HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Wingham Times, 1888-11-16, Page 2l: t
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leaYL'ffJ1iRy.y,
NON . 16, Wan,
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OR
..e. NSMINIE. and SHADE,
PTER XX[X.--^••(CONrx\Unn,)
milked opened her eyes with an
seta saw him standing there, as
''libelled, by the window. She
not get up and come any nearer
red of the wore, but, raising her
she saw from where she sat, or
- ' a crouched, that the poplar stood
sae living mass of rampant flame,
lug beacon, from top to bottam,
petroleum, ignited and raised to
ng point by the fire which the
tion coil had drawn down from
'en, gave off its blazing vapour in
rolling sheets and forked tongues
tine, which licked up the crackling
.hes of the dry old tree from base
ennnit like so much touohwood.
poplar rose now one solid column
•inasan. The red glow deepeued
videnecl from moment to moment.
a.:, the drenching rain that followed
elittnder-clap seemed powerless to
it that frantic onslaught. The
euped and danced through the
hirai;;ht, boughs with mad exulta-
a hissing out its defiance to the big
ad drops which burst off into tiny
of steam before they could roach
red hot trunk and snapping
••rhes. Even left to itself, the
far, once ignited, would have burnt
ae ground with startling rapidity
,:s core was dry and light as tinder,
wood was eaten through by innumer-
• worm Boles and the hollow centre
mouldering dry -root, where children
loved to play at hide'and seek,
el now like a roaring chimney flue t
I the fierce draught that carried up
circling eddies of smoke and
ae in mad career to topmost branches.
. the fumes of the petroleum,
tared instantly gaseous by the
aerie heat, made the work of
•
;radian ;stili more instantaneous
• -ihle, and complete than it would
'` ye proved if left to unaided nature.
:..^ very atmosphere revolved itself
'0 one rolling pil1iar of fluid flame.
e tree seemed enveloped in shroud
se fire. All human effort must be
. verless to resist it. The poplar
::solved almost as if by magic with
vild rapidity into its prime elements,
A. man must be a man come, what'
.. ay. 'Hugh leaped towards the
• endow and flung it open widely. 'T
,east go!' he cried. 'Ring the bell for
e servants.' The savage glee in his
ice was well repressed, Isis enemy
• ;s low, laid prone at his feet, but he
-old at least pretend to some spark
magnanimity. ' We must get out
A hosed' he exclaimed. ' We must
to save it!' Winifred clung to his
° n in horror. 'Let it baro down,
rib!' she cried. 'Who cares for the
e. plar?l I'd sooner ten thousand
-olars bnrned to the ground than that
at should venture out on such an
• .•Oning.
Her hand on his arm thrilled
'nn through with horror. Her words
:stung hirci with a sense of his, inertn-
ess. Something very, like a touch
•.:f remorse came over his spirit. He
Stooped down and kissed her tenderly.
Abe next flash struck over towards
.,e sandhills. The thunder was, roll-
ing gradually seaward.
Hugh slept but little that eventful
:sight; bis mind addressed itself with
reverfelt eagerness to so lathy herd
and doubtful questions. He tossed
and turned and asked himself ten
thousand times over—was' the tree
burnt through—burnt down to the
ground? Were the roots and the
trunk consumed beyond hope—or
rather beyond fear—of ultimate
recoveryl Was the hateful poplar
really done fore Would any trace
remain of the barrels that had held
the telltale petroleum? any relic be
lift of the Euiitnkorff Induction Uoi14
What jot or tittle ofetlie evidence of.
design wonid now survive to betray
and convict Mw? What ground for.
reasonable suspicion woald Winifred
sea that the fire was not wholly the
result of accident?
But when next morning's light
i aweed and the hula arose upon the
seen° of conflageratton, Hugh saw at
rt. glance that all his fears had indeed
boon who ly end utterly groundless.
'.1'nn poplar wus as though it had never
existed. A baro black paten by the
mouth of tee Char, covered with ash
and dust tont tinder, alone Marked
the spot schen the famous tree had
Nice stood. The very roots were
aurned deep into the ground. The coir
pet We tan hal done its duty bravely. ind
Nurt} t -vent dc,aligil souks be observed in 0
anywhere, The Itubmkorff Induction
I
Coil had melted into air. Nobody
ever so much as drearnecl that human
laandicraaf t had art or part in the
burning of the Whitestraud poplar.
The 'Times' gave it a line of passing
regret; and the Trinity House ctelected
it with pains es a Jost landmark frow
their setting directions.
