HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Wingham Times, 1900-07-06, Page 7-lrJ J�w1)
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Ciopyrigitt, 1899, by Jeannette 11, Walwoetir.
00 retlring be had topped his bed-
room candle with the extinguisber and
had excluded every ray of light from
the moon flooded world by drawing
the heavy brocatelle curtains. His eye
1 balls were hot and swollen with the
1 tears that lay too deep to moisten his
dry lids.
In the first second of his startled
awakening he did not speculate upon
the dim light that pervaded his large
room briefly nor upon its gradual with
drawal. Ile was wide awake now and
self reproachful. He had fully meant
only to take a short, needful rest be,
' fore joining the watchers down stairs.
IIe had thrown himself upon his bed
half dressed. He lighted his candle
now and passed beyond the high
carved footboard. He would look once
more upon the dear; familiar face from
Which he had drawn strength and in,
splration all the days of bis short life.
Couscience smote him for a coward.
He had` purposely turned himself on
retiring so that he should not see even
the pointed tips of the easel that held
the portrait.
Death is very awe inspiring to the
young and the lusty. The revolt against
it is natural and strong. It is only as
we grow older and the prizes we have
failed to grasp show their tinsel side
that we . come to think of the great
Mower and his personal tittitude with
,a friendly tolerance born of a sense of
the Inevitable.
The boys at Andover college would
?cave stared and perhaps protested to
hear Tom Broxton called a coward.
Among his fellows he was esteemed
one who was not a provoker of quar-
rels, but quite incapable of quailing in
the face of danger.
And yet with his first glance toward
the easel that held his father's portrait
he recoiled with an audible cry of ter-
ror, but only for a second. Then he
advanced resolutely toward it. •
The easel was not as it had been When
he fell asleep. Drooping over the
broad, calm brow of the pictured face
L it beld was a bunch. of white cosmos
Sowers precariously clinging to the
frame of the portrait by a twisted stem
or two. Tom touched the Sowers with
a skeptic finger. Were they real or a
.part of his troubled fancy? They fell
to the floor at his touch, and from
.about the green stems a twisted paper
uncoiled in their descent. He stooped
arnd picked the paper up.
• Some one of his many kindly inten-
tioned friends bad stolen in with flow-
ers and more empty words of condo-
lence, be told himself, and held the pa-
per behind his candle. Again that low
suppressed cry of terror from the boy's
:startled lips!
Whoever had woven that • loosely
bound wreath of white cosmos, his
mother's favorite flower, with which to
- Crown his father's brow had wrapped
.about It a bit of his father's own hand -
Writing, a careless, heedless mistake.
Even as he pondered the mystery of
the cosmos he was greedily reading the
Contents of the paper.
' It was only a page of an unfinished
letter, but the date made it precious.
,The habits of a lifetime had held good
In the hour of extremity. His father
never failed to date. Only two nights
before that letter had been begun—and
ended—when' the pen bad dropped
from a nerveless hand. And yet, even
as he read, Tom was conscious of a
perplexing discrepancy. His guardian
had said no letter had been written to
him.
But thoughts of his guardian were
violently shoved aside. This letter,
unfinished, but priceless—where bad it
come from? . He read and reread it
standing there before his father's pic-
ture, unconsciously crushing the for-
gotten cosmos under his feet:
"My boy, soon to be my lonely boy,
the last of the Broxtons, I have prayed
very earnestly to be permitted to stay
until you reached my bedside, but the
sands are running out of my glass too
rapidly. Let me try to write what I
may not be permitted to say.
"My son, 1 am leaving you in a
perilous condition—young, unformed,
the possessor of accumulating wealth,
by no one uut yourself.
"I desire you Oa tee day of your ma-
jority to take the management of your
affairS into your own bands, subject,
of course, to advice from your ex -
guardian. You will owe it to yourself
to obtain a clear insight into the man-
agement of affairs during your minori-
ty. No honest steward will object to
this accounting. As for your guardian,
while I trust him iniplicitly-1"—
Tom turned the paper over Impa-
tiently. ,Surely there must be some-
thing more. Not an added syllable!
Wbere had this up.finished letter, so
precious and so all important, been
found? Who had conveyed it to his
bands?
