idea, and Helston flung himself, over .on. his bed w'lh a groan. "Did von call, xirl" said a voice at the tent door. It was a sentry pa-rising. Thankful for the interruption. Helston asked whether anvthing was going on. .There was not much news: the night had'been qui?t. no attack had been made, wounded were all doing well. Helston listened without comment. Then the soldier, just as he turned to go, added: .

" Captain Weston, sir—he's been found dead;"

'• Dead !" ot >d Helston, leaping up., " It can't be ! Impossible '."

The man stared at hi* superior, surprised at- his strange tone. '• It's true enough, sir," he said. " A lelief party -went out as soon as it was light, and they found him half blown to bits; they had to bury him there, but they brought his sword into camp. If you'll excuse me saying so, sir, everybody\» talking about you this morning-: they say that you ought'to have trie V.C., sir." " The man waited as if expecting some comment from Helston, but. seeing rhat none came, he saluted and took his departure. So Weston was dead! Th;- note book was clutched tightly now. Weston dead —would never know of the ieward designed for him, he to whom it . would mean everything would very probably be left unnoticed. It' was all very well for his action to be admired by th? men. but there was not one of them, who would have done as much. It was no! likely that among the many brave- deeds that had been don<- during the campaign his own-would be singled out for reward. Xo, he must put all idea of such good fortune out of his head: it was the way of this sorry scheme of things—the man who might have won Alma's love was cut off in his prime, the man who wa* left alive lacked the needful qualification. Unless—unless —Helston sprang up in bed as the thought flashed through his mind, his ctraining eyes fixed on the far corner of the lent n» "though some terrible vet fascinating vision loomed In-fore him. Viile*:—what T He dared not put the thought into words ; it was a thought that would not Ivear the light. Yet it was ?» flight—merely the changing of a few faint pencil-strokes". Xo, no! Such a thing was incredible, unthinkable; Kton and Sandhurst did not fi.nd men out into '.lie world for this. There was a clorioir, tradition l>ehind him; he nw*( do nothing unworthy of thov who had trodden the path of hononr before him. He sprang up quickly as if to cast out the evil thought, but all the while ho was dressing he wa« conscious of another voiiv* within him, a voice that whispered lint after all cuch an action would b* perfectly justifiable. Had h- not done exactly what Wetuon had done? Could there Ik- any doubt that if the Colonel had lived he would have seen thar the rward ilia; was «iven to onr- man must he givci to the other?

Helston caught Up his cap and sword .if. the bugle rang out for the toll call. For a moment his hand linger.d over the little book that by upon his pillow. Should he hand it to the Major at once, or should he wait awhile? Ther- was no time ..> consider, and even as he a.-k-d iiimA-lf 'the question he threw the book into his despatch-box, and locked it with the key hanging on his chain. "1 want n> sp-ak to yu, Helston." paid the Major, when th- 101 l had b .-n called and the men had fallen out. "1 am writing my report, and 1 uu*st know a, link- more ot" what happened last night." " I have told yon all that happened, .sir." taid Helston. ai. he followed the Major into his ti-nt. '•There is ono <pie-li"ti thai I am anxious to at.k you: I have .injiiiie.l for the Colonel's note-Iwok. but it i-auiioi. I* found; liav- yuli seen anything of it v ' •Yes." iiaid HeL.ton. without h-sita-tion: "the Colon-! gave th- book t., tlie lwf••!•-. h- died.'" " H- w.it. coii-cioii . tlenV -l)h! \>k. ijtiiti- cm-, iou-. Would you like nie to bring th- book'" •'Yes; the funeral ;-.; lix-sl for t-n o'clock. I should like lo look it through beforehand, in .as.- the:- are any last directions." Htlstoii w.f out . ileiitb. ir...,:-d the • nclosute t<. hl<. own :.nt. H- l.new now what h- in. an: t.. d... I"nh.eking the .i.spat.h hot. he iltt-d th- |..p- Ithat ...Viud lie- 11"!. book. li.<-i --I ...tig lo.k rmhieiilv W'tli ■■ • '•• Whv wa» 'i: !h. 1- ' Wl. .t h.il! 1. lid h.T.t pu: it Met- He m..-.!•! 1... k athough a -l.al.- 1.-i 1.-ien him, and /a/-.I ■ .' .-ai; int.. il. «--. - tint .-..ufroiii..! h-i. ! v.-.h a .!.-a:ii «!,.';• 1...-I. "II hi. .il.r.WI '■ i .. It v.... Mini We. -!.:..• t.':. ph.-i.. i '.. ..., \» :,- 1....1. ;.•-.■!. • • I" i " '| ,„>: 1...v. i.-r! 1 • .ui-: live ».'!»■

