The Wingham Times, 1885-09-18, Page 3A TERRIBLE, TRAGEDY,
By the'"Author of "Tail FLOWER GIRL,"
... "LOVELY LADY LYNIIURST," &C , &e,
CHAPTER I.
if She stood on the brow of the hill, a bright
spot in the sober landscape, one small brown
hand shading her eyes as she glanced expeot-
•antly around, the other holding loosely by
ono oherry-ooloured string an old hat, the
h deous proportions of which she had effeo-
tuatly concealed . by the garland of wheat
and ox -eyed daisies which she had twined
around it, A short kilted skirt of the same
bright hue as her ribbons just showed the
turn of her neat ankles encased in coarse
black -ribbed stockings. She wore a heavy
pair of boots of inferior workmanship, which
oould not however conceal the feet that the
feet they enveloped wore small and pretty.
The dying rays of the setting sun fell aslant
her, bringing out in stronger relief the one
bit of colour whioh had so dark a setting in
the pine -wood that stretched beyond and
17" above her. The quaint velvet bodice that
had done duty so long was turning from
black to russet brown ; it was almost, in
fact, the same shade as the long tresses of
hair which fell in heavy masses below the
slim waist. •
The girl and her .surroundings formed a
pretty picture. So at least thought the young
man who just then vaulted over a stile and
came sauntering towards her. Apparently
it was he whose advent had been expected,
for the watcher dropped her hand and went
forward hastily to meet him.
"How long you have been ! I thought you
- 'wasn't coming," she said, with the pretty
petulance of a spoilt child.
"Did I ever break my word, Dolly?" the
new comer questioned softly, though he
winced a little at her faulty grammar, "Did
I ever say I would come and disappoint
you ?" he queried again, as she did not
speak,
"N -o, perhaps not," she admitted reluot-
antly; "only I have been waiting, and, oh,
the time seemed so long—so long 1"
He might have been touched by the now
ring of pain in her sweet tones, but that his
thoughts were wandering, and he heeded it
not.
" And now that I have come," he said,
with an effort bringing himself to the p es-
ent, "let us kiss and be friends, as the
children say ;" and, suiting the aotion to the
words, he drew her towards him,and pressed
his moustached lip on her shrinking ones.
" What ! You do not care for my kisses any
longer ?'' he went on ; for there was no mis-
taking the shiver that passed over her as
he released her from his embrace.. " Ah,
well"—with a shrug of his broad shoulders—
"I suppose I must be prepared to hear that
there is a more favoured swain 1 Who is it,
Dolly 2 Young Joe Smith, the gardener, or
Tom Larkins, your father's apprentice ?
Come, which is it;:" He put his hand under
her chin as he spoke, and tried to turn the
averted face towards him ; but she steadily
resisted his efforts to do do so. "I think
you might tell me," he added in an aggrieved
tone, "if only for the sake of old times,"
" Why of old times ?", ehe,questioned, 'in
a conatr ened voice, still without looking
round.
" Oh, well, you know we have been aw-
fully jolly together," he asserted a little -
lamely—" quite chums in fact 1"
" And now we can be so no longer," the
girl rejoined, in a 'tone of bitterness which'
did not escape bim.
" I did not say that."
" But you hinted at it. Ah, you think I
don't know !" she went on, flashing round
upon him, and speaking quicklyenough now.
"Certainly I have"been slow in finding out
what everbody else seems to have known so
long 1"
" I don't understand. Upon my word,
Dolly, you are very mysterious this evening,
and I should say a little cross, only—"
"Oh, you needn't apologise 1" Dolly in-
terupted scornfully. "I don't wantany
more fine speeches; I—I—" But here
her indignation gave way, and she burst in-
to a torrent of tears,
Captain Braithwaite glanced around cau-
tiously, and bit his lip with vexation. This
/title girl, in whose company he had passed
so many pleasant hours and .whom hitherto
he had found as gentle as a lamb, was be-
ginning to bore him, and indeed—whioh was
worse still—was likely to prove troublesome.
