The Tiffin tribune. (Tiffin, Ohio) 1868-1887, 1870-04-22
THE PE1RL OF GRE1I1
PRICE.
by REBECCA HARDING DAVIS.


horses into the solitary ravine, Squire
Langley drew his rein and glanced
uneasily up at theoId mill. The Doc
tor (I<irllej glanced uneasily up ut tliC
old mill. Then they looked at each
other.
"There are some men who never
seem to be dead, "said Kirkc, hurried
ly. Get ON, Katey."
The Squire laughed dryly. "No,n
after while. alt would surprise me
less TO sceiold Muller standing rs usu-
al in the mill-doOr, with bit Of straw
in his nut-cracker jaws, and the snuff
drabblcd down his waistcOat, than up
yonder among the host of the Lord. :
Considerably less. And il Muller had
his ch'ice, he'd choose the miIl-dOor.
No Oflense to yOu, Doe"
(FOr Muller was dead about three
months ago, and Sidney kirke was 30
marry his daughter tO-mOrrOw.)
''Oh, no offence 10 me. Bart and
her father are different people"
"But, Kirke"-the old man hesitated,
the corners of his flabby mouth length
enmg anXiously-'Pm free 10 say that
| have never seen any laundering after
divine things in the girl"
"No," quickening his horses pace
al have been the sperritOOal father
of most of the young people herea-
bouts, but the world has 10 strong a
holt on Bart for me. Thought TO find
a kindling in her after her fathers
death, but there was none. / pressed
the truth hard on her in class the next
Lords day; and Brother Weymouth
Wrcstled for her in prayer before the
whole meeting. But it all falls off
her, like water or ducks back. [
fear the Lord has hardened her heart.
Permanently
"WhOm He hath chosen, He hath
chosen" muttered the young Presby-
terrain 10 himself. But he did not echo
his companions sigh; the trouble lay
too deep with him. .'.Hat
The old class-leadcr grOaned aloud :
Il shall recommend 10 her To set apart
a week in which TO grapple with the
Lord. Peradventure, she shall save
her soul alive"
| Doctor Kirke did not answer. 1t goad-
ed him that the sensual old shOemak-
er had the right to take, as it were,
| this girls soul in his hand and turn it
over critically, rs if il were diseased
potato. But he had the right, being a
iather i'm the Methodist church.
"NOw, her brother Larremcc' resmn-
ed Langley-"Larrence is a godIy
youth"
Sydney rcjoined heartily: "Lau-
renee Muller has a great genius. His
prayer yesterday made my heart burn
within me. His lips are touched with
Goals from the altarU
''lcs, glory be tO Godm with unc-
ton. They were silent for a while !;
then, with a certain relief in both of
their voices, they began To talk of the
mill. "Why did old Muller never run
the mill: There's money in it,"
"Nluller knew better how to keep
what he had than 10 add 10 il. Folks
i'm the valley used 10 say that in the
darkest nights he stood sentinel in the
door yonder, mumchin@ his bit of
straw. Mosnting guard. Over his
treasure" with a shrcwd look nj sgd
ney and sharp voice, at odd dis
cord with the holy sing-sOng of n mo-
ment before. "Young folks laugh at
that old story of Muller's treasure
But there's something in it; lis no
dream, nor fable either"
"What is there in il ." The young
mans face, when hc turned to listen,
had lost IFS ordinary frank good hum
or. He waited with a stern impati-
ence.
'He don't relish any gossip about
Bart or her people," Thought the old
man. But he'd relish, a pot of gold
for dover, ] reckon" He gave his to-
baceo another chew, and spat leisure
T ~ before replying. "Oh it's uncertain
enough. i doubtif what the old fell
low buried i'm the ground'ti ever come
Opt. Ii the mOles or mildew have
spared it, ail clue TO it is gone"
"What did he bury ?r
"There's different accounts of that.
Muller was a jeweller in the old coun-
Try, and he brought an odd lot Off ings
uEd broken watches here when he
came. There's ones story that it was
rings he hid away about the min an
other that il was \ swOrd-handle stud
ded with diamonds; but the most like
ly tale is that it was an unset pearl
that lac had. Even i'm the rough rs il
was, il made a light like moonlight
sThat is a tale fit for a fairy-booll.u
Kirke laughed with Il touch OF scorn,
and arranged his sandy whiskers com
plaeently about his face. "Ihis ghost
of a treasure is not mentioned in that
will you have i'm your pocket "' G
NO" unwillingly. "Itis not men
toned Directly"
az suppose not. When did you draw
UP that will, by the way, squire ?''
"FOur yearsago. You'll find noflaw
in il"
''The property is so :rifling,l said
Kirke, indiflerently, ''that il might
lIave been 10 the law t0tliVidp equally
between Bart and her brother. In
deed, they have divided il. You were
gone when Muller died, and no one
knew that there wasa Will until yes
terday"
'rhcre is a WILL" said the Squire,
grulliyf 'and the property is not equal
~ divided by it.. I'Hsay, though Bart
Is To be your wife, Doc. Shes well
enough, but a boy like Laurence is not
born once in a hundred years. He
should not have had to grub for his
living If had been his father"
hIrke was silent, and then began To
whistle cheerfully. What did il mat
ter If Muller had left all To his son =
He had clear path chalked out for
himself. His practice was growing
with the town in Ohio where he had
lsettletl: so-mUrrOw lie would turn his
back on this stupid mountain village.
with Bertha. He called her Bertha.
tendeTly, to himself. She might be
"Bartn TO the village; a hdmeiy. ir-
religious girl, held as a lower caste by
. all the bellies of the village; a trife
coarse, perhaps. He granted il ALL
Laurence Muller was fine clay, and
Bart was of the toughest pOtter'sw sware.
Ii had shocked the village-shocked
Sydney Kirke's educated self 20 find
that he loved her.
But he could not do without her
and he had qualm of shame at the
thought.
The October wind had & chill of
winter in it. 1t drifted the crisp yeiI
! low leaves up to their horses knees