The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1885-04-18 00:00:00

SATURDAY. APRIL iS 1885

[ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.]
STRTATV
_ZI.J AND THRIVE.

CHAPTER X.
tt THE SUCCESS OF THE SCHEME.
free, e next morning Ebenezer Mink breathed more
de.. 3'; and when, two days later, he saw the ship
er.t which bore the Mallows family away from
ncan soil, he felt that he was at last master of
'46 POSitioll
EoPantatZiej was. failing even faster than Eben had dared
:.:ipate, and without any signs of a return to a
State of mind. It had been designed to keep
Iniollawihzin9 during the brief remnant of his life, all
tiered ed.,,,ge of the appalling calamity which had ren-
ts, 'nil Childless; but when some officious and in-
tvitireet friend tried to disclose it to him, the old man
ced i
no emotion' ' and probably, did not compre-
nd the td•
The ,•
ings.
Auneral of Arthur Sibbald and his wife had been
from their own house; and, among the
'lll7ler °lls friends and relatives whom the occasion
together, there were none to doubt or question
slice
ession to the great estate.
ell kink was the heir-at-law, was by all acknow-
as
~
such, and was treated with corresponding
V;;ideration ; yet it was well understood that Mink
/ettpnii° favourite of old Mr. Frazer, and that the
; Of the latter to a sound state of mind, if such
liros,llg Were possible, would still be fatal to the
liTts of Eben.
, of th °lne of the distant relatives and other friends
e Millionaire still indulged the hope of such a
0, a few weeks put an end to their anticipations.
closed the career of the rich man, and Mr.
' 111 Q after giving him a pompous funeral, entered
It 1311al1tIS, upon the possession of his estate.
holibi-v.,en's conscience had hitherto given him some
ksks„'e -Lit relation to the part he was playing, it now
1114Lto do so. Success had silenced his fears and
tElari-intills moral perceptions. He resolved to be
4th L'ule, and to make amends for a single fault by
,ild good deeds.
mo little Arthur," he said to Honora, "he will
Profit by the change. He will never know
-sland he will grow up a hardy, healthy son of
ktn„,--s'ead of the pampered child of luxury. I have
ereal. ao doubt at all that we have done him the
it,,est of favours."
4%14 o"Tell, it's quite a consolation to think so," said
, Placidly.
i'elniont was compelled to remain a little longer
twai,e Metropolis than he had intended, in order to
ti‘ necessary remittances from home.
tf to. ef. did not seek society; he had lost the-few letters
l'oe°duction which he had intended to use in New
'and Mr. Walworth's family, together with a
thei°f their intimate friends, whom he had met at
constituted about all of his acquaintances
kiritaaty.
°Lilt was lively and animated in conversation,
n'is cheerful moods, was one of the most fasci-
tooe Of men. He pleased without effort. A genuine
,Vortignature seemed to influence all his actions and
4-cla 1,,'; and undisguised as was his admiration of
'
ton;'s Mode of exhibiting it left no ground for mis-
Na`ruction. He was not a suitor, and she did not
k.,„tht,,d,llltn as such; Howard, indeed, although not
~,rast degree supercillious, seemed to look upon
„one, o"alworth as almost a child—a very- winning
vivertainly. Yet our Nestor was himself scarcely
3'.four years old.
„
tile time of Eda's first acquaintance with her
Eler Preserver, there was, doubtless, danger that
qatitude to him, mingled with her admiration
kore many attractive qualities, might grow into a
iilh,'adearing sentiment; and this peril was cer-
'llat'shilet diminished by her utter unconsciousness
• Was exposed to it. That she could ever love
• or that she could be presumptuous enough
44ei.;dvect such a suitor, were propositions equally
tlf lilible to this modest maiden. Being convinced
l'atito-; security in these respects, or, rather, being
he Unsuspicious of danger, she indulged freely
iacinairation of her father's friend and visitor.
t• iciri7d anxiously for his coming; she regretted
ttay. eof his departure; and all the hours of his
.4 ere hours of happiness to her.
Mother or a sister would, doubtless, have per-
,4ltiecin, Poor Eda's danger, and would have warned her
er against the spell which was being laid upon
1,134-ttisPecting heart.
(1,;"r. Walworth was not wise in these matters;
tiete'llgliter was quiet and reserved in manner, and
t4rt,::er dreamed of the influence passing events were
‘eg upon her.
ktteearstlY four weeks had passed since Belmont's
txpeotT.dad been sent to England, and he was daily
answers to them. His departure on his
'he travels was to follow almost immediately on
eiPt of these dispatches.
ird been nearly a month on terms of friendship
k!'cliihVe Walworths who had scrupulously avoided
to--dt;tl. any curiosity as to his family or his
vo, sew? out who, he knew, might reasonably be sup-
taoollt ~‘"° feel an interest in these subjects. He was
tie '() leave them, perhaps never to return. Could
1113011,, B,o.Without imparting to them some information
niinself, that should dissipate the air of mys-
the
0. his part, ,anvoloped him?
I,aNvery necessity for extending an invitation to Mr.
.I.vorth to visit him, in the improbable contingency
",%
ever travelling in England, seemed to require
ortia atadskisclaosure. There were reasons which rendered
delicate one; but an incident which
teliQf,r,red during one of his last visits to his friends
'red him, in some degree, of his embarrassment.
I_,C residence of the Walworths was a cottage,
'
~'unded by an ample garden, on which much care
labour had been bestowed.
ierbnard had dined with his friends, and was saun-
brisog,,with them in these grounds, when, to his sur-
itg tLuds servant, Hugh M'Cann, was seen approach-
the front gateway, with rapid §tep, and
, Whall aPpearance of no little excitement.
4,1,n, he had come up he said hastily—
lli the latthers is come, iv you plaze, master."
trea.i:L!e letters, eh ?" replied Belmont, with an air of
kre th:t the same extending his hand. "Where
3
totA:e not got 'ern, sure; they're in the office, in the
nY, you booby!"
blire, and it's the man at the bar is that same.
,Les.ils,,'°t, give 'ern to me, at all, widout your orders,
Inov; theY're furrin letters, he said, and he didn't
What mightn't be in 'em. I tould him they
•krta• llot furrin at all, but they were right from ould
Coat ; and I showed him Lord Belmont's own seal
" -iv-arms on the big one."
Zaiii.n•
qu what said he to that ?" asked Howard,
"qietlicisg: and rather enjoying the evident suprise of his
t said then I couldn't have 'em the more for
(4to',a,nd he put 'em back on the shelf ; and I jumped
htee stage, and rid up to tell ye, and to say that
.44 Myer git 'em at all, Pm thinkin'."
ever fear," said Belmont, laughing; "I'll give
11N44 order for them, and you can bring them to me
t'llr, er
e'thilut I expected only a single package; are you
e are two?"
tltti,lB,---a little thin, white one, with the natest,
ii Writhe on it, like a leddy's, and directed, the
ald, to the Honourable "
rwElile7er mind how it was directed. Wait here,
go hi and write a line."