He had come prepared to -day to tell her
that it was desirable that their acquaintance
should cease, that ciroumstancos had occurred
that rendered it expedient that gossiping
tongues should not have it in their power to
connect his name with hers; and, before he
could explain anything, or soften the news
that he had Dome to break to her, she had
made a scene. '
What would she do when' she heard the
truth 2 That reflection rather disconcerted
the gallant Captain; add he determined to
defer bis tidings—perhaps in the meantime
alhe might learn it from some one else, and
mo a groat deal;bf unpleasantness would be
saved him. He was delighted at the idea.
Yea; such thine were best left to ohance,
and, after all, what was there to tell? Why
should it be necessary to confide his private
affairs to this little rustic beauty ? What
could hia future conduct signify to Dolly
Jarvis, the blacksmith' i daughter ? Ah,
what indeed? Only with the living present,
then had he avght to do ; as for the past,
a wiser man man than he had said, "Let the
dead paet bury its dead."
So he knelt down by the girl's side—for
she had thrown herself upon the ground,
and, loaning her arm on a felled tree, had
hidden her face upon it --and, stretching out
a slim white hand, placed it caressingly on
the tumbled cheenut locks.
"Little Doll, look up 1" he whispered soft-
ly. " Child, do not grieve so ; there is real-
ly nothing whioh need make you so unhap-
py. Whatever you may think, always re-
member I have not -changed in my affection
for you. Come"--ooaxingly—"let me see
your bright eyes laugh again 1"
Obediently, though rather shame-facedly,
she raised her tear -stained face—a very April
face it was now, smiles and tears striving for
the mastery.
"It was very foolish of me," she said at
last a little nervously. "I was afraid you
were getting tired of me. I—I—got tired
of waiting, I suppose, and—and I heard there
were visitors at the Hall"—this in a lower
pain -stricken voice—"and I thought maybe
you preferred their company to mine."
" Which wasn't true, you see," Captain
Braithwaite returned cheerily, "for I left
them all to Dome to you."
"Did you really ?" she asked, her eyes
flashing now with joy; then more soberly—
" It was very wrong of me to doubt you ;
please forgive me."
A better man than the Captain would
have been moved by the simplicity of the
girl ; but he was only glad to see that a
storm was for the present averted.
" I'm not so sure that you deserve forgive-
ness," he said gaily. "Suppose I require
you to do penance before I grant you par
don,"
" Penance 1" she repeated, puzzled.
" What is that ? '
He had forgotten for a moment that he
was speaking to an an uneducated rustle,
instead of a society belle, and he felt half
vexed at her for her ignorance and with
himself that he had not remembered it.
"Penance," he answered gravely, "i do-
ing something one does not like as a punish-
ment for wrong -doing, and with the hope
of afterwards being forgiven. Now don't
you think you aught to do penance for doubt-
ing my affection for you before I reinetate
you in my favor 2"
"I will do anything in the world you
wish," she said, clasping her hands, and re-
garding him with earnest wistful eyes.
At the si ht of the pretty tremulous lips,
the soft gazelle -like eyes, a faint feeling of
compunction stirred the worldling for the
first time. How she trusted him, and how
basely he was about to betray that trust 1
Ho moved uneasily,
"You take my words always too seriously,
little one," he said, endeavoring to speak
lightly, but avoiding her direct gaze,
" However, instead of doing penance, sup-
pose you make me a promise instead ?''
"What is it 2'' be asked. "You know I
can do so little for you," she went on sadly.
"I'm not like your fine folk at the Hall."
"Well, what I am going to ask I hope
you 'will not find difficult to perform. It is
this—promise me that you will not believe
anything that you may hear said against
me. Teem will be plenty of people to
whisper evil things about me to you'fby-and-
by ; but you must not believe them,"
"Of course not," she said indignantly;.