Hugh set Ms workmen instantly to
stub up the, roots. And Winifred,
gazing mournfully next day at the
ruins, observed. with a sigh : 'You
never liked the old tree, Hugh: and
it seems as if fate had iuterposed in
your favour to destroy it. I'm sorry
it's gone ; but I'd sacrifice a hautured
such trees any day as kind to nae as
you were Last evening.'
The saying smote Hugl's heart sore.
He played nervously with the button
of his coat. 'I wish you could have
kept it Winnie,' he said not unkindly.
But it's not my fault.—And I boar
no malice. I'll even forgive you for
telling me I'd never make a poet ;
though that, you'll admit, was a hard
saying. I think nay child, if you don't
mind, I'll ask IIatherly down next
week to visit us,—There's nothing like
adverse opinion to improveone'e, work.
Hatherley's opinion is more than
adverse. I'd like his criticism on A
Life's .Philosophy before I rush into
print at last with the greatest and
deepest work of my lifetime.
That sanx, evening, as it was grow-
ing dusk, Warren Rolf and Potts,
navigating the Mud Turtle around by
sea from Yarniouth Roads, put in „for
the night to the Char au Whitestrand.
They meant to Ile by fora Send at, inthe
estuary, and to walk across the fields,
if the day proved tine, to service at
Snade. As they approached the month
they looked about in vain for the
familiar landmark, At first they could
hardly believe their eyes : to men who
knew the east coast well, the disappear.
ance of the Whitestrand poplar from
he world seemed almost incredible
as the sudden removal of the Bass
.hock or the Pillars of Hercules,
Nobody would ever dream of cutting
down that glory of Suffock, that
time-honoured seamark. But as they
strained their eyes through the deepen-
ing gloom, the stern logic of facts left
them at last no further ;:cont for
syllogistic, reasoning or a priori seep -
deism. The Whitestrand poplar was
really gone, Not a stump even
remained as its relic or its monument.
They drove the yawl close . under
the shore. The. current was setting
out stronger than ever, and eddying
back against the base of the roots with
a fierce and eager swiriipg movement,
Warren Relf looked over the bank in
doubt at the charred and blackened
soil beside it. He knew in a second
exactly what had bappened. ' Massin-
ger has burned down the poplar,Potts,'
he cried aloud. He did not add,
'because it stood upon the very spot
where Elsie Uiaalloner threw herself
over.' ,.But he knew it was so. They
turned the yawl up stream once more.
Then Warren Relf murmured in a low
voice, more than half to himself, but
in solenan accents : ' So much the
worse in the end for Whitestrand.'
All the way up to the 'Fisherman's
Rest' .he repeated again and again
below his breath : ' So ninth the worse
in the end for Whitestrand.'
CHAPTER XXX. — Tien - BARD I?r
Het -tunes.
'I never felt more astonished in my
Iife,' }fatherly remarked one day some
weeks later to a chosen circle at the
Cheyne Low Club, 'than 1 felt on the
very first morning of my visit to
Whitestrand. Talk about being driv-
en by a lady, indeed ! Why, that fail
little woman's got the Bard in har-
ness, as right and as, tight as if' he
were &respectable cheesewonger, It's
too surprising, The 73ard's•done for.
His life is finished. There the man
stops. The husband and father may
ora; out a wretched domestic exist.
nee yet for another twenty years,.
But the Man is dead, hopelessly dead.
Julius Caesar himself's not more utter-
ly defunct. That girl has extinguish-
ed him.
'Are there any children, then I' cne
of the chosen circle put in casually.
'Children. 1 No. There was a child
horn just after old Mrs, iileysey'i
death, I believe; but it died, and left
the mother a poor wreck, her own
miserable faded photograph. She was
a nice little girl enough, in her small
way, when she was here in town;
amusing nand sprightly; but the Bard.
has done for her, as she's done for the
Lard. The fact is, this is a case of
incompatibility of disposition. You
can't stop three days at Whitestrand
without feeling there's a skeleton in
the house somewhere 1
The skeleton in the house, enrefully
fined to its native Cupboard, hed
eed begun to perambulate the ]fall
pen daylight during the brief period
of llatherley's visit. Ho reached the
newely remodelled house just in tivao
to dress for dinner, When he dte-
seended to the ill-Ii;htecl drawing
room, five aninutee late—Whieestrenct
could boast no native gas -supply, and
candles are expensiv^e—lie gave his
arae with a sense of solemn obligation
to poor dark•olad Winifred. Mrs,
Messinger was indeed altered --sadly
altered. Three painful losses in quick
succession had told upon that slender
pale young wife. She showed her
paleness in her deep dark dress : colors
suited Winifred : in mourning she was suddenly halted with a short sharp
hardly even pretty. The little Far- whistle at a turn of the path.
