Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1885-11-28


The day after the murder be bad been
greatly unsettled by . visit from Tim Lnney,
who demanded news Of his master, and said
that b had not returned to the caravan al
night. Tim seemed greatly troubled, but
gave vent to no very violent ebullitions Of
grief. When be was gone Matt sat by the
Preside, and looked long and keenly at William
Zones.
"What are you staring atr' cried he, fdget-
ng uneasily under her gaze.
"Nowt, said Matt; II were only wondsS>
ing"
Then don't go wondering" exclaimed the
good man, rather inconsistently. ''You mind
your own business, and don't be fool.''
And he turned testify and gazed at the fire.
But Matt, whose eyes were full Of . curious
light, was not to be abashed
"Ain't you well, William JonesF she asked.
"I'm well enough am"
"Its queer, amt it, that the painter chap
usver come homer
'How should known growled William.
Maybe he's gone back to where he come
FROM
"Or maybe he's drowndedl Or maybe
umrnat else has happened to himf' suggested
Matt
"Nsver you mind him, my gal. He's all
right, never fear. And il he amt, it's no
affair o yours, or mine neither. You 60
along out and play"
Matt went out as directed, and it was some
hours beiore she returned. She found her
guardian seated in his old place by the fire,
booking at vacancy. He started violently as
The entered, and made a clutch at the rude
piece of ships iron which served as a poker.
"Be it you, Matta Lor', how you startled
me! were-I were-taking doze."
1--WE been up yonder, said Matt
up wheerr'
"Up to the painter chaps cart He amt
come back; and the man is searchin' for him
all up and down the place"
Fortunately it was very dark, so that she
could not see the expression Of her hearers
face. She walked to the fireplace, and, tax
ing a box of lucifers from a ledge, began
to procure light, with the view Of igniting
the rushiight fixed to the table. But in a
moment William blew out the match and
snatched the box from her.
What are you dom Off he cried. "Wast-
ing the matches, as if they cost newt. You'll
come to tie workus afore you're DONE
The days passed. and there was no news Of
the absent man. Every day Matt went up
to the caravan to make inquiries At last,
one afternoon, she returned, looking greatly
troubled; her eyes were red, too, as if she
mad been crying.
"What's the matter now?" demanded VIII
liam, who had left his usual seat and was
standing at the door.
"Nowt," said Matt, wiping her eyelids with
the back of her hand.
''Dont you tell no lies. You've heerd
summat Stop What's that theer under
your armr
All at once he had perceived that she car
ried a large roll Of something wrapped in
brown paper. He took it from her, and
opened it nervously. 1t was the crayon por-
trait of herself executed by the defunct
artist.
"Who gave you this heref' cried William
Jones, trembling more than ever.
'Tim"
"Who's he?"
'Him as come looking arter his master
The painter chap amt found; and now Tins
going away in the cart to tell his friends
And he give me this-my pictur'; he give me
it to keep. His master said l were to have it;
and mean to keep it now he's dead"
William Jones handed back the picture, and
seemed relieved, indeed, when it was out of
his hands.
dead" he muttered, not meeting MATHS
eyes, but looking right out to sea. "Who
told you he were deadf
Matt did not reply but gazed at William
so long and SO significantly that the good man,
conscious of her scrutiny, turned and plunged
into the darkness Of his dwelling.
An hour later a loud voice called him forth.
He went to thedoor, and there was Monk, of
Monkshurst. 1t was the first time they had
met since they parted on the night of the
murder. Monk was dressed in dark sum-
mer suit, and looked unusually spick and
span.
where's the girlf' he cried, after a whis-
pered colloquy of some minutes. "Matt,
where are your"
In answer to the call Matt appeared at the
door. No sooner did she perceive Monk than
she trembled violently, and went very pale.
Come here, Matt" he said, with an insin-
uating smile. ''Seel I've brought some
thing for you-something pretty for you to
wear
AS he spoke he drew from his waistcoat
pocket a small gold ring, set with turquoise
stones. But Matt still trembled, and shrank
away.
81 don't want it'll shan't wear it" she
cried
Nonsense, Matt" said Monk "Why, it's
a ring fit for lady. Come, let me put it on
your finger"
So great seemed her agitation, SO deep her
dread of him. that she could not stir; so that
when he approached, laughing, and caught
her round the waist, he slipped the ring on
her finger before she could resist. But it only
remained there a moment With a quick,
sharp cry, she tore herself free, and, taking
ehe ring off, threw it right away from her
upon the .snd. Then, with a wild gesture of
fear lno la:hing, she rushed into the cottage.
William Jones walked over and picked up
the ring, while Monk stood scowli-g darby
after the fugitive.
what the devil ails the girl?' cried the
latter, with a fierce oath, pocketing the pres
ent.
81 dunno She's never been the same
since-since the painter chap went missing.
Tn afeerd he turned the gals head"
He'll turn no more heads" muttered
Monk under his breath; he added aloud and
with decision, "There must be an end to this.
She must be married to me at oncen
"Do you mean it, masterl When you
spoke on it fust thought you was joking"
"Then you were a fool for your pains
She's old enough, and bold enough, and viz.
enish enough; but I'll tame her. Itch you
there must be no more delay. My minds
made up. and I'll wait no longer"
Sinking their voices they continued to tall
together for some time. Now, Matt wal
crouching close to the threshold, and had
heard every word of the above conversation
and much that followed it. When Monl
walked away and disappeared, leaving VII
liam Jones ruminant at the broken gate, shs
suddenly reappeared.
Curiously enough all her excitement had
departed. Instead of weeping or protesting,