" but" -Hesitatingly,—"• why should they
say anything bad about you 2'•'
"qui, I hardly know 1 But in a little place
likerthia there is so muchgossip, and people
talk about their neighbors' affairs simply be-
cause they have nothing better to do."
"At any rate, I would not believe any:
thing wrong about yon," the girl declared
confidently.
"And, Dolly, whatever happens, you will
always try to think well of me ; you will
remember that,, whatever I do that may
seem to you unkind, it will be because `I am
obliged to do it, because I have no
choice in the matter ; and, above all, do not
forget that, notwithstanding appearances
may be against me, I loved you—ay, a
thousand times better than any one else in
the world 1"
He had not meant to be a villain—five
minutes ago he would not have spoken thus;
he could not understand himself why he felt
this sudden desire to stand well in this sim-
ple child's eyes, why he, whose praises were
Bung by high-born dames, whose society was
courted by the mothers of fashionable
daughters, should care to shine in the eyes
of ono of the people—a plebeian—a black-
smith's daughter ; nevertheless it was a fact
that Dolly's soft shy voice, Dolly's sweet
sad eyes, had never proVed more attractive,
;her charms had never'eeemed so great ae at
this moment, when he was on the point of
renouncing her for over.
A great fear, terrible even in its vague-
nese, seized upon Dolly. Why did, ho speak
so strangely 2 What had he done, what was
he' going to do 2 Why did he regard her
with that wholly loving yethalf pitying
manner? Ab, well, he loved her—loved
her even better than the proud beautiful
girls ho met every day at the Hall 1 Had'he
not said so? After that, what mattered any-
thing? The sun might cease to shine, the
stars might fall, nothing could affect her
now. She was bewildered, entranced, Her
lowly birth, whioh placed her so far beneath
him, her father's humble calling, her own
look of education—all—all would be bridged
over by that one word "love."
She name nearer to him ; he felt her sweet
breath fan his fevered brow, one little hand
stole timidly up to his nook, the glamour of
her youth and beauty and innocence was up-
on him. He looked up ; their eyes met,
his full of fere and passion, hers timid and
half veiled by the white lids whioh strove
vainly to conceal the tale that was told too
well.
She drew a long quiverering sigh. The
spell was broken, He was but human ; he
had come to bid her farewell, he remained
to console her.
CHAPTER II.
" It is as true as you stand there, believe
it or not. Our Sue see'd her. I know'd no
good 'nd come of her fine airs. Thinks her-
self too good to mix with such as us,"
" Ay, ay, 'tie a cad pity I" the other wo-
man said, with a shake of her head. " Her
mother was a good sort, though a trifle high-
minded, I've heard say ; perhaps her daugh-
ter takes after her in that wise."
"Umph 1 'Igh-minded, yon calf it, do
you 2" cried Meg Smith, with a scornful
toss of her tawny looks. " I should call it
low -minded to go gallivanting about with a
young man who means no good !"
" Stop, Meg 1" the elder woman said,
pausing in her occupation of weighing out
some soap for the buxom lase who, with her
sleeves turned up to her elbows, was lean-
ing against the counter of the little general
shop presided over by Widow Lane. " It's
a serious charge to make against the child.
You forget she has no mother, and, if she
is a little thoughtless, well, we cannot blame
her much,"
" Oh, of course not 1" sniffed Meg. "Every
one takes her part just because she happens
to think herself better -looking than others
and her father is fool enough to let her deck
herself out in all kinds of fripperies. Even
Joe took her part when Sue was talking
about her at dinner, and I'm sure she's be-
haved bad enough to him, and then father
put in a word, and I know what he'd say
if one of his gala was caught along with
their betters a love -making ! As for that, I
dare say old Adam will kick up a fine fuss
when he hears how Doily is carrying on."
" I tell you what, Meg; I wouldn't inter-
fere in this matter, if I were yon," advised
the widow. "It's little good will come in
setting father and daughter by the ears ;
and, as I said before, the lass is to be pitied,
having no mother to counsel her."