Ile had himself searched every dra.VV-
er and every compartment of his fa-
ther's desk and found nothing. He had
questioned Mr. Matthews with queru-
lous insistence, only to be assured by
him that his father had left nothing
for him personally in writing, and yet
here, twisted ruthlessly about the
stems of flowers 'which came no elle
knew whence, were his father's last,
most precious utterances of advice and
He folded the piece of twisted paper
into proper shape and laid it away in
an inner pocket of his waistcoat.- The
flowers Which he had crushed under
his heels sent up a sickly fragrance. A
strong gust of wind set his cendle
edam. It guttered and died out sud-
denly, only to add to his sense of shud-
dering isolation. He could have cried
aloud for human colnpanionship, fot
the sound of a fellow creature's voice.
He bethought hitn of • the friendly
watchers down staire. .
On second thoughts he should not
like to face his father's faithful friends
with white lips •and trembling limbs.
He would quiet his nerves by spending
a few moments in his father's own
room. Amid its familiar surroundings
Ile could relight his candle and regain
its lost self control. He passed through
the connecting door into the larger
room so intimately associated with his
- beloved dead.
By the mantelshelf there used to be
always a supply of matches. That
same faint, reeeding radiance puzzled
him as he drew aside the curtains that
separated his own room .from his fa-
ther's. Some one must have left -a win-
dow open on the balcony. A cold puff
of outside air greeted and chilled hint
as he stepped over the threshold, but
by this time he had himself well in
hand. Ile found the matches and, re-
lighted his candle.
It was not his first visit to his fa-
ther's room. He had gone there
straightway on -his agonized home com-
ing. It was there he had wrestled with
the first sharp pangs of his bereave-
ment, kneeling by the bed and clamor-
ing piteously for one word of recogni-
tion from its pale and unresponsive
sleeper.
He had passed through It since when
it had looked decorously desolate, with
the cold, white, tenantless bed and its
handsome furnishings primly set to
4)
fusion.
"l! diger', fathet'i To think. that 1
should know fear in your presence—
Yon, who had such high scoria for cow.
ardice and cowards! I ani not worthy
to be called your soul"
A. volee: came to liirn in greeting from
the other endof the loug room. It.
was old Mr, Braddock, who had insist-
ed upon sitting tip with his old friend
Rufus. He shuffled toward the young
mourner now with a face groin 'which
every vestige of color had, Sed. Ile
nodded nervously toward. .his three
companions, who came In a. slow pro-
cession in his rear.
"These gentlemen and I have been
going over the premises, Wheaten, to:
see if tiny doors or windows had been
left open. It grew quite obilly sudden -
1y." The old: man tubbed his hands
nervously about each other.
"quite so,' the man nearest his. right
elbow echoed.
"We distinctly felt a cold puff of
airy" the man on his left added.
"Some window openon the veram,
da," Tbomas suggested.
"We have made a thorough Inspee-
tion. We find neither door nor window
left unbolted. But the house Is very
large and very drafty,"
"The library may have been over-
looked."
Tom glanced toward the 'heavy
chenille portieres that fell betweenthe
parlor and the library. On the other
side of them were the foldiug doors,
paneled with ground glass, which
gave the soft effectiveness of moonlight
when lights burned on the library side.
Emboldened by the manifest fears of
his companions, he drew the curtains
and fell backward with a low cry.
Then indignation smothered his fear.
"Some one in the library, standing at
my father's desk."
Ile essayed to slide the glass doors
backward into their sockets. They
would not yield.
"1 locked them myself from the li-
brary side," said 111r•. Braddock chat,
teringly. "1 did not want any one to
intrude here without our permission or
knowledge." He glanced toward the
casket.
"Then we must go around by the
middle parlor," said Tom curtly.
He led the way hurriedly. The older
men kept pace with him valiantly.
Withtheir own scandalized eyes they
had corroborated the boy's stained
announcement that his father's desk
was being tampered with.
A dim light showed through the
ground glass doors. A stooping figure
was nluiuls discernible in front. of the
large table in the center of the study,
the table at which Tom bad seen his
father sit through what seamed to his
childish fancy interminable hours of
pen work.
A smaller door to the study was
reached by the circuitous passage of
the drawing room suit. It yielded to
Tony's impatient touch upon its knob
and opened inward—upon a room wrap-.
ped in utter darkness!
"Have any of you matches?" he ask-
ed sharply.
Three ' matches were responsively
struck against as many boot heels, and
the room was soon well lighted.
Scattered in reckless confusion over
the open desk were papers that had
been hastily drawn out from the pi-
geouholes'for inspection, by whom and
for what purpose were the mysteries
that confronted Thomas and his
friends.