CHAPTER XL
1.71 t, TAXES LEAVE OF HIS FTENDS.
I,IIII;i4tIVO'TH and Eda had necessarily heard the
(;'l,ll:ll4„*Atig of this conversation, and although they at-
-11'440 to Withdraw, after perceiving its personal
igptii ;ter, Mr. Belmont had stopped them, assuring
'"at there were no secrets involved which it was
110V'tato/it,to keep; and when he had written a brief
despatched Hugh with it, he returned to his
1,41 tare so soon to part," said he, "perhaps not
Kb' 4gain ; our acquaintance was brought about
I,‘4ll4'lextraordinary means, and you have since laid
Cie...ll:ler so many obligations, that I should do wrong
_ e a-Pa the same stranger that came. x
'Qr.
r'ght t know something of me, for you have
ttlitaa htne o
Your friendship, and indeed your confidence,
c,` Y Points"
Certhiri .ly correctly anticipate our wishes,"
walworth, smiling. "I feel, indeed, as if I
st.pebtitled to know something more of the pre-
It'3j 4137 children."
s little that I have to tell," replied Howard,
' I),;,:khs'otiblat little you shall know. The Lord Belmont
tld,:`, You have just heard my servant speak, is
tsr tor' brother, an English baron. Our father, the
k„ d Belmont, died about three years ago,
la 'Be, his title and the bulk of his estates which
"1') 'rge, Passed to his eldest son. He made, how-
i4lllifficient provision for me, which has since
eased by the liberality of my brother, who 7 .s
44b;liev.„ and who, like myself, is an invalid e
cillaken his seat in Parliament, but spends his
en his principal estate, where our father
Where our mother, who still survives, lives
th 1
l a-Land watches over his welfare. When I am
145,s'e y 4 of course I reside with them; but for
—clatlit-n,'N I have been almost a constant traveller—
(l• 30-hs hut an occasional month at home
4i el Lord Belmont's physicians advise him also
t 0
iCy
44
rm° ; and they point to my improvement as a
"Pe 111Daent in favour of such a course. But
14
hQi ' es his and his English comfort, and he
.ev ease
t e, unwilling to forego thesociety and care
14Qr 1,,e; whose age and infirmities do ;not per-
t, alw „freompany him abroad."
hj ligcli—sh4.l knew that many of the younger sons of
Irtlp N 81) nobility were educated for the Churcl!,
aseeting from the tone of his friend's senti-
Ne;:pressed on many occasions, that such was
11, NNB e
tar ventured to make the inquiry.
tphi, s
erne years designed for the Ministri,"
ing " hut after six months of theological
Ato 4tiztit. ,57 Physicians interdicted further study.
(4`it has since b considered my de,stinatidn,
,N,; ipha.ble thatelenshall soon enter It."
MYoitc a5.,,r4" said Mr. Walworth, "if Hugh has
.Illoiat.e,,6"l,Panion on all these journeys?
a.s he replied : ,t
ti;111 serc, au but tar less
1/111,,T 4iodearniitii!a InY Eastern travels a more accomplished
who spoke most
"ie
44,1 ered anguages, was painfully polite, and
ytta on
4 . Hugh was an old
'arrillY all occasions.
servant. 'who begged hard to

