HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Advocate, 1888-8-2, Page 7THE
THREAD
OR
SUNSHINE AND SHADE,
GRAFTER XII.—Tzle PLOT IPi EXECU
TION.
Hugh hurried along the dike that bounded
the salt - marsh meadows seaward, till he
reached thepoint in hia march up where
the aver narrowed abruptly into a mere
third-class upland stream, There he jump-
edin, and swam across, as well as he was
able in the coil dark water, to the opposite
bank. Onee over, he had still to straggle,
as best he might through two or three
swampy fields, and to climb a thickset hedge
or ea -=regular bnllfineheaebefore he fairly
gained the belated little high -road. Itis
head swam. Wet and cold and miser-
able without, be was torn within by
conflicting passions; buthe walked firm
and erect now along the winding read
in the deep•gloom, fortunately never meet-
ing a soul to the half -mile or ao of lonely
way that lay between the point where he
bad crossed the stream: and the Fisherman's
Rest by the bank at Whitestrand. He was
glad of that, for it was his cue now to escape
obeervatien. In his own iniad, he felt him
self a murderer; and every flicker of the
wind among the honeysuclrle in the hedge,
every rustle of the /eaves on the trees over-
/read, every splash of the waves upon the
distant shun, reale his heart flatter, and
breath to short in response, though he
gaaver no outer sign Qf fear or oompunotien
in, hie Oven ./treatt and erect bemengi—the
even tread and erect bearing of a proud,
self•cotifident, English gentleman,
Hew lucky that his railing} at the inn
leappened to be placed on the ground -finer,
true! that they opened by French windows
down to the grimed on to the little gatelike 1
How bielty, too, that they lay on the hither'
side of the door and the taproom, where
leen were spitting late over their ring; of
beer, singing mid rolholuog in vulgar mirth
with their loud half Ibuish, Eaet•Anglian
merriment ! Re stole through the garden
on tiptoe, unperceived, and glided like a
ghost into the tiny sitting -roam. The
lamp burned brightly en the parlour table,
as it bad burnt all evening, lin readfnesg for
/tie arrival. He slipped quietly, on tiptoe
still, lute the bedroom bellied, tweed off a
Miff glesefal of brandy-asid-water cold, and
chamg;ed ltfa elethea from bead to foot with ne
much tweed and noiselesnese as cir;,nm-
atancee permitted. Then, trending more
easily, he went out onee more with a bold
(rout into the other room, flung limaelf
down at hie ease in the big armchair, took
net a Welt, pretending to read, and rang the
111 with ostoutadu !demurour for the good
andlady. Ilia Planwas metered rhwuld
preened to put it luta execution.
Thelandlady, a plentiful body of .about
fifty, came in with evident aurpriam
and hesitation. " Lord, air," she cried
aloud in a slight 'flurry, to think of
that now 1 I took it you. was oat ; an
them men a-aingin g an ballyin' like that
over there in the ber.reom 1 Stanneway
he'll be downright angry when be duds
you've come in an' all that noise groi& on in
the'Qum, ea is Wrilly.reepectable. We never
heerd you, nor knowod you was ire Tope
you'll excuse them, air, beim' the fishermen
from Suede, enjoyin thelreelves their own
way In the cool o' the evontn',"
Hugh, made a manful effort to appear un-
concerned. "1 came in an hour ago or
more," ho replied, emiling;— a eugar•o -lead
sable. —' But pray, dont interfere with
these good people's merriment for worlds, I
beg of you. I ahould be sorry, indeed. if I
thought I put a stopper upon anybody's in-
nocent amusement anywhere. I don't want
to be considered a regular kill-joy.—I rang
the bell, Mxa. Stannaway, for a bottle of
seltzer."
It; was a simple way of letting them know
be was really there.; and though the lie
about the length of time he had been home
was a fairly audacious one—for somebody
might have comp in meanwhile to trim the
lamp, or look if he was about, and so detect
the falsehood—he caw at once, be Mra..
