Omaha Daily Bee Newspaper, December 16, 1894, Page 20

20 THE OMAHA DAILY BEE: SU DAY, DECEMBER 16, 1894 CLARENCE. By Bret (Copyright. 1894, PART 11.—Chapter 1. Night at last, and the stir and tumult of | a great fight over. Bven the excitement that | had swept this portion of the battlefiell—only | & small section of a vaster area of struggle— into which a brigade had marched, held its own, been beaten back, recovered its ground, and, pursuing, had passed out of it forever, leaving only its dead behind, and knowing nothing more of that struggle than its own Impact and momentum—even this wild exclte- | ment had long evaporated with the stinging smoke of gunpowder, the acrid smell of burning rags from the clothing of a dead | goldier fired by a bursting shell, or the heated reck of sweat and leather. A cool breath that seemed to bring back once more odor of the upturned along now dumb line of battle, began to move the sugges!ive darkness beyond. But into that awful penctralia of death and sllence there was now no invasion—there had been no retreat. A few of the wounded had been brought out under fire, but the others had been left with the dead for the mnmlm:! 1ight and succor. For it was known that in that horrible obscurity riderless horses, fran- tle with the emell of blood, galloped wildly here and there, or, maddened by wounds, plunged furiously at the infruder, that the wounded soldier, still armed, couid not al- ‘ways distinguish jend from foe or from the ghouls of camp followers who stripped the dead in the darkness and struggled with the dying. A shot or two heard somewhere in that obscurity ccunted as nothing with the long fusilade that had swept it in the day- time; the passing of a single life, more or less, amountcd to little in the long roll cail of the day’s ter. But with the first beams of the morning sun—and the slowly moving ‘“relief detail” from the camp—came a weird half resurrec- tion of that ghastly ficld. Then it was that the long rays of sunlight, streaming many a mile beyond the battle line, first pointed out the harvest of the d where the serves had been posted. There they lay in heaps and piles, killed by solid shot or burst- ing shells that had leaped the battle line to plunge into the waiting ranks beyond sun lifted higher its beams fell within range of musketry fire where the dead lay thicker, even as they had fallen when killed outright, with arms extended, and all angles te the fleld. As it these dead upturned faces, enough it brought out no slon of pain nor anguish, but it death had arrested them only with sur- prise and awe. It revealed on the lips of those who had been mortally wounded, and had turned upon their side, the relief which death had brought their suffering, sometimes even with a smile ounting higher, it glanced upon the actual battle line, curving for the shelter of walls, fe breastworks—and here the dead as when they had lain and fired, t) prone in the grass, but their muskets still resting acro e breastworks. osed to grape and canister from the batt 3 ridge, death had come to them also—through the head and throat. the whole fleld lay bare in the sunlight-— broken with grotesque shadows cast from sitting, crouching, half recumbent, but always rigid, figures, that might have been effigies of their own monuments. One half-kneeling soldier, with head bowed between his stif- fened hands, mizht have stood for a carven figure of grief at the fect of Lis dead com- rade. A captain shot through the brain in the act of mounting a wall lay sideways half across it, his lips parted with the word of command, and sword still pointing over the barrier the way that they should go. But it was not until the sun had mounted Thigher that it struck the central horror of the fleld and scemed to linger there in dazzling persistence, now and then returning to it in startling flashes, that it might be seen of men and those who brought succor. A tiny brook had run obliquely near the battie line. It was here that the night before the battle friend and foe had filled their canteens side by side with soldierly recklessness, or per- haps a higher Instinct, purposely ignoring each other’s presence. It was here that the wounded had afterward crept, crawled, and dragged themselves; here they had pushed, wrangled, striven and’ fought for a draught of that precious fluld which thirst of their wounds—or happily put them out of their misery forever; here, overborne, crushed, suffocated by numbers, pouring their own blood into the flood and tumbling after it with their helpless bodies, they dammed the stream, until, recolling, red and angry, it had burst its banks and overflowed the cotton fleld in a brave pool that now sparkled in the sunlight, But below this human dam —a mile away—where the brook still crept sluggishly, the ambulance horses sniffed and started from it. The detail moved on slowly, doing their work expeditiously and apparently call-usly, but really