come wi me, and ivho was also desironS to look up
some Aatives in America, which, I believe, he re-
gardxl as a country about as large as his native
couAty. My friends tried to dissuade me from bring-
ing him, thinking he would brillg discredit on me;
but I have abundant reason to b: satisfied with my
determination."
When the letters came nearly two hours* later,
Howard opened them without apology, and read
enough of their contents to inform himscaf on the
only point about which he was at all solicitous, the
health and welfare of his friends at home.
The intelligence proved satisfactory, and an en-
closed duplicate of his lost letter of credit gave him
immediate control of all the funds he required. Eda
was, perhaps, not conscious that she derived a secret
joy from observing that the smaller letter was opened
last—was rather glanced over than fully perused, and
that Mr. Belmont evinced no extraordinary interest in
its contents.

"My friends are in their usual health," he said,
when he had put away the papers. "They know
nothing yet of my personal danger or exposure in the
recent accident, for I preferred not to shock them
with the tidings until I could be present to make them
certain of my entire safety."
He did not allude farther to the subject, but, after
a social evening, took his leave, promising to see his
friends once more before his departure from the city.
His final visit was on the second ensuing day. In
compliance with a wish which had been rather hinted
at than expressed by Mr. Walworth, who naturally
desired to have a likeness of the preserver of his
children, Howard brought with him a finely exe-
cuted photograph of himself, and presented it to his
friend.
"I should like," said he at the sir. time, " to show
my friends at home the portraits of those who were
the sharers of my perilous adventure." While speak-
ing he pointed to a faithful and very beautiful picture
of Eda and her brother, which adorned the mantel,
and which he had often admired. "If you can spare
this, I shall consider it a great favour to be allowed to
take it."

_
"Of course, you are most welcome to it," replied
Walworth ; "I should have offered it to you if the
thought had occurred to me."
" Eda says nothing," resumed Howard; "I ought
not to take it without her consent."

