The Penn's Grove record., 1885-12-05

his lads" spoke up another.
He's a cursed Englishmanl" volun-
teered a third.
''That's robbin' us of a position and
earnin' the rights Of a kossanure bovl''
growled a fourth. my father had it
afore him"
ITS him that's put the agent up to
his doin's of late-gettin' the patrol
doubled, and kapin' such a tight hand
over things We can't touch a snipe but
your nos is snatched off Ah, 1t was
foine times we had when your father
rest to his soul-was ranger, Timl''
Thus spoke a fifth.
Its Elliott that's stolen the sweet
est colleen in all Rossanure from the
mar that deserves her the most-ay,
and that was surest OF her til he came
amongst usl'' said another, q lad in
years, casting a look of deep love and
pity at the black-browed man opposite.
Hugh Slievan said nothing, but his
eyes flashed fire, and suppressed MUIR
mur ran round the circle.
"'Tis a mortal shamein said some;
others cursed the ranger In a whisper.
well, boys,' resumed their chief
firmly, sit seems fan example should be
made of BIN. He has been weighed
and the scale against him kicks the
beam. If any one has a good word for
this man, let him say It.
Silence-unbroken save by the roar
of the river and the sad sough of the
wind. The chief laid a watch between
the lanterns and stared quietly at its
face. Five minutes went by, and, not
one plea having been registered in the
Englishman's favor, the chief put the
watch back into his pocketand remark
ed calmly that time was up. Then he
added carelessly-
Boys, if any n or more of you
thinks John Elliott worthy of life, let
that one OF more lave this assembly"
None rose, not one left the kin.
"The matter is settled then-John
Elliott diesl'' said the chief; and, OPEN
ing a sheet of paper on which was a list
of names, he marked that of John Ell
llot--distinguIshed already as sdan-
gerous"--with a cross. He then han
ded the sheet to his ~nelghbor, and 1t
passed in turn through the hands of
all.
When the paper CAME back to him,
eight black crosses doomed the ranger
to death, And, when he saw them, a
grim smile of satisfaction lighted up
Black Hugh's face.
Day by day passed, and John Elliot
went about his work, little dreaming
of the fate in store for him. The good
people of Rossanure had begun by ha-
ting him; they were slowly learning to
like him. True, he did his duty fear
lessly-he would tell no lie to shield
himself, let alone his neighbor-he was
ove~r-scrupulous about his masters
| property; but, all the same, there was a
frank good-humor about the man that
won its way into the heart OF every wo-
man In the barony. and a quiet deter
mination that gained the respect, if not
the goodwill, of the men. lie would
serve the writ that all others refused to
| serve, did he think it fnrEhered his
masters interests. But he did not
and ularmed he would perform his
disagreeable duty; and none had the
heart to strike him where he stool, the
light Of day shining in the blue eyes
full of courage and perhaps of pity.
What they might do in the dark, when
those eyes were not looking their way,
was another matter.
The doomed man often came across
the "Black Watch,o some of whom he
knew personally. There was the chief
who. never showed other than the strong
dislike he felt for him. There were
Hugh Slieyan and his young brother
Mike-these two Stunned him; of late
he had come to learn the reason why.
"But, Maudeen, I can't give you
up!' he would mutter, a they scowlej
on him in passing.
Then there was a man-0ne of the
underkeepers on the Ballina estate
who evinced q warm partlality for him.
Elliot would sup in his house, and Tim
would seem never to tire of his com
pany. Tim had been told off to watch
his movements and gauge his habits,
that nothing might mar the plot in the
end; and he seemed to derive peculiar
satisfaction from this The BLACK
Watch had arranged to spare the
ranger till mid. autumn. The summer
nights were short and bright-detec-
ton would be easy. Besides, this was
the first blood that would be shed in the
barony. and on the threshold of crime
there is sometimes a lingering.
But the hour came at last.
1t was a mild afternoon in autumn.
The robins were piping as Maudeen
gathered the last or her roses. She was
singing too. for that very day she had
wrung an unwilling contest from her
mother to look with favorable eyes on
the courtship Of John Elliott.
ut will break Hugh's heart" wept
the widow, land, oh, honey there's
nothin' but harm VIII come of it-he
wa dead set on ye was Hughl,
"Mother,'' cried the girl desparingiy
81 will marry him as you like; but my
heart will rive In two.n
And when the widow saw how pale
her childs face had grown, she bowed
her head in sore trouble, saying
"Let him come then, let him come
this John Elliutt.o
And Maudeen had sent off a little lad
who tended the cattle; and now at every
sound she raised her bright face, thuuk-
ly a football did break the silence; hut
it was not the ranger-it was Black
Hugh instead, who stood leaning heav-
lily against the farm gate.
sGood day. Dye wish to see moth
er?" asked Madden, sitting the pang
Of fear that seized her at sight of her
rejected lover, TO whom she had scarce
ly spokeA since two months before,
when they met in the lane.
The widow could heal burns and
sprains better than any doctor. Perhaps
Hugh had hurt his arm at the forge,
thought the girl-his face was certain
~ pale, and his lips were compressed as
with pain.
ats you I wish to spake WITH" was
the sullen answer, as he unattached the
the gate and strobe up to her. "Mau.
deem, will ye not be after givin' me
chancc-wil ye not try to love me?"
Tears crept into the girls eyes.
II am after lovin' you, Hugh" she
answered softly, ''though not IN the
way you name. / can't do that, Hugh
II can't.n
"Try-only tryi"
sHugh, it's Just net possible"
"You shall never marry Elliott-never
$50 help me-"
A trembling hand laid OF his lips
ohaoEo1 thu final Uard