The Columbia herald. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 1850-1873, 1872-12-20
telling him of it. but then any stranger
would GO wronc.n,
1.-THE ArpARrrros.

would go wrong.
1.-THE APPARFTIoN.
In the meanwhile our traveller had
safely threaded the complexities of the
entangled path by the alder trees that
led towards the high road. Bare and
white for miles and miles onward
cleaned the high road in the distance.
The road was originally made by the old
Romans, WIN did such work bravely.
shrinking from no difficulties, surmount-
ing every Hill and sounding every valley,
and disdaining the arts by which mod
ern engineers evade natural difficulties.
For time the traveller followed road.
but presently attaining IA eminence he
struck across the trackless wolds in di-
recti0n that, through wild country,
would bring them sooner to his destina-
| ton. At times he listened to the mid
night sounds, for, let rue tell you, in the
stillest nights there are all kinds of
sounds in the quietest country; the
signing winds, the stirs of .'leaf and
bough, the burrowing creatures, the
startled game, each thrill of water, each
several echo. There is something very
| mysterious in that under-current, of life
in the dead Of night in an open lonely
country. Thus our stranger almost au-
dibly soliloquized: .a.-.s-- - -,
/" really think there is something
most depressing and disappointing in
coming back to the scenes Of ones early
days. 1t is quite mistake. The early
days are all a mistake. IF you want to
see whole countryside perfectly dead,
to have every illusion dissipated, to
choke the last fount of feeling, and to
put ashes on the last bit of green, go
back to the scenes of early days. The
brook, that lovely brook, alone is fresh
and musical as when first heard it rip
| pie over its shadows. That old school
is not the same old school that / went to;
it is smaller and poorer; the playground
| is nothing; the school not what it was.
expect the new proprietary schools cut
out. all the old grammar and college
schools. And here so many years of my
early Life was passed-thirty years ago.
before Iwent out to India And here I
first loved Lettice-Lettice, who Tilted
me for one nearer home, widow of the
opulent brewer deceased, of brazen face
and voice, whose virago tongue is the
terror of half the country. There are
only quiet and independence left me in
this world, and I must get what passion
less enjoyment I can out of them. Ny
life has not been happyone. Success
full in appearance it has been failure in
reality. My one great task in life, even
before left Halleybury, was for love.
Love was the one absurd dream on
which / lived for years amid the heats
and colds of Upper-India And when 1
got the letter that told me all was over
l sank into life more solitary than be-
fore; and, save that I loved my work,
and made sons and daughters of the
dusky people I had to look after, and
that might study the stars of heaven
and the herbs of the field, most human
feelings died within me, and L cared
not for man nor women either.f And
then the government quarreled with me
about my annexation, and declared that
l was more friendly to the natives than
to ministerial interests, and so they COM
municated all my claims and got rid of
me. And I suppose I shall have to drill
myself into a machine, eat and drink as
much as I may consistently with the
safety of my liver, live by rule, sleep by
rule-sO much time for rest, so much |
time for reading-no duties, no ties, no
interests-'the long set life and apathe-
tic close I don't think should have
gone back to that wretched old place at
home; but suppose that am pretty |
we'll the test of the Canynge line; and / !
suppose the only thing on earth can /
claim relationship with is the defaced |
old Crusader in the chontry of the parish |
church. And he's hardly more dead
than am"
I do not say that Canynge said all
these things in order as have put them
down. But 1 do as the cunning play |
wrights have ever done-select such
parts of his solilquyc as filings light on
his history.
1t was at this point that Canynge saw
what seemed to be ghost. The coun-
try was one of that nature, that long
chain of hllowy downs rose and fell. fell
and rose, for stretch of many. many
miles. Sometimes tile undulations were !
extremely gentle, but at others the emil
nences rose to some height and sharp |
ness of outlines Canynge hsd come !
down one slope, nnd was passing along
q sheep-path above which lowered |
height Immediately above him figure !
presently startled him, which might well |
occasion an emotion of wonder. 1t was /,
that of female form clothed in perfect |
white;a face clear, cold, pure, and of so
spiritual O complexion that it required |
little imagination to conceive an angelic /
yisitant, unless the profused diamonds |
that spark1ed on her dress might betray !
mundane origin. Her long golden hair |
noated over her shoulders, and her white !
eeck and bosom glimmered through lace !
Embroidery. In spite of his astonish- |
ment, Oanynge mechanically quickened |,
his pace, and in a few minutes was
brought face to face with fair girl who |
was descending the path which he was |
mounting. He saw how accurately his !
eye had OWNED at once the rare type of |
loneliness he had seen, and a hundred
thoughts at once rushed into his mind |
as to what should account for this sud-
den appearance at two o'clock in the |
morning in such attire on these far
away lonely wolds. Had she ran away
from some accident or outrage? had she |
escaped from lunatic asylum or some
unfriendly dwelling? or what could be |
the explanation of this strange event,
occurring thus startingly in the midst of !
his complaints about his monotonous
and stereotyped existence? He hardly
knew how to act, whether to alarm the
maiden by returning to addres her, or
to abstain from taking any notice, and
yet keep her carefully in view. A man
in these circumstance falls back ON |
what one might call his mechanical NOR
ality, the instinct Of the "benefiting"
that has gradually grown up into an ex-
ira sense. Canynge drew back, raised |
his hat, and inquired whether he could |
be of any service,
She laid her white hand on his arm
almost caressingly, and said" Oh yes,
indeed, if you could get back into the
road, and help papa. 1t Will be long
time before we can get help from home"
Presently brilliant burst of laughter
was heard, and two other ladies came
leisurely down the slope of an opposite |
void.
When they saw "a strange gentleman in
confabulation. with their companion,
whom they called Exeline, who had Just |
quilted them, they, came up and told
their story at thst dead hour of night.
The party were coming home from q
ball at great house, and had left some
what early. The story was a very SIM
pie one. They had taken the narrow |
road across the wolds. and the coachman