CHAPTER XXII.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XI, Issue 12, 13 July 1883, Page 7

CHAPTER XXII.

{; I went with the wife of Colonel Fitzgeorge to see her wounded husband, and on t'ae way to the sick ward, Harold recognised me. We had a long talk over Craighome and you. But I have a friend to introduce, Maurice." "lam inclined to dispute that favour with you, Miss O'Donnell," 6aid Frank, advancing into the room with a young lady on his arm. " This is my sister, Colonel Maurice O'Donnell. Lady Alice Buchanan." Maurice, as he turned round to see his friend on hearing his voice, stood petrified with astonishment. Anything equal to the loveliness of the young girl who stood before him he had never seen. The rounded contour of her face, the lustre of her dark eyes, the look of indescribable fascinatingness that reigned over all, struck him at once in a manner and with a new sensation he had never felt before. In a few minutes, however, they were in the midst of a pleasant and agreeable conversation. There was so much that was singular and strange in this happy and delightful meeting— so far away from English soil— that theie was no stop or stay in their talk. Everything was fo new, so strange sd remarkable, and so unexpected in the meeting, that the time flew by rapidly. But long before the dinner hour arrived Maurice found himself full of admiration of the beautiful girl beside him. And when the pleasant evening had passed away, and it WnS time for him and Frank to retire to their quarters, there was written on his heart for the first time in his wandering and careless life the word " Love." Vague dreams of a beautiful face— ecstatic in its loveliness— came in visions before his dreaming brain. When be woke he could scarcely realise that the whole proceedings of the evening had not been a dream. He could not distinguish between the actual reality and the fiction of his dreaming hours. It was only when he roused himself, and with a strong effort of his will realised the surprises he had met with, that he satisfied himself they had actually occurred. As soon as Maurice had reviewed his regiment he paid his visit to the ladies. Bright with exercise, and with his eye kindling with health and with pleasure, Maurice, as be rode down to the house, was the beau ideal of a chi valrous soldier, second only to Nolan in his skill as a horseman. With his lithe muscular figure sitting erect in his seat, his sword-arm hanging in ready ease by his side, Maurice, ashe rode down from the head of his regiment, presented an appearance which could scarcely fail to commeTid itself to the heart of any young lady. So at any rate thought one, as Grace and her companion watched him from the drawing room windows as he advanced. It was easy to call up pictures of his ride on the Russian guns and to see with the eye of the mind the youthful colonel leaping on the bayonets of the gunners or facing the intercepting foeman on his retreat. The heart should have been cold that would not have linked his soldierly form with the glowing deeds of romance. As he leaped from his horse, the ladies descended to meet him. The greetings were warm and tender. If Alice looked to his eyes beautiful the evening before, wearied and fatigued after her journey, this morning, after her rest, she seemed to him a very angel of light. He had never looked before on face so fair ; and the grace and culture of her manners gave an additional zest to her every motion and word. The bright visions that had floated before bis dreaming brain faded into nought before the exquisite face that met his waking gaze. " We have not much in the way of amusement to offer you here, ladies. Our only opera here is the boom of the guns, and our garden walks the trenches," said Maurice, as he speculated on how they should employ themselves for the day. " Suppose we ride down to Balaclava, and see how Colonel Fitzgeorge and Captain Mordaunt are ? " said Grace. The suggestion was once accepted, and as Frank had sent word that he was engaged on duty and could not come, the three were soon in the saddle and cautering fairly along. They did not want food for conversation on their way. Everything was new and strange to the girls and excited in succession their interest and surprise. The long lines of provision waggons, four deep and miles in length, bearing provisions from the seaport to the front ; the debris of broken arms, portions of uniforms, utensils of every kind that strewed the way ; the numberless skeletons of horses, whose bones, picked bare by the wild dogs of the Chersonese, lay in thousands ; and the endless train of soldiers moving backwards and forwards — all made the scene very picturesque. They found Harold much improved, but still not able to sit up. As he looked pale and wan, and with the traces of pain, and suffering on his face, Alice could .not help thinking that if he were the rival her brother Frank had — if good looks and pleasant face and manly figure held sway with her heart — he had not much to fear in Grace's affections. Having spent an hour or two there, during which Grace ministered to the wounded officer with attentive kindness, they paid a further visit to Mrs. Fitzgeorge. The found the poor lady in great affliction. Her husband has passed a bad night ; bleeding from the wounds had set in, and even to her inexperienced eyea, the shadow of death was hovering around him. It was a sad sight to have come so far to see. It was sad, instead of the manly form she had hoped to find, welcoming her full of life and animation and hearty joyousness, to see this wasted and worn form, around whose heart already the cold coming of death announced itself. Oh 1 war, war 1 There was a feeling of depression and sadness over the hearts of the three as they left the abode of suffering ; and once more resuming the saddle, they took their way frontwards, skirting the sea.

