The Middlebury register. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1850-1882, 1881-06-17
BY wILKIE COLLINS.
CHAPTER u.-CONTTNUED.

The tick-tick of the clock on the
mantlepiece steadily registered the pro.
gress of time, and Winterfeld's fantas.
tic attentions were still lavished OH his
dog.
Even Father Benwells patience was
sorely tried when the good country
gentleman proceeded to mention moi
only the spanieps name, but the occa,
sion which had suggested it,
eve call him Traveller, and l will
tell you why. When he was only a
puppy he strayed into the garden at
Beaupark, so weary and footsore that
we concluded that he had come to us
from distance. We advertised him, but
he was never claimed and here he is
IL you don't object, we will give Trav-
eler treat to-day. He shall have din
ner with u.s."
Perfectly understanding these words
the dog jumped off his masters lap, and
actually forwarded the views of father
Bedwell in less than minute more.
ScamperiDg round and round the
room, as an appropriate expression Of
happiness, he came into collision with
the table and directed Winter
fields attention TO the letters by scatter
ing them on the 1lOOr.
Father Benwell rose politely TO asst st
In picking up the PROSTATE correspon-
dene. But Traveller was beforehand
with HIM. Warming the priest, with a
low growl, not TO interfere with anoth-
er PERSONS business, the dog picked up
the letters i'm his mouth, and carried
them by installments to his masters
feet. Even then the exasperating Vim
terfield went no further than patting
Traveller. Father BenwelPs endurance
reached its limits.
"Pray don't stand on ceremony with
me-" he said. 81 will look at the
newspaper while you read your let
ters.".
Winterfeld carelessly gathered the
letters together, tossed them on the din
ing-table at his side, and took the up
permost one of tho little heap.
Fate was certainly against the priest
on that evening. The first letter that
Winterfield opened led him off TO an
other subject of conversation bofore he
had read 1t to the end. Father Ben
wells hand, already in his coat pocket,
appeared again-empty.
"Here's proposal to me to go into
parliament" said the squire. "What
do you think of representative institu-
tions, Father Bcnwellp To my miud
representative institutions are on their
last legs They vote away more of our
money every year. They sit helpless,
while half dozen impudent idiots stop
the progress of legislation from mo-
tives of the meanest kind. And they
are not even sensitive enough to the
national honor to pass social law
among themselves which make 1t as
disgracefnl in q gentleman to buy seat
by bribery as to cheat at cards. de-
clare l think the card-sharper the least
degraded of the two. He doesn't en-
courage his interiors to be false TO a
public trust. In short, my dear sir,
everything wears out in this world
and why should the house of commons
be an exception to the ruler"
He picked up the next letter from
the heap. AS he looked at the address
his face changed. The smile left his
lips, the gaiety died out of his eyes.
Traveller, entreating for more notice
with impatient forepaws applied to his
masters knees, saw the alteration, and
dropped into respectfully recumben.
position. Father Benwell glanced
sidelong off the columns OF the newspa-
per, and waited for events with all the
discretion and none Of the good faith of
the dog.
Forwarded from Beauparkr Vim
terfield said 10 himself. He opened
the letter, read 1t carefully TO the end,
thought over 1t, and read II again.
"Father Benwell" he said, sud
denly.
The priest put down the newspaper
For few moments more nothing was
audible but the steady tick-tick Of the
clock.
"We have not been very long
acquainted" Winterfield resumed.
"But our association has been pleasant
to one; and ! think / owe to you the
duty of a friend"
Father Benwell bowed in silence.
"You are mentioned" Winterfield
proceeded, in the letter which l have
just read"
''Are you at liberty to tell me the |
name of your correspondence Father
Benwell asked.
81 am not at liberty to do that. But
l think 1t due to you, and to myself, to
tell you what the substance of the let |
ter is. The writer warns me to be
careful in my intercourse with you.
Your object Il am told) is to make
yourself acquainted with events in my
past life, and you have some motive
which my correspondent has thus far
failed to discover. / speak plainly, but |
1 beg you TO understand that / also
speak impartially. condemn no man
unheard, least of all a man whom /
have had the honor Of receiving under |
my own roof"
He spoke with certain simple dig
nifty. With equal dignity Father Ben
well answered. 1t is needless 70 say
that he knew Winterdeld's correspon-
don't to be Romayne's wife.
sLet me sincerely thank you, Mr..
WinterAeld, for candor which does
honor to us hbth," he said. "You can
scarcely expect me-if may use such
an expression-to condescend to JUS
tify myself against an accusation which
is an anonymous accusation so far as L
am concerned. prefer to meet the
letter by plain proof and i leave You
TO Judge whether am still worthy OF
the friendship TO which you have so
kindly alluded"
With this preface he briefly related
the circumstances under which he had
become possessed Of the packet, and
then handed II to Win.erfield, with the
seal uppermost.
decide for YOURSELF" he concluded,
"whether man bent on prying into
your private affairs, with that letter
entirely at his mercy, would have beer
true TO the trust reposed In him."
He rose and took his hat, ready Il
leave the room ifhis honor was profan
ed by the slightest expression Of dis
trust. Winterfield's genial and unsus
picious nature instantly accepted tn
offered proof as conclusive.