ste upon
my lips. I sat erect. Helen, with her arm still around my neck, drank
what remained in the can. Then she looked me full in the face. There was
a new expression in the lovely eyes; the old vague, calm look had gone.
A deep flush was on her brow as she spoke:

"'Arthur,' she said, and there was a tremor in the rich, deep voice.
'Arthur, my memory has come back. No, do not speak, but hear me. The
past all returned the night after that awful day when we buried those
dead bodies in the sea. I now remember and understand all that you and
the dear doctor said to me. I remember our parting in England; I
remember John Bruce; I remember why I set out for India so suddenly. I
heard that he was wounded. I thought duty called me. For I did not love
him, Arthur. How could I? I had not seen him since we were children, and
our fathers betrothed us. But, Arthur, a higher power than hate or love
has given us to each other, and I can tell you, dear, that I love you.
Oh, I love you! My darling; my noble, faithful darling! Oh, Arthur,
Arthur!'

"She threw herself upon my breast with burning face and streaming eyes.
The blood leaped through my veins. She raised her sweet face and our
lips met for the first time.

"There was an awful crash, and our freed spirits took their happy flight
together. We had drank from the can that had contained Uncle John's
explosive. A little of the powder had clung to the can, floated on the
water, and adhered to our lips when we drank. The impact of that first
ecstatic kiss had exploded the compound and our heads were blown from
our shoulders. That's all. Good-by."

THE BUSHWHACKER'S GRATITUDE.

BY KIRKE MUNROE.

As we sat over our after-dinner coffee and cigars in the major's cosy
library, one evening last winter, I discovered my host to be in a
reminiscent mood, and ventured to ask him a question that I had
frequently meditated. He smiled and was silent for a moment before
answering.

"Yes, I have, as you suggest, experienced a number of what may be termed
adventures since entering Uncle Sam's service. Of them all, however, I
have no difficulty in recalling one that stands out pre-eminently as the
most thrilling experience of my life;" and then he gave this narrative:

"Shortly after the close of the war, I was ordered to a remote section
of the South, not far from the Gulf coast, to investigate certain claims
against the Government that involved what, for that part of the country,