PLAYING FOR A LIFE.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume L, Issue 60, 29 August 1907, Page 4

PLAYING FOR A LIFE.

It was night in the camp of Maxmilian's army, aud sounds of merriment were heard upon all bides. In a tent in the inner circle of the camp s£t two officers at a rude table, upon which was marked with a lead pencil a draught-board, while black and white buttons served for "men."

They were prisoners—soldiers in the service of Juraez captured the day before—but their appearance indiS&ted that they were not Mexicans. A love of adventure had caused them to leave their homes in England and east their swords with Juarez to aid iu driving from Mexican soil a German Emperor.

Capoul Monteith, the light-haired officer, was a young man of wealth, and good family. • >

Garnet Weston, the brown-haired, was a young lawyer of good though poor parentage. He was fast winning a name when H- crossed the path of Mabel Monteith, the sister of Capoul. One day a pretended friend told him that Mabel was his promised wife, but that their engagement had not yet been macfc public. Three months later found him a cavalry captain in the army of Benito Juarez, where in a few weeks he was surprised to be joined by Capoul Monteith, who had also offered his services to the Mexican President.

Suddenly a heavy tread resounded without the tent, the sentinel challenged, there was a response, and three of Maximilian's officers entered, one of whom was an American, another a Frenchman, the third a Mexican. "Gentlemen," said the American, "I am sorry to disturb you, but news has come to-night that Benito Juarez has executed a captain of our army, and I [have orders to select one of you and march yoil forth to die in retaliation."

"You cannot mean that one of us must die for an offence against Maximilian by Juarez!" said Capoul Monteith, rising. "Such are my orders, but I know not which to select."

"Let the gentlemen play a game for the chance, the loser to die," suggested the young Frenchman. "A good Idea, monsieur. Gentlemen, I observe you were playing a game of draughts when we entered, so set to work to play three games, the one who wins two of them to escape, the other to die."

"When is the execution to be?" asked | Garnet. "Within the hour."

"Very well, Capoul, I am ready for the game of life or death." "I, too, am ready," said Monteith, and the two friends sat down.

Ten minutes passed, twenty, and the game was won by Capoul. The second game, too, was won by him.

"Great Heaven! Garnet! old fellow, I feel for you from the bottom of my heart!" cried the winner, the tears starting to his eyes. Garnfct pressed his friend's hand as he said qnietly: "X was ever a poor, unlucky dog, Capoul; but, my friend, when I am dead, look in my saddle roll, hanging there, and the papers you find please deliver to the proper address, and—and—Capoul, say to—to Miss Mabel I left a farewell for her. Gentlemen, Z am ready." >.;• Half-distracted with grief, Capoul Monteith paced his tent, his thoughts whirling and his brain on fire. An hour passed, and the American officer stood before him. "Well!" said Capoul.

"He is dead."

"Heaven have mercy upon him!" groaned the sorrowing friend. "Yes, Captain Monteith, he is dead, and, though I have seen many men die, I newer saw one face death with such perfectly calm indifference as did your friend. He gave the order to the platoon to fire and fell instantly, but ere he died ho wrote this note to you." And the American imperialist handed a slip of paper to Capoul, and, turning, left the tent. In Garnet's bold hand was written:

"I could have won those two games, but I gave my life away to save you, for I loved Mabel too dearly ever to let her brother die where I could lie sacrificed instead. I dare tell you this now, for I stand on the brink of my open grave. Farewell!"

Three years passed, and one pleasant .evening a horsemnn was riding slowly along a highway traversing a fertile English valley. Three years had added more dignity to the face, and perhaps saddened it, but otherwise no change had come over Capoul Monteith's fine features. Upon his right hand, setting back from the road, was a pretty farmhouse

surrounded by fertile fields, and the sight promising well for a night's "lodging for man and beast," Capoul turned in at the white gateway, rode up to the front door, and dismounted. The owner of the house descended the steps to greet him, and Capoul Ifonteith stood face to face with Garnet Weston. "Great Heaven, has the grave given up its dead?" cried Capoul, in dismay. "No, old fellow! You find me flesh and blood, ready and willing to give you a hearty welcome to this my home, left me by an old bachelor uncle a few months ago. But come in. I will tell you all." Around a well-spread table that evening he heard how Garnet had been carried forth to b? most bunglinglv executed, how a squadron of Juarez's cavalry had appeared and frightened off liis executioners ere the first platoon had retired, and how a watchful rancheru had seized him and borne him off to his ranch, where, after months of suffering, if recovered. "But, old fellow, why di you not write to me?" asked Capoul "I did write to my old law partner, and lie said you had moved away, no one knew whither." "True. Poor Mabel failed in health, and I took her to the Continent, but we goon returned. Mabel is contented, If not happy." "She married "

"She married? Fiddlesticks! No; she never had any idea of marrying any nlin excepting yourself, and you went off lo Mexico and nearly broke her heart."