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About The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917 | View Entire Issue (Dec. 22, 1899)
HIS WORD OF HONOR, A Tale of the Blue and the Gray. BYE. WEPNEP. Copyright, by Robert Ccnuer’* Sons. CHAPTER 11. Tho young officer seemed to have expected this refusal. He advanced a step nearer Hnd dropped the strictly formal tone used heretofore. "Colonel, tho Interview I seek at Springfield is of infinite importance to me. I will he perfectly frank with you. I suppose you know the relation In which I stand to Mr. Harrison’s family." “The wealthy owner of the neighbor ing plantation, our most bitter enemy. Yes, I have lipard of It. It was said that you were engaged to his daugh ter, and at the outbreak of the war made r sacrifice for your convictions." ”1 did not make it; It was forced upon me. Mr. Harrison broke my en gagement to his daughter, without per mitting me even an explanation. The outbreak of hostilities prevented my hastening to my fiancee, I was forced to Join my regiment. The letters I sent remained unanswered. I do not even know whether they reached her hands. For months I suffered the tor tures of uncertainty. This morning an accident revealed that Miss Harrison, who, I supposed, had long since fled to some place of safety, was still in Springfield. It is tho last, the only pos sibility of obtaining any certainty. I beseech you to grant it.” The colonel’s eyes rested wdth evi dent sympathy on the young man, who waa indeed Ills favorite, and whose Ill-repressed emotion showed how keenly he suffered from this state of uncertainty; but he shook his head. “Even should I grant you the leave of absence, and you reach the planta tion unharmed, w'lio will guarantee that Harrison, after what has occurred, will not see In you merely an officer in the enemy's service and deliver you up?” “Deliver me up?" cried William, hotly. “Tho man who was betrothed ■9 -9-9-9^-9 ^ V | by eight o'clock this evening, I shall | believe that he Is either dead or dis ! honored." William's eyes Hashed, but they met i his commanding officer's gaze, stead ■ fastly. "Believe the former! If I am alive at that hour, I will be here." "Then go—on your word of honor." "On my word of honor." William saluted and left the room The colonel gazed after him a few seconds, then said In low tone: "Poor boy! 1 would ten times rather have sent him to meet the enemy than into this temptation." CHAPTER III. An Unexpected Visitor. It was the afternoon of the same day. The sun was lower in the west but the heat had not yet lessened, and all the blinds in the spacious mansion of Springfield were closed. The ex tensive estate had, as yet, been spared the devastation of war. It was In the immediate vicinity of one of the prin cipal recruiting-stations In the South and owed it to this circumstance alone that, for the present at least, It could afford Its inmates absolute safety. A pleasant dusk pervaded the sit ting-room, W’hose doors opened upon the wide terrace. The glaring sunlight in the garden outside could not find its way Into the apartment, whose doorways were protected by blinds and curtains; and a little fountain, whose Jet rose amid a circle of tropical plants, diffused Its cool, glittering drops through the sultry atmosphere. A young girl of perhaps eighteen was half reclining in a rocking-chair. Her little head with its wealth of dark hair was flung wearily back, her eyes were closed, and the long black lashes formed a sharp contrast to the pretty but somewhat pallid face. Her thin white dress, which, though intended “THEN QO—ON YOUR WORD OF HONOR.” to hta (laughter - the man whom he onced called son?" "Everything Is possible In these times. Surely you must know his char acter.” “I expect nny act of hostility toward in his house. He is a southern gen tleman, and a man of honor. I am safe with him." "We will hope so; hut another and gruvor peril threatens you there: If you are silll regarded as the son of the house, every effort will be made to win you over to their cause. Sup pose that- you should not return?" William started as if an insult had been hurled in his fuce. "Colonel, 1 am an honorable man." "I know II; tmt you are human You are young and passionately In love Even the strongest natures succumb lo such a conflict. At that time, you had no choice, you say. Probably It wilt lie so now. And when the prize Is before you. when your affianced wife weeps and pleads, and the whole hap piness of your life depends on a single word avoid the temptation. I.leutrnaut Poland, I advise you as a friend." The young officer had turned pale but bis voice sounded firm and rc i lilts as he replied "I beg you to grant me the leave if absent • on my word of honor.” Burn*y paced up and down tin room