Miss Walworth smiled and slightly blushed, as she
replied—
"l shall, certainly, be most happy to give it to you,
though, I fear, it will only serve to recall that terrible
scene the more vividly to your mind."
"It shall recall many other and pleasanter hours, be
assured," answered Howard. "And, now, what says
Franky?"
"/ don't care; you may have it, if sister says so.
I would a great deal rather have that," said Frank,
gazing on the large photograph of Belmont.
"Oh, you would, eh ?"
"Yes, sir; I'd rather have that picture than any
other—except one."
Frank hesitated and coloured, and it was only after
much urging that he replied—" Carl's."
A loud laugh from Howard followed this confession;
and Frank fairly leaped for joy when he learned that
1-e was to have this picture, and that it was to be
entirely his own.
Mr. Walworth, who knew that Belmont designed to
hunt bears, buffaloes, elks, and other large game upon
the prairies, asked him if he expected to find Carl
serviceable in such sport.
"Not in the least," lie replied ; "Carl is a friend
and companion. Ido not expect any aid from him,'
unless I should take to shooting water-fowl; but I do
not intend to let my ambition descend so low as that
while lam in your noble country. If I can shoot a
buffalo, it will be the making of my reputation at
home; and as to a grizzly bear —but that is really a
dazzling distinction which I do not openly aspire to."
"I do not think it very improbable that your wishes
may be gratified in regard to the monarch of the
western wilds. The Rocky Mountain grizzly, you are
probably aware, is not so large or ferocious as the
Californian species; but—"
"I know it, but they are big enough for my ambi-
tion, and if I could carry home with me the stuffed
skin of one of these monsters, slain by myself, I am
sure a thousand pounds would not buy the trophy of
me." _

Mr. Walworth parted very reluctantly with his
young friend, who promised to write to him before
quitting the outposts of civilisation, and, of course, to
see him again if he should return to New York.
A few hours after his departure the canine portrait
w.:as received, and with it a box containing some other
valuable presents, and among them a beautiful watch
and a set of costly jewellery for Eda.
CHAPTER XII.
AN ARDENT CHASE.

IT is not necessary tO our story that we should speak of
Mr. Belmont's travels in the States east of the Mis-
sissipi. He made some stay at St. Louis, and was
fortunate in procuring the services of an experienced
hunter, a man almost as shaggy as the buffaloes and
bears it had been his business for many years to pursue.
This hunter promised to conduct him across the
prairies, and over the Rocky Mountains, too, if he
desired it, by a route that should ensure him a sight of
every variety of their inhabitants. _
The guide was a man upwards of fifty years of age,
hale and active, and with all his faculties apparently
unimpared. He was compact and muscular, of little
more than the medium size, not by any means power-
ful, but, as he described himself, "mighty tough."
He wore a full beard, which, like the hair of his head,
was partly grey, and very coarse and straggling, and
gave him at times almost as wild an appearance as
that of the animals he hunted. His name Belmont
really never knew, further than the soubriquet of " Old
Noll," by which the hunter was introduced to him,
and by which he desired to be called.
They travelled in company with two additional
sportsmen, who were selected by Noll from some
former comrades of his own. These were I4oth lithe
Iroung men, nearly as tawny as Indians; and one,
although yet under twenty years of age, had killed a
grizzly, and wore a cap made of its skin, as a per-
petual memorial of the achievement. Some one had
given him the name of Nimrod, in compliment to his
prowess, and by this appellation he was introduced to
the Englishman; but Noll usually perverted this desig-
nation into Ramrod, in playful allusion to his lanky
build. His Companion was plain Tom; and with
these men, and, of course, his servant Hugh, and the
faithful Carl, Belmont set out on his travels._

The adventures of the Englishman and his party
during the first four days of their travel, although
full of interest to himself, were not sufficiently marked
to justify recital; and we should scarcely have fol-
lowed him to the wilderness, if his experience there
had been confined to the usual successes and dis-
appointments, surprises and alarms, which mark the
career of the novice in prairie sports.
He had shot a few turkeys and other wild fowl, he
had twice brought down his antelope, but he had not
yet seen that object of his longing, "a gang of buffa-
loes." On an afternoon of the second week of his
journey, this wish was gratified. They were slowly
passing a strip of timber-land, that skirted the bank
of a water-course for a few miles, when Noll, who
was as anxious to be the first to espy a herd as
Howard was to bring one of them down, announced
the "distinguished arrival" which all had so earnestly
desired'

