New Orleans daily crescent. [volume] ([New Orleans, La.]) 1851-1866, 1857-07-18

kelvne and his male heirs forever, had bestowed q
partnc curse on the fortunate courtier and his heirs
aforesaid, nearly in these words -
thysef ON the spoil Of the Church Of God: but thou
shalt not die in thy bed neither shall thy eldest son
of thy posterity ever live to succeed To the proad,
fair lands Of Beauchamp"
who came to US from my cousins village, and though
Of course knew of the strange fatality regarding the
eldest sons of this family, believed 1t was an oio
womans tale Of wonderment unworthy 81 reeG hs
ton. Nevertheless my opinions on tnat supect nave
strangely changed since then.
After dinner over our wine, the conversation
turned upon timber and some trees which the Old
Rolands having attained his twenty seventh year,
when my melancholy visaged cousin said abruptly,
as though he had just woke up: q.
q Those trees will in few years. be tall and hour
ishing, while am sleeping IN oar old vault nov
ct really do wish you would, for once in your lie,
forget that foolish old story about the Abbotts curse
which seems to overshadow your life"
Father said the young man I've ear are , 81 q rs
sevation has cast gloom over our snug little party
but it is of little avail to blink facts; all OF US know
there is fate hanging over us Maskelynes, and tnat
the Abbots curse has never failed save once sue e
day when the Abbot Of Beauehamp left his lands for
ever. Still, perhaps was foolish to talk OF the
matters too well known already
The conversation dropped but it had lasted quite
long enough to fill my young head with all sorts OF
agne that when retired to rest that night in the
saWhite Room with its paneled walls hung with
stern looking old Maskelynes, "bearded Ike the
pard' and seemingly as fierce and old SWORDS PUCK
iers and aruuebuses, which it would require brave
sportsman to load and fire off now it was to think OF
ANYTHING but slumber. From child had al no
time been Of superstitious turn; STILL that night,
heard the clock strike l. and the last step die away
on the creaking staircase, would have willingly
given all i then possessed to beat home. with no
MaskeIynes to stare me out OF countenance-n no
Beauchamp Abbey with horrible traditions, 70 startle
me from my propriety-and no "Whte Room to
.murder Sleep" i tossed and turned, striving in
vain to sleep. could not; till at last determined to
see if there were any ghosts in Beauchamp Abbey
Roked ha
ever that was fool and still more nervous than
had been before. "This cannot last long, thought
l. sit will soon be morning. will light cigar and
smoke till daybreak.' looked round me room lor a
book-there was none. At last bethought me OF
the cupboard at the end of the room; there found
Burtons sAnatomie Of Melancholie, fit book for
| such time when while glancing over Its pages,
and papers, and long roll of vellum, which soon
| saw was the Maskelyne pedigree. l sat down,
smoked my cigar, and read it through patiently, OBJ.
| serving at the same time that against the name OF
line, and He died before his father and his younger
brother succeeded etc. And SO the legend had some
Foundation in fact could not then reason myself
/ out Of q belief in i'll cannot now.
Day dawned / had smoked my cigar down to the
1 stump--was very tired SO throwing myself on my
bed, fell asleep in my dressings and Shippers
| and awoke the next morning to find Roland at my
/ bedside glance told him how ! had spent the
night the candle burnt out the books scattered oVel
i the floor the dressing gown and slippers left me nc
chance Of asserting had slept well. told him the
whole truth not even emitting the pedigree incident
Roland said nothing, but think looked sadder thar
ever all that day. a.y.. '4.|
4 we went out shooting. A right merry party, save
Roland we were-all save myself being capital shots
and returned home, comfortably tired to good din
4 ner at seven, with some fine old "a afterwards
Leaving the wine-bibbers to their talk of green seals
and rare vintages wine and wanuts, my cousin and
stroed out across the park cigar IN mouth and iron
Il that night began most cordial friendship. A de
lghtnl companion (when forgetting that fearful des
4 tiny) was my poor cousin Roland. From boy h
had always been lover of literature, and at schoo
q and college had always shown himself to be NAL
not only Of refined mind but vigorous intellect;
.'noble mind was indeed 'soverthrown" here by
please life which might have shed luster on hi
age was indeed wasted when Roland returned from
Oxford to Beauchamp, where, leaving behind hin
the generous emulation and glorious thirst OF know
edge Of better days. he had nothing on which to ia
back hut field sports, hum'dram country society, I'M
i / gloomy forebodings. was a boy them fear an
little more nowand, boyke, one Of the first thing
\ told MY newly discovered counsin-iriend, was tn
=
!. Perhaps told the tale well--perhaps earnestnes
atones for the power Of narration-at any rate, h
seemed, as thought, affected by what said. ha
6 Jared upon weak chord. perhaps. had Away
heard that Roland was very Maskelyne in his natur
8 proud and reserved to fault was not so. Ths
night as we walked across his fathers park undo
the old ancestral elms, heard from his lips how,
an evil hour of unguarded passion, he had sacrifice
the virtue Of village girl of owy birth, but rearl
ii able beautyone in all respects worthy of bettt
l. fate-and had by her son, whose birth, thanks
the udicious removal of the fair trail one under son
" pretext or other to London had been hitherto kept
secret. Their child died. fortunately for both, al
s nothing known Of the matter by Rachels frient
u at that time. Rachel Brooke was the only daught
le of a shall farmer in parish adjoining Beaucham
t. and at the period speak of here, was residing wit
two miles from the Abbey. Now, Roland was,
X seems in the habit of paying clandestine visits
es poor Rachel, whenever he thought her father al
IS brother were away asleep. 1t happened, howev,
n one night when the old farmer was away from hon
that Roland was sitting in the farmers kitchen wit
out light with Rachel at his side, when, hearing
lie sound ontside he went to the window to listen,
al had hardly sat down again, when in stalked an al
at letc Young man with gun under his arm, as Roa
a and Rachel could see by the moonlight streaming
D! through the open door. 1t was her brother Geor
who had as was his custom, been out on some poa'
ne ing expedition with some disrepntabe characters
m the village as lawess as himself and now returned
d. the Abbey Woods to find the heir OF Beauchamp
We his fathers kitchen, at his sisters side.
'sWhat means all this, young squire n asked Brot
=. hoarse)y. Maskelyne said nothing-litte could
ht saidere the poacher went in tones of tastincre
' as ing passion
er; "We may be poor folks, and you may be a fine 8
ha tleman to ruin il it is not already ruined
,ry poor girls peace Of mind; but mayf-here be sw
~. oath too fearful to be written downf this nil
lea do not hear from your lips why you SPEAK
me villainw
cs Maskelyne's sole reply was scorntul smile.
"Speak, Rachel went he on wildly, why con
~ this young squire, when father is away, to sit h
~ through the night with your"
'u,s She was too much ashamed to speak-she co,
ms not.
e HAnd did risk my life three years ago to save
e ". from drowning in the miller's pool yonder but
W this-for this-for my sister-the living Likeness
=7 my poor dead mother to be"
itv .Spare me, George said she-when, Kissing
Of through his teeth bitter word, which brought
red blood in one red bushto the young girls brow he fe
rth her savagely to the EARTH In instant his thu
: was grasped by Roland-a fierce struggle ensr
: Maskelyne was the more powerful man, and Bro
for was every second getting the worst OF the cont
ing when by sudden effort, he shook of Roland's gr
is and rushed madly out into the field, shouting W
y- he stopped
,ors eve shall meet again, Roland Maskelynei Cur
aer like birds, fly home to roOst take mine, and rem
Der the Abbotis''