eh ee ea AMER Sy ph am Ie

_ and knew they were at supper.

   

Ay HERO.

hardly any one left in town but old men, women
and children.

Mrs. Heath thought of this as she soothed Dor-
othy, coaxed her to eat a little supper, and then sat
by her side until she fell asleep. She sat by the
fire while the embers died out, or walked up and
down the long, lonely kitchen, wrestling, like Jacob,
in prayer, for her boy, until long after midnight.

And now let us follow Arthur’s fortunes. The
men galloped hard and long over hills, through
valleys and woods, so far away it seemed to the
little fellow he could never possibly see mamma
or Dorothy again. At last they drew up at a large
white house, evidently the headquarters of the offi-
cers, and Arthur was put at once into a dark closet
and there left. He was tired and dreadfully hungry,
so hungry that he could think of hardly anything
else. He heard the rattling of china and glasses,
By and by a servant
came and took him into the supper room. His eyes
were so dazzled at first by the change from the dark
closet to the well-lighted room, that he could scarcely
see. But when the daze cleared he found himself
standing near the head of the table, where sat a
stout man with a red face, a fierce mustache, and
an evil pair of eyes. ‘

He looked at Arthur a moment. Then he poured
out a glass of wine and. pushed it towards him:
“Drink !”

But Arthur did not touch the glass.

“Drink, I say,” he repeated impatiently.
you hear?”

“J have promised mamma never to drink wine, "
was the low response. >

It seemed to poor Arthur as though everything had
combined against him. It was bad enough to have
to say no to the question about the uniform, and
now here was something else that would make the
men still more angry with him. But the officer did
not push his command; he simply thrust the glass
one side and said, “Now, my boy, we’re going to
get that American spy and hang him. You know
where he is and you’ve got to tell us, or it will be
the worse for you. Do you want to see your mother
again?”

Arthur did not answer.
answered just then.
throat. Cry?
silence.

“Obstinate little pig! speak!” thundered the offi-

&“ Do

He could not have
A big bunch came into his
Not before these men. So he kept

I2I

cer, bringing his great brawny fist down upon the
table with a blow that set the glasses dancing.
“Will you tell me where that spy is?”

“No, sir,” came in very low, but very firm tones,
I will not tell you the dreadful words of that officer,
as he turned to his servant with the command, “Put
him down cellar, and we’ll see to him in the morning.
They’re all alike, men, women and children. Rebel-
lion in the very blood. The only way to finish it is
to spill it without mercy.”

Now. there was one thing that Arthur, brave as he
was, feared, and that was—rats! Left on a heap
of dry straw, he began to wonder if there were rats
there. Presently he was sure he heard something
move, but he was quickly reassured by the touch
of soft, warm fur on his hand, and the sound of
a melodious “pur-r.” The friendly kitty, glad of
a companion, curled herself by his side. What
comfort she brought to the lonely little fellow!
He lay down beside her, and saying his Our Father,
and Wow J /ay me, was soon in a profound sleep, the
purring little kitty nestling close.

The sounds of revelry in the rooms above did not
disturb him. The boisterous songs and laughter,
the stamping of many feet, continued far into the
night. At last they ceased; and when everything
had been for a long timesilent, the door leading
to the cellar was softly opened and a lady came
down the stairway. I have often wished that I
might paint her as she looked coming down those
stairs. Arthur was afterwards my great-grandfather,
you know, and he told me this story when I was a
young girl in my teens. He told me how lovely
this lady was.

Her gown was of some rich stuff that shimmered
in the light of the candle she carried, and rustled
musically as she walked. There was a flash of
jewels at her throat and on her hands. She had
wrapped a crimson mantle about her head and
shoulders. Her eyes were like stars on a summer’s
night, sparkling with a veiled radiance, and as she
stood and looked down upon the sleeping boy, a
smile, sweet, but full of a profound sadness, played
upon her lips. ‘Then a determined look came into her
bright eyes.

He stirred in his sleep, laughed out, said “mamma,”
and then opened his eyes. She stooped and touched
his lips with her finger. “Hush! Speak only in a
whisper. Eat this, and then I will take you to your
mother.”