Twenty Two

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Two centuries ago, the military post at Fort Union in wild New Mexico was the only spot for miles around where any kind of social life could be found.

The young sister-in-law of a captain enjoyed the attention young officers paid to her, flirting, dancing and enjoying her position as one of the few single young ladies in camp. A lieutenant fell for her, and hoped he might win her hand, but was put in command of a patrol to fight an Apache force nearby.

Before he left, he confided his love to the lady, who promised that if he were not to return she would never marry another. In a few days the detachment came back but the lieutenant was missing.

His bride-to-be seemed to forget him quickly, and nobody was surprised when she soon announced her marriage to a wealthy young man from New York. As the wedding dance was in full swing, a door flew open with a crash and a cry echoed through the place. All eyes turned to the door. In it stood a man in a blood-stained officer's uniform, his head marked by a hatchet-gash, his scalp gone, his eyes burning with a terrible light. The officer drew her from the arms of her husband, who stood frozen as in a trance, and, clasping her to him, began a waltz. The could spun around and around, the girl growing paler and paler, until at last her fallen jaw and staring eyes declared that the life had been drained from her body. The soldier let her sink to the floor and stood over her, wringing his hands and moaning, before vanishing through the door whence he came.

The following day, a troop of soldiers visited the scene of the Apache encounter and returned with the body of the missing lieutenant. He'd been dead for three months

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