"This passes comprehension," said
old man Braddock, with •tremulous tit;
teranee and protuberant eyes. "The
study was in perfect order when I
locked that door on this side. Rufus
would tarn in bis coffin at such dis-
array. He was so very orderly."
"Sone one has been tampering with
my father's papers for purposes of his
own. Will yon help me search the
house for the miscreant, my friends?
I should like just to discover the place
of ingress and egress. After we have
fetmrl it we eau search the house in-
side thoroughly."
, An hour later' he stood alone on the
low flight of steps that led clown tato
his mother's flower garden. The first
-gray tints of dawn were resting pallid-
ly on the trees of the lawn and upon
the tangled riot of blossoms which
sweetened the cold chill air of early
morning. Baffled and humiliated, he
had left his companions in a futile
search to watch by the master of the
house while he wrestled alone with his
perplexity.
The circuit of Broxton Hall bad been
made carefully by the four men. Its
Iower expanse of broad veranda, pierc-
ed by numerous doors and windows as
capacious, had been found guiltless of
one derelict lock or bolt. Securely fas-
tened and uutampered with. each had
shown ttself intact. The upper story
of the rambling old mansion had re-
peated the same story—not the swing-
ing of a shutter nor the yawning of the
smallest door to adthit an intruderl
At the end of the search the mystery
of that crouching figure and disorder-
ed desk wits greater tlhan at Its begin-
ning
Weary of conjecture that only con-
fused, of suggestions that diel not'sug-
gest, Tem had withdrawn himself and
now stood drinking In great drafts or
fresh air. It cooled the hot feverish-
ness of his body and spirit. The
phautasies of the night seemed to quail
and shrivel before the pure, calm ma-
tinee of the morning star that still field
sway In the slowly flushing skies.
reaeo came to the boy's troubled
spirit as he stood there accepting heal-
ing at nature's beniguant hands. The
night just gone was one he should nev-
er forget, but it bad not put hint far-
ther away from that noble brewed
sleeper, from whose eilont lips had
seemed to fall a gentle rebuke for leis
craven nerves.
Then the sun rose above the horizon
In his chariot of crimson and gold, grid
a new day was fairly Installed, the
last (day for hint to be privileged to
rays to take their departure,.
Me 'he stood there alone On the broad
steps of the house, overlooking the
beautiful expanse of the Broxton lawn,
so he stood alono lu all the wide world,
not one creature to. cull kindred, Shull
wouder that bo clung svitli ravening.
tenderness to the silent sleeper in the
house behind his Me{,
Ile retraced his steps find re-entered
the room where• bie father lay. Ile
flung open the windows and tneved
resolutely toward the easkot, Tlie ut-
ter peaeefuitleSe, the majestic repose
of the sieepor. filled Iris soul with a
strange quietness..
At that nroment,ho remembered tbe
seal ring which his ,father had always
impressed upon the wax of his letters.
it was on his finger when he died. He
should like it for his very own, Ile
drew the white draperies from the
broad chest to secure the ring. In the
p 1!id clasped hands le single white
eusmos flower bad drooped to its death.
'rile seal ring was not upon his fa-
ther's grand, The flower bad not been
in his quiet clasp when they laid him
In the casket,
Who would unravel the knot of thls
twofold Mystery?
Ills mother's Bible tufts open,.
rights. On neither one of those pre-
vious visits had he observed the eon-
spicious object that now arrested his
attention immediately on entering thtt
His mother's Bible, the one out of
which he had read his Sunday's task,
an unwilling little rebel, many a weary
Sabbnth afternoon at Ids father's knee,
was propped upon the center table un-
der the dimly btireing radiattee of a
night taper. It was open. A single
blossom of white cosmos marked the
"Put not your trust in princes nor In
any son of man."
He did not reasoe. about the presence
of the 131ble, He did not cast a second
look at it. Whethet be wtiS to brand
himself everlastingly as a coward -did
not eost him one anxious thought. Ile
descended the long epiral stairs
divided hitt from liUMan compahlon-
ship with feet that seemed to have
suddenly grown old and very tired.
The distatice between him and the 11V.
Ing seemed to etretch out Inter:Mutt.
bly. Ile was tit one (rely with death
and mystery.
With cowering tisnect he crept into
. the long parlor Where his father lay in
toetly state. One look at the noble,
CHAPTER. IV.