Stannaway'a face, that it passed muster with -
cut rousing the slightest suspicion.
" Why, William," he heard her my when
she went out, in a hushed voice to her hue -
band in the taproom, "Mr. Messinger, he's
bin in his own room all this time, an' them
men a-ehoutin' an' ewearin' out 'ere like a
peek of savages."
Then, they hadn't noticed bis absence, at,
any rate 1 That was well. He was so far
safe. If the rest of his plan held water
equaliy, all might yet come right—and ho
mighb yet succeed in marrying Winifred.
To nave appearances—and marry Wini-
fred J With Elsie still tossing on the break-
ers of the bar, he had it in his mind to
marry Winifred 1
When Mrs. Stannaway brought in the
seltzer, Hugh Messinger moray looked up
from the book he was reading with a plea-
sant nod and a murmured " Thank you,'
'Twas the most he dared. His teeth chat-
tered so he could hardly speak any further ;
but ho tried with an agonized effort within
to look as comfortst le under the circum-
stances as possible. As soon as she was gone,
however, he opened the seltzer, and pouring
himself out a second strong dose of brandy,
tossed it off at a gulp, almost neat, to steady
his nerves for serious business. Then he
opened his blotting -book, with a furtive
glane to right and left, and took out a few
stray sheets of paper—to write a letter. The
first sheet had some stanzas of verse scrib-
bled loosely upon it, with many corrections.
Hugh's eyes unponsciously fell upon one of
them. It read to him just then like an act
of accusation. They were some simple lines
describing some ideal utopian world—adream
teethe future—and the stanza on which his
glance lighted so carelessly ran thus :—
But fairer and purer :till,
True love is there to behold ;
And none may fetter hie will
With law or with gold :
And none may sully hie wings
With the deadly tint of the lust;
But freest of all free things
He soars from the dust,
"With law or with gold," indeed 1 Fool!
Idiot! , Jackanapes ! He crumpled the
verses angrily in his hand as he looked, and
flung them, with clenched tenth into the
empty fireplace. His own words rose up in
solemn judgment againet him and condemn-
ed him remorselessly by anticipation. He
had sold Elsie for Winifred's gold, and the
Nemesis of his crime was already pursuing
him like a deadly phantom through all hie
waking moments.
LIFE
With a set cold look on his handsome dark
face, be selected another sheet of clean white
notepaper from the morocco -covered blon
ting -book, anal then pulled, a bundle of
old,worn-edged letterafrom bisbreast-poeket
—a bundle of letters in a girl's hand.
writing, secured by an Drastic Andes -rubber
band, and carefully numbered with red ink
from one to seventy, in the order they were
received he Inugh was nothing, indeed, if
not methodical. In his own way, he had
loved Elsie, as well as he was capable of
loving anybody a he had kept every word
oho ewer wrote to him ; and now that she
was gone --dead. and gone for ever -her let-
ters were all he had left that belonged to
tier. Ile laid one down on the table before
bink and yielding to a momentary impulse
of ecstasy, bee kissed It ,first with reverent
tenderness, It was Elaie'a letter—poor dead
Eisie's—Elaie dead! Re could hardly realize
it.—His brain whirled and swam with the
manifold emotions of that eventful evening,
.Sut he must brace himself up for hie part
like a Fran. He meet not bo weak, There
was work to do; he moat make haste to do
it.
He took a broad-nibbed pen carefully
from; his deck—•the broadeab beoould tied ---
and fitted it with pains to hie ivory Hodder.
Elate always used is broad nib—poor
drowned Elsie—dear rnartyred Elate 1
Then, glauoing sideways at her last
letter, be wrote on the sheet, In a large
flowing angular hand, deep sad black„
moat unlike iris own, which was neat and
smell aril cramped: and rounded, the wee
solitary weds, "Alp darling." Ile gazed at
them when done with evident Gemplaceuoy,
They would do very we 1: an excellent imp
ration
Wee begging, then, to copy Elston letter
No; foritafir.uw ea. „My read
own darling lieges,," he had allowed her to
address him in aitch terms as that; but still,
he muttered to himself even now, be was
never engaged to her --never engaged to her.
