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Show 0neAngustNightm'6i. WlLKIfi Cor.UNS'a LAST PTORT P,OT. WKnTKS FROM HIS ORIGISAL SKLTVH. Copyrighted. All rights reserved. CHAPTER IV. 8H00IIX8 TEE SCTPOSED SPT. Should he drop to the ground ho fare the fire, would he not dimply prolong the ordeal and be Ojn to the accusation of cowardice? lie knev that it was owing to confidence in his braveyv that he was not bound and blindfolded. Ought he to flinch? Time and again through the night lai old Judee's vision come into hU mind. All the way from the guard bou.e to this spot the tap of the drums hud kept time with her words. "Marchin ninrchin' marchin'," Upon seeing Mr. ArrnyUige on the ground, with her saddled sad-dled horse close by, he had known of her riding to the place in accord with what the negross had professed to see in her second prophetic view. Now it flashed upon him that her third phantasm phan-tasm had depicted his fall before tfe muskets of soldiers. Was he to strive against a fate so manifestly foreordained? foreor-dained? Or, would his voluntary prostration, pros-tration, as directed by Tudor, satisfy the j prediction? These thoughts were almost j instantaneous. His mind was suddenly as clear as crystal, and his nerve and muscles tense and strong, "Aim!" commanded the captain. Mrs, Armytage ilid out of the arms of the men who bore her, and who had been detained by Tudor's words with the coloneL She opened her eyes and fl It " '- t ? , , "I can obtain it. You shall be paid tomorrow." to-morrow." . "What would be your to-morrow if this letter came to light? You'd be homeless, home-less, penniless, for Col. Armytage would turn you into the street, "We in the ranks know his hard side you don't," The sound of drums in the distance was heard. "They are coming; you must not be seen." "I will not go away," she said, firmlT. "Hide yourself, then." "No." The sergeant looked at her face, and saw by it that no entreaty or command of his would move her. His hope of advancement ad-vancement was fading away. The beating beat-ing of the drums came nearer and nearer; and even the measured tramp of feet was audible. In sheer desperation he caught hold of the horse's bridle. The spirited beast reared. The movement was quick and violent. Mrs. Armytage was thrown heavily to the ground. Tlie sergeant had only time to see that the smooth white of her forehead was flecked with red, and that she was unconscious, un-conscious, before the soldiers came conducting con-ducting Willett, His terror and dread were increasing as ho felt that death was close; but his face, aside from its whiteness white-ness and rigidity of resolute expression, did not disclose his mental agony. lie, with the rest, saw Mrs. Armytage lying on the ground. The blood was trickling over her face from a cut near her temple, and there was no sign of returning return-ing consciousness. He went to her so quickly that the soldiers thought it was an attempt to escape, and muskets were leveled at him in a twinkling, but no hindrance was made to his gently lifting her. She lay on his breast with her head on his shoulder, and his arms sustainingly around her an instant so, and then CoL Armytage was there, looking on in astonishment. as-tonishment. But the brief time had been sufficient for a strong effect on Oliver. Oli-ver. The helplessness of the unconscious woman; the face so close that he might have kissed the parted lips; the belief that she had como to tho place of execution execu-tion to savo him if she could those things aroused him out of the awful fear of death into which lie had been sinking and made his heart burn with heroic resolution. ' ' Col. Armytage stood mute at the sight of his wife in Oliver's arms, and, in a mistaken feeling of anger, he muttered a curse. Tho wound on her forehead, however, partly explained, and the sergeant ser-geant only added that she had been thrown from her horse. She was gently put on the ground again and a drummer was hurried off for water. It was only natural that the accident to Mrs. Armytage should seem, even to saw Oliver facing the ready muskets. She tried to scream, but could not make a sound. The colonel quickly grasped her, to turn her away from the scene that horritlod her so perceptibly. Oliver saw Jier fall in faint, and, even in that fateful moment, bo recalled that as a part of the third vision. "Fire!" Oliver fell on his face, so brief an in-stant in-stant before the rattle of the volley that the soldiers did not know ho was unhurt. un-hurt. Their attention, too, was start-lingly start-lingly diverted. Tudor and his eight companions sprang to the long box, flung off the cover and took out muskets. The amazed soldiers, with empty guns, found themselves confronted like magiu by those stalwart, armed foes, Tho first to stir j Oliver, who was quickly on his feet, alivo to the truth of the situation. The second was the sergeant, ser-geant, who was on hiiij with a drawn gword, suddenly and furiously. There was a brief wrestling struggle, and then tho sergeant was on the ground, with his own sword hsld by Oliver at bis breast. Then there was a bargain