Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1883-01-12


ard me and now you conceal your heart in
fictitious speech. Let it be l can mover see
| you again"
"You need not say that in such a tragedy
tone. You may see me in an ordinary way
why should you not? But Of course not in
such a way as this. should not have come
now if it had not happened that the Duke is
away from home so that there is nobody TO
check my erratic impulses"
when does he return p
'The day after tomorrow, or the day after
that"
Then meet me again tomorrow night"
mo, Fred, l cannot"
IF you cannot tomorrow night, you can
the night after one Of the two, before he
comes, please bestow on me. Now, your
! hand upon il Tomorrow or next night you
will see me to bid me farewell :" lie seized
the duchess's hand.
'No, but Fred-let go my hand What do
you mean by holding me so II it be love to
| forget all respect to womans present posi-
| tion in thinking Of her past, then yours may
| be so, Frederick. 1t is not kind and gentle of
you to induce me to come to this place for
pity of you, and then to hold me here"
But see me once more have come two
thousand miles to ask it,
| "Oh, / must not There will be ISLANDERS
Heaven knows what cannot meet you For
the sake of old times, don't ask it,"
Then own two things to me that you did
| love me once, and that your husband is unkind
| to you often enough now to make you think
of the time when you cared for me-
"Yes-I own them both" she answered
family But owning such as that tells
against me and l swear the inference is not
| true"
Don't say that for you have come-let
me think the reason Of your coming what
like to think it. 1t can do you no harm. Come
| once more -
He still held her hand. Very well, then"
she said. Thus far you shall persuade me.
l will meet you tomorrow night or the night
after Now let me 60
He released her hand and they parted.
The duchess ran rapidly down the hill toward
| the neighboring mansion of Vercombe Tow
ers and when he had watched her out of sight,
he turned and strobe of in the opposite direc-
ton. All thea vas silent and empty as be-
| fore.
But only for a moment. When they had
| quite departed, another shape appeared upon
| the scene. He came from behind the trili-
| thon. He was a man of stouter build than the
first, and wore the boots and spurs of horse.
man. Two things were at once obvious from
| this phenomenon that he had watched the
interview between the captain and the duch-
| ess and that, though he probably bad seen
/
embrace, he had been too remote to hear the
reluctant words of the lady's conversation
| or, indeed, any words at all so that the meet
! ing must have exhibited itself to his eye as
| the assignaton Of a pair Of well agreed lovers.
But it was necessary that several years should
elapse before the shepherd boy was old enough
! to reason out this.
The third individual stood still for mo-
ment, as if deep in meditation he crossed
over to where the lady and gentleman stood.
and looked at the ground then he too turn
| ed and went away, in q third direction, as
widely divergent as possible from those taken
| by the two interlocutors His course was
| toward the highway and few minutes af-
terward the trot of horse might have been
heard upon its frosty surface, lessening till it
died away upon the ear.
The boy remained in the hut confronting
the trllithon as il he expected yet more actors
on the scene, but nobody else appeared How
long he stood with his little face against the
| loophole he hardly knew but he was rudely
awakened from his reverie by punch in his
back and in the feel Of it he familiarly recog-
nized the stem of the old shepherds crook.
blame thy young eyes and limbs, Bill
| Wills now you have let the fire out, and you
know | want it kept in l thought something
would go wrong with ye up here, and l
couldn't bde in bed no more than thistledown
on the wind, that could not Well, what's
happened, fe upon ye 2"
Nothing"
Ewes all as left EN- ?"
| Yes
Amy lambs want bringing in p
No"
The shepherd relit the fire, and went out
among the sheep with a lantern, for the
moon was getting low. Soon he came in
again.
"Blame it all-thou'st say that nothing hev
happened aud one eve hey twinned, and is
like to go of, and another is dying for want
Of half an eye Of looking to told ye, Bill
| Wills, ii anything went wrong to come down
and call me and this is how you have done
! it."
you said could go to sleep for a holler-
day aud did
Don't you speak to your betters like that,
| young man, or you'll come to the gallows-
tree You didn't sleep all the time, or you
wouldn't have been peeping out of that there
| hole Now you can 60 home and be up here
again by breakfast time. / be an old man,
and there's old men that deserve well of the
world but mol must rest how l can :"
The elder shepherd then lay down inside
the hut, and the boy went down the hill to
the hamlet where he dwelt,
SECOND NtGHF.
Whom the next night drew on the actions
of the boy were almost enough to show that
he was thinking of the meeting he had wit
messed, and of the promise wrung from the
lady that she would come there again. AS
far as the sheep-tendng arrangements were
concerned tonight was but repetition Of
the foregoing one. Between ten and eleven
o'clock the old shepherd withdrew as usual
for what sleep at home he might chance to
| get without interruption, making up the 9TH
| or necessary hours of rest at some time dur
ing the day the boy was left alone.
Th- frost was the slme as the nigh. be-
fore, except that it was little more severe.
| The moon shone as usual, except that it was
three quarters of an hour later in its course
and the boys condition was much the same,
| except that he felt no sleepiness whatever
| He felt, too, rather afraid but upon the
whole he preferred witnessing an assignation
of strangers to running the risk of being dis
covered absent by the old shepherd.
1t was before the distant clock of Vern-
combe Towers had struck eleven that he OBJ
served the opening of the second act of this
midnight drama, It consisted ip the appear
| ence OF neither lover or Duchess but of the
| third figure, the stout man booted and spur
red, who came up from the easterly direction
in which he had retreated the night before.
He walked once round trilithon and next ad-
vanced toward the olump concesling the hut,
the moonlight shining full upon his face and
|
upon the shepherd boy the duke was Jove
himself to the rural population, whom to Of
| fepd was starvation, homeessness and death,
| and whom to look at was to be mentally
soathed and dumbfoundered. He closed the
stove, SO that not spark of light appeared,
and hastily buried himself in the straw that
lay in a corner.
The duke came close TO the clump of fuTze
and stood by the spot where his wife and the
captain had held their dialogue he exam
ined the furze as if searching for a hiding
place and in doing SO discovered the hut
The latter he walked round and then looked
inside; finding it to all seeming empty he
entered, closing the door behind him and
taking his place at the little circular window
against which the boy face had been pressed
Just before.
! The duke bad not adopted his measures
too rapidly, if his object was concealment
Almost as soon as he had stationed himself
there eleven O'Clock struck, and the slender
young man who had previously graced the
scene promptly reappeared from the north
quarter of the down. The spot of assigna-
ton having by the accident of his running
forward on the foregoing night, removed it.