rangement in pink and white, had 'Whew 1' he cried ; why, what the
faded almost into white alone ; the dickens is this R The poplar's disap
pinkness had proved a fleeting pig- geared --at least,.its place, I mean.
tent ; she Was not warranted fast 'Ali, yes t Mrs. Messinger told me
colours: But Hather]y did his beet all about that unlucky poplar when
with innate gallantry not to notice the you were gone last night' Hatherley
change. Fresh from town, crammed answered cheerfully. night,'
only good
with the last good things of the Oheyne °object in the view, she said—and I can
Row and Mrs. Bouveris Barton's Wed- easily believe her, to judge by the re-
nesday evenings, lie tried hard with' •mainder. It got struck by lightning
conscientious efforts to keep the Coca -'one stormy night, and disappeared
versation from flagging visibly. At then and there entirely !'
first he succeeded with creditable skill; 'This
and Hugh, looking across. at his wife gis nstrange—very om strange !'
with a curious smile, said in a tone of Hugh went on to himself, never genuineheed-
pleasure : 'How delightful it ing the babbling interruption. late,
after all, sure: r', to het a lxolcl o£ sands, collected on this side of late.,
somebody, al pireet from the real live There's a distinct hie nmook here,: like
world of London, in ftherom
midst of our the ones at Grimes's;--I wonder what
fossilised antedeluvian Whitestrand so- on earth- these waves and tnonnd• of
eiety ! I declare, Hatlierlq, it does .sand can mean ase -The wind's not
one's heart good, like champagne, to tosotst t 2ttack able side of the•river,
listen to you. A breath of Bohe'saiaa ,
Ali, Ssuarre,, a man at work in the
ice: �rorrekttc
tude ; and since I came into the estate
myself, to tell you the truth, .1 can't
forgive the beasely sands, even though
they hapl'pax to be called .1Jaolian.
They walked along in silence For a
while, eaeh absorbed in Iris own
thoughts---]laatherley ruminating upon
this melancholy spectacle of a degen.
erste son of deur old Oheyne Row
gone wrong for ever . Messinger re -
fleeting in his own mind upon the
closer insight into the facts of life
which property, with its cares and re-
sponsibility, gives one—when lie
blows across Suffolk the moment you field put in, coming. up to join them,
arrive. t Poor drowsy, somnolent, pet- and leaning upon his pitohfork_,shim
rifled Suffolk ! Silly Suffolk,' .even ,
the aborigines themselves call it. lt's 'glad you veThat'sj come to see it b e, The
catching, too. I'in almost beginning sand's : tit est what said to Tom,
to fall asleep myself, by force .of ex- the night the thunderbolt took th'owd
ample. poplar --ah said • 'Torn,' says a 1 'th £
At the words, Winifred fired up in there•poplar was they only bar• as
defence of her native country. 'I'm stooped the river an' the stand from
sure, Hugh,' she said with some as- shifting. It's shifted all along till it's
perity, 'I don't know why you're al- reauhod the poplar ;. an' naow it'll
ways trying to run down Suffolk ! If shift an' shift an' shift till it gets to
you did'nt like as, you should have Lowestoft or mayhap to Norwich.—
avoided the shire; you should have car- An' if yo'lI ook Spuoire, t'o'll see• for
ried your respected presence elsewhere. yourself—the river's aeshally rennin'
Suffolk never invited you to honor it zackly where the tree had used to
with your suffrages. You came and stand ; an' the sand's a-driftin' au' a'
settled here of your own free will. driftin', same as it allays drift down
And who could be nicer or more oul- yonner at Grimes's. An' it's my
tivated, if it comes to that. than some belief it'll never stop till it's swallowed
of our Suffolk aborigines, as you call up the Hall and the whole o' White,
them i Dear old. Mrs, Walpole at the strand.
vicarage, for example. Hugh Massinger gazed in silence at
Hugh balanced an olive on the end the spot where the Whitestrand poplar
of his fork. 'What's Ilecuba to • me, had once stood with an utter feeling
or I to Hecuba . •tier latest dates are of sinking helplessness taking posses-
abotl,t the period of the seige of Troy, sion at once of his heart end bosom,
or, to be more precisely accurate, the A single glance told him beyond doubt
year 1850.—My dear liatilerly, when the roan was right. The poplar had
you tome down, I feel .like tz man who stood as the one frail barrier to the
has breathed fresh air on some mnoun' winds and waves of the GermanOcean.