He replaced the photograph in rhe box, took up the.note-book in fingers that did not tremble, and wish a pencil deliberately altered the- name on the page, until from, Weston it turned inio an unmistakable Helston. He had expected to feel confused, guilty, wretched : on the contrary, hr-ivs.- quite calm as h* eiit-aed Ihe MajorV. iem and laid llie book on (lie table. 7lie Major took it, up without a word, luriiiiig the pages slowly, an unaccustomed moisture dimming virion. A us: ere man as lie was. he had loved hit; gallant senior at one'braw m:-.n does another. "You know what." is wrirfen her.;'" he aeked .it la.-t with an effort.

*" 1 d„." «aid Helston, in a tone that, though I'iw. iv:i- perfectly firm. "U'ell," sai.l the Major slowly, 'you deserve it. I do i«i.t envy you the Crews, bus I do envy _\ <>ti t inise f«-w words which show linw In- appiv-ciafed your ..ouiage."

: HeL;ton would have given all ilia; he possfcwsd at that moment could he have had the la;st hall-hour over again: huv rlw most- sorrowful truth about all sorrowful thingii is that their impression endures (or r-o short a time. When the messages nas-iK-d along win is. of tb.- tield telegraph that evening, life only though was that- they, would catry the news of his deed to the whom, he lovt-ri best upon earth! i Two months and more. Jiowev-=r. elapl sed before Helfiton could go to claim his reward. During those Moulded weeks of Border wavlar-.- his s--oul was shaken by a dit-ad )u- could not control. What though the Colonel's recommendation had been confirmed—what though the coveted Cross \rai> his to lay at her feet-, would nor. Heaven punish him by a refusal from Alma's lifts!' '•: But justice is no: always administered exactly _ how and . \yh~n w>- exjiec-t. The disturbance on the frontier w.it; quelled at tafct. the troops lvMirned to their former btation, and Cajitiiin Helston found himself, Matt, ted and Wed by all. Alma Westbrook was quite ready to do her share of the feting: i,he had always had a liking for him, and' she felt now that he was ;i. man whom it would be an honour to love. The days that followed the announcement of their engagement were- filled with broken joy. Alma was not a girl to lie easily won. bnti when once she had been won, she gave her love wholly and without reserve. She could not. understand now how it) was that she had ever doubted that Ouy was head and shoulders above every man of her acquaintance.,

It was scarcely to be wondered at that all remembrance of that one dark transaction ehould fade -from Helston'-s mind ao he sunned himself-'in .the glory of hi& iifF happiness—tsueh a little thing and already so long ago. Why should he let the rankling thought disturb the sense of well-being that filled his son), that eense of w<dl-b~mg that comes tvo seldom in a man's life—nothing left to wish for, and little, go v«ry little, to regret i Th>- whole station was looking forward to the wedding: it was to be the lr-st brilliant event of u brilliant, season. Sir James Wt'Gtbrook felt that, the marriage was a thoroughly satisfactory one.. '" Helston is a right down good fellow." he said to hiri friends.