Iu copying, he omitted the word "own,"
That, he thought, would probably be con-
aidered quite too affectionate far any rea-
sonable probability, Even in eniereencies be
waacoolaudnolleeted, But" d1ydarling"wee
just about the'proper menu, Gide are alwa e
attt idly brag their exreaston of feel.
in,, to one An..other, No doubt /tittle herself
would have begun,'°hfy darling,"
After that, he turned over the lettere with
careful scrutiny, es if looking down. the
a
eco byfar ao
or word ie wanted. At lastc
hectuuulare upon
the exact thing ; "Mra, Meyaey and Wini-
fred are going ant to -morrow, "That'll
do," he said in his soul to himself; "a curl
to the w" —and laying the blank sheet once
more before !him, he wrote down boldly, in
the same free band, with thick blade down-
atrohee, "My darling Winifred."
The flan was shaping itself clearly n his
mind now. Word by wore he tithed In sa,
copying each direct from Elden letter; and.
dovetailingthe whole with skilled Mowry
oraftemanahap into is Qurious Ionto of her pet
pbrases, till at last, after an hour's bard and
anxious work, round drops of sweat seta-
ing meanwhile cold and clammy upon itis
hot forehead, he read it over with unmixed
approbation to bimaolf—an excellent letter
both in design and execution.
WHITESTr.A\A Haze, Sept. 17.
hIy laAtrrtxa WI`IERuD-I can hardly
snake up my mind to write you this letter;
and yet T moat; I can no longer avoid it.
I know you will think me so winked, so nn•
grateful : I know Mrs. Meysey will never
forgive .me ; but I can't help it. Circum.
atanoes are too strong for me, By the time
this reecho you, I shall have left White -
trend, I fear for ever. Why I am leaving, I
can never, never, never tell you, if you try
to :find out, you wont succeed in discovering
it. I know what you'll think ; but you're
quite mistaken. It's something about which
you hew) never heard; something that I've
told to nobody anywhere ; something I can
never, never tall, even to you, darling. I've
written a line to explain to Hugh ; but it's
no use either of you trying to trace me. I
shall write to you some day again to lot you
know how I'm getting on—but never my
whereabouts.—Darling, for Heaven's sake,
do try to hush this up as much as you can.
To havemyself discussed byhalf the county
would drive me mad with despair and shame.
Get Mrs. Meysey to say I've been called
away auddenly by private business, and will
not return. If only you knew all, you
would forgive me everything.—Good-bye,
darling, Don't think too harshly of me.
Ever your affectionate, but heart -broken
ELSIB,
His soul approved the style and the
matter. Would it answer his purpose? he
wondered, half tremulously. Would they
really believe Elsie had written it, and
Elsie was gone ? How account for her
never having been seen to quit the grounds
of the Hall? For her not having been ob-
served at Almundham Station ? For no
trace being left of her by rail or road, by
by aea or river ? It was a desperate card to
play, he knew, but he held no other ; and
fortune often favourn the brave. How often
at loo bad he stood against all precedent
upon a hopeless hand, and swept the board
in the and by some audacious stroke of in-
spired good play, or some strange turn or the
favouring chances 1 He would' stand to win
now in the same spirit on the forged letter.
It was his one good card. Nobody could
ever prove he wrote it. And perhaps, with
the unthinking readiness of the world at
large, they would all accept ib without
further question.
If ever Elsie's body were recovered 1 Ah,
yes : true : that would indeed be fatal. But
then, the ahancea were enormously against
it. The deep sea holds its own : It yields
up its dead only to patient and careful
ses:role ; and who would ever dream of
searching for Elsie ? Except himself, she
had no one to search for her. The letter
was vague and uncertain, to be sure ; but
its very vaguenees was infinitely better than
the most definite lie ; it left open the door
to so much width of conjecture. Every man
could invent his own solution. If be had
tried to tell a plausible story, it might have
broken down when confronted with the in-
convenient detail of stern reality; but he
had trusted everything to imagination. And
imagination is such a charmingly elastic fac-
ulty ! The Meyaeya might put their own
construction upon it. Each, no doubt,
would put adifferent one ,and each
would
be convinced that his own was the truest.
