Nashville union and American. [volume] (Nashville, Tenn.) 1868-1875, 1871-10-22

the mouse than bis passion began TO cool.
he feit he had behaved foolishly in going TO
MI, Melyille's house. Much as be loved
Aaud--and his tlrobbing heart and moist
eyes showed k0io m1ch-stiIl be had no ex-
cuse for acting as he had done. As a SEN
siole man, be knew that for one person who
would condole with him there would be
any number who would laugh at him and
censure bis rashness. Besides. Mr.. Mel
vile was rich man, and possessed Great
influence in the neighbOrhood, while Ar
thur had only his profession and few
hundred pounds to rely on.
1t is very humiliating to own ones self
fool, but at certain times It Is about the wis
est thing to do, as it assists us in making up
our minds TO improve. Arthur felt this.
and cursing his own folly, determined as
far as possible to avoid the consequences of
il. The ship in which he intended sailing
IN the morning to America lay at seaport
town about twenty miles from Mr.. Melyille's
home. All Arthur's property was ON board,
and everything ready for departure. Eve
rything was done excepting wishing his
brother goodbye; but that was of little
consequence, for this same brother had not
been too affectionate. This being the case,
nothing remained but for him to get on
board as soon as he could, and bid farewell
to his native country for some years, by
which time he hoped to be able to return
and claim Maud, to whom he had, in spite
of all, most unbounded confidence; at all
events, he was hopeful that after so long an
absence his latest folly would surely be for
gotten.
Arthur started off at brisk pace to the
nearest town, where he procured chaise.
in which he soon arrived at the BORT from
which his ship sailed, and before midday he
was watching the cliffs of old England, as
they sank bit by bit in the leaping waters.
Five years had elapsed since Arthur left
England, during which time he had kept
store, been by turns gold digger, merchant,
auctioneer, election agent, and played many
another s'part" in life which he would new
er have dreamed of assuming had he not
taken up his quarters in the New World.
Whatever he touched turned out fortunate
ly. Gold seemed to grow under his hands;
and at the end of these years be had amass-
ed a considerable fortune, and therefore re-
solved to revisit his native land.
He had written once to his brother, but
had received a cold reply, and a severe
lecturing on his presumption at daring to
propose to Squire MelviIle's daughter. His
brother also advised him to remain away as
long as he could, for at present that country
side would be too hot for him. Arthur. no
sooner read the letter than he burned it,
though not without some bitter reflections
on the power of wealth, and a resolution
never to trouble his brother until he had
become rich. Now tAat fortune had smiled
upon him he determined to return home
unannounced, and to see what sort of wei
come he would get from those who did not
know of his good luck.
TWAS dark stormy winters night when
he arrived at the seaport town whence be
had started five years ago for America. The
wind was blowing off the sea in heavy gusts,
bringing with it thick fog and sharp, fine
rain; the roaring of the wind-lifted sea as
it dashed upon the rock-bound shore could
be heard fer miles inland, whilst the salt
spray chung TO the windows of the houses,
covering them with film-like Frost
Arthur Seaforth determined 10 proceed at
once to his native village in spite of the
weather. He accordingly left his baggage
at the hotel, and taking his portmanteau,
hired post-chaise, and in an hour was
riding homewar1s
Onward dashed the pOst-chase, the lamps
glowing in the thick fog like glowworms on
a mud-bank. Over hills, down dales, across
good roads, down bad ones and along mar
row lanes full of mud and ruts, till at length
they emerged on a large black common.
The tired horses, feeling the turf beneath
their feet, became revived and bounded for
ward with renewed energy. Suddenly there
was a jerk, crash, and the carriage was
thrown violently on one side. In moment
the post boy was afoOt, and helping Arthur
out of the carriage.
"What on earth is the matter" he de-
manded.
"The wheel got into hole, sir; couldn't
see in the dark"
- suppose not but in mercy's sake take
care. l have broken my ankle or sprained
it, / can scarcely put my foot to the
ground
1t was too true. He had sprained his
ankle, and although not severely. ii was
sufficient to prevent his walking to the
village.
''What Is to be done now, SIP ?r asked
the post-boy. " / must go into the Village
to get the wheel mended, for it's broken all
to bits ); but you, sir, mustn't stop here, and
you can't walk
81 certainly can't walk five miles," said
Arthur, "though l think an hour or SOS
rest would put me all right. Is there any
water hereabouts Pr
"Sure TO be lots in these hollows, SIR
"Well, Just take my handkerchief, dip il
into some, and then bring it to me-"
The pOst-boy did as he was hidden, and
Arthur bound the wet handkerchief tightly
round his ankle.
"What's that there light?" said the post
boy, half alarmed.
fAs near as | can tell, it must come from
hut or cottage, and if so, can wait there
until you get assistance. At all events, We
must try it; so give me a leg on to this
horse, and then follow me on the other
one"
They soon reached the light, which they
found proceeded from low-roOfed hut that
looked anything but inviting; but Arthur's
foot was still so painful that he determined
to rest there. He knocked loudly at the
door, which, after considerable delay, was
opened by an old wiZen-faced woman, who
listened with vacant stare to the account
of the accident.
81 dinna ken whether your tale be true
or no." she said, when Arthur finished, "an1
it's very uncanny hour to take in stran-
gers"
''But, my good woman, shall only be
here about couple Of hours, by which
time the post-boy viii have procured fresh
carriage, and / shall proceed on my journey.
only want to rest myself for an hour or
so, and you shall be well paidn
The promise of reward seemed to change
the old woman's thoughts. She directed
the post-bOy to the village, and then led
Arthur into a small back room, in one COR
ner of which was low truckle bed.
ats no the.proper time o. night to lie
travelling in" she mnttered, shut l suppose
maun TAX We in; but have neither bite
nor sup to give ye."
81 only want rest, my good woman"
"Weel weel, We can TAX that without
light, and this is a the LIGHT | have in the
house; sac guide NIGHT to you"
Without another word she left the room,
closing the door behind her, and leaving
Arthur in the dark. who, having nothing to
do, began feeling his ankle, which he was
delighted to find was much better; the
sprain had been but slight, although ex-
tremely painful. Having relieved his mind
upon that point, he began musing over his
hostess's want Of politeness, but he was dis
turbed by the sound of voices in the next
room, and turning IN the direction from
which they came, he perceived light shin
ing through a chink of the wall.
s1Hallo!" thought Arthur, "my hostess