only with that mechanical move- ment that saves emotion. Only once were they moved to an outbreak of indignation— the discovery of the body of an cflicer whose pockets were turned inside out, but whose hand was still tightl> grasped on his buttoned waisteoat, as If resisting the outrage that had been done while still in life. As the men disengaged the stiffened hand smething slipped from the walstcoat to the groond. The corporal picked it up and handed it to his officer. It was a sealed * packet. The officer recefved it with the carelessness which long experience of these pathetic missives from the dying to their . living relations had induced and dropped it in the pocket of his tunic, with the half dozen others that he had picked up that mecrniag, and moved on with the detall. A littls further on they halted in the attitude of attention as a mounted officer appeared riding slowly down the line. There was something more habitual respect of thelr superior in their faces as he came forward. For it was the geveral whit had commanded the brigade the day before—the man who leaped with one bound into the forward rank of military Jeaders. It was his invincible spirit that had led the advance, held back defeat against overwhelming numbers, sustained the rally, impressed his subordinate officers with his own undeviating purpose, and even impressed among them an almost superstitions belief in his destiny of success. It was this man wh hpd done what it was deemed impossible to do—what even at this time it was thought unwiso and unstrategic to do—who had held a weak position, of apparently no importance, under the mandate of an incomprohensible crder from his superlor—which at best asked only for a sacrifice and was rewarded with a victory. He had decimated his brigade, but the wounded and' dying hud cheered i as he passed, and the suryivors had pursued tho enemy untll the bugle called them back. Foi such a recerd he looked still too young and even effeminate, albeit his handsome face was dark and serious and his manner taciturn. His quick ove had already caught sight of the rifled bady cf the officer and contracted. As the captain of the detall saluted him, he sald, curtly: *I thought the orders were to fire upon any one desecrating the dead?” “They are, general, but give us a chance, low saved from ofticer, as he h has no address The general tock it, examined the envclope, thrust it fnto his belt, and seld, “I will ¢ charge of it. The sound of horses' hoofs c. rocky roadside behind the bush, turned. A number of field oflicers wers ap- proaching, “The divislon staif” sald the captain in a lower volee, falling back. They cawe slowly forward, a central figure | on a gray borse leading here, as in histc A short, thick-set man with a grizzled bea elosely cropped around an Inscrutable m.uth, and the serious formalily of a respectable couniry deacon in his aspect, which even the single star on the shoulder strap of his loose ST 2ot M SRR L2 dently percelved the general <f brigade and quickened his horse as (o latter drew e staff followed more leisurcly, but till with w aurlo-l;y ;n : ness th lhu.ohl he goneral of the army with the 4 general saluted, hut wi- since earthwork from | expr rather as mercifully And now than the the Lyenas don't That's all yonder poor fel- their claws,” replied the up the ealed packet. *“It| me from the Loth men by Dret | carefully a few inches away from the fa Harte. Harte.) most Instantly withdrew his leather gauntlet and offered his bared hand to the brigadier. The words of the heroes are scant. The drawn up detall, the waiting staff, listened. | This was all they heard “Hullock tells me you're from Californial” “Yes, general."” 1 lived Wonderful count my time, 1 suppos ex, general." “Great resources, Finest wheat growing | country in the world, sir. You don't happen to know what the actual crop was this year?" ‘Hardly, general, but something enormous.” s, 1 always said it would be. Have a here, too, in the early days. Developed greatly since clgar?! He handed his cigar case to the brigadier Then he took one himeelf, lighted it at th smouldering end of the one he had taken | from his mouth, was absut to throw the stump carelessly down, but, suddenly recollecting himself, leaned over his horse and dropped it | e of Then stralghtening himself | in the saddle he shoved his horse against the brigadier, moving him a little further on while a slight movement of his hand kept the | staff from following. “A heavy loss here “I'm afraid €0, general.” “It couldn’t be helped. We had to rush in vour brigada to gain time, and occupy the enemy until we could change fron The young al looked at the shrowd, cold eyes of his chief. “Change front?’ he| echoed, “Yes. Defore a gin was fired it appe that the enemy was in complete posses of all our plans, and knew every det fornied movem: s, All h The younger man now the incomprehensible The general of divi “You un- | derstand, therefore, General Brant, that in the face of this extraordinary treachery the utmost vigilance is required, and a complete and civil- t the actual £py within our lines, | =altor we are harboring who has be- | sessed of this information. You will | and weed out all sus- | on which you are tol plantation you will | your private qua well a re claared of all you care much for.”” He reined gain extended his hand, saluted, and re lis staff. Brig General C mained for a moment with his head bent in admiring contemplation of the ccolness of | his veteran chief under this exciting dis- closure and the strategy with which he had frustr the traitors’ success, Then his the i packet in his belt ¢ it out and broke the was filled with papers a dead lier. nd you will see the tha but lis T ence Drant re- | domestio arrang | certa | them o clew to his wite's participation in | or remote. There was risk enough former course, which his duty made im- perative. He hardly dared to think of the past day's slaughter, which, thete was no doubt now, had beem -due to, the previous work of the spy, and how hiz brigade had been selected, by the irony of fate, to suffer for and yet retrleve it. If she had a hand in this wicked plot, ought he to spare her? Or were his destiny and hers to be thus mon- strously linked together? Luckily, however, the exposure of the chiet offender and the timely discovery of his pa- pers enabled the division commander to keep the affair discreetly silent, and to enjoin equal secrecy on the part of Brant. The latter, however, did not relax his vigilance, and after the advance the next day he made a minute inspection of the ground he was to occupy, its approaches and connection with the out- lying country and the rebel lines, Increased the stringency of pleket and senfry regula- tions, and exercised a rigid surveillance of noncombatants and clvilians within the lines even to the lowest canteener or camp fol- lower. Then he turned his attention to the house he was to occupy as his headquarters It was a fine specimen of the old colonfal planter’s house, with its broad verandas, its great detached offices and negro quarters, and had, thus far, escaped th a nd billetting of the war. It had b by its owner up to a few before the engagement, and so great had been the con- fidence of the enemy in their success that it had been used as confederate quarters on the morning of the decisive bat- tle. Jasmine and rose, unstained by the sulphur of gunpowder, twined around ruined columns and half hid the recessed windows; the carcless flower garden was till in fts unkept and unplucked luxu- riance, the court yard before the stables alone showed marks of the late military oc cupaicy, and was pulverized by the uneasy horse hoofs of the waiting staff. But the mingled impress of barbaric prodigality with patriarchal simplicity was still there in the ments of a race who lived with strangers and their own , near in the on equal term: servants, The negro servants still remained with a n cat-like fidelity to the pace and adapted themselves to the northern invader: with a child-like enjoyment of the novelty of the change. Drant, nevertheless, looked r with an experienced eye, and sat- isfied himself of their trustworthiness; there were the usual number of ‘“boys,” gray- haired and ed in body service, and the “mammies” and ‘‘aunt of the kite There were two or three rcoms in the wing which still contained private articies, pie- tures and souvenirs of the family, and a ‘young lady's” boudoir which Brant, with characteristic delicacy, kept carcfully isolated and intact from his mility o a, and accessib'e only to the fam nts. The room he had selected for himself was nearest it—a _small, plainly furnished apartment with an almost conventual simplicity s white walls ond draperies and the nun-like bed. It struck him that it might have belonged to some prim elder daughter or maiden aunt who had acted as keeper, as it commanded the wing and the ervants' offices with easy access to the cen- tral hall. There ek of in followed a W inactivity, SAW HIS ADVERSARY COLLAPSE. and memorandums. As he glaneed at them his face darkened and his brow knit. He glanced quickly around him. —The stait had trotted away; the captain and his de- tail were continuing their work at a little distance. ~ He took a long breath, he was holding in his hand a tracing of their p:- sition, even of the position he was to oc- cupy tomorrow and a detailed account of the movements, plans and force of the whole division as had been arranged in council of war the day before the battle. But there was no indication of the writer or his in- tentions. He thrust the papers hurriedly back into the envelope and placed it this time in his breast. He galloped toward the captain. “Let me see the officer from whom you took that packet?'” The captain led him to where the body lay, with others, cxtended more decently on the grass awaiting removal. General Brant