He said the same thing to Helston himself on«- evening, and the generous words roused the rankling -thought- once more in tho younger man's heart. If he knew—if he even faintly guessed—what would not his feelings be, what loathing •would not this straightforward, honourable gentleman experience at the mere idea of giving his daughter into the keeping of a forger and a liar! He made his. escape from the house as quickly as he could, for until that thought- Was* crushed down., once more he did not fesl he could meet Alma's truetful eve*. . . .

Ag he opened the door of his room he saw a figure before him at sight of which he started back with .a- terrified cry, every scrap of colour , fading from his cheek. '" For God's who and what are vou?" he fitammored.

'• I'm no ghcfit, if that's what you mean!'" sad Captain Weston coolly. " But you are dead V 6ad Helston, h.'tf trembling lips hardly able to form the wordu.

,; On tin? contrary. J am very much alive! J have hoard all tin* stun - , .and 1 know how the mistake arose. I was badly wound* d. and I crawled away on my hands and knees with the idea of getting h?lp." "lint thev buried your liodv on the field !"

"A'ot mv body!" .said Captain Wftston dryly. '' 1 was carried off by a hand who" saw thai I was an officer, and hoped for a ransom. My sword was lying near another poor fellow who had been blown almost to bits by a bursting shell, and they jumped to the conclusion hii> bodywas mhie. I've had no end of adventures: T'll tell you abont that another time." '"Whar is it that you have come to tell me now?" '• Something you have told yomv.elf a thousand tinns—that you are. not. lit to associate with honest men." There was a pause, the two men standing and looking into each other's eyes. Then, suddenly. Helston'.* gaze, faltered. Dropping into a chair he hid his face in his handr.. Captain Weston broke the idle nee. "The f'olon-l wrote tho.;c wordu in his notebook when 1 was first hit," he said. "1 saw him write them. and. though 1 brgged him not to twv.il e his strength, lie would not L.dwi to ine. 1 heard all about you as- coon as I got her.- to-night-, for L turned in at tin- club. Kverv tongue there w;t; busy with your wedding, and all your many eloiia.. 1 have no wc h to interfere with you. 1 -have, been engaged lor a. long time to a girl in England.- and I only hope thao vou m.iv be as happy as 1 know 1 shall I be." lick ;ou Talced his f.ic- and looked at-tin-1 six-aked with haggard ey.r.. "That is n,.t all that you have to say —-it- cannot be." he uiid. •Ye... it •;, all. 1 should htive liked th.- V.C as well as anoth. r. but I can live without it. 1 have my 'km- on -.-icr.c.-. which i- nn.te tlniii any d-eoi.i tion to m ■. 1 am -.ijieakin;-; tli- hoii...i tiuth when I say that. I pity v.ill from the vciv hoitoni of my heait. You leed in.: Ii- ati.'iid to invite me to your wedding. I shall not try l" add ai.v punishment '■•> 'hat which you :.t r. "idv b.-ar. and i'lom which vou .an m-ver he ielMsed." Withota another word h- iurtied and wen). lle!.-toii wai. alone. The honor of th- night that Followed was iiev.-r eifac. d ( his m.-moiy as h.lig as h- liv.-d. If W-stoti had in lendei to he m. 1.-ifill. Ii- had r : uc<.-eded iu inllictiiiir the M-vei.:.t t.irluivs! t "..n f..-i'oii would in. an the chattel inj; ..I all hi.i hopts; !.u; t.. live with this hurdeii Oil I,L-. .olls.iell.e was itupossib!.'. Ai-. soon ;». morning i am- b- bent hi° 'Sep.* to th" \lajol'-. holie. . •• My d.ar i-11..u. what i- ! he m.vt r with 'v..!!':" .\cl.-itued the M-'.j»r ■- b« . aught' l-a-'ht of hi- vi-itol'.s face. - Nolll i„ K wi..iig wish Mi-» W.--.h...01:. I h 0,.-''" ■■ Woi-: than thai '' w.i- :h- un-x i,.,-.d ai.u.r. -Wo,-! :h„, th...' What a ~.-.!, [,,:■ .i lovel i.. uial.. : you i.u-t.t :■• I'' ,e. haim'i '■• \ "Hi "it '" )..., rt i...., •! . .a.,rv w.-i t'.-l th- Maj-r ~ ~;.".„u ".-.-\ .- •-'«.«•' |,; ->'"- r j e..,. . :h..i. :..l.n. - . «"i'- :!'•=" •!-'-'■ ' , , • e .•■! ill Ii" .11 i ' -'ll I'-liloV. : w'i'.'.". 1 T";''!;"-,, ..1 ■... •'- ■■• b- . ' > .| „;,.-., I!- •-:..!■ iiol lil.:-!o-.i. I ■,,,.■ • ...- -aiH. hi- :-■ .1.,,-.. r ».!...,,- j...: h.v .1.- no'.- ...... , ...t ;,. N ., :i; , -..: i: v-e h-at !■ ■'• ;