A rapid canter over the undulating hills soon dispelled these sad thoughts. It was impossible that sorrow could long linger where such youth and beauty were. Pointing out as newent the scenes where the battles of the Alma and Inkerman I'ad been fought, and entertaining them them with such incidents of the conflicts as he knew, the time passed very pleasantly, and their hearts very light. Grace was thank* f ul and quietly happy, that amidst all the suffering around, Maurice was so well and in such bounding health, and that he had been spared the cruel wounds and tortures of war. His colonel's uniform looked so well on his active and youthful bnt muscular figure, that Grace thought she bad never seen him look so well before. As for Alice, he looked to her the very picture of romance. Such an one as he might be those gallant chiefs who in crusading days turned back with their swords the lances of Saladin's army and on Syrian plain thundered against the Saracens. So pleased with one another, and with the blood bounding through their veins owing to the quick canter, they came within hearing of the camp. The boom of the heavy seige guns thundering against the forts, and the steady reply of the Malakoff and the Redan as they assailed the newly-erected batteries, or raked the trenches with shotand shell, came on their ears. " I wish this war were over," said Alice. " And I, too," said Grace. IS It is sorrowful to see the ruin and grief it leaves behind it." " It is selfish to say so ; but I hope we may be spared poor Mrs. Fitzgeorge's sufferings." Grace turned pale at the idea. She could not even bear to think of danger or injury to Maurice. That evening a grand ball was given by the General's lady in honour of the two visitors. All the superior officers of the army were present, and as. many ©f their lady relatives as were then on a visit with them It was a magnificent affair; and its interest was not a little heightened by the magnificent uniforms of these officers, and the consciousness that before long the wearers' hearts might be stilled in death and hidden away in the graveyard on the hill. Still the dance went merrily on. Maurice and Alice danced together ; and as the trembling floor beat time to their feet it would be difficult to imagine a fairer couple. So Grace thought, as, leaning on Frank arm, she watched them in the danee — watched them, too, a 9 having ceased they strayed to thebay window and looked out on the innumerable lights that twinkled through the camp ; watched them, too, when, after an hour's quiet and earnest conversation, they once more joined in the dance, a tear of gladness and love in the young girl's eye and a smile of happiness wreathing itself around her pallid face. " Thank God for it ! " thought Grace to herself, with pleased heart," I knew she would love Maurice — the dear girl." So the time passed. Day after day, when not on duty Maurice and Frank escorted the ladies either down to the hospital at Balaclava or they rode in the direction of the wild country inland, or again along the coast, wherein the bay outside the fleets of England and France rode at anchor. Amidst the misery, and pain, and discomfort of the. camp the time passed joyously and happy. And though Grace contrived, as far as possible, to keep away from any further declarations of love on the part of Prank, still they were thrown so almost constantly together that it seemed to add a fresh interest to the time. They had planned an expedition inwards one day, about the time the two ladies had made up their minds to return for some time to Constantinople. They were not tired of the camp, nor of their friends, but etiquette forbade them remaining any longer. Accordingly, a splendid picnic was arranged for their amusement before they left; " You -will call me, Briney," said Maurice. " early," as he retired to bed the night previously. " Frank will be retnrning at dawn from the trenches. Waken me when he comes — if not before it." So laying himself down to rest, he was soon fast asleep, to dream of Alice's handsome face and bright eyes, and to hear in the hoarse diapason of the cannon the silver tones of her musical voice. All the bright dreams of love and glory passed in ceaseless succession through his brain. All at once, however, it seemed to him as if the picture darkened and the radiant vision of Alice disappeared from his dreamy gaze. Lost in wonder at this, and with an uneasy feeling over him, he heard & voice in distress call to him, he knew not whence. But the tones were those of one in great agony, calling aloud — " Maurice I Maurice ! " "Yes, Alice. Where?" he cried aloud in his sleep. The cry wakened him, or Briney's touch on his shoulder awakened him, for when he looked up his companion was standing over his bed. " Was it you called, Briney ? " " It was." " I thought, in my dream, it was another voice I heard." "No ;it was I called. Get up, Maurice get up ! For the love of God, get up 1 " "Is there," said Maurice, as he looked up in the alarmed face of the other, " Is there anything wrong ? " " There is. Harry, Maurice, hurry. Get up ! " " There is ? " said Maurice, jumping up and hastily dressing himself. "What? Did — " aßked he again, as a sudden thought struck him and sent the blood rushing back in terror on his heart. " Did Frank call on his way back from the trenches? " " No," said Briney, in a low voice. " An' he'll never call agen this side of the judgment day." Maurice turned round upon him in mute query. Hia face was white as that of a corpse. (To be continued.)