with difficulty suppressed an cjaculation, “Why, it's one of our own men!" he said quickly. “Yes, general. They say it's Lieutenant Wainwright, a regular of the division sup- ply department.” “Then what was he doing here?” asked General Brant, sharply. “1 can’t make out, sir; unless he went into the last advance as a volunteer. Wanted to see the fight, I reckon. He was a dash- ing fellow, a West Poluter—and a southerner, too—a Virginian.' “A Virginian!” echoed Brant, quickly, “Yes, sir."” “Search him again,” said Brant quietly. He had recovered his usual coolness, and as the captain again examined the body, he took out his tablets ard wrote a few lines. It was an order to search the quarters of Lieutenant Wainwright and bring all papers, letters and documents to uim. He then beckoned one of the detall toward him. “Pake that to the provost marshal at once. Well, captain,” he added calmly, as the officer again approached him, “what do you find 2" “Only this,” returned the eaptain, with a half emile, producing a small photograph, *'I suppose It was overlooked, t0o,” He handed it to Braot, There was a fudden fixing of the com- manding officer’s eyes, but his face did not otherwise change. * “The usual find, general. rather a handsome woman." “Very,” sald Clarence Brant quictly. was the portrait of his own wife! But th's time It PART IL—Chapter 11 So complete was his conirol of volce and manner that as he galloped back to his quar- ters no one wouid have dreamed that General Brant had just looked uzon the likeness of his wife from whom he had parted in anger four years ago. Still less would they have sus- pected the singular fear me upon him that in gome vague way s connected with the treachery he hac iscovered. He had heard from her and’ then through her late husband’s lawyer in regard to her California property, and believed that sho had gene to her relations in Alabama, where she had identifiod herself with the southern cousé even o tho sacrifice of her private fortune. He had heard her name mentioned In the southern press as a fascinat- ing soclety leader, and even coadjutrix of southern politicians—but e had no reason to believe that sho had tzken so active or so desperate & part in the struggle. He tried to think that his uncasiness sprang from his recollection of the previous treachery of Cap- tain Plackncy, and the part that” she had played in the California conspiracy—although he had long since acquitted her of the be- trayal of another trust. But there was a fate- ful similarity (n the, two cases. There was no doubt that this Lieutenant Wainwright was & tralter in the camp—that he had suc- cumbed to the miserable sophistry of his class In regard o his superior alleglance to s native state, But was there the induce- ment of another emotion, or was the photo- graph only the souvenir of a fascinating priestexs of rebellion whom the dead man ygd melt There waj pmfi s legs of feeling than 7 scorn In the first SOEgestion, but pe was, nevertheless, relleved when the provost rs In Nor did he veveal to marshal found no Incriminating ight's effects the division general the finding of the photo- graph. It was sufiicient to disclose the work ©of the traltor without adding what migh' be | | which Brant felt a singular resemblance in this southern mansion to the old casa at Robles. The afternoon shadows of the deep verandas recalled the old monastic gloom, of the Spanish house, which even the presence of a lounging officer or waiting orderly eonld not entirely dissipate, and the scent of the cose and jasmine from his windows over- came him ‘with sad memories. He began to chafe wnder this inaction, and long again for the excitement of the march and bivouac, in which for the past four years he had buried his past. He was sitting one afternoon alone before his reports and dispatches when this influence scemed o strong that he half impulsively laid them aside to indulge in a long reverie. He was recalling his last days at Robles, the carly morning duel with Pinckney, the re- turn to San Francisco, and the sudden reso- lution which sent him that day across the continent to offer his services to the govern- ment. He remembered his delay in the western town, where a volunteer regiment was being recruited, his entrance into it as a private, his rapid_sele(tion, through the force of his sheer devotion and intelligent concentration, to the captaincy of his com- pany, his swift promotion on hard-fought fields to the head of the regiment, and the singular success that had followed his re- sistless energy, which left him no time to think of anything but his duty. The sudden intrusion of his wife upon his career, even in this accidental and perhaps innocent way, had serjously unsettled him. The shadows were growing heavier and decper, it lacked only a few moments of the sunset bugle when he was recalled to himself by that singular instinctive consciousness— common to humanity—of being intently