The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1889-07-03
A CHANCE CHECKMATE.
chambers Journal. J

uuCuduCipdJcu HOm TIC oCuOOl-IOOul'
My father was-and is-a banker at Sis
ton. The town lies in a valley, and by a
great many people is thought unhealthy.
Having a kinsman whom he can
thoroughly trust as acting manager, papa
these many years since abandoned the
red house in Siston Broadway and re-
sided at the manor, Walnsey. This is,
however, twelve miles from his place Of
business-eight by rail and four by road.
The manor has one other drawback
stands in a very isolated situation. Our
nearest neighbors are our namesakes, the
EscOtts of Walnsey cross; and Valentia
lodge, the country seat of Capt. Milne
Escott, lies westward across the wilder
ness we call the Health a good three
miles.
The month when my story opens was
that of February Fill-dike, and it was
justifying its name. OF storms we seemed
to have a ceaseless succession. Heavy
rains and high winds had been for several
weeks the prevailing meteorological con-
dltlons. Alice, my younger sister, and !
were prisoners within doors, and we
should have found time drag more heavily
than it did but for the presence of Val.
An only brother is always a girls hero,
and Val was ours. In age he came between
US, and his proper place at this period OF
the year was Rugby. But he had met with
an accident at Christmas, and was only
Just convalescent. Hence his HOLIDAYS
had already lasted in excess a full
fortnight of the working term AS
perhaps Val may read this, I will be
candid and add that there were seasons
when, owing to his teasing. we heartily
wished him back in the Midlands. The
Tuesday on which papa announced his
urgent summons to Ferris court was, how
ever, not one OF these occasions. Boreas
was doing his best to bring the house
about our ears. We could not possibly 90
out in the tempest. We were not ultra
enthusiastic readers, and fancy work was
ever Aiice's bette noir. Therefore we
must have settled into tame subsection to
ennui but for Val. 1t was his business,
as he put it, to make things lively, and he
did.
had ventured to demur to papa's
going. Surely it was my place to care for
him as mamma would have done had she
lived, and his health had troubled me OF
late, thoughtless as too frequently was.
at is a dreadfully rough day, papa"
said. "Can not Sir Hugo Ferris wait? II
is such distance, too. to Ferris court, and
all across country. You can't reach the
place readily by rail"
mo; wish that l could" papa an
swered. "But the journey is quite i'm
perative. Sir Hugo is one of our best
patrons. He telegraphs that his depart
ure for Algiers is fixed definitely for
ia = -,
arrangements; and | have urgent matters
to discuss with him. He insists-fool-
ishly, but l can not help ton negotiat-
ing with the principal; he will have none
of Mr.. Bellows" | suppose my face was
visibly lengthening, for before 1 could
reply papa added: Don't look so glum
about it, Maggie. You'll be quite safe
here in charge of Mrs. Climber, our new
housekeeper. ] am convinced that, after
many changes and mishaps We have Sc
cured treasure. l say this because it is
uncertain if l snail return tonight"
mot return Tonight" echoed help
lessly.
'No," he said. 81 have decided 70 take
the horses the whole way; and as the
roads are in a bad state, Spence will put
the cattle up in the next village and then
drive me back the next morning. l shall
be sure OF comfortable quarters at Ferris
court"
as it quite-safe?' asked.
For me, do you mean ."
Moo; for US. This house is so lonely,
and it is known that there are mammals
jewels-and the pictures-and the plate. "
Papa scoffed at my fears. I'VE are
too far from the track of the light-fngered
prowler to receive his attentions" he
answered.
But it was an error.
Ever since that day have had Turk
ing belief in presentiments. / know very
well that the confession will cause some
superior persons, fortified in the lines of a
sane common sense, to smile with pity at
my girlish weakness. / am somewhat
disposed to smile with them; and vet it is
not more certain that a plot existed to
rife the manor than that hour by hour
after papa had gone / grew more and
more vaguely but genuinely uneasy.
said nothing to either Val or Alice. What
was there to say? Nor TO Mrs. Climber.
Somehow had not taken to the fresh ar
rival so warmly as the others. l did
not DISPUTE that her recommendations
were frst-class; that her demeano1
to each of US was precisely what il
should be-neither over-deferential MOI
too familiar; that she was a skilled house
mistress and a paragon OF order. Never
theless, | had conspicuously frowned
when papa praised her, and l was in no
hurry to take her into confidence when an
oppression weighed upon my spirits
Alice had discovered nv lack of enthu-
siasm long ago, and insisted that I was
preiudiced because Mrs. Climber was for.
eign looking and had an affected way oil
putting up an eyeglass, which, in the
opinion of Val and myself, was totally
useless to her. / allowed Alice to think
as she pleased. The fact remained that
hitherto | was unconquered and that
Mrs. Climber knew it.
Dusk thickened at last, and we had the
approval of our consciences in closing
blinds and drawing curtains to, and shut
ting out bye eryrecognized expedient the
driving cloud-rack, the desolate Landscape
and the constant drip, drip of the com
planning trees. And then Val accepted a
stray challenge-mine or Alice's, | cannot
now be sure; the point is imDaterial-and
proceeded with glow of boyish eloquenct
which promised we'll for his intended fu
ture at the bar, to vindicate his latest
hobby, the Silence of graphiology. He had
a notable little collection of autograph:
and specimens of caligaphy which he
rummaged out of his hoard of treasures
and upon these he descanted with all the
dogmatism of the professor and all the
fervor of the disciple. AS he was pointing
out to half-skeptical critics and listeners
an alleged resemblance between traits in
fba historical cborocfar of tha nuLa ~