The weekly herald. [volume] (Cleveland, Tenn.) 1876-1888, 1877-05-10

tell the news. Remember the road (?
Aye, every stone Of it, as if had trav-
eled 1t but yesterday. How kind ii was
of you on such a night to come and
meet me. How jolly ! feel to see old
Caithness again. What song is that
May used to sing about there being no
place like hOmeY Neither is there. And
how is May-bess her heart! Older, of
course; and pretty, / will swear"
"Well," all the change you will find
I'm her, Jack, is for the better; and |
have one piece of news that will sur
prise you, perhaps, but / think will
leave it for May herself to tell, or your
own eyes TO read"
Why did John Westmacott start and
grow anXiously nervous for that news
and no other?
"Nay, Doctor" he remarked, "re-
member how long | have been away,
and don't tantalize me. What is ity
Does it cOncern-concern May?"
Eyes, Jack, She is engaged TO be
married."
John WestmacOtt gripped the reins so
sharply that the horse reared. 1t gave
excuse for his temporary silence; then
rather huskily came the interrogation
"TO whom, DOctorY"
"YOur friend, Thomas Mildmay."
"My friend !" muttered the eX-pupil
between his teeth; Course him !" Then
aloud: GLOW long has she been en-
gagged, DoctOr?"
"Only since you have been on your
voyage home, dear boy, or she would
have written to tell you. You will have
to wish her joy"
81 do, and"-but this under his
breath-"him. He has robbed me of
her"
1t was so. John Westmacott had
come back TO the home of his childhood,
the love of his youth. In those days he
had termed her his little wife; laugh
ingly she accepted the title. In nothing
had he been more serious. During all
his absence, while fighting for that for
tune he had realized, amid care and
trouble, one idea had upheld him,-the
to England and marrying
May Westleigh. He had never doubted
that she knew of and reciprOcated his
affection. He had come back to find his
happiness scattered to the winds.
How he went through the evening
that ensued, he never knew. How he
calmly kissed the cheek May in all in
nocence presented to cher brother"
how quietly he listened to the story of
the hOlly-bough; and how he took
Thomas Mildmay's hand, was a mystery
he never unraveled. All seemed the
act Of another person, not himself.
Only when he found himself uneX-
pectedly alone with May, just before
leaving, did he lose his self-control.
out his hands towards her, he
cried bitterly;
'May, why have you thus deceived
me? You knew loved you. Why did
you not warn me of this? Why let me
return to be so cruelty disappointed :?
Why of all men did you select Thomas
who knew my secret? BE is
a crafty coward to have won you from
me; but, by Heaven, he shall rue his
treachery."
"Jackl" exclaimed the girl, pale and
and alarmed, "what do you mean?"
"That love you, May; have always
loved you-must love you to my dying
hour"
Before she had OWNED his intent, he
had taken her in his arms, pressing
kiss on her forehead; then he had
gone, and the girl, full ofgrief, dropped
weeping on chair. A voice aroused
her. Looking up, she beheld Thomas
by her side. His face was
very white, his brow contracted his
lips compressed.
"May," he said, hoarsely, 81 have
heard every word. / was yonder,"
pointing to the conservatory. "What
Is all thisP What does he mean by |
your deceiving himf"
"Tom, l know no more than you;
unless he has taken childish joke in |
Papa shall set him right"
"No; he has called me coward, ac-
cused me Of worse. The task must be /
mine, and the explanation and apology |
must be made tonight"
He moved away. She tried to stay
him, but for once he was deaf to her
voice. The outer door banged, and,
over the snow, Thomas Mild
may followed John Westmacott, who
with persistency for which an old
tutor could not account, refused bed |
at the RectOry, and had started for the
village.
The snow had ceased, but tempest
of wind had arisen; the leafless trees
seemed like wands before it, and the |
waves were heard breaking in bursts |
like thunder upon the shore, not mile |
distant. The sky was clear and drear,
only the earth was white. A mountain
stream, which, when the rains or SHOWS
came, swelled into the dimensions of
river, intersected the road leading from
the rectory to the village, and on this
night it rushed and eddied in whirling
foam between its banks and the sea.
Spanning its flood was rustic bridge,
about which grew few frs and
larchcs.
1t was here that Thomas Mildmay
overlook John WestmacOtt. What passed |
between them we need not minutely re-
count. 1t was accusation and refuta-
ton first, which was speedily fol- |
lowed by angry words, blended with
threats. Then there was blow, a
sharp, short struggle, and one man
quilted the spot, while the other lay on
the rivers bank, with his face on the
snow, motionless and still-by his side
a spray of the holly-branch May West
leigh that morning had gathered,
CHAPTER III.
Not proven, That was the verdict.
John Westmacott, there was good rea-
son to believe, had been murdered,
and by Thomas Mildmay. The two
young men had quilted the rectory to-
gether, each bound for the village.
Only one, however, Thomas Mildmay,
had arrived at the inn, his clothes in
4 ls... IL, Ia tu