taint—stimulated and invigorated. You He had burnt, it down, by wile and
palpitate with actuality. Down here guile, of deliberate intent, that night
we stagnate in the seventeenth den- of the thunderstorm to get rid of the
tury. • single mute witness to Elsie's suicide,
Winifred bit laer'°Jip with vexation, And now, his Nemesis had worked
but said noticing. It was evident the itself out, The sea was •advancim ,
subject was an unpleasant one to her. inch by inch, with irresistible march,
But rhe at least would not trot out the aniest doomed Whitestrand,
skeleto n. morninh Hugh showed Via_ inch by inch ! Nay, yard by•yaard.
therley round the Whitestrand estate, Gazing across to the opposite bank,
and roughhly measuring the distance
Ilatherley himself was not, to say the with bis eye, Hugh saw the river had
truth, in. tbe best of humours. Mrs. been diverted northward many feet.
Messinger was dull and not what the sines be last visited the site of the
used to be : she obviously resented his poplar. Ile always avoided haat hateful
bright London gossip,' as throwing spot; the very interval that hail
into stronger and clearer relief the in- elapsed since his last visit enabled him
nate stupidity of her ancestral Suffolk. all the better to gunge at sight the
The breakfast was bad : the coffee distance the river had advaxieed
sloppy ; and the dishes suggested too meanwhile in, its invasion.
obvious reminiscenses of the joints ' I must get an engineer to comae
and entrees at last night's dinner. down and see to this,' he said shortly.
Clearly, the Massingers were strum- a We must put up a breakwater our:
ling hard to keep up appearances on selves, I suppose, since a supine
'an insufficient income. They were; administration refuses to help us. I
stretching their means much too thin. wonder who's the proper man to go to
The Morris drawing room was all very for breakwaters? I'd wire to town
well in its way,ofcourse: but tulip patt- tonight, if I knew whom to wire to,
ern �ourteins and De Morgan pottery and check the thing before it runs any
dont quite make up for et a echau ee of farther,'
kidneys, Hatherley was an epicure,' ' What's that Swinburne says 4'
like most club bred men, and his eon. 'fatherly asked musingly, ' 1. forget
verse for the day took a colour from the exact run of the particular lines,
the breakfast table for good or for but they ocour somewhere in the Hymn
evil. So be started out that morning to Proserpina
in a dormant ill humour, prepared to Will ye bridle the deep sea with rein? will
tease and draw M•assinger, who had ye chasten the high sea with rode?
had the bad taste to desert Bohemia Will ye take her to chain her with ,chains
for dull respectability and ill -paid who is older than all, ye gods?
Sgniredoan in the wilds of Suffolk, I don't expect, my dear boy, your
Hugh showed hint first the region of engineer will do much for you. Klan's
the sandhills, The sandhills were 'a but a pigmy before these natural
decent bit to begin with. '1,Eolian powers. A breakwater's helpless
sands I Hatherley murntereei eontem. Against the ceaseless dashing of the
platively as Hugh mentioned the eternal sea.'
name. 'How very pretty 1 How very Hugh Messinger almost Jost his
poetical ! You eon hardly regret it
yourself, Messinger, this overwhelming
of your salt marshes by the shifting
sands, when you reflect at leisure it
was really done by anything with se
sweet an epithet as .olian.
'I thought so oiiee,' Iiugh answered
dryly, with obvious distaste, 'when it
temper --especially when he reflected
with bitter self-abasement that those fu
were the verylines be had quoted I
q o d to state
1:1sie—in hie foolish .pre -territorial law
days—about Mr. Meyso's sensibl f a
y e) toeve
proposals for obtaitiing an itajunetionl rima
against the German Ocean. ' Eternal l Mnje
sea 1 Eternal fiddlesticks t' he an. i leer t
as a, sxarerrnewts,.ir etee .c s -e,
And a breakwater'll run into a pot of
money.`
'Pty the, old tree ever gest burnt +-
clown, unyhev, t begin es Min Halo
c:riey uatlrsnnre'low, enrleevorint;,
now he had fair drawn hits man, to
assume a sytnpaithetie expreseiop of
o4txnteitanee.