verv readv with .his tongue Ji» f-lt absolutely dtimbounded: by this enraordinary storv. The silence struck like ice to Helston's heart. Captain Weston had treated him as a man too foul to be touched, even in the way of punishment; now it seemed that the same treatment was to be meted our to him again. He found himself actually hoping that Sir James would receive lib statement with a burst of fury, and it wau with a .;h-mge sinking of the heart, that he--watched life impassive face as he ben! over (lie notebook.

•"You thought, of course, that Captain Weston would corn? to me wi.h this story?" he said at last.

A" painful Hush dyed . Helston b cheek. •• No. he assured me he. would not. do so. I know it must appear as if his retnm had forced .me'to confess, bur he is a man of hie word, and I had no fear he would ever betray live. I came to yon because I felt thai I should never have a'happy moment again if 1 went on in thfe deception."

Sir Jame.s handed the note-book back fo the Major, and ro?e'deliberately from his seat. "That is all that then- is ro be said, then." he remarked. ••'I understand that you have made this conlesKion voluntarily, and T am gi.td yon have done so, but, of course, you will see your action lias placed you on the other side of the pale." It. was the same judgment, delivered in even stronger terms'

Helmmi clasped his hands in agony,

''Punish me as you will," he said, " but do not east, me off'."

'" It is hot. in my power to punish you," said Sir James, "and as for casting you off. you must see that it is you who haw cast, yourself off bv vonr own act."

Helsron was past speech now, but taking from his pocket the case that contained the Cross.-Tie' laid it' before Sir James. "You want it: seni back?" c-aid Sir James. "I do not know if that it pr«sible; I am not. a military man." "In any case- if would hardly make any difference," said the. Major. "Helston was recommended for the Cioss, apart from this affair, for his bravery in going out alone to fetch in the Colonel's dead bodv."

The futility of if all—the maddening futility! To gain the whole world by losing one's soul is bad enough, but to lose one's soul and gain nothing in return is a torment that cannot be borne. "I will send in my paperrs at once," said Helston hoarsely, as he put the case back into his pocket; then, turning towards Sir James, he tried to tried and failed.

"You wish, perhaps, to '-send a message to my daughter?" said Sir James in his chilling tones. Again Helston tried to speak, again he failed: his eyes-were like the eyes of a death-stricken animal: and as an animal seeks its lair when about-.'to die, so he left the room and mad? his way to his own house.

Ir war. still early morning when he went out from the presence of his.judges. When he roused himself at last from the stupor that hung over him the- fii;st shadows of ■evening veiled the aim I He mtist. go—that was the one thoughr that emerged from the whirling confusion o his brain. ' Stumbling, .to ■ his feet, he looked about him. uncertain where to begin his preparations. "Guy! Are you there?" The "voice was low and timid, but it mode him start- as though ir had been a thunder-clap. "Who is it?" he said, but he had no need to afik—he would have-known thai voice even if he had been in the throes of death.

There was no answer, but- the door was pushed back and Alma entered the room !