several times in silence, at last he paused. "At the utmost I could grant you only the afternoon You must let urn at sunset and It Is s tons distance You will have barely three hours at dprtngfletd * "A single one would suffice for the <>a vernal ion on whi«h my whole fu lure depends -I repeal my re«|uest the be It thaw With caution It may pschaps ha puaaible to avoid the peril which threatens you on the •«« | ituU rely upon your peudeu— ' impend upon it, colonel Burney approached I ha you as man iud pulling his hand oa hta should-, wild with dasp surnentnena '*7111 sunset than' l< b *»w haw If lieutenant Hois ad has Ml ret omen only for house-wear, was trimmed with rich lace, harmonized with the costly furniture of the room. In the dreamy twilght. the dainty white-robed figure was as charming as one of the fragrant blossoms nodding over the edge of the fountain. One of the doors leading into the in terior of the house was softly opened, and an old negro appeared on the threshold. Noiselessly closing it again, he cau tiously approached his young mistress, but she started from her light slumber and sat erect. "U’hat is It, Ralph? Does my father want me?” ‘ No, miss, muster is s'DI asleep; but Mr. Harrison has come back uud asks If he can see Mlsa Florence." ‘Kdward?" The young lady hesi tated a moment, then, sinking into her former attitude, she said fatuity. "Let him come,” Ralph withdrew; and directly after, a young man, fine-looking, but with an arrogant self-cons, ions man net entered the loom * How is my unci*?” he asked quick- j If ‘W hal I heard from the servants 1 outside did noi sound very consoling. I Is he worse*” * I fear so,” replied Florence, softly, j He h«d a bad night and the in creased weakness is alarming He fell j **te*p an hour ago and I used the op portunlty to get a little rent.” Kdward Harrison dtew up a chair and sat down. * Kirns* me if I disturb yon I have lust nun# from the rtty My friend, j t'aptaln Wilson ace• on pan led me and Ike justice of Iks penca, wltk Ik# other wttneaaes will arrive at Ike appointed time All Ike preparation* are made w that the weddtng tun take place tku evening t *Rght trrni,.- tew tUtouau tnn y»ung girt * frsave, and tker* was a tun# vd tear m bar vole* a* ah* naked * I eday — wuat It ha*** * I though! »# kad arranged II dura I) yon conasnlsd ” "Tea. hut | kopad yms would allow m* n Hula time n taw mouths w weeks. What is the use of this fierce haste? Why should the wedding take place beside my father's sick-bed?” "Because it Is your father's last wish and will, as you know from his own lips. He wants to know that you will be safe and sheltered in a husband's amts when danger assails us, and he lias my promise that I will protect you and his property to my last breath." "As soon as it becomes yours—1 don’t doubt it." Edward’s brows contracted angrily. A dark frown shadowed his faca. "What does that mean, Florence? Do you doubt my love? You know that It is bestowed on you alone, not your estates, which, in the sto.ins of war, may he destroyed, like so many which have already been ruined. You must trust me. I shall certainly not sac rifice you to any principle, as others have done.” The allusion was distiurt enough. Florence's head drooped, but her tone betiayed rising indignation, as she re plied: “Was I sacrificed? You say so, and so does my father, but I have never heard It from William's lips, and you were always his enemy, i cannot un derstand ills giving up the struggle so quickly, not even making an attempt to change my views, and sometimes I fear-” She did not finish the sentence, but her eyes, which rested with unmistak able suspicion on her cousin's features, expressed the thought which she did not utter In words. But there was no change in his countenance, and the an swer was equally unmoved and cold. “Surely, you read the letter in which ho broke with your father? Was not that plain enough? He knew the price that would enable him to possess you. It would have cost him only a single word to call you his; yet, instead, he delivered a political lecture on manly honor, duty, conviction and the rest of the set phrases. Well, he followed his conviction and—gave you up." The young girl's pale face began to flush, and her lips were closely com pressed. This was the goad which had conquered her resistance, forced her into the new bond; it produced its ef fect now. i es, tie gave me up, she repeated, bitterly. "Well—I have given him up. too." "And cannot you yet shake off the memory? You have been candid with me, Florence, cruelly candid. I was forced to hear from your lips that that other still held the first place in your heart, that only filial duty won your consent to my suit. He it so! I will venture the risk, even with this state ment. I will cope with