Litchfield enquirer., 1881-07-07

Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard, 5.
 Than could the substance of ten thousand sodiers' | al gsas,aiii
 .'The magic emerald, did you say, Mr. 1 Langtou? Dear me, how very interesting !" | Did you never hear of it before, Lady Ma tilda? thought that everybody knew that old story" M 1 70, one doesn't always hear things, you know. But tell me, what does the magic emerald do ?''
 i Lady Matilda's companion, with little sigh of resignation, settled his back more comfort ably against the roots of the enormous oak un- der which he was lying. He was long. lean, wrinkled man, with skin burned by long exposure to tropic suns, to the tint of the autumn leaves that fay about him. He would have been noticeable figure anywhere. but ,, he was particularly so amid his present sur roundiDgs. He was kind of man one would have rather expected to meet in an Arabian desert or on the wilds of the Pampas than amid this quiet English landscape; and his dress, which was compromise between civ iIized requirements and tropic ease, tended to increase the natural strangeness of his as. pect. s5
 Stephen Langton, like all men of any strength of character at all, had his friends and his enemies, and their estimates of him differed as much as peoples estimates of their acquaintances do differ. But on one point they were unanimous Langton was 'queer. " That verdict had been pronounced On him very early in life, and had stuck to him ever since. In the cradle, in the nursery, at school he had differed from all other babies, from all | other children, from all other schoolboys. His regimental companions in the 2O0th had ac- cepted and confirmed the designation of his nurse and his schoolmates. He took no in- 1 terest in any of the things in which the Brit | ish subaltern most delighted. He did not bet, be never touched card, he did not brag about bis prowess to the fair sex 1 suspect that it l was that last mentioned trait that most exer- cised the minds of his messmatesr What l could you make of fellow who seemed as | anxious to avoid the sblandshments of the | prettiest girls of garrison town as though | they had been as faded and as dull as the lady l whose commOuplaces bored him to death on 1 this glorious autumn afternoon? And Stephen l Langton was worth pretty girls smile, and 1 might have had his choice in most bathrooms. | Independ ently of the advantages of hand
 some face and figure, his expectations were | thrice as great as those of any other man in
 the 200th. But Nelly Despard, of Ports l mouth, and Nelly Despard, of Chatham, and | other Nellys and Fannys innumerable, all of | them pretty and some of them rich, retired in turn from the assault of that impregnable for: | tress. Stephen Langton was not marrying l man, and Sir Charles Grandson himself was | not more ignorant of the verb ito fiirt." He especially disliked any allusion to his martial achievements; and if he had left his regiment
 with the ''Rogue's March" in his ears, could
 not have been more unwilling to talk of his campaigning days. But he had done good service in his time, and in many village on the wild northwest border of Hindostan the name of Langton Sahib, the 'Feringhee boy devil" is whispered to this day by white haired men, who remember with what rod of iron he ruled the district in the days of the rebellion. But sombre as were the prevailing tints of his character, it had lights as well as shadows. Many man who was louder tongued in sympathy lacked the depths of real tenderness that lay under that hard ex- terior. It is great tribute to- the sterling worth of man who makes but few friends when the few who know him most thoroughly are loudest in their praises There were those who could tell of deeds of quiet heroic self sacrifice done by this silent and saFdonic niaat On sea and battle field for duty and for friend ships sake. Everybody knew at whose cost the children of poor Jack Naseby were being fed and educated, and how nebly the promise whispered Tn the ear of the dying comrade had been fulfilled. And when poor little Tompkins. the soap boilers son, came that awful cropper over the Derby, and saw noth ing before him but to sell out and retire to an eternity of soap boiling under the eyes of an indignant father, it was Langton who set him right, and tided him over that disastrous time But still, in spite of such stories as these, of whicl. his friends would tell you many, the ordinary verdict regarding Stephen Langton was that he was ''queer;" and the general impression he made on most people was the reverse of favorable.
 Or his accession to his fortune he had be- haved in fashion totally different from what had been expected of him, and Langton Hall had never for month together been empty of guests. Ills liberaiity in this respect did not arise from any modification of his own pecn- liarities. but was solely due to the influence of his sister. Miss Bertha Langten. to whom, report said, he was passonately attached. Report was right for once, and Berthas word was laW to her brother. who concentrated upon her all the affection that other men dissipate on the thousand and one objects to which he was utterly indifferent.
 ''The magic emerald" said Stephen Lang ton, "has been an heirloom in our family for the last four hundred years. Apart from it's associations, It is very valuable stone from it's slze and quality It is said under certain circumstance to have the power of losing it's tint and becoming perfectly colorless." =
 What are those circumstances ?" asked Lady Matilda, ~ 3
 "If its possessor is guilty of any great mean ness or rascality, if hc betrayes friend, or commits any really vile or wicked acton. the emerald loses it's color, and when that hap. pens it is warning of certain punishment. The criminal may strive 10 avert the penalty; but 1t will come in spite of all he may do"
 "And has that ever happened ?"f"
 "Never, since it has been in our famil 1" responded Langton. My forbears have either been exceptionally virtnous, or the emerald has lost it's powers or never possessed them"
 70 MT. Langton, pray don't cast doubt on such really charming story So very roman tic, so truly interesting. But supposing that it's pessessor--you, for instance (though I'm sure, of course, that you wouldn't )-were to do something really dreadful, would the en- erald never recover it's color" @i zs<a t Never, so long as itremained in my DOS. session. But directly it became another mans property It would be as at present. and would remain so until he did something awful, and so on.." Fas5
 Lady Matilda made no remark in answer to her companion's last speech, and, indeed, seemed not to have heard it. She was look ing intently between the bushes behind Lang ton, and, as he ceased te speak. she rose, in order to obtain better view of the object on which her eyes were fixed. Langtor turned, and gazed with 8 languid curiosity in the same direction. But suddenly he rose too, and stood beside his companion, with histeeth set fast, and his face paling beneath it's ruddy bronze. Lady Matilda's face was white with il-dissembled anger, and the hand which parted the leaves was agitated by an angry tremor. M st}gftF 4s 7a 5
 A young man of twenty-five or three, light haired, fresh colored, and looking lexasperate ingly cool and calm in the blazing sunlight which lit the open space about him, came lounging up the little hill on which stood the copse which hid the listeners from view. Be side him walked girl, some few years his junior, attired in dress of some dIaphanous fabric, lit by ribbons of pale blue Her sum mer hat, decorated like her dress, she carried in her hand, and thickly twisted coronet of leaves and flowers was in it's place upon her lustrous hair. Ignorant of the scrutiny to which they were subiectetI thev came m m