Was he dreaming? was it a mockery or a delusion that he saw Rose there—not dead—not even dying; but with her eyes seeking for him—blood already mantling in her pale cheek? And he learned that the blow of the felon's tulwar had—though cutting her tender forehead—only stunned her, for the hand of Macgregor had caused the blade to turn in his grasp!
Some bright beams often fall from the gloomiest sky. So husband and wife had met again, and—after all they had undergone—survived to spend the coming Christmas at home in old England, and to hear the merry chimes in their peaceful Kentish village ring out upon the frosty air the message of Peace and Goodwill to All.
THE STORY
OF
LIEUTENANT JAMES MOODY
OF
BARTON'S REGIMENT.