looked at. He turned quickly—the door behind him closed softly. He rose and slipped into the hall, The fali figure of & woman was going down the passage. She was erect and grace- ful, but as she turned toward the door lead- ing to the offices, he distinetly saw the gaudily turbaned head and black silhouette of a ne- gress, Nevertheless, he halted a moment at the door of the next rcom. “See who that woman fs who just passed, Mr. Martin, She doesn’t seem to belong to the house.” The young officer rose, put on his cap, and departed. In a few minutes he returned, “Was she tall, sir—of a good figure and very straight “Yes." “She 13 a servant of our neighbor's, Manlys, who occasionally here. A mulatto, I think.” Brant reflected. Many of the mulattos and negresses were of good figure, and the habit of carrying burdens on their heads gave them a singularly erect carrlage, The lieutenant locked at his chief, “Have you any orders to give concerning al sald Brant after a moment's pause, and turned away. The officer smiled. It seemed a good story to tell at mess of this human weakness of b handsome, reserved, and ascetic-locking 1:ader. A few mornings afterward Brant was inter- rupted over his reports by the almost abrupt entrance of the officer of the day. His face was flushed, and it was evident that only the presence of his superior restrained his ex- citement. He held a paper in his hand. “'A lady presents this order and pass from Washington, countersigned by the division genera! “A lady “Yes, sir—she is dressed a has not only declined the most ordinary civili- ties and courtesies we have offered her, but has insulted Mr. Martin and myself grossly, and demands to be shown to you alone.” Brant took the paper. "It was.a special or- der from the president passing Miss Matilda Faulkner (hrough the federal lines to vi her uncle's home, known as “Gray. Oaks," now held and occupied as the headquarters of Brant's brigade, in order to arrange for the preservation and disposal of certain family eftects and private property that, still r mained there, or to take QAITY away such property, And invoking aM necessary aid and assistance from “' United States forces in such gécupahey. wak 0 umf e? by the division commander. It ‘was perfectly tegi- lar and of undoubted authenticity. He had heard of pass.s of this kind—the terror of the army—issued .in - Washington:- under . some strange controlling influence and agalost mili- R the isits the servants such. But she head- | its | house- | | tary protest, but he did not let his subordi see the uneasiness with which it filled him. “Show her in,”” he sald quietly. But she had already entered, brushing scornfully past the officer, and drawing her skirt aside as if contaminated. A very pretty southern girl, scornful and red-lipped, clad in a gray riding habit, and still carry- ing her riding whip clenched ominously in her slim, ganntleted hand. “You have my permit in your hand,” she eald brusquely, hardly ralsing her eyes to Brant. “T suppose {t's all straight enough, and even If it fsn't, 1 don’t reckon to be kept waiting with those hirelings.” “Your ‘permit’ is ‘straight enough,’ Miss Faulkner,” said Brant slowly reading her name from the document before him, ‘“‘but as it does not seem to include permission to insult my officers, yan will perhaps allow them first to retire.” He made a sign to the officer, who passed out of the door. As it closed, he went on in a gentle, but coldly | unimpassioned volce: ‘4 perceive yon are a southern lady, and themefvre I need not re- mind you that it is mot considered good form to treat cven the slaves of those one does mot like uncivilly, and 1 must there- fore expect that yon will keep your active y for myself.” young girl liftelk her eyes, She b cvidently not expected to meet a man young, so handsome, refined, and & coldly invincible inemanner. Stll less was she prepared for that kind of antagonism In keeping up her preconcerted attitude toward the “northern hireling” sho had met with official brusqueness, contemptuous silence, or a feved mmdignation—but noth- ing as exasperating as this. She even fancied th this elegant but sardonic-looking soldier was inwardly mocking her. She bit her red | lip, but with a scornfal gesture of her riding whip, said “I reckon that your knowledge of south- ern ladies is, for certain reasons, not very extensive.”” “Pardon me, I | marrying on Apparently more exasperated than before she turned upon him_abruptly. “You say my pass is all right. Then I presume I may attend to the business that brought me here."” “Certainly, but you will forgive me if 1 imagined that an expression of contempt for ur hosts was no part of it. “He rang a bell on the table. It was responded to by an | orderly. “Send all the household servants | here.” he dusky and there | but the majority of the trus negro acceptance of. the “‘an oce One or two en affected an official dierly bearing. And, as e | wxpected, there