Devils Lake inter-ocean. (Devils Lake, Ramsey Co., Dakota [N.D.]) 1884-1905, 1886-07-24
CHAPTER XIV
MOTHER MEAD.

That Cuthbert had left her of his w will
did not come into her mind. Belief in love
docs not fall dead in this way. And no one
had yet suggested to her, as kindly solution
of the mystery of his disappearance, that it
might be he had taken a sudden shame of her
as his wife and had left her, acting a sweet
part up to the last hour-for men are shock
ing deceivers.
What, then, did she thinka Why, that
some accident had befallen him; and the idea
that he might be lying dead in some hidden
place so frenzied her, that, without con-
sideration of her purpose, she fled upstairs
for her hat and left the house to seek him.
She had wandered beyond the market
place when her mind took a grasp of her in
%tention, and that brought her to a stand.
The midday sun beat fercely upon the road,
and held the pavements tolerably empty.
But there were people in the shops, and they
stared at her as she stood; perceiving which,
she went down the street again, with her
heart beating furiously over a newborn
resolution to call on DR.. Shaw, and begin
her inquiries after her husband at his own
home.
But when she had got as far as the market
place, the fame of Mother Mead as a gossip
and teller Of fortunes occurred to her, and
this because she saw the old woman's bent
figure going at a hobble on the other side Of
the market place. So Jenny, passing quickly
through the stalls, intercepted the dame as
she was turning into the court In which she
dwelt.
Mrs. Mead was talking to herself in a loud,
quavering voice, and SO completely engrossed
with witchlike thoughts-for what other
thoughts could possibly visit such an ugly
conformation2-that she did not observe
Jenny until she found herself stopped by the
girl standing in front of her.
"Ah, Miss Jenny Strang1eld-if that be
your rale name, my dear! A hot marning,
isn't it, with a power of dust for an old nose
that finds snuff cruel, dear: Why, your
father is jest beyont-I am now from him
my old skin cracked when he looked at me. "
"May I speak with you in your house, Mrs.
Meade am in great trouble"
At sight of the sad, sweet face Mrs. Mead's
ugly c~ountenance underwent a kind of trans
formation. Her nose and chin did not, in
deed, moderate their intimacy; but the blood
shot old eye took o sudden light of compass
sion, and a strange grin of good nature over
spread her face.
"Come along, my DEAR" she exclaimed,
"f ye're not above being seen with stitch a
scalecrow as me. Stoop your head, for It's
an old-fashioned door, built afore palaces
WIS known. There's a strong chair thatll
hold thee; and if I can comfort thee, my
pretty, I'll mop out my old heart to do it, I'll
warrant"
They had arrived at a rickety old house,
with a sitting room very abruptly entered
from the street. This room and q bed cham
Der adjacent composed Mrs. Mead's dwelling.
Taking q seat opposite the girl, she ran her
eyes over her from top to toe.
snow, my child, !" said she, "what can I doc
Is it your fortune you want told? Nay, nay,
there's no physic in such stuff for rale trouble.
It's good for foolish wenches whose brains
are made O ribbon, but not for the likes O.
thee, dearie."
II am in bitter trouble, indeed, Mrs. Mead.
Mr.. Shaw, the son of the doctor, is missing,
and l am mad to know where he is" said
Jenny, bending her pale face forward US she
spoke.
Likely enough, my dear-he had the most
noble face that liver I see on a man. What
was he to theea Your answer shall be sacred
with ME. Speak the worst, if harm hath
come to ye. You'll find Judith Mead dumt
as your heart"
HE was my husband" replied Jenny, in
voice scarcely above a whisper, for the secret
was still so fresh that tho revelation Of ii
startled her to hear, though spoken with her
own voice.
Mrs. Mead screwed up her eyes to look at
the girl, until the upper part of her face wa:
mask of wrinkles.
"Your h%usbandl" she exclaimed, in a tori
and with a manner that would have made il
impossible for a third person to know whether
rI,o 1,o1so,,ol klo o,so1 -, &c. r---
it could not occur to her that her word would
be doubted. why, then, no wonder his Going
troubles ye.",
"Oh, Mrs. Mead, why do you say his 20
ing? He has not left his home, do you think
Is it not possible that he has somewhere met
with an accidenta Or has his father forced
him to leaves On Wednesday he promised
me to call last night on father and break the
news of our marriage, for all this while was
itour hidden secret. What should prevent
him comings Oh, Mrs. Mead, he loves me
truly, n would he with me if he could
come. Can he be deada Oh, kind Godl if
thought this I would kill myself, that
might be dead with him."
"My dear" said Mrs. Mead, slowly, and
rejecting hard while she spoke, "he is moi
dead. Folks do not die like this without il
being known. Where could he die? Com.
ing to call on father? Then his body would
ha' been found-for the Lord knows they've
been searching closely enough; an unless he's
gone up to heaven, clothes AM all. like the
Prophet Elijah, you may be sure he's walk,
fin about on this world somewheers, hale an
hearty. Did they tell ZEE there was a press
gang here lust nights But ye mustn't lool
to that. They'd never take q slender maj
like HING Billy Basings they forced away
but he's q %strapping sailor. Mr.. Shaw,
meat for their masters, and the wagabont
plunderer 'ud never burn their fingers or
him.
She shook her head emphatically.
He's your husband, is he, my deara That.
beyond doubt, I hope?"
"Oh, yes, Mrs. Mead; we were married ii
achurch in London three weeks ago."
"Ye're q soft little wench, and not larnet
in London ways. Are ZEE sure it was 6
church,"
@Oh yes, indeed-a large church!" ex
claimed Jenny, gazing at the old woman
with a new expression gathering III hel
eyes.
"Why, then, if you knows the name, ant
got the bit o paper they giles ye when folk
are married.
u do not know the name Of the church.
do not think my husband ever mentioned it
II any bit Of paper was given to us he vii
have it. was ready to swoon for fear
and took no notice Of anything, SO scaret
was l. But this I have" she cried, drawinl
out a purse with quivering fingers and show
ing a wedding ring.
The old woman put it aside with a move
ment Of her hand.
"You know If it be right wi thee,n sal,
she; 3but the rings only worth what It "
fetch as gold"
Something in these words, something il
the irrepressible leer that weighted the oil
WQmaN,s eYeljda. took IannY,s breath AWAY