Tun FIGURE IN MGM
Having nearly arrived at the mature
age of 16, Miss Olivia Matthews con-
eidered herself qualified to give her fa-
ther advice on all .ihatters of impor-
Tom Broxton was matter of impor-
trincs,, one which came up with Increas-
ing frequency and growing Importuni-
ty as his term at college rounded to its
On the subject of what was or what
was not best for Tom the small moni-
tor assumed large airs of gravity and
decorum which tempted one to smile
into her dimpled face. Not that she
would have countenanced such levity
for au instant. She took herself. in ber
relation as semiguardian to the last of
the Broxtons quite seriously., Ever
since that dismal day on which they
had laid the dear colonel to rest under
the weeping willows of the Mandeville
churchyard and brought Tom to stay
temporarily at the Matthews cottage
while "arrangements for his future"
were perfecting she had corn° to look
upon him as in some sense her personal
That had been four years ago. The
years have healing properties for the
young which they lose in later years.
A correspondence had been one of the
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and LAWN FENCING
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Special offers made Olio year on 1
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draniss
V ante
A Travelling
GENERAL AGENT'.
anNIMINIMMONIS
An experienced canvasser, or a man with good character
and address, with the necessary ability to travel from town,.
to town and appoint agents. No canvassing. Salary and exr..
penses paid.
Position permanent and promotion according to
The Bradiey-Garretson,
AliTifORD, ONT.,
Inevitable consequences of 011ie's self
elected guardiauship and Tons's crav-
ing for friendship.
Ills 11 months of senioeity. which
couuted for little on the calendar, were
entirely reversed in their social rela-
tions. In their letters be figured as
quite 11 years her junior. She never
forgot his birthday. It was always re,
membered by a gift chosen with a
view to a men's ever recurring demand
for neckties, gloves or the like and al-
ways sent accompanied by a neat lit-
tle 'homily on the approachine- Years of
responsibility, prettily indital on her
best society stationery:
Presh from the perusal of nn effusive
letter of thanks for the latest donation
of gloves and advice. Olivia sagely
-wrinkled her brows and looked ncross
the breakfast table at her Other.
"Just to think, papa. the dear boy Is
18 years old! I suppose he will be put-
ting on all the efts of a grown man
when he gets back. I can hear the
beating of restless wings in each letter
more distinctly. That is as it should
be. If I were a Man, I know should
strain at the leash violently long before
the college doors closed upon me."
Her metaphors were somewhat
mixed, but as she was preparing her
father's second cup of coffee with just
so much sugar plus so much cream
metaphor had to look out for itself.
The lawyer. deep in his own mail
matter, glanced up quickly, showing n
"Who is strainin,g at the leash, my
"011, that was just a figure of speech!
I was talking about Tom. I've got an
abeurdly grateful letter from him,
thanking me for his gloves. If I bad
Sent a shoestring, he would have WII.X-
ed just as eloqUent over it. Tom Is a
time will toue all that down."
She was consciouS of a very abetraet-
ed auditor.
Her father's head bad been lifted
juet so long as his hand had been ex•
tended for the cup of coffee. He was
(Mee more poring over his morning's
mail with knitted brows. Her innitese
cat, always disereetly observant of the
progress of the meel, gently reminded
her by. relvet pawed carees that 00
WaS waiting to be served. Her canary
bird, swinging In its gilded cage In the
sunny bow window, Shrilly motopo-
Heed the realm of sound.
father's absorptioe in letters
which properly belonged to his office
work Was at infringement of her most
cherished household regulation. She in-
terfered deseotically.
"Pepe, yOti know I regard tbe break-
fast heur as tny exclusive property.
Thu are breeking my rules."
The dark face opposite her wee lift-
ed. The light of a 'mighty love illumln-
' NI its gloomy oyes, Lawyer Mattliewe
pushed his letters from him in hetip
end smile&
"Yeti are right. my einem or henets,
as you tilwAys tire. I beg your pardon
foe my rude lunttetition. I am nil yours.
You were saying"—
"Nett:log very profoinui." She .smiled
with restored good immor, "I have
been wondering whnt we 'are going to
back to Mandeville foe good. He can't
live alone in that great barn of a
house. He wmad meet a ghost et
every turn. And be could not live here
Mandeville would chorus Improp.
or! Whnt on earth ean we do with
the poor boy,"
Twice during her reMeritS ber fa.
ctilin face within the ens se co
look upon his beloved's face. tie Was
ginel filet the unnerved watehere had
hug With it sense ot iittietiess Ana eon. thetnSelvee of the earhott ten
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