He folded it up and thrust it into an
envelope. When he addressed the face bold-
ly, in the eemefree black hand as the letter
itself, to "° Miss Aleyaey, Toe Hall, White -
strand," In the corner be stuck the identi-
callittle monogram, E. 0., written with
strokes creasing each other, that Elsie put
on ail her lettere. lite power of imitating
tbeminutest details of any autograph stood
bine here in good stead, It was a perfect
fae•simile, letter and address ; and tottered,.
as he was in hia own mind by remoras and
fear, he smiled to himself an approving smile
as Ile gazed at tbe abeelutely undetectable
forgery. No expert on earth could ever
detect it. "That ll clinch all, he thought
serepely, " They'll never for a moment
doubt that it Domes. from Elsie,"
He knew the Meyseys had gone out to
dinner at the vicarage that evening, and
weuldnot eaten% until after the !tour at
which Elsie usually retired. As soon as
they got back, they would take it for grant-
ed she had gone to bed, as the always did,
and would in all probability never inquire
for her, If so, nothing would be known till
to -morrow at breakfast. He must drop the
letter into the box unperceived to -night,,
and then it would be delivered at White -
strand is due comae by the fleet poet to-
morrow..
He abet the front window, put out the
lamp, and stale quietly into the bedroom
behind. That done, he opened the little Ian
tics into the back garden, and slipped out,.
closing the window loosely after Hitt, and
blowing out the candle, The post-o$ise lay
juat beyond the church, lie walked there
feat, dropped his letter be minty into the
box, and turned, uusoen, into the It ghteml
once more in the dusky moenligglst.
Wearied and faint rota* halt delirloueits he
was after bie long immersion, lee couldn't
even now go back to the inn #o rent quietly,
Eleio's image haunted him still. A etrenge
fascination led him across the Heide and
through the lane to the Hail—to EieiO"e last
dwelling lilacs. lie walked, in by the Tittle
alde•gate, the way he usually genie to visit
Elate, and prowled guiltily to the back of
the house, The, family had evidently re-
turned, and suspected nothing ;, no:sl �e of
beetle or commotion er disturbance
betrayed itaelt .anywhere ; not a. light
allowed ficin a elegies window aU was
dark and stilt front end to end, as if peer
dead Elsie were aleoping caleuly_inher own
little bedroom in the main building. It was
close on one in the morning note, Hugh
skulked and prowled around the east wing
on cautious tiptoe, like a coevieted burglar.
As be /tassel ,Elsie'a room, all nark and
empty, a mad desire .seized upon him all et
QUO to look in at the window and see hew
everything lay within there, At Drat, he
bad no more reason for the act in hie head
than that : the Pune only developed itself
further as he thought of it. It wouldn't be:
diflicnit to climb to the sill by the aid of the
porch and the olamberingwistaria. Ile liemit•
cited a nzoment; then remorse and curiosity
tivally conquered. The remaatte suggestion
came to biro, like a dream,in his fevered and
almnst delirious condition; like as dream, he
carrion it at once into effect, Groping and
feeling his way with dumb .fingers, dim eyes,
and head that atilt reeled and. swam tri ter,
ribte ,giddiness from his long spell of eon-
tinned asphyxia, ho raised himself cautiously
to the .level of the *ill, and priced the win-
dow open with his dead 'white hand. The
lamp on the table, though turned down to
low that he hadn't observed its glimmer
from the outaido, was atilt alight and burn.
ing faintly. Be was
le up prat ter enough.
to aeo through the gloom his way about the
bedroom. The door was cloned, but not
looked. He twiated thokeynoieeleaalywith
dexterous preasure, so as to leave le fastened
from the inaido.—That was a clover touch 1
—They would think Elea had climbed out
of the window.
