, 1864-03-26
The Pool Under the Bceches.
CHAPTER I.

but a splash in the deep pool, which was
black with overhanging trees and shadows
and a pale moon pecriiis down amongst them
saw what was done, and who did IT,
But we must 60 back ore turn Of the
hour-giass-back to the large house in the
park, whose chimneys in the daytime were
within sight Of the pool, and before those
windows a solitary figure stood looking at
them with the uncertain air Of man who
has purpose, but who scarcely knows how
to accomplish 1t.
And he, the figure, went up into the
glare Of the largest window as it fell out,
far out on. the gravel. Rain had been fall.
ing, but it was over; and the light clouds
drifting away from the moon left her shine
out in pallid contrast to the warmer glare
in which the solitary man stood.
A haggard man he was, with that light
upon him; with bright restless eyes and
sallow cheeks and he crept forward and
put his face to the window. He saw within
the faces which he had known, but out Of
whose books Of remembrance he, whose
life had been but reckless one, was proba-
bly, blOtted. He did not care for that
His gaze rested upon one amongst the
guests, who bore shadOwy resemblance to
himself, without his haggardness, without
the marks Of wild life which lay undefin-
ably upon his own features, yet like him.
But the shutters few up into their places,
and he turned away. In that room there
was no one, after all, whom he cared to
see.
A light breath Of autumn air shook the
drops from the trees, and reached him,
laden with the freshness that follows rain,
but it failed to refresh him. And suddenly
light flashed upon a window to the left,
a shadow passed before it, and then the sash
was raised, aud face leaned out in the still
beautiful night. This was what he wanted
to see for once fate had favored him, and
he sprang forward out of the shade with
cry, in which rang out the pent-up passion
Of sorrow, and longing, and disappoint-
ment,-
"Isabel !"
The figure in the window started, and
turned aside, so that the light might fall
full upon him.
"George-you here?"
"Yes, l am here. Here, where there
is no place and no welcome for me-" said
the wanderer; "where nobody wants me" !"
"You wrong us. There is a welcome
for you. Come in"
"Do wrong you? Do 1? 1t is with
you I must speak, Isabel; l have nothing
to do with the Squire Of Beechwood or his
guests; they don't want a skeleton ut the
feast neither would / have any communi-
cation with that double of myself whose
s MO- h life filings my own back at me as a
taunt. Lat me speak to you"
The Squire's daughter drew back little
from the window. This wandering spirit,
whom she had known from boyhood, should
have OWNED that she was not likely to hold
converse with him in so seemingly clandes-
tine fashion.
"Come into the house, George Redfern,
if you have anything to say"
"To tell you my secret before your
father and his guests Is there no mercy
in you! If l do come in, will you listen
to me in this room, alone, for FIVE minutes 7"
Isabel hesitated, but not long. He was
no burglar. that she should refuse him en-
trance. Moreover, there was that in his
tone, as well as in her own consciousness Of
what she had to say to him, which touched
her with pity. She crossed the hall, and
let him in. s.-al b
"You do yourself and US injustice,
George said Isabel. "Why not come
here as other people dO-as your brother
does 7"
She stopped abruptly. An expression Of
ferocity, which had struggled to be appeal
ing, had come over GeOrse Redf, rms face at
the last word.
"My step brother, you mean; l have no
brother. Well, since you will speak Of
him, be il so. l owe him nothing. What
is the accident Of birth, that it should ell
bow one man aside at every turn to give
place to anothery DO you remember the
pool under the Beechcs!" ..
"Out Of which your brother dragged
you, half drowned! Yes, do"
"Rather where he robbed me Of my
right when you were in danger. If We had
been alone there, would he have lifted fin
ger II save me 7"
"For shame, George"
"Yes, people were looking on; and it
was brave deed. DO you remember the
coppice above the pool !"
"Where saw you strike him unpro-
yoked? remember that, too"
A bright spot had come into lsabePs
,book and she stoOd with one hand upon
the table looking at the intruder, with a
steady CLEAN Of displeasure in her eye.
But hc could not see it.
at was not unprovoked. He stood in
my way then, as always. Was it my fault
that was pennilCsS younger son, that he
should insult me with his advice and offers
of help? Before that day in the coppice
I was an idler, and people have called me
scamp; but since then, for the last two
wears, have worked with steady purpose.
Isabel, what am l 7"
A hard answer rose to IsabcTs lips, but
below all anger and impatiencc against the
headstrong younger brother lay still sub
stratum Of pity for him.
{" A foolish fellow, George Redfern, who
distrusts his friends and nurses an absurd
antagonism against those who are anxious
only for his welfare" &C.,,
George Redfern leaned forward little
with his two hands clasped before her, and