The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1881-04-20

must say good buy like this Mar
tin brings sandwich case and ;
flask, and with them, as a matter o
course, loaded revolver. Captain
Trevor puts the ugly thing quickly
into his pocket, hoping his wifi
does not see it. But she does; ant
though her heart jumps she is glat
he is taking it.
stake care of yourself, Dolly, ane
don't go beyond the place"
You'll come home early, Jack p
she whispers, putting her face Il
his.
Il can't say" he answered with
pretended cheerfulness. at all de
pends on what sort of arun we have
so you mustn't be anxious if dom
turn up till dinner-time"
NO. Dolly answers, dismally
thinking of the long, weary hours o
watching before she will see him
again.
well, take care of yourself" he
says again. "Good-buy, my girl
He holls her tight, tight for sec.
ond, and bends his comely head tc
kiss her lips that quiver for all the
trusting words.
She follows him to the hall, hold
ing his hand as if her close, clinging
clasp could keep him from all harm
Her whole life seems made up OF
this passionate absorbing love for
her husband, and well she knows
that it would kill her if aught hap
pened to him. But she smiles brave
" as he mounts his. horse and rides
slowly away under the bare branch
es Of the big elms. At the end OF
the avenue he turns and waves his
hand and smiles at the little figure
watching him, watching till the last
gleam of his red coat disappears,
and then with sigh going back in
to the dii.ing-room, where the child
rem are playing on the hearth,ug.
1t seems terrible long morning.
1t is only two hours since her hus-
band lett, and to Dolly it is ages
since she heard his voice, and her
heart is full of vague forebodings,
and this is civilized country-free
Great Britain.
Jack Tregor has, as he himself
says, done nothing; broke 10 laws,
harmed no one. Kind-hcarted. gem
erous Jack he wouldn't be guilty
OF cruelty to man, woman or child
for the world yet the last few weeks
have been weeks of terror, during
which he, his wife, and his children
have all been threatened. Bally-
hague is desert. Such few cattle
as were not MANNED have been sold.
Captain Trevor is unde. police pro-
tection, and what for? He asks the
question aften enough in his own
honest, straigl forward way, and
no one seems able to answer it. His
land is let below the letting value
his tenants have fair, just, honor
able Landlord to deal with /; but any
day, any hour he may be shot
His corn and hay were burnt to
cinders long ago, and ruin menaces
himl
4 very dreary morning. Mrs. Ire
vor watches the children, out for
their walk, and a lump comes in
her throat as she sees the little pro-
cession going down the avenue in
the soft, gray light of the wintef
noon; baby Dorothy in her peram-
bulator, little Cecil walking by the
nurse, and two policemen, armed
with loaded guns, keeping a keen
lookout on either side If it were
not so real, so terrible, Dolly could
almost laugh to see the perambula-
tor with the two great policemen in
attendance. However, its no laugh
ing matter-only wise precaution.
Outside on the terrace under the
drawing-room windows another po-
liceman marches up and down. 1t
seems incredible that it should be
necessary in the year 1881, but it is
and Dolly is getting accustomed to
be guarded and watched. She goes
cut too, and walks about with the
children, protected by their escort.
They see nothing, hear nothing un-
usual. 1t is a soft, lovely day, with
a grey sky and taste of spring in
the air; but Dolly can take no
pleasure in anything till her hus
band is safe home. She gathers .
bunch Of violets and comes in again.
with that vague uneasiness that has
made her so restless of late whenever
Jack is out of her sight.
The newspapers are full of agra
rian outrages, land meetings, and
threatening notices. Dolly glances
over them, but the subjects are not
cheerful, so the papers are laid
aside, and she writes long letter
to an old schoolgirl friend in England.
After beating about the bush for a
long time, Dolly scribbles out the
fulness of her heart.
.. =. | dare say in England you
have not the faintest idea of the
state we are in here, actually living
in terror of our lives. Jack is out
hunting to-day, the first time be
has ventured out without the police
for three weeks. / did not like his
going at all, and shall not be happy
until he is home again. Poor tel
lowl he feels it dreadfully, being
almost prisoner, or driving out
with ap armed guard. Fancy the
children have police armed at every
point to protect them even when
they are out even in the place. It
makes me very miserable, and the
wretched government will do moth
ing. That dreadful Land League
had meeting here last Sunday,
and we expect something terrible
will follow. l am trying to per-
suade Jack to leave the country,
but he says he won't be frightened
away, and there is nothing but ruin
before us. We have got no rents.
and / see no prospects of getting
any. but / do not care for that; l
only mind the awful fear that is
perpetually before me: that they
will do something to Jack. | be-
Iieve it is a regular system, and