were several glances | ccognition of the strang | “w . sald Brant cternly, | aid and atteation to the wants of thi | lady, who is here to repreient the in your old master. As she will nt upon you in all thin her visit here, see to it fhat she have to complain to me of any. inattention-—or to ba obliged to ask for other a As Miss Faulkner, albeit a trifie paler in the cheek, but as scornful as ever, was ubout to follow the servant from the room, Brant stopped her with a coldly courteous gesture: “You will have had the honor of room was presently filled with the faces of the negro retainers. Here s the gleaming of white teeth mbly wore the importance of you will net be exy to any contact with the members of my military family, nor they with you.” “Am I then to be a prisoner in this housa - and under A free pass oi—your—president?” she said indignantly. ‘By no means. You are free to come and go and see whom you plaase. 1 have no power to control your actions, but I have power to control theirs. She swept furiously from the room. ‘‘That is quite enough to fill her with a desire to flirt with every man here,” sald Brant (o himself with a faint smile, “but I fancy they have had a taste enough of her quality.” Nevertheless, he sat down and wrote a few lines to the division commander, pointing out that he had already placed the owner's pri- vate property under strict surveillance, that it was cared for and perfectly preserved by the household servants, and that the pas: was evidently obtained as a subterfuge. this he received a formal reply, regretting that the authorities of Washington still found it necessary to put’ this kind of.risk and burden on the army in the fleld, but that the order emanated from the highest authority and must be strictly oheyed. At the botiom of the page, however, was a charactoristic line in the general's ‘own hand: *Not the kind that is dangerous.”” A flush mounted Brant's cheeks, a3 if it contained not only a hidden, but a personal significance. Ile thought of his own wife, * Singularly enough, a day or two later, at dinner, the conversation turned upon the in- tense_sectional feeling:of southern women— probably induced by their late experien Brant at the head of: the table, in his habitual abstraction, was scarcely following the some- what excited diction off Colonel Strangeways, one of his staff. “No, &ir,” reiterated the in- dignant warrior, “‘take my word for it, a southern woman is not to be trusted on this point, whether as a sister, sweetheart or wife. And when she is trusted she's bound to get the better of the man In any of those relations!” The dead silence that followed, the ominous joggle of a glass at the speaker's elbow, the quick, sympathetic glance that Brant instinctively felt was directed to his own face, and the abrupt change of subject, could not but arrest hig attention—even if he had overlooked the speech. His face, how- ever, betrayed nothing It had never, how- ever, occurred to him before that his family affairs might be known—neither had he ever thought of keeping them a secret. It scemed 80 purely a personal and private misfortune that he had never dreamed of its having any public' Interest., Aud even now he was a little ashamed of what he believed was his sensitiveness to mere conventional criticism, which, with the instinct of a proud man, he had despised. He was not far wrong in his sardonic intuition of the effect of his prohibition upon Miss Faulkner's feelings. Certainly that young lady, when not engaged in her mysterious occupaticn of arranging her uncle's effects, occasionally was seen in tha garden and In the wonds beyond. Althougl her presence was the signal for the “oblique’ of any lounging “shoulder strap” or the vacant' “front” of a pecsted sentry, she seemed to regard thelr occasional proximity with less active disfavor. Once when she had mounted the wall to gather a magnolia bloss'm the chair by which she had de- scended rolled over, leaving her on the wall, At a signal from the guard room two sappers and miners appeared, carrying a scaling ladder, which they piaced silently against the wall, and as silently withdrew. On an- other occasion the same spirited young lady, whom Brant was. satisfied would have prob- ably imperiled her life under fire, in devo- tirn to her cause, was brought ignominiously to bay in the field by that most appalling of domestic animals, . the wandering and un- trammeled cow. Dramt could not help smil- ing as he heard the quick, harsh call to “turn out guard,” saw the men marched solidly with fixed bayonets to the vicinity of the affrighted animal, who fled, leaving the fair stranger to walk shamefacedly to the heuse. He was surprised, however, that she should have halted before his door and with tremulous indignation said “I thank you, sir, for your chivalrousness in turning a defenseless woman into ridicule.” “I regret, Miss Faulkner,” began Brant gravely, “that you should believe