The Portland daily press., 1875-05-31
From the London Monthly Argosy.l
Margaret Rymer.

Margaret Rymer.
They had gone through the snow to even
ing service at North Crabb, the Squire, Mrs.
Todhetly, and Ted, leaving me at home with
one of my splitting headaches. Thomas had
come in to ask if I would have the lamp, but
/ told him would rather be without it. So
there sat alone, beside the fire, listening TO
Hannah putting the children to bed up stairs,
and looking sleepily out at the snowy land
scape.
As the fire became dim, sending the room
into the gloom, the light outside grew strong
err. The moon was high; clear and bright as
crystal; what With that, and the perfectly
White snow that lay on every thiHg. the
night seemed nearly as light as day. The
grass plat outside was smooth white
plain, the clustering shrubs beyond it being
also white.
The room grew darker, the landscape light
er, Asleep, in another minute, should in
eyitaby have been. but for circumstance
that suddenly arose. All in a moment-I
saw, not snow or whence 1t came-a dark hg-
ure appeared on the grass plat, close before
the bank of shrubs, right in front of me; the
figure of man, wrapped in big great-coat.
He was standing still and gazing 6xedly at
the house. Gazing, as it seemed Though that
was impossibe) at me. l was wide awake at
once and sitting bolt upright in the chair.
Yet there could be no mistake; and it was
no delusion. The man was tall man, strong
and bony, with a mass of hair on his face.
What could he want? Was it robber recon-
noitering the premises, peering and peeplng
to ascertain whether all the world was at
church before he broke in to rifle the house?
No one, void of such an experience, can
imagine how dark he looked, standing there,
amid the whiteness of all the scene around.
In one sepse, he stot out more plainly than
he could have done by daylight, because the
contrast was greater But this kind of light
did not show his features, which were shroud-
ed in obscurity.
Presently he moved. His head went this
way and that, and he took step forward.
Evidently he was trying to see whether the
parlor where l sat was empty or occupied.
Should I 20 out to him? Or should fling up
the window and call out to ask what he
wanted? was not frightened, don't let any
body think that; but the watching of him
brought to me rather creepy kind of sensa-
ton.
ASH left the chair quietly to open the win
dow, heard the latch of the garden gate,
and somebody came whisting up the path.
The man vanished as if by magic. While l
looked, he was gone.
.sAnybody at home" called out Tom Co.
ney, as he stopped his whistling and opened
the hall door.
"All right. Tom. Come along"
And, TO tell the truth, was not sorry to
see Toms hearty face. He had stayed away
from evening service to sit with his mother.
II say, Tom, did you see any fellow on the
snow there"
"Where?'
'sThere; close before the shrubs And i
told him what had happened. Tom, one of
the most practical fellows living, with less
imagination than an ostrich, received the ac-
count incredulousy.
lyon dropped asleep, JOHNNY, and fancied
It,"
81 did not drop asleep, and did not fancy
it. When you came into the garden 1 was
about to open the window and call to him."
"Those headaches are downright stupefy-
ing things, Johnny. Jane has them, you
know. One day, l remember, she fell asleep
with bad one, and woke up and said the
sofa was on fire."
"Tom, tell you, that man was there. A
TALL strong looking fellow with beard. He
was staring at the house with all his might
at this room, as it seemed 20 me, wanting to
come forward, 1 think, but afraid to. He
kept close to the laurels, as if he did not wish
to be seen; forgetting, perhaps, that they
were white and betrayed him. When you
opened the gate hewas there"
ITS odd, then, where he could have put
himself" said Tom Coney, not giving in an
inch. "Tll VOW not a soul was there, man or
woman, when came up the PATH"
That's true. He vanished in moment
While I was looking at him he disappeared"
"Vanished! Disappeared! Your words
pply to ghost, Johnny"
'Ghost be banged! 1t was some ill-doing
tramp, expect, trying TO look and see if he
might steal into the house."
'.Much you know of the ways of tramps,
Johnny Ludlow! Tramps don't come show
ing themselves ON snow lighted open lawns in
the face and eyes of the front windows. They
hide themselves in obscure hedges and by
ways. It's case of headachy sleep, young
man."
"Look here, Tom. If the man was there,
his footprints will be there; if he was not, as
you say, the snow will be smooth and level;
come out and see."
We went out at once, Tom catching up
stick in the hall, and crossed the lawn. Sure
enough, there were the footprints, plenty of
them, indented in the deep show. Tom gave
then.
81 wish to goodness had seen himl The
fellow should not have got off scot-free can
tell him that. What tremendous feet he
must have! Just look at the size, Johnny.
Regular crushers."
Don't you go and say again was asleep!
He must have stepped back and got away
from these laurels; here are the marks. l
say, housekeeping my voice to whisper
-''perhaps he's here now"
''We'll soon see that" said Tom Coney
plungiDg amid the laurels with crash, and
beating about with the stick.
But there was no trace of him, and we |
went in, Tom veerirg round partly to his |
fist opinion, in spite of the footprints.
IF any man was there, Johnny, how did |
he get away? don't see for my part where |
he could possibly have gone. A thief would |
have gone to work in different manner"
swell, let it 60 so. shall say nothing |
Mrs. Todhetley's timid, you know; she'd |
fancy the man was outside still, and be lying |
awake all night, listening for the smas hing |
in of doors and windows"
Cracking the fire into blaze, I called |
Thomas to light the lamp and shut the shut
tiers. When told of the affair, bidding him
not mention il, he took different view of ii |
altogether, and put it down to the score of
one of the younger maid-servants.
They've got sweethearts, Master Johnny, |
the hussies have-lots of sweethearts. One |
or other of 'em is always siding sheep-faced
up to the house, as though he didn't dare TO
call his legs his own.''
Nothing more was said about the man;
and Tom Coney-who stayed to supper
held our tongues as agreed upon. But told
Ted in going up TO bed. He was sleepy, and
did not think much of it. When related, it
did not seem TO be much. They had not seen
1t.
Timberdale Rectory was coy, old-fash-
Toned house, its front walls covered with ivy,
and standing by itself amid pasture land,
fields length from the church. Mrs, Tod |
betty sent me there on the Monday morning
to invite the Rector, Herbert Tanerton, and
his wife to dine with us the next evening off
a prime Goldfish from London. The Squire
and Ted had gone out shooting. 1t was JAN
lary weather; cold and bright, with frosty
sky. Icicles dropped from the trees, and the
snow in Crabb ravine was above my ankles.
The master had said, Il should 60 tie road
way Johnny" but did not mind the snow.
In Timberdale met Margaret Rymer She
had her black cloak and bonnet on, and the
gentle and refined face, with its mild brown
eyes, put me more than ever in mind of her
aher.
dare say nobody remembers her. But |
told something about her ard her people a |
oDg while ago. Thomas Rymer, gentle
N a horn hut M n xuaS bout L