A few letters and things lay Iooae about
the room. The devil within trim was ravel-
ling naw iu hideous euggostions, Why not
make everything clear behind bin? He
gathered them up and atuck them in his
pookot. Elsie's small black loather bag
stood on a wooden frame in the far corner.
Ha pushed into it beadily the nightdress on
the bed, the brush and comb, and a few
selected articles of underclothing from the
chest of drawers by the tiled fireplace. The
drawers themselves he lift sedulously open,
It argued haste. If you choose to play for
a high atake,;you must play boldly, but you.
must play well. Hugh. never for a moment
concealed from himself the fact that the ad-
versary against whom he was playing now
was the public hangman, and that his own
neck was the stake at issue.
If ever it was discovered that Elide was
drowned, all the world, including the en-
lightened British jury—twelve butchers and
bakers and candlestick -makers, selected at
random from the Whitestrand rabble, he
said to himself angrily—would draw the in-
evitable inference for themselves that Hugh
had murdered her. Hia own neck was the
stake at inane—hie own neck, and honour
and honesty.
He glanced around the room with as ap-
proving eye once more. It was capital 1
Splendid ! Ever} thing was indeed in most
admired disorder. The very spot it looked,
in truth, from which a girl had esoaped in a
breathless hurry. He left the lamp atill
burning at half -height: that fitted well ; low-
ered the bag by a piece of tape to the garden
below ; littered a few:stray handkerchiefs and
lace bodices loosely on the floor ; and crawl-
ing out of the window with anxious'gare, tried
to let himself down hand over hand bya, branch
of the wistaria. The branch snapped short
with au ugly crack ; and Hugh found him-
self one second later on the shrubbery be-
low, bruised and shaken.
CHAPTER XIII.—water SUCCESS ?
At the Meyseys' next morning, all was
turmoil and surprise. The servants' hall
fluttered with unwonted excitememt. No
less . an event than an elopement was
suspected. Miss Elsie had not Dome down
to breakfast; and when Miss Winifred went
up, on the lady's -maid's report, to ask what
was the matter, she had found the door
securely locked on the inside, and received
no answer to her repeated questions. The
butler, hastily 'summoned to the rescue,
broke open the look ; and Winifred entered,
to find the lamp still feebly burning at half -
height, and a huddled confusion everywhere
pervading the disordered room. 'Clearly,
some strange thing had occurred.Elsie's
drawers had been opened and searched the
black bag was gone from the stand in the
corner; and the little jewel -case with the
'silver shield on the top was missing from its
accustomed: 'place on the dressing -table,
With a sudden Dry, Winifred rushed for-
ward. terrified. Her first idea was the mewl
feminine one of robbery and murder. Elsie
was killed—killed by a burglar. But one
glanee at the bed dispelled that allusion ; it
had never been slept~ in, The nightdress
end the little embroidered nightdress bag in
red ailk were neither of them there in their
familiar fashion. The brush and comb had
disappeared from the base of the looking -
glean The hairpins evert had been removed
Epsom theglaas hairpin box. These indica.'
time seemed frankly inoonsiatent with the
theory of mere intrueive burglary. The
enterprising burglar doesn't make up
the bed of the robbed andmurdered,
niter pocketing their watehee ; nor
does he walk off, as a rule, with ordinary
h.iirbruahee and: embroidered, niglitdreea
bage, Sur rued sed alarmed, Winifred,
rushed to the window; it wee open still ; a
breach of the wistaria lay broken on the
ground, and the mark of a falling body
might be tunny observed among the plants
aped soil in the shrubbery border.