wordless and quirk, but binding. Tho sergeant bought his life with the letter that ho nad refused to sell to Mrs. Armytage. Army-tage. He pulled it from hi pocket and held it up. Oliver recognized it, and comprehended the offer. Ho clutched tho crumpled, scorched paper, and per- She opened her eye and au Oliver facing the ready muskets. The place selected for the execution of the death sentence on Oliver Willett was in a grove two miles from the town. The motive in the selection was to have tho spot as near as possible to the section inhabited in-habited by southern sympathizers, that the fate of the supposed spy might readily read-ily become known among them. The first of those directly interested in the event to arrive on the ground was Mrs. Armytage, She knew tho spot chosen, and she reached it by a detour on her fleet horse ahead of tho soldiers afoot. She sat still on her horse, and hearing tho birds iug, fell to marveling that they sang at such a dreadful time. Pleasant sounds seemed to her shamefully out of keeping with the occasion. She tried to devise a plan of action on behalf of her lover. One thing alone she had not confessed con-fessed to her husbandthat Oliver's love of her had been reciprocated by her. Should she publicly avow it? What good would it do? "You here', ma'am?" She turned and saw Sergt. Brickson. Ho was a soldier of the regular army, and had for several years been in her husband's hus-band's regiment, He continued: "You will be seen if you stay. The prisoner and the squad the firing squad, ma'am aren't more'n five minutes away. Your husband's coming too. I beg pardon, but I didn't suppose you wanted him to find you here." "I do not care," she said impassively. "Well, ma'am, you said at least I know young Willett's your lover, and I" "You are ready enough to ascribo the worst to my interest in him. I wish my husband would be as uncharitable." She was speaking meditatively, but seeing that her words punzled the sergeant, ser-geant, she added : "I would at this instant give all I possess for proof of what you are so ready to believe." "I can give it to you," and the sergeant displayed the letter that had drawn Oliver to the city, that had been partly burned and hidden, and that bo had given tho colonel, of small comparative consequence. conse-quence. The deliberate shooting of m human being was a horror that was not to be crowded out of minds by an event that at a time less fraught with thrilling interest, would have been exciting ia itKelf. Tho colonel dispatched a messenger for a physician, saw for himself that his wife's hurt was not ,'tery serious, and then turned to Oliver. "I would not have como here," liosaid iu a tone too low for anybody but Oliver to understand, "but that I wanted to give you a last opportunity to prove your innocence if you could. I will tako on isysslf tb.9 responsibility of dolaying this execution on your assurance that you are not a spy.," He pointed to the woman at their feet,' and continued: "Perhaps it is her persistent friendtjhip that moves mo to make this offer." Her friendship. Oliver knew it was mittod the sergeant to get up. Hero tho story of one August night ends w illil.he rescuers and the rescued starting for the near stream, where boata were ready for them, with the soldiers cowed and practically unarmed, gazing irresolutely at the retiring victors, and with Old Judee's reputation tut a prophetess proph-etess firmly established iu southwestern Missouri. Tho reader may believe that her foresight of tho marching Unionist, with Oliver as their prioiier, was a conceit con-ceit inspired by her war sympathies, for hIio might reasonably have wished for the capture of auy Confederate officer. Having thus diKpohcd rationally of that matter, it is easy to regard Mrs. Army-tagn'a Army-tagn'a ride as merely a circumstance caused by the prediction. But the third vision alleged by the woman that in which OUer full before the dincharge of musketry and Mrs. ArmytBg fuinled at the spectacle -well, it is left in this plain story for anybody to ascribe to either singular coincidence or veritable witchery, witch-ery, as ho pleases. TUB END. her love. His thoughts ran fast like those of a drowning man, leading him like a flash through his terror of death, through his adoration of her, through his following of her after she had forbidden for-bidden him, and so to his own promise. "I will sooner part with life than your secret." "You hesitate," said Col. Armytage. Mrs. Armytage uttered a low moaning -the first indication of returning consciousness. con-sciousness. "I must not hesitate!" Oliver excluimed, with some impetuousness of manner. "The cause that I serve will not permit me to waver in my duty." "Is there anything I can do for you no message I can bear to your family?' "My poor sister she will be left alone. Her heart will be broken. Where is she?" "The sad news was sent to her several hours ago." Oliver thought it was' strange, knowing know-ing her strength of resolution and love, that she did not come to bid him farewell. fare-well. He gave to Col. Armytage a good-by good-by message for her, and the two