that 1 am able to contr:l the advances of farm yard cattle as easily as—" but he stopped as he saw that the angry flash of ber blue eyes, as she darted from him, were set in tears. A little. remorseful on’ the following day added a word to his ordinary cap lifting when he passed Ler, but she retained a r prachful silence. Later in the day he re- ceived from her servant a respectful re- quest for an interview and was relieved to find that she entered bis presence with no trace of her former aggression—but rather with the resignation of & deeply injured, yet not entirely unforgiving woman. “I thought,” shé began coldly, “that 1 ought to inform you ithat I would probably be able to conclude my business here by the day after tomorrow, and that you would then be relieved of my presence. I am aware, in- deed,” she added, bitterly, “I could scarcely help perceiving, thati it has been an ex- ceedingly irksome ane’ “I trust,” began:Buant, coldly, “that gentleman of my command has—" “No!"" she interrupted him quickly, with a rgturn of her former manner and a passion- ate sweep of ber hand, “do you suppose for 4 moment that I am speaking—that I am even thinking—of them! What are they to me? “Thank you, T ame glad to know that they are nothing, andithat I may now trust that you have consulted my wishes and have no RAYMOND'S CHRISTMAS GIFTS Make a presentation worthy of yourself—make it one of everlasting usefulness—or surpassing beauty. not begin to express an idea of the thousands of Fancies awaiting your inspection at our store. Gorham's Z‘-/:‘;/[';;' Dish /\’t'f('l;/ Book with Each L‘/},»:A/i;/g. Dish Swd. LIST O OLD FOR AND YOUNG. This list is large—Dbut it does" new Christmas STERLING SILVER RAYMOND’S les. Jeweled, merald Rin ove Solitaires, los, Heart Loc Hair Pins, J M ., Jeweled. Rings. CHAFING DISH Link Bu tache Miljtar render 18 Nickel Plate copper— HAS— Full pan, and HAS — ho now aleohol burr size cbony at ALL up TO FFOR MEN. FOR WO Relt Buckles Bon Bon ok Toot Hook e Openers. sners, arinns, wrinas, Jewele xos nckles. lit 'in kerchiet Pins Lorgnettes, Manicur Needie Pocket 1 Bc « « « « « 1 i « « « 1 i 1 Knives Knives, ures. ush Holders, oppings Lists. *hains. I Toilet Articles. hot $100. STERLING SILVER Articles. IFOR BABY. »don solid \ Y wilds Wl and handled Pushers, s« Buttons, b older Christmas Birthday Cups. Knif improved er, and Fork. Kin Rings. GOLD GIFTS FOR BABY. s Buttons. PRICES , B0c and up. GOLD GIFTS FOR MEN MEN d. 1 Studs, Ane. od. M Safes, Jeweled. Match Safes; xes. Reliable Scarf Pins, ender Buckl mblem: Rugs Have you scen our 15th and Douglas Streets. handsome present. New Cut G JEWELFER, as Gifts $3.75 o0 o) 2.10 Baa o) 1.00 54 inch white, 90 CARPET TURKISH PRAY Each $7.50, $9.00 and $11.00. lass Palace ? >.'S. RAYMOND, Open. Evenings till Christmas. Are desirable, as one never has too many and so little money buys a Our December Rug Sale surpasses all others. have prepared for it, and no lot of rugs has been too large tor this sale. Our expericnce of last year proved to us that great quantities could be sold at low price SMYPNA RUGS— 6 feet by 3 feet. 60 inch by 30 inch. 54 inch by 26 inch..... 48 inch by 21 inch. 36 inch by 18 inch. .... MOQUETTE RUGS— 72 inch by 36 inch.....$3.75 00 inch by 27 inch. .... 2.50 36 inch by 18 inch..... We FUR RUGS— by 28 inch, black,gray, each $2.50 R RUGS— See this Christmas Rug display in west window. Orchard & Wilhelm Co. 1414-16-18 Douglas St. reserved your anjmosity for Brant quictly, for your least.” She rose instantly, “I have, she said slowly, controlling herself with a slight effort, “found some one who will take my duty off my hands. She is a servant of onc of your neighbors—who is an old friend of my uncle’s—the woman is familiar with the house and our private property. 1 will give her full instructions to act for me—and even an authorization in writing if you prefer it She is already in the habit of coming here— but her visits will give you very littie trouble. And, as she is a slave—or, as you call it, I believe—a chattel, she will be al- ready quite accustomed to the treatment which her class are in the habit of receiving from northern hands.”” Without waiting to percelve the effect of her Parthian shot, she swept proudly out of the room. “I wonder what he means?”’ mused Brant as her quick step died away in the passage. “One thing is certain, & woman like that is altogether too impulsive for a spy.” Later, in the twilight, he saw ler walking in the garden. There was a figure at her side. A little curious, he examined it more closely from his window. It was already familiar to him—the erect, shapely form of his nelghbor's servant. A thoughtful look passed over his face as he muttered: ‘So this is to be her deputy!" (To Be Continued.) — - - me, “If that is s0, T hurrying your returned € 1o reason depariare in the New Orleans' Slave Hlock. A New Orleans paper says that the dome of the old St. Louls hotel, now the Hotel Royal, ‘where Govermor McKinley stopped, was famous. before the war as the slave market of New Orleans. The planters and slave merchants used the St. Louls hotel as a sort of meeting place, and the slave block under the great dome was a convenlence that grew more and more popular. It was here that Abraham Lincoln, when a boy, stood and watched ‘the sale of slaves, and it wab liere that he made the remark, afte wards so famous: “If I ever get a chance to hit that I'll hit It bard.” ~During the banquet, after the meeting at the Aud torium, Governor McKinley stood over the spot where the slave block had been and made his respopse to the toast which the enthuslastic soutberners dravk (o bim. LL THE READ President of the Purinzton Bri Disappenrs with the Mon CHICAGO, Dec. 1 harles president of the Purington Is missing. . Purington, Brick company, . His father-in-law, T. 8. Dob- bins, who was his business assoclate, charges him with the misappropriation of §10,000 of the firm's money. Purington was at his office Thursday of last week, when he sent a note to his wife saying le was going to Milwaukee, to be absent a few days. He left then, without saying anything to the office attaches, and has not been seen , neither has any word been recelyed from him. It was thought he might hay been foully dealt with when his disappear- ance was first noticed, as no one suspected any Arregularities in his business affairs, An investigation, however, Mr. Dobbins says, reveals that his accounts with the com- pany were not correct. The amount of the discrepancy Is not yet known. The missing man was president and gencral manager of the Purington Brick Manufacturing com- pany, capitalized at $100,000. Mr, Dobbins was the secretary and treasurer. It was he who put up the capital. -All of the stock | was held in the family. While Dobbins fur- | nished the capital, he allowed his 50 one-half of the profits, This was consider- able for a period, but during last year the business was conducted at a lo “His | crookedness does not cover a period of more | than & month," said Dobbins, “but Kot away with all my ready cash in that time e way he did it was to collect bills due the firm and pocket the money. e Dalrymen lu Conve NEW YORK, Dec. 15 meeting of the members of Mercantile exchange and of Auxiliary association of the unlon, was held here. Geor the New York Auxiliary 1 The object of the meeting was to recely the report of G. W. Wilson of Elgin, 1l secretary of the National Dalry union. Pres- ident Boyce, in his introductory addrese, stated that the object and province of th dairy union was the suppression of fraudu- lent trafic in imitations of dairy products and then introduced Secretary Wilson, who, | In an able address, spoke.of the work being | done by the Natioual Dalry union for thei An 0 the New York | the New York ational Dalry Boyce of | presided | of the Corinne M suppression, by national and state legisla tion, of fraudulent traffic in dairy products, Vengennce o urderer's Father. PAULDING, 0., Dec. 16.—An attempt was made last night’ to blow up the house of David Hart, father of the murderer of the Good children. Three dynamite cartridges were used, but only cne exploded, Had all gone off the house would bave been wrecked. Hart and his family are terribly frightened and left this morning to o o’ relatives in Indiana. The common pleas court &t Paule ding is now being adjourned from day to day, 50 that the murderer, Charles Hart, may be arralgned without its being publicly Known. in time to aitempt v lynching. 1f he pleady not guilty his trial will take place in some neighboriug county. R Eighteen housand Wanting o SAN FRANCISC 0, Dec. 15, SHVIHKI Loan bank is trylng to find the heirs of | Alexander Smith, belleved to have boen lost {on the steamer Golde Gat, which was burned oft the Mexican o in 1562, Thirty-two years ago Smith deposited $2,600 in the bank. With the accumulated intefe est it now amounts to $18,000. Smith's olde- est child, It has been learncd, was {0 follom | ber father on the next steamer for Brooklyn, where lier relatives lived. If alive, Jano. i 5oW 60 years old, and is the only direct heip to her father's estate, comprised in the nioney at the Saviogs Loan bank, i Now York Weekly Bank 8 ' YORK, Dec. 15,—The statement shows the followin serve, increase, $443,175; $862,200; 8y tenders, crease, $1,246,300; circulation, di 900. The ‘banks now hold $33,845,825 in. ox ceas of (e requirements of tie 25 per ceat rule, Owner. decrease, 900; logal deposits, des easo, §2 Mr. J. K. Fowler, secretary and (reasurep k Co., of Corinne, Utah, in speaking of Chamberla n‘: Cough Remedy, says 1 consider it the best n the market. I ve used many kinds, but find Chamberlain’'s most prompt and effectual in giving rellef, and now keep no other in m home.” * When troubled with a cold or cougl give this remedy & trial, and we assure ‘G. that you will be more than pleased result, i AN A