this arrogant German, who does not know what love is, who has never felt the full pulse of genuine passion. For me, no price is too high for the prize of pos sessing you. I would overthrow ail that stood between us, were it even what 1 held highest. Resist as you may, I shall yet win you - you and your love.” There was really a touch of genuine passion in the words, and the ardent gaze which rested on the young girl proved that Edward Harrison was not playing a mere game of calculation. Florence unresistingly left the hand he had seized in his clasp. She was half unconsciously under the thrall of this man. whom she feared, for whom no voice in her heart pleaded, yet who exerted an almost demoniacal power over her. (To be continued.) A Prehistoric Cemetery. Workmen terracing King hill, an old landmark of northwestern Missouri, which is to be converted into a resi dence suburb of St. Joseph, have un earthed a prehistoric cemetery. The remains of a race of dwarfs, not allied with any tribe known to have inhab ited this territory, and unaccounted for by Indian legendary, repose on the summit of King hill. A feature re markable in itself and especially marked in connection with the dwarf ish remnants of prehistoric man found in this summit is the discovery of human bones, evidently those of a giant, probably more than seven feet tall and big boned. Low, flat heads, with small Intelligence and marked animal propensities, characterised this people, Heavy Jaws and strong, well preserved teeth carry the records of their lives forward Brutes, human but Inhumane, self-reliant, they are savag<s of a lower order than any we know today. Yet they honored their dead. Shells sut h as ur» found on the banks of many Inland streams, plen tiful ott the sandbars of the Missouri, overlooked by King hilt, and stones of unusual hues, worthless In the com mercial marts of belay, the playthings of children, were deposited la the graves Chicago Iteculd Milk lbs < SWISS l ed list. "Whenever she asks me to do any thing * soUloquiartl Mr Meeker. pen sively. "| always go and do it. like n fwl." "Yen," .aid Mrs, Meeker, who hap pened along In time to overhear him. "whenever I ash you to do anything you always go and do It Ithe a fool Chi-ago Tribune • ■■ I ■■ «ei ei »wa IWWS 'll —seesaw Sms «s mi Me Wssiet tan teeter ‘ I have here a work—“ Master of the tluuee I ran t read ** Canvasser Hut your children —-** Master of the House I have no rhll drea ttriumphantlyl nothing but a rat * Caavasoer - Well, you want something to throw at the cat "* lie took the hook In Itfee battle one avast either ha a struggle! or a straggler A western lady,who formerly lived at Cambridge, Mass., writes entertaining ly of what she declares was the hap piest Christmas of her life. The climax of this merry occasion was a house party given at the home of her uncle not many miles from Cambridge. The lady writes: “My uncle owned a big piaee about twenty miles from town, and every year he Invited all bis relatives to spend the Christmas holidays with him. He was a widower with two chil dren -a son 26 years old and a daugh ter of 17. Thl3 girl, my cousin, Stella, was one of the brightest and most fun-loving gills I have ever known. I was Just two years her senior, and be tween us we managed to rtir up that house party to a degree nothing short of startling! Twenty people beside our family were Inv'ted, there being altogether about thirty guests In the house. Among them were a young law yer from New York (for whom 1 Im mediately conceived a violent admira tion), a naval officer, three Yale men from New Haven. iny two brothers, an antique female cousin of ours (age un known). some girls from New York and a youna married couple from St. lajuis. Before the end of r week Stel la and I bad almost originated a di vorce case, where the young St Louis couple were concerned Of course, there were some other people, but they wire sort of chaperones, old (ogles who didn't count much. Well, that year the 25th of December fell on Wednes day. and the guests were invited from ties. 23 to Jan 2 and I • sn tell you we made Home bowl. My brothers and I. with our parents, arrived at our mu la's 1st * Monday morning The snow had 's«n falling sitadlly for ihltty-als hour*, and was many Inches deep. “We drove from the little rickety station three unite trow* country to the farm. We were the Drat arrivals, and we made govd use of the advan tage over the oth*r invite.) guests Tha neat train, nt 4 ocloth, twilight them all and at 5 they cam* •>>< utlng and singing up to tha house, an sleigh* wagons and arrtagu hot rowed from the farmers all over that part of tha country Wall, tha Brat evening was pga*ed In the htg dining mm. all of oe crowded about tha goating log Br» ; That la. all of ua. a* opting the