By this time, the Squire had appeared
Ppm upthe scene:hanging In his hand a let-
ter for Winifred, With the coot common-
lanae of edvancing years, he surveyed the
room in its littery condition, and gazed over
Ida daughter's shoulder as elle read the
Shadowy and incoherent jumble of phrases
Hugh. Messinger had strung together ao
carefully in Elaie'a name ?sat night at the
Fisherman's .Rest, "Whey, 1" he wbiatled
f to hfinealf cal sharp enrpniee as the state of
the case dawned slowly upon hlan, "/Depend
upon it,
there's a young man at the
bottom of this. «Onerchez la femme," says
the .Freeels proverb. When isen situgo.
.mar's in the proverb,
"Qherolwz 1'ihouzne'"
oomaa very mush nearer it. The ghee run
ff off with santetooly, yon may be sure. I ozsly
bop ahe's ecu elf all straight and above-
board, and not goneaway with a groomor a
gamekeeper or married a clrgyman,
"raps 1" Winifred cried, laying down
the letter isi leasee and bursting+, into teals,
"do you think Mr. hiamieger can 'have
auythsng to do with 1t'"
The Squire han been duly apprised Taut
night by Mre, M'oyeey le Suocessiva instar•
/ricers-- tia to the Meteofrelatione between
Hugh awl ndrinifred; but hie blunt English
nature cavalierly rejected the suggested ex.
planation,
e -
planation, of Etsie'a departure, and he
brushed, It mirk at once after' tine fashion, of
his kind with an easy rs Diemy soul 1 net
child, The girl's run off with some fool
somewhere. pet's alwaya feels who situ off
with women. Da you thick a man would
be Idiot enough to"mile was just -going
to any ",propene to ane woluau it,. the
morning, and elope with another the even,
Ing alter*" but he checked htinealf In tireo,
betore the face of the servants, and (!malted
bra sentence timely by isay ng throned, "earn -
mit himself so with a girl of that sort?"
44 That wean't what I meant, papa,"
Wialfredd whispered Tow. "I .erleaut, could
!deee"
]save fanclei. R--- - Yoe understand
The quire gave a tined in pla.e of Ye,
Imposalbte, impoaatble; the young ensu WAS
ao well connected, She could navor have
thought he meant to make up to her. Much
more likely, if it came to that, the girl
wculd run away tale him than team him,
Young women dont really ran away from
a man because their hearts are broken.
They go up to their own bedrooms
instead, and muse and mope .over it, and i
try their eyes red.
And indeed, the Sgntro remarked to him-
eeif inwardly on the other hand, that if
Hugh were minded to elope with any cue, he
would be far more likely to elope with the
heiress of %Vbitestrand than with a penniless
governose like Elsie Challoner. Elopement
implies parental opposition, Why the deuce
should a man take the trouble to run away
with an uudowered orphan, whom nobody
on earth desires to prevent him from marry -
lug any day, in the strictly correetese man*
ner, by benne or license et the parish church
of her own domicile? The suggestion was
clearly quite quixotic. If Elsie had rem.
away with any one, it was neither from nor
with tine young man of Winifred's, the
Squire felt sure, bub with the gardener's
son or with the under -gamekeeper.
Still, he telt distinctly relieved in his own
mind when, at half -past ten, Hugh Messing-
er strolled idly in, a rose in his button hole
and a smile on Isis face—thaugh a little lame
of the loft leg—all unconscious, apparently,
that anything out of the common had hap-
pened since last night at the groat house.
Hugh was one of the very finest and moat
finished actors then performing on the stage
of social England ; but even he had a diffi-
cult part to play that stormy morning, and
he went through his role, taking it alto-
gether, with but indifferent success, though
with sufficient candour to float him through
unsuspected somehow. The circumstances,
inieed, were terribly against him. When he
fell the night before from Elsie's window, he
had bruised and shaken himself, already
fatigued as he was by his desperate swim
and his long unconecionsnean ; and, it was
with a violent effort, goaded on by the
sense of absolute necessity alone, that he
picked himself up, black bag and all, and
staggered home, with one ankle strained, to
hia +coma at Stannaway's. Once arrived
there, he locked away Elsie's belongings
cautiously in back cupboard—incriminating
evidence, indeed, if anything ahould ever
happen to come out—end flung himself half
•eurlressod at haat in a fever of fatigue upon
the bed in the corner.