"Oh, I sha'nt say anything to old Adam l
I'd as soon go into a lions' den as put him
out. He's not the sweetest customer to
deal with when he's angry, as we all know.
However, he's sure to hear about Dolly
sooner or later, and then I'd not stand in her
shoes for a pension. Oh, that's the soap, is
it? Thank you, and good morning,"
Hardly had Meg reached the door when
another person entered. This time it was
a young fellow of about nineteen or twenty,
His naturally fair complexion was tanned
by exposurre to the sun and air. Without
being positively handsome, he had a frank
pleasing expression, more attractive than
mere beauty, and that made him a general
favorite. His blue eyes had a merry twink-
le in them, and his gaze was clear and direct.
An honest manly youth was Tom Larkins,
one of Nature's gentlemen.
To -day, however, there was a little frown
on his usually placid brow as he approached
Dame Lane's counter and asked, in estrange
half -hesitating manner, for nothing more
formidable than a ball of string. Then,
while the widow severed one from a number
hanging on a hook, the uneasy look deepen
ed in his eyes, and he fumbled nervously in
his `pocket for quite a minute before he pro-
duced a threepenny -piece.
" A nice morning, Mr. Larkins ; it's to
be hoped the weather will pink up a bit
now," the dame remarked, cheerily, as she
handed him the string and counted out
his change. " We've had about enough
rain,I'm thinking, for the present."
" Yes—no," Tom said confusedly, not
having heard one word of the widow's sent-
ence, his thoughts being occupied in won-
dering how ho 'should explain the motive
of his visit, the string only having been a
pretext for obtaining a few minutes' chat
with the old dame.
Mrs. Lane looked at him sharply over the
top of her speotaeles; it was po unlike Tom
to be confused ; then she spoke briskly,
" You've got something on your mind,
Tom, that you want to tell me. Out with
it 1 If I can do anything foryou, you know
I will." Then more gravely--" You've not
been getting into any trouble with old Adam,
I hope ?"
"No—oh, no ; its not about myself I want
to speak 1" declared the lad. "It's—it's
about Dolly."
"Ah l"
It was a very comprehensive "ah" ; and
Tom gleamed up quickly.
"I see," he said sorrowfully; yen heves
hoard too."
"Yes ; but I don't believe half what peo-
ple say," responded the widow, who herself
was as fond of a little gossip as moat folk,
r141,1,16. YAP
though she never indulged in ill-natured
scandal. "Dolly is a good girl—I will main-
tain that—and she has done nothing worse
thon act a little thoughtlessly—depend upon
that, Tom,"
The lad's countenance brightened as he
seized the good dame's hand and pressed it
gratefully between his own brown palms,
" Thank you for saying that," he mur-
mured, They are all so hard upon her—and
Meg Smith's worst of all—just because Dolly
is the best -looking lass in the village and be-
cause Adam can afford to keep her at home
and let her dress better than the others ;
they hate her, and would do her all the harm
they could, poor girl—and she so sweet and
gentle as well as pretty 1 It isn't her fault
if—if the quality do take notice of her,
Meg's only spiteful because Dolly doesn't
care for her brother Joe. As if Dolly
couldn't pick and choose whom she will 1"
"I doubt me Meg has another cause for
grievance," remarked the widow slyly ; and
poor Tom coloured to the roots of his curly
hair. "I'm not surprised at all the lasses
getting a little jealous," went on the old
woman. "It's rather hard on them that all
their sweethearts should leave them to run
after Dolly."
"But Dolly doesn't want them 1' de-
clared Tom stoutly.
" I didn't say she did," rojoined the
widow soothingly, for the young apprentice
was beginning to show signs of irritability.
" And I don't believe she cares a fig
about the Captain either, notwithstanding
Mega jeers. She's more aense than to listen
to any of his soft speeches, knowing he is
as good as married already."
