Part 26 (2/2)

”Graham,” he murmured feebly--”Graham, is that you?”

”Yes, yes, and I'll save you yet. Oh, in the name of Grace, I adjure you to live.”

”Alas for Grace! My dream--will come true.”

”Oh, Hilland, no, no! Oh, that I could die in your place! What is my life to yours! Rally, Warren, rally. My fleet horse is tied near, or if you are too badly wounded I will stay and nurse you. I'll fire a pistol shot through my arm, and then we can be sent to the hospital together.

Here, take more brandy. That's right. With your physique you should not think of death. Let me lift you up and stanch your wound.”

”Don't move me, Graham, or I'll bleed to death instantly, and--and--I want to look in your face--once more, and send my--true love to Grace.

More brandy, please. It's getting light again. Before it was dark--oh, so dark! How is it you are here?”

”I came back for you. Could I ride away and you not with me? Oh, Warren! I must save your life. I must, I must!”

”Leave me, Graham; leave me at once. You will be captured, if not killed,” and Hilland spoke with energy.

”I will never leave you. There, your voice proves that your strength is coming back. Warren, Warren, can't you live for Grace's sake?”

”Graham,” said Hilland, solemnly, ”even my moments are numbered. One more gush of blood from my side and I'm gone. Oh, shall I become nothing? Shall I be no more than the decaying tree behind which I crawled when struck down? Shall I never see my peerless bride again?

She would always have been a bride to me. I can't believe it. There must be amends somewhere for the agony of mind, not body, that I've endured as I lay here, and for the anguish that Grace will suffer. Oh, Graham, my philosophy fails me in this strait, my whole nature revolts at it. Mere corruption, chemical change, ought not to be the end of a _man_.”

”Do not waste your strength in words. Live, and in a few short weeks Grace may be your nurse. Take more brandy, and then I'll go for a.s.sistance.”

”No, Graham, no. Don't leave me. Life is ebbing again. Ah, ah!

farewell--true friend. Un--bounded love--Grace. Commit--her--your care!”

There was a convulsive shudder and the n.o.ble form was still.

Graham knelt over him for a few moments in silent horror. Then he tore open Hilland's vest and placed his hand over his heart. It was motionless. His hand, as he withdrew it, was bathed in blood. He poured brandy into the open lips, but the powerful stimulant was without effect. The awful truth overwhelmed him.

Hilland was dead.

He sat down, lifted his friend up against his breast, and hung over him with short, dry sobs--with a grief far beyond tears, careless, reckless of his own safety.

The bushes near him were parted, and a sweet girlish face, full of fear, wonder, and pity, looked upon him. The interpretation of the scene was but too evident, and tears gushed from the young girl's eyes.

”Oh, sir,” she began in a low, faltering voice.

The mourner paid no heed.

”Please, sir,” she cried, ”do not grieve so. I never saw a man grieve like that. Oh, papa, papa, come, come here.”

The quick pride of manhood was touched, and Graham laid his friend reverently down, and stood erect, quiet, but with heaving breast. Hasty steps approached, and a gray-haired man stood beside the young girl.

”I am your prisoner, sir,” said Graham, ”but in the name of humanity I ask you to let me bury my dead.”

”My dear young sir, in the name of humanity and a more sacred Name, I will do all for you in my power. I am a clergyman, and am here with a party from a neighboring village, charged with the office of burying the dead with appropriate rites. I have no desire to take you prisoner, but will be glad to entertain you as my guest if the authorities will permit. Will you not give me some brief explanation of this scene while they are gathering up the dead?”

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