Strange to say, he slept—slept soundly.
Worn out with overwork and exertion and
faintness, he slept on peacefully like a tired
child, till at nine o'clock Mrs. Stanuaway
rapped hard at the door to rouse him.
Then he woke with a start from, aheavy sleep,
his head aching, but drowsy still, and with
feverish pains in all his limbs from his desper-
ate swim and hie long immersion. He was
quite unfit to get up and dress; but he
rose for all that, as if all was well, and even
pretended to eat some breakfast, though a
cup of tea was the only thing he could
really gulp down his parched throat in his
horror and excitement, Last night's events
came clearly home to him now in their
naked ghastliness, and with sinking heart
and throbbing head he realised the full
extent of his guilt and his danger, the depth.
of his remorse and the profundity of his
folly.
Elsie was gone—tbatwas his first thought.
There was no more an Elsie to reckon with
in all this world: Her place :was blank
how blank Ile could never before have truly
realised. The whole world itself was blank
too; What he loved best in it all was gone
olefin out of it.
Eine, Elsie, poor. drowned, lost Elsie !
His heart ached as he thought to himself of
Elsie, gasping and struggling in that cold,,
cold sea, among those fierce wild breakers,
for one last breath—and knew it was he who
bad driven her, by iiia baseness and wicked-
nese and cruelty, to that terrible ,end of a
sweet young existence,He had darkened
the sun in heaven for hinaself henceforth and
for ever, He had sown the wind, and he
ahemid reap tine whirlwied, He hated !lint,
pelf;, he hated Winifred ; he crated every-
body aed everything but Elaie i'oer mar.
tyred Elsie 1 Beautiful Elsie ! Hia own
sweat, exquisite, noble Elsie 1 He would
have given the whole world at that monienh
to being her back again, But the past was
irrevocable, quite irrevocable, There wan
nothing for strong man now to do bet to
brace himself up and face the present.
"If not, what resolation ire= deep,* 2 "--
That wan alt the comfort hips philosophy
could give him.
E,laie'a tbinge were locked up in the cup,
boar& If suslsiefen lighted upon him in any
way now, le was all up with him." Elsie's
bag and eewelcase and clothing in the cep-
board would alone lee more than enough to
bang him. hang him 1 What did he euro
any longer for hanging ? They *night hang
him and welcome, if they chose to try. For
sixpence he would save themthe trouble
and drown himself. He wanted to die, Ib
WAS fate prevented hurt. Why hadn't hQ
.drowned whenhe might, Inst night ? An
ugly proverb that, about the man who is
born to be banged, &c,, tee.. Some of these
proverbs are downright rade--poaitive1y
vulgar in the coarse aimplioity and direct.•
neap of their language.
He gulped dawn the tea with a terrible
effort : it wets scalding her+ and it burnt his
mouth, hue he scarcely noticed it, Then he
pelted about the Pole on his fork for a
motuept, to dirty, the plate, anti boning it
roughly, gave the Used to the eat, wise ate
It purring an the rugby the fireplace. He
welted for a neac4nale interval haat before
ringing the bell—it takes a lone men tell
inmates to breakfast—but as iman as that
necessary trine bad passed, he put on labs
bat, crsalifng it deems an iiia bead, ,and with
fiery soul sand bursting templet, strolled up,;
with the jauntiest air he could winnow to
the Meyeeye' after breakfast,
Winifred met him at the front door, Hie
nate eweethee t was pato acrd Welded, 'bete
net now crying, Hugh felt himself atraid to
preanntie upou their novel rattle= and in*
scat upon a k'ise—alte would expect it of hire.
It war the very firat time ha /tad ever kink-
ed her, arid, oh, evil osuau, it revolted haus
at last that belted now to do it—with Eteie's
Body tossed about that very ruauzeat by
the cruel waves uparz that augry bar or or;
the cold ata -bottom, It wase treason to
F,tsla—to pour deed Elsie ---that be should
ever tries any rather woutau, Ili'ea losses
were here, bla heart wax !leis, for ever crud
ever. But what would you haver He
looked on, iia he had said, ae If from Above
as eircuaietazscee wafting hie own alt.
