Page:The Granite Monthly Volume 6.djvu/404

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366
THE GRANITE MONTHLY.

They did just what the police of a city would do. They searched his pockets and advertised in the newspapers the information they obtained.

"A week passed. The stranger's reason and strength were restored. He, however, kept the secret of his identity; thanked the good people who had befriended him, and promised that as soon as possible he would tender them pecuniary remuneration. They understood, of course, that because of the trouble and loss that had come upon him, it was impossible for him to make immediate payment. Well, he was about to depart—being ignorant of the advertisement—when a handsome young woman appeared upon the scene.

"Then I laughed; laughed as never before. The secret which he had stubbornly withheld from me for five years was now as plain as the profile of the 'Old Man of the Mountain.' It was a love affair! In such matters I am exceedingly modest, and would not, if I could, repeat the fine speeches I overheard. I will, therefore, come down to hard, dry facts. His name was Paul Pyne. At the breaking out of the civil war he left college, and with commendable patriotism shouldered a musket in the federal army. He fought in many battles, was twice wounded, and several times promoted for gallant and meritorious conduct—so the young woman told the landlady of the hotel where they tarried a day or two. On his return from the front he brought with him the manners and methods of government which were incidental to camp life, and, as a natural consequence, the lady had chafed under his peremptory commands, until, in a moment of anger, she had declared that she never desired to look upon his face again; and he had replied that he would take good care that she did not. He fled to the woods, and for a time she domiciled herself in seclusion. He held steadily to his temper and purpose, and she, after a few months, weakened. But I need not go into particulars. All that need be said is:

"They were penitent when they met at the village hotel, and quite content to amicably adjust their little differences and promise mutual forbearance for the future. In a word, they talked and acted for all the world like people whom you read of in romances but never hear of in every-day life. Well—for I have come abruptly to the end of the story—Paul returned to the site of his camp, gathered up such of his property as had not been destroyed, and, rejoining Miss Houghton, the twain—now one with two children—they visited me a short time ago—journeyed to their friends and became active participants in the battle of life. It is the old story of 'all is well that ends well.'"

The brook ceased to murmur, and presently a sound as of a boat being drawn upon the sandy shore, aroused me to a consciousness of the situation. The merry voice of my companion fell upon my ear: "Dreaming, as usual!" he exclaimed. And, without pausing to consider, I answered, "Yes, dreaming as usual." That night we slept soundly upon some hemlock boughs, under our overturned boat, and the next day retraced our wanderings to the busy haunts of man and resumed our callings.