Tlxey walked back slowly to the
Hall in silence, passing through the:
village out of pure habit. Hugh was
evidently very much put out, .Bather
ley considered him even rude and
bearish, A man shonld restrain
himself befere the farce of his guea.ts.
M the door, Hatherley strolled ofr
round the garden walks and lit aa.
Cigar, Iingh went up to his own
dressing room.
The rest Ilarherley never knew ; ,,y
Ire only knew that at dinner that ' 1
night Mrs, Massinz;ers eyes were red
and sore with crying. Icor when
Hugh reached his own room --that•
pretty little dressing room with the
p0 tnegranit wall paper and the pale
blue Lahore hangings—he found
Winifred fiddling at his private
desk, a new lelaek-walnut desk wit&
endless drawers and niches and
pigeonholes. A sudden something
rose in his throat ae he saw her
fumbling at the doors of the cabinet
Where had she found that carefully
guarded key ?'---Aha, he knew i That,•
fellow Hatherley t—Hatherley had,
taken a cigar from his ease as they
went ont for a stroll together that
luckless morning ; and instead of
returning the case ,to the owner,
had lain it down in bis careless way
on the' study table. He always kept
the key concealed in the ease. --
Winifred ;oust accidently have -
found, it, and tried to worm out her
husbands seet•ets.—He hated such,
meanness in other people. How'
much had she found out . after all-
for her trouble, he•wondered 1
Ahl:
They both cried out in one voice
together ;. for Winifred had opened
a pigeon hole box wth the special/
key, and was looking intently with
rigid eyes at—a small gold watch
and a bundle of letters.
With a wild dart forward, Hugh
tore them from her grasp and crunched
thein in his band but not before
Winnifred had seen two things :.
first, that the watch was a counter-
part of her own—the very watch
Hugh had given to Elsie Challoner ;
second that the letters were iii—m_
familiar hand.—no other, hand than ' - ,
^
Elsie Challoner's.
She fronted hien rouge with a pale:
cold face. Hugh took the watch
and Ietters before her very eyes, and
locked them up again in their
pigeon -hole angrily. 'So this is how
you play the spy upon me !' he pried.
at last with supreme contempt in
his voice and manner.
But Winifred simply answered
nothing. She burst into •a fierce -
wild flood of tears,. 'I knew it 1'
she moaned in an agony of slighted.;
affection. '1 knew it ! I knew it 1'. •
So; after all, hi spite of her nightt.
and her pretended coolness, Elsie was.
corresponding still with her leusbandt:
Cruel ! edge] Elsie I Yet why, had
site given him back his -watch againt
That was more than Winifred
could ever explain ;in her simple
philosophy, She could only cry her
oyes out.
0055
Don
of b
Tho
his
a
Leen
ink
nice
me
waste
and
agai
McT
askir
that
legs
the 1
Its ji
often
engu
oh, L
mitt
Tavi
(TO DE CoNTINUDD.)
Particular to a kiair.
wring a severe storm on the west
t of Scotland a fisherman named '
ald McTavish was in great danger
cin; wrecked and losing hie life.
ugh seldom in the habit of praying
great danger forced him to attempt
rayer. This is reported to have
his original appeal: Oh, achy
hty Lord, look loon for twa-three
remnits, if rem two vera thrang, an
an' my helpless eoblo, an' thae big
rs that wants us to bo drooned,
bring the shore back to the boat
n. An', oh, Lord, it's Donald
avish, wi' the red heid, that's
r' Ye, and leo Donald McTavish
lives in the srniddy, wi' the lamely; and its no Donald McTavish,
iurpty back, that stole the coo.
st me, an' ye ken I dintia fash Ye
Then as a big wave nearly
Jphed the frail craft—And mind,
ord, ye mullsee an' teak' nae•
ako about it. Mind, Done.Id Mo-
sh, wi' the red held.
allold magazine we find it
d that until 1,ho year 1170 this.
was hi force in England;—''Wbo.
r shall entice into boas of neat-
ly any male ranbject of Th't
sty's by rneanaa of rouge, white.
Spanish cotton, steel coree'ts,
lite, high heeleda.hoes or false
a, ll h:; I:reseeuted for witch -
and the marriage doelared null
was tate property of my late respected swered testily. ' IN all very well forsnags
father-in-law, 13ut oireuanstauces yoti to talk; but it's a matter of life hips,.
alter cases, you know, as somebody and death to me. We've got to, :build craft,
once remarked with luminous plati a breahwtiter, that's wiitlt, it cues to, and v