young laayer from !S»e lurk and my self | Wa were seated on a ikisti-*a»*r*t | soap boa. «■ la a dim corner of tha roam 4t** easing er the mwainUtties ' of •Beet of mistletoe >*a eh mgnhind I Batura IPs randies nets brought In la i aaaoaace tha lima for disappearing,' i ns tno had begun to wudei ■ (and eeeh I other It nee our Bret mrrltng hut In , ihe eountry end at v’hrteiiaaetlde. pern i pie haevims Mgwaiaied vary gutshty. “The next morning we all arose at 8 o’clock, and after the jolliest kind of a breakfast, we hauled In great bunches of evergreen, reels of crow-loot moss, and pile after pile of holly and mistle toe. W’e spent most of the day on step ladders or tables, hammering and tack ing the Christmas decorations In place. And in the evening my uncle had a big pine tree brought In and set up In the parlor. We had each brought scores of little packages from tow n to present on Christmas morning, and these were suspended from the branches of the tree. Mistletoe was everywhere, am! so were the girls. The conse quence will b: readily understood—the men were not of the variety known as shy. “It was long past midnight when we trooped oif to our rooms and 2 o’clock struck before the lasl good night rang down the darkened hallway. As soon as all was quiet, 1 stole from my room, 1 and tip-toed down the corridor to my | cousin Stella's door. It was locked, HKt'KlVBD A PAIR OP Ili'N I l.Nvi THOl 4KIH | but I tappa-l g«ail>. an.I *•• *...u ad mi Had W* t<ro glita alippc.i do* a «Uira lbar* I bad li»M th* bullar III ulj wmn of mi iirlMi i«* wait fur it* And i h» w* gut our thra# b«ad* i tog«ih#r and rumuM « grand »«ham*. fur lb* i|* t»i*g *f ii*i)bkif : in lb* buna* W« \ugg*d **4 baut*4 Ibai Mg wr ktf j ('krlllBM in* fr«M ’hr pfk». through t l* halt l*t*j tba librair. and than •• Mr ha*gad ih* nawaa u* ail in* gr>.**nt* It *** alnitMM 4ai light walor* «• Sutahad but »* an* am pi * ragaid fur urn tr»»uM* H) > Mhik •!•*« baly a a* 4raa**d aa . 40*a «iair* »i«br»gi*g gtaaiiagt 11*4 gift* dlall* im I MN tba taal td a#rl«* and unr mti***a »*» tb* >^>AfVVVVVVVVVVVV>A/N^A/VV>/VVVV^ signal for a grand rush to the parlor. And lo! the big Christmas tree had flown. My uncle was enraged, the guests much excited, and the young lawyer from New York looked very much amused. A search was prompt ly instituted, and of course the tree was found In the library, standing in stately solitude. "Who on earth could have put It there? No one knew—and no one could guess—Stella ara I were particu larly obtuse. And after awhile the presents were distributed. The young married woman's card was inclosed in a bundle of embroidered flannel petti coats to 'my darling husband,’ and ‘darling husband' presented his ‘little love’ with a volume of Mother Goose talcs, and a red bathing suit; my old maid cousin received a Dutch pipe and a pair of hunting trousers; my uncle got a half dozen tulle veils and a pair ] of gold garter clasps." THOSE CHRISTMAS CHILDREN. The little folks at our house—they talk like anything 'Bout Santa Claus cornin', an’ what he's goin’ to bring; An' mother never has to scold, or tell ’em ’bout the noise— They’re just the sweetest little girls — the best of little boys! ’Cause why? They know that Santa Claus knows ever'thlng they do. An' while he's loadin’ up his sleigh lie's watchin' of 'em, too! An’ them that minds their mother, they gets the most o’ toys— They're Just the sweetest little girls — the best o' little boys! They've just been writin' letters to Santa Claus each day. An' tellin' hint just what they want. an' allowin' him the way To where our house la, so'a he'll know Just where to leave the toys Ter Just the sweetest little girls - tha bc»t o' little boys! They're longin', longin’, longin' for ths days and night to go. An' all o' them are happy, an' they make their mother so! She never has to avoid 'em, or tell 'em 'bout the Boise — 'Cause they're the sweetest little girls — the best o' little boye! t »• rtnl| el Peps* inis No child of tndsy would consider a present half a present except, of 1 louree, those that bants Claus with his own hands hang* upon a tree or | thr rat* Into a stinking uulewa It were hidden In manifold paper wrappings at the bottom of a box with a bright eel ore*' Christmas card lying on tup of It. tayoire a uatomsd to being with chit Iren will appreiUte the pleasure that | the aseaeeurtae of their Christmas gifts glue them Every scrap af ribbon the I ’ latest card, the very arrays of hrtgbr a rapping paper are att hoarded, and | uwsd sum* where fur decoration The i little girl make# saahea ef the rlhboeg and dresses for her paper dulls ef I ha | ilseua wrapping* while the tarda ears# I ti prketee* works ef art we the anile I of set pie; house The lucky man te the »«g who mm •nd ettpe hie egpefleaEp.