Ione liltiser rand thither wherever they
willed --end this was the pail to,a WoLs they
/tad naw brought bine He moat play out
the plane—piny it cue to the and, whatever
it might coat pian.
Winifred took the kiwi mein:Weeny and
coldly, aedhanded him Blends latter—hie
owe forged letter --without one word of pre,
face or explanation. Hughwes glad the did,
so at the very iiret momen--.,—it allowed him
to relieve himmelf at ons* from, the terrible
amain of the affected gayety lee was keeping
up nab to save appearances. Ile couldn'e
have, kept it up much longer. Hie counten.
auto fell visibly 'se he real tbo uote--orpre-
tended to read it, for he heti no need really
to glance et its words --every word of them
alt now burnt into the very fibre* and Fabric'
of his being.
(TQ ISE CONTiNnan )
The Sleepers,
.d CONTRAST.
Behold themstumbericg silo by aide,
Fair sniffling youth and hoary age ;
One dreams d worldly pomp and pride,
Where men a godless warfare wage ;
The other dreams of summer Lewers,
Bright sunshine, warbling birds, and flowers.
One brow is marked with lines afore,
Which shows the world -warn spirit grieves;
The other gleam 'neath clustering hair;
Tao a fair Star through quivering leaven.
One heart's grasping, proud, and cold;
The other, generous, warm, and bold,
One breathes a long, n weary sigh,
And dreams of earthly gain or loss,
As with a keen, aueplcious eye.
Ile counts once more his glitttrring dross
The other b :nods a itis joyous tread
O'er fields of clover white and std.
A groan eeespca the old man's lips,
aeroan of mingled rage And pain,
For to l his schemes, like phantom chips,
Have vanished'aeath the treacherous main.
He stretches forth ane wrinkled hand,
To find his treasured board but sand.
From parted lips of tender bloom
A trill of merry laughter steals,
Whose fairy music fille the room—
The happy boy fa dreamland kneels
Above a little crystal stream,
Where rushes wave and pebbles gleam
And, he beholds with sparkling eyes
His ship—a water-lily—glide
Beneath the rosy -tinted skies,
Richt bravely down the dimpling tide.
Ilia bark no sordid hopes doth bear,
But dances on, he cares not where.
Hark 1 how the dreaming worldling speaks;
"The path to wealth, how drear, how long!"
"Ah 1" orie, the boy, with glowing charas,
" Row lovely is the skylark's song,
High soaring .mid the blue above,
For ever singing, God is love 1"
And when the morning nun shall rise
To charm away the mists of night,
The boy will greet with gladdened eyes
A world of beauty bathed in light,
For a fond mother's morning loss
Will ope its golden gates of bliss.
But the poor worldling. what of biro
Will he not seek the busy mart,
Like some gaunt spectre, stern and grins,
No joy. within his withered heart
For life is empty, vain, and call
To him who only seeketh gold 1
—Earners Fonsasrss,
VIM
Declared O1L
AY A. W. BELLAW.
We've plighted troth ; the day is set
There ie no fairer bride than she,
Than I no fonder lover. yet
That matoh is destined not to he.
An awful bar is in the way,
For though I've wealth in goodly eters
And cannot fear a rainy day,
Her name is Riot; and my name's Poor
Why did I never think of this
To save her from so dire a fate
And from a lifelong wretchedness
For she was reared hi high estate.
How very dreadful would it be
For one so gentle to endure
The taunts of those who'd say that she,
Who once was Rioh, had wedded Foo
Then" A Poor•Rioh Affair " we'd see
In every paper, and the wits
Would set to punning bt}wily-
The public laughing at their hits.
111 eall.the invitations in,
However much I must deplore,
I'd rather, just to save the din,
she'd still be Riolr and rd -be Pooh:.