Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1885-12-12

y
! house, said Clara knowingly.
"Whisht, don't you speak of it to :
living soul, for my master would XII
me If he thought ! had betrayed hinf.'
Barney did not think OF his conver
sation with Squire Rodney; il he had
he might have felt some misgivIngs as
TO his safety.
The squire had called upon Lady
/ Trayers Immediately after his return
from Brighton; but her iadyship was
too i'll to receive him. lie then went
| home to Rodney Hall and called upon
Dunstan Kirke the morning after his
arrival.
The miller was delighted to see his
old friend back again, and warmly
shook his hand
Il am delighted to see you, squire,
Welcome homer
Il am glad to get back, Dunstan
and am sorry that my duty called
me away from England when it did.
| had to go to my dying brother, for !
never would have forgiven myself if
had refused his appeal; but | am sorry
that had to leave about that time
9Why. man, what's the matter ? The
Hall is all right. / used to ride over
there almost every week while you
were away. Everything went on the
same as usual. No man ever had bet
ter servants than you have, | can tell
you."
Il would not care if Rodney Hall
were burned to the ground" " exclaimed
the Squire.
"What has gone wrong, then ?"
"Dunstan Kirke, you ought to be
the last man upon earth. to. put that
question to me" answered the squire,
hot flush passing over his face. al
was obliged to leave England, you
were not"
@What do you mean, squire 2"
Il mean that yan allowed your
daughter to be cheated out OF her hon
or"
81 don't want to hear her name men
tioned,p replied Dunstan Kirke, his
face flushing with anger.
"Hush, man do you think / will be
silent?" Squire Rodney burst forth eX-
citediy. Do you think | will heed
anything you may have said at such a
time as this p
@Are you mad ?" asked the miller,
surprised.
Il sometimes believe that | shall be-
| almost feel as If | could brain you;
it is all your fault; 1t never would have
happened if you had behaved like a
father instead of brute"
"What do you mean, man r
"When | arrived in London a few
days ago, | accidentally met Captain
Green. He dropped hint, but would
not speak plainly. However, he gave
me Lord Travers' address, so | went
to Brighton. | saw Barney O'Flynn
there. and from what he told me fear
the worst
eMay inquire how this concerns
me, Squire Rodney?"
"Good heavens. have you stone in
place of heartp
HWhatever you have learned about
the girl who was once my daughter, ]
don't want to hear" said Dunstan
Kirke, white with rage.
"You shall hear mei' cried Squire
Rodney. Il fear your unfortunate
daughter has been betrayed; that the
marriage in Scotland was wretched
fraud, vile farce. She is living at
Brighton with Lord Travers. They
are known as Mr.. and Mrs. Caring
ford. Noone visits them. Their mar
riage has been kept a secret all these
months"
Over Dunstan Kirke's face passed a
shadow like that of approaching dlsso-
luton; but the stubborn old miller
would not bend his iron Will. He
found that he loved his daughter IN
spite of all his unnatural efforts to
harden his heart against her. He
missed her bright young face from
his fireside and the sound of her fresh
voice. He saw how his wife silently
mourned for her lost darling. At
times he could not bear the reprolch
he read in Mercy Kirkes gentle eyes.
Dolly seldom spoke to him unless she
was obliged to do so. He knew that
his niece was resenting her cousin S
banishment. Hazers name had never
been spoken since the night that Dolly
Dutton and he had quarreied regard
ing her correspondence with his
daughter. Day after day he worked
at the old mill; day after day he fought
with himself to stifle the VOICE OF nat
ure. He felt that he had acted in a
brutal manner to his only child, but
he would not acknowledge his error
to any one.
During Squire Rodney's absence he
had not heard of Hazel; therefore,
when the squire returned and over
whelmcd him with the story OF his
daughters wrongs, he was too sur
prised at first to speak.
Don't stand there and look at me
with that immovable countenance|
cried the squire, completely out OF pa
tience with the unfeeling calmness OF
the man before him. "if you have no
mercy for Hazel, have mercy on your
wife, She will break her heart when
she hears the story OF her daughters
wrongs"
"Did | bring those wrongs upon
her ?" asked Dunstan Kirke excitedly.
Eyes, you did, in u measure"
"How? ?"
"You insulted Hazel-droye her
from your door like dogW
Because she broke her word"
"If she did wrong, man, was that
any excuse for your conduct? You
sent her, an unprotected girl, adrift In
the world!"
.'She went with the man she pre-
ferred to her father and mother"
Naturally, because fhe loved him,
even as your wife loved you"
what makes you think think that
Young Carringford has dishonored
her?'
because he has not introduced her
as his vile to any OF his friends"
"What could you expect, squire ?
He is ashamed of the miller's daugh-
ter"
pooh! Hazel is lady. She would
not cause any man to blush for her"
"You would not have been ashamed
of my poor lass, but he is. His mother
will not receive her. / knew that
would be the way her foolish marriage
would end" j.,
"Suppose he is not legally married
| to her ?"
"Then, by Heaven, ] swear he shall
marry her, or I'll have his hearts
blood!" cried Dunstan Kirke, us he
/ brought down his clenched fist on the
table beside him. All his pretended
| indifference vanished, and the big
/ drops of moisture stood on his fore
head. Over his rugged face had come
a terrible change: it had grown fierce
with pain, haggard with despair, white
/ with sorrow. As he stood with bowed
head listening to Squire RodneY's tale
I