In her whit© dress, with her fair hair and pure, innocent face, she looked to him like an angel; but with the angels., he had now no part nor lot, and he stretched one his hand to fence her on\ "You must",-.nofc cor-V-'here,", he said, " We have no more to -\o with each-other now." i . .

She took no notice of hits words, but, coming clcse tto him, laid her hand on his arm.

*'l pledged myself to you," she said; " nothing can alter that." "But it is altered !" said He!i>ton. His tone was rough, savage < j ven : but. she was not repulsed—she know what, love and what- anguish racked his breast. ■ "You must not send me away without hearing, what I have come id till you," eho said. If you had not sjwken all would indoed have been altered : but you did speak, you made a voluntary confession, even though you had be--n rssnred that you wotild not he betrayed, and I know" that that confession needed far mora courage than any deed that could bo done on a bartlefiol'd. If 1 were to desert you I should be condemning a soul that lias repented. How could I dosert you? Am 1 not part of your life? Are vou not the heart of my heaii?"

The tears were- running down his face, and hf- threw out his arms her with the wild movement of a drawninp man. Then suddenly ho drew them back. '" Your father!" lie exclaimed.

"My father brought mo here. He knows what 1 have come to -.ay to you."

"Hut I have ptomised to .. nd in my papers !" '•.I know, and it will have to be done. My/ father and the- Major are agreed upon tliat. though they haw decided that nothing is to Ik- made public. You must begin your life again, but you have a houe.e and estate in England, and you will find plenty of duties.'" " Hut what a life for you !" he i;aid with a groan. "It w tint as if 1 were a w.-ikhY man. My means will be limned : wv eliall have' to put up with all kinds of .li„-agrce.ib!cs. Yon !«-,- this life- hne, and 1 was. in a fair way to make a name ihat you need not have 1...ii ashamed to bear." N'ow everything is wiecked. ruined, by my own wicked madmivs !"

He tried t" um-husp his ham!-, from heis. bur i.be would not let fhein go. •I do it. b-..ause I love toil." she said; "ill- whole :;eor.--t It.-.-, in that little word !" With that on.- word she eoni|Uer. o--

with th- power of that tvi.rd she boaloin saf.lv through th- ordeal of the .lav.i th-.t"fo!loU.-d. through the humi!ration of knowing that he v-a. r-.-c. -ived by his hiid-V: lam'ily in i-pit- -f. ••">■■' »" 1 b-cau-e of. his p.is-i. record; ihrough t h-' w.-ll meant <-ongrattilation.s that stung him like the e-trok-s of a la«h. through the laments over hi-s leaving th- . .-rvi.- and th- tinal farewell to til- land tliat was to h.lVe Ik-II the SC-Ilv of hi- slicetssfttl cat.' r. • I d,d i: l.ccause 1 lov-.l you." was |„ ,- ai.-w-r to all was an ai.-ner thai n.-v.-r fa; ! ad to cl'..'aIh.- .lotids from his 1,t..w. and :-eid lmn ,„;i will, flesh courage to iac,- th- wotld again. '■ It N vou who ought to have ,;. no: j I.- he i.od on- day. :■-. he unlocked a .!■ s). that he had n-vcr open, il wi h-r ~r.s. n.-. and <lr. w out th- <>"■ liv t !.-•-. hidden fioui -very .-ye. No .ould p..-sil.iy b- gr.-.t-r tli->n :!,.. vdollf that vou 5|,......i -aheii you ,■,,,,,. ;., me and "told m- that y ■" '■ , ''- not aliaid i» l-.d. your lit- •<i'b '"■"'' ]'.u; -h- t-.k-d up a. hin «itn a '"■' i 11.,. W-, no va!-,,r 1..--!--! tl.:v." , h . ,;od. "I 1..V.-I y.,,. and «!,e "•..- ~,::!,! I .!.. 1.-..t . ..tn< >-• >•■«' l " ; •'"'