" Oh ? Then Dolly does know about
Mise Mainwaring ? I thought p'raps she
mightn't have heard."
" Of course she has—everybody has in
the village," Tom says irrelevantly. " She's
expected at the Hall to -morrow ; I met one
of the under -grooms just now, and he told
me so—he was exercising a horse ready for
her to ride. The wedding is to be in the
spring."
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
A STUDENT'S DUEL.
tiow tl,o boys Fight a' Gottingen ilniver.
sity, Germany.
A student at Gottingen, G. M. Harper,
writes the following account of a recent
student duel :
" A fight was just about to begin. The
combatants, surrounded by seconds, umpires
and friends, had already taken their places
on the floor. Their breasts and thighs were
protected by thick pads, on which the black
blood of former encounters had gathered for
years past. The veins of the neck were
guarded by winding around it a heavy scarf,
Iron goggles, with plateglass windows, con -
coaled the eyes, and the arms were covered
with wadding. The s words were long and
narrow, without points. One of the pair of
warriors, a member of the blue -cap corps,
wee a pale, Bleeder, goodlooking youth, He
never spoke a word or took his eyes off his
adversary. The latter, ono of the red -caps,
was a big, burly fellow, whom the pads
seemed to greatly oppress, perhaps he was
frightened, I don't blame him.
" The surgeon stepped back, looking line
a butcher, in his long white apron, spotted
with blood. There had been another duel
before we came. Tho timekeeper took his
place at a little table. The seconds jumped
into position, each at the left side of his
man, after polite bows to each other in true
German fashion. The fifty or sixty corps
students who were sitting at little tables
around tee room, Dating breakfast and drink-
ing, rose to gee the fight. All was solemnity
and the silence was only broken by some dig-
nified fellow's calling to an acquaintance
clear across the floor and drinking his health,
at the same time bowing profoundly and
lifting his cap. There were a few sharp
words of command repeated by one second
after the other, something like ' Make ready 1
Go I' and in an instant all one could see was
the flashing of the swords and the flying of
sparks, and all one could hear was the regu-
lar 'whack, 'whack,' of the blown. There
seemed to be only one kind of stroke, and
each met the other half way. 'Halt 1' Dries
the fat fellow, and the seconds run up to see
where he is out ; but it was a , false alarm.
They rub him a little and let him sweat a
moment, then at it again. Dodging with,
the head or moving the feet or body is not
allowed, and the left arm must be kept be-
hind the back. 'Whack 1 whack 1 whack 1'
as before, but also a clear swish 1 and the
next moment the blood is running from a
Olean, perpendicular gash in the big fellow's
left cheek.
" About this time I wondered how the
hotel woman could stand it, for she had
been carrying meat and drink from table to
table all the time. I also had occasion to
see a man who had for two seasons boen
punished behind the bat on the Princeton
base -ball nine, and who had risked his life
in one or two ',thanksgiving day foot -ball
games, walk with uncertain step to the win-
dow for a breath of fresh air. It isn't pleas-
ant to see a man's cheek laid open deliber-
ately, The next round proved even more
disastrous for the plump red -cap, for he res
ceived an ugly gash above the eye, which
will go with him as long as the eye itself,
nose, He was out of breath and 1o44
miserable, I went to the window and look-
ed at the clear blue sky and the golden fields,
and wondered why human aooiety must so
torture itself with useless and erne! conven.
tionalitiea. But the fascination of the rain-
ing blows called me back to see the next
round. A halal of interest ran along the
gallery front when the cool little fellow was
seen to get by far the heaviest blow of the
fight across his brow, which was aoon cover-
ed with blood,
"They took off the goggles and the blood
ran into hie eyes, Thou they mopped it up
and he was ready again, and in the next
round gave his opponent another gash on
the left temple. It seemed to me about
time to call a halt for good, and presently
they did. Under the rules a fight lasts fif-
teen minutes of actual fencing, pauses not
counted. With pauses reckoned in, this
must have lasted about forty minutes. The
gladiators carried their bloody heads Into
another room to receive the dootor's atten-
tion,and preparations began for another duel,
I asked a student if either of our bloody
friends had fought before, and he said la-
conoially : 'The little fellow has fought
nine this term.' '
He Wanted to Know.