_
The unassisted eye bould as yet see nothing but a
haze-like cloud in the direction indicated by the
hunter; but when Belmont took the glass, he caught
sight of the leaders of the approaching gang.
All was feverish excitement now, and every pre-
paration was made for the chase, although it was not
considered improbable that a party of Indian
hunters might be in .the rear of the game. Yet
their rapid progress did not necessarily indicate
pursuit.
"They may have been alarmed by something
else," said Noll, "for they may be runnin' for the
mere fun of the thing. But Injins or not, I'm in
for a buffalo—that is to say, unless you object,
capting ! "
"Not I," replied Howard. "Only let me bring;
down one of those monsters, and I'll risk the conse-
quences."
Howard was of course mounted on the fleetest and best
trained horse in his little cavalcade, and he was an
accomplished rider. Hugh was a tolerable horseman
and a, fair shot, but he was really afraid of the buffaloes;
and in this condition he was not likely to do any very
effective duty as a sportsman.
The others were forbidden to leave the waggon con-
veying the necessaries of the party to join in the
chase, it being feared that the Indians were at hand.
Howard became greatly excited as the monstrous
animals drew near. He Was prepared for three shots,
one with his principal weapon, which he called "Tiger
Slayer," and two with his double-barrelled rifle.
Leaving the latter weapon at his horse's side, he dis-
mounted to get a truer aim with his heavy gun, feel-
ing confident that he should bring down his bison,
however large, if he could plant one of his two-ounce
balls in its body.
The herd, which proved not to be very large, passed
within a short distance of the spot, and if not with
the headlong fury which marks their progress in the
spring of the year, still at great speed and with a
deafening noise.
Howard again and agaifi singled out his mark with-
out firing, for the animals darted past him like the
wind, while. he was trying to make ceitain of a fatal
Noll had already' fired, and, shouting out, "A
good hit by thunder !" • had leaped ltipoif tiis horse,
and star,tedp.Nvith a lasso, in pursuit of a cow,that
he had brought to her knees, but which had risen and
plunged onWard, marking her track with blood. Even
Hugh had discharged his piece, futilely, indeed, and,
at the old hunter's bidding, had foflowed him out to
0,
assist in securing the wounded animal; yet, still
Belmont hesitated, until the rear of the gang was
close at hand. At length, singling Oa from 'thole
that were still approaching the largest and sliaggiest,
he took as deliberate aim as his excitement would.
permit, and fired. The beast received the ball, seemed
•to be staggered a moment by the blow, and then, with
a loud, bellowing roar, ran wildly. round. •for 40077.
seconds, while the remainder of the•glahag.rushed by.
Then, suddenly dashing off, the wounded bull went
bellowing across the plain.
Belmont leaped upon his horse as soon as he had
fired, and without stopping to reload his German gun,
gaire chase. Believing that the wounded animal must
soon drop or falter sufficiently to admit of a chance of
a more effective shot. he rode forward for miles,

.g more and more widely from the route of
the main body of the buffaloes, which were soon lost
to his sight, as was the belt of timber land from which
he had advanced. In his great excitement he took no
note of tinie, nor of his route. He saw but one object,
the terrified brute, still rushing on madly before him,
and for the time had no thought or wish except to
bring down this magnificent game.
The bison's great strength seemed atlast giving out;
he ran more heavily and on a more devious course,
and finally turning nearly at a right angle to his pre-
vious route, started eastward, as if again in pursuit of
his lost companions. In turning, the brute presented
the whole side of its broad body as a mark, and
Belmont leaped from his horse, with his double-
barrelled rifle in his hand, having slung the larger
weapon in its place at the side of his saddle. With
but an instant's delay he fired, and to his inexpressible
delight, saw the monster stagger forward, and fall
heavily to the ground. Without advancing, he care-
fully re-loaded both his guns, and then whistling to
his well-trained steed to follow, ran up to the
struggling animal, planted another ball in its body,
and quickly finished the work of destruction
.with his
knife.
(To be continued.)