men shook hands. Preparations for the killing of Oliver Willett were swift and simple. Much of the celerity was due to the sergeant, who glanced often uneasily at Mrs. Armytage, fearing she would become conscious before the deadly volley had been fired. The twenty musket bearers were ranged, and Oliver was made to stand in readiness. He requested to face the executioners, with eyesunbandaged, and was indulged. At the samo lime, under Col. Arrnytage's direction, Mrs. Armytage was lifted by two of the drummers to be carried a short distance away. The colonel was glad of a reason for avoiding tho death sight, and the excuse ex-cuse was good, for his wife was taut coming to consciousness. He had barely turned his back, however, before he heard a new voice, that of Tudor Bowne, who did not go to Oliver at first, but addressed ad-dressed Col, Armytage. to Maj. Dimmock. He held it up so that Mrs. Armytage could see it, and asked, "Isn't this your letter to your lover?" "Yes, yes,'! she eagerly answered.' "How did you get it?" "I got it where he hid it after ho had tried to burn it." "Give it to me." She reached for it, but he drew it away. "Excuse me, ma'am, I'm a man that sees an unexpected chance before him to rise in the world. I did a service for you last night, and you're under promise to pay me to pay me with a promotion iu the army. I let you get to the prisoner, who was in my charge, and you agreed to have your husband make a captain of me." "And I will keep my promise." "I've got no right to doubt you, ma'am; but a man's first duty's to look out for his own interest. ' . That mayn't be Scripture, Scrip-ture, but it's sense. To put it plain," and here he : rested his hand on his horse's mane, and went closer to her, "it seems to me as if this letter's a kind of a written nota, payable on demand-payable demand-payable in promotion on demand. Of course I don't understand it all, but I do know this is a love letter from Col. Ar-mytage's Ar-mytage's wife to this young man that's going to be shot. Before I got it I had your bare word that I'd be made a captain. cap-tain. Now I hold something that'll compel com-pel you to keep your promise." "Sergeant, hear me." There was not a trace of discomposure in her manner, but her brilliant eyes seemed to the soldier sol-dier to be blazing at him. "You reason shrewdly, yet you are at fault. You think I dread your showing that letter to my husband. You are mistaken. If I had it, I would put it in his hands myself. my-self. . The man they are going to shoot is not a spy. Ho came to meet me, and he is going to die because he has suppressed sup-pressed this evidence. That letter is proof of ti e truth, and I would use it if I could, for his salvation and my destruction." "I come to ask n favor," lie said. "Friends of Oliver desire to secure hi body. They await your permission." "You have permission.". Tudor waved his bat as a signal to eight men to approach from where at a distance dis-tance of a hundred yards they had stopped. stop-ped. Then he went to Oliver, grasped hi hands and said: "Good-by, old friend:'' i In a whisper he continued: "Heed what I say, Oliver; your life depends on it. When the command is given to fire drop instantly to the ground. Stand firm when you hear the order, 'Make ready;' don't ; stir at the command, 'Aim;' but fall flat : on the ground just before the word 'fire. Don't fail." ' The eight men walked into the field. They carried a long, rough box, which they sat down close by. Oliver look at it and shuddered as he saw that it was a ! ! coffin. f j "Are these men unarmed?" the captain i j in command asked. j I "Search them," Tudor suggested. j TheofJicergavetbecommand,"Keadyr j and the muskets were leveled. f "Remember ray parting words, Oliver!" Tudor sh-juted. Oliver was like a alone in immovabili- i ty, and almost as devoid of sensation, j He thought, but not very clearly, that j Tudor had resorted to a device to p hire coiiratre though a f!5. h-p. j "Your destruction?" "Yes; but what of that?" "I'll tell you what of it, ma'am, as far's it concerns me." The sergeant had been dumfounded at first by her avowal, but he had, nevertheless, comprehended the new bearing of the letter. "If your husband discarded you, how could you pay me what you owe me? Where'd be your power to have me promoted?" She still sat calmly on her horse, but her eyes were so burning in their gaze that the sergeant no longer dared to meet them. "Will you let an innocent man be shot when you can save him?" she asked. "He deserves it, doesn't her' and the sergeant's lack of confidence in his argument argu-ment was shown by his retreating a step. "It's not far me to go betwixt him and his resolution." j "Give nie the letter, I implore. You see that it will give you no power over me, for I only desire to make it public." "You do now, ma'am," and the sergeant's ser-geant's tone gained boldness as his argu- ; inent grew logical; "but you will not ; after your lover is dead when r.o good to him could come of your disgrace. Then it will be worth to me" 'How much? Xante the sum aud I will pay it." "You haven't euouyh uiowy with you, |