At Willis a tired -looking woman, leading
a freckled nosed, tow -headed, ten-year old
citizen of the United States, boarded the
train and sat down with a sigh that sounded
like the exhaust pipe of a tug boat. The
boy, stared at. the passengers while he
crowded a green apple into his mouth.
Having stowed the cholera bombshell away
in the secret recesses of his internal econ-
omy, he screwed himself 'Around on the
seat, looked hard at a perspiring fat man
across the aisle, and said :
" Say, maw, why don't the keers go 2"
"Be quiet, Johnny," sai his mother, as
she pulled a red bandanna from` her pocket
and blew a blast on her nose 'that went
echoing and re-echoing down the aisle like
a glad cry of , a full grown Apache with
an important Daae of cholera morbus and
two scalps in his belt. •
"Maw, w'at's that fat man's name ?''
"I dunno."
" W'at maie his hair:come out, maw ? Qh !-
maw : there's a skeeter on his head 1 Does
it hurt fat men when skeeters bite 'em ?"
The woman took an invoice of snuff,
while the boy squirmed around and fixed
his eye on a fashionably attired lady who
was engaged in the classic pastime of churn-
ing a hunk of gum, His lower jaw dropped
two inches as he gazed, and then he poked
^his maternal ancestor in the'ribs andinquired
" Maw, is that woman ohawin' terbacker
W'y don't she spit? You allers spits when
you chows terbacker, don't yer, maw ?
Say, maw, w'y don't the keers go 2"
The woman took another. invoice of
snuff and . remarked :—
" Shut up ! drat ye, or I'll bust ye 1"
That settled him—for four seconds.
Then he gazed at the fat man and
asked :—
" W'at makes that man so fat, maw ? Oh !
maw, he spit on the floor 1 If this was your
house you'd peel him fer it, wouldn't you
maw? Spose he's readin' 'bout Injuns? Say„
maw, w'y don't the keers go 2"
Then he twisted around, got down and
humped himself over the arm of the fat
man's seat and said :—
"Yon aint my .pa."
"No, blast you 1" howled the sufferer;
'if I was I'd shoot you. Now you go and
sit down, and don't say another word or
I'll eat yon,"
The boy winked hard, shuffled hia feet
upon the floor, sidled back into his seat
and remarked:— -
" Me v, w'y don't the keers go 2" '
A Western Voloano.
A volcano has broken forth in the mount,
ains 60 miles southwest of Bishop creek. A
party of frightened sheep herders rode into
Candelaria a few days ago covered with
dust and ashes, and with numerous holes
burnt in their clothing, They reported that
on one day they were startled by an un-
usual rumbling noise and trembling of the
ground. At first they mistook.the noise
and rumble for thunder, but it was quickiy
followed by a tremendous explosion, and on
looking up they were appalled at seeing a
mountain not far away belching forth a
column of flames and smoke several hundred
feet in height, The air was soon filled with
fiery cinders and hot ashes, which came
down upon them in clouds. Tho affrighted
men immediately drove theirsheep to a place
of safety, and rode to the nearest settlement
with the startling news. Several exploring
parties have gone to the scone of the erup-
tion, A bright pink glow noticed in the •
horizon at Virginia city for several nights is
believed to have been caused by the erup+
tion.
A man in a lonely patt of Iowa had brain
fever in oonsequeneo of the death of his wife,
nd on recovering could not remember where
e bad buried her. Dating the interval the
three persons who bad Wedded in the inter-
ent became scattered. Very desirous of
oeating the grave, the widower dug over
ost of a ten -acre field before finding the
a
h
m
Next time his chin suffered, and than hia A remains.