Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1889-11-07
last child of Leon Percival, the austere, as

he was known.
And now, ON coming out into the hail.
this young sprig Of Londoner put him so
much in mind Of the picture Of the high
| spirited youth he used to know that he
stopped short TO think
"Hi feel somc'ow has hif-,n he mused,
and then taking his gaze from the travel
ing bag he acted on the impulse of the mo
/ ment.
look ERE, young friend" said he, touch
ing Allan on the shoulder as they stepped
out into the sunshine. "Pardon me, but hi
| can't 'elp but see that you resemble so
much one portrait hin this gallery hup-
stairs. His hit possible hi ham haddress-
ing Percival. Can hit be that you hare the
son hOf Italian Porcval, so long hago dis.
inherited solely because e lad sense
henough TO marry ha sensible woman"
The sources first sentence sent a sus-
pscious impression with its curious articu.
| lation, and his tap on Allan's shoulder
seemed TO augur no good to the contents OF
the case he carried. But the compound
| question which followed the eccentric old
| fellows prelude put those fast-risng fears
OF detection TO flight, aud substituted a
choking sensation of oppressive wrong in
| their stead.
Allan looked up. "You know me, then, by
my resemblance TO my father" he said,
with sad attempt at smile. II am the
only son of that Allan Percival lin fact,
the only child living, aud that is why
Miriam Percval Fairfax and her solicitors
trust me on this errand to the Hall
The present owner OF Heatherleigh is
my cousin, Mr.. Bancroft, and | am com
missoned to the Hall by her implicit or
ders."
"Pon my soul pom my soul !" exclaimed
the squire, grasping Allans hand. "'Pon
my soul, Iii thought the world hof your
father, my boy; has hif e were my hown
brother" And the impulsive Bancroft
fiourished his handkerchief and blew his
nose with the sound Of a trumpet. "Then
hits your fathers picture upstairs; WY
don't you go hup hand get hitr'
Allan shuddered. "Do not ask me 10 90
upstairs and into that ROOM" he answered,
turning faint at the idea, and covering his
face with his hand, as if to shut out even
the bitter memories.
"Hol Hi see rejoined the squire, "you
said this 'orrid place" and he put his arms
akimbo. eli seei Hi seer he continued,
''you dread hit hon your fathers haccountl
Forgive me, my boy; Hi didn't thnkl Hi
know the sad story hof your fathers being
kicked bout; card hof is death, too, but
didn't ear that e left ha son. Well WE'LL"
For some minutes the old squire stood
looking affectionately at Allan and think
ing, then he placed his hand kindly on the
young mans arm and said don't YOU
want your fathers portrait, my boyi Hif
you do, WY, hi will be glad TO go hup there
halter hit for YOU
Allan nodded in the affirmative He
could not speak. A feeling of utter lone
illness was creeping out of the shadows
and wrapping his soul in its miserable in
fluence. Up there, In the dark, ghostly
place, his fathers picture hung-with its
face to the wall, he had been told thou
sand times, because he had been cast out
and now, after three and half decades Of
gloom and disgrace, II was TO be brought
down and given into the hands Of the son,
the child of his mesalliance.
Allan heard the squire go up the length
Of the shadowy staircase, heard him tread
ing the corridors, as one hears things in q
strange, indisunct dream.
The sunshine stole down through the
tufted elms, the noisy rocks chartered and
scolded high up above the ancient gables
and the April airs went whispering by, but
Allan heard them not. He was listening
attentively TO voice sounding down the
aisles of the by-gone, and he heard it say:
courses on that old Hail, that sent me
adrift; curses, ! say and it was the voice
of his father
And in connection with this maledctiye
sentence he heard a sweet, soft voice, and
it said in a deprecatlng tone: "Allan
Allanm And il was the voice of his gentle
lady mother.
But Squire Bancroft interrupted this
communion Of spirits AKIN, and broke
Adams painful rSvcrie by saying: ERE hit
his" At the same time he wiped sus-
picious moisture from his old eyes and
locked the great doors in silence. .,
Allan Percival left HeatherIeigh as one
in dream. The long, desOlate avenue,
down which his darling had passed alone in
her grief did not seem real to him. The
changing of the great gates sounded afar of
and even the hum of the carriage wheels
on the echoing drive beyond came to his
ear as unnatural and deadened. He
thought OF it, and remembered Miriam's
horror of the place.
He paused at Hedge Place, the squirrels
lovely cottage, and letting him out with
many warm adieus, drove mechanically on
toward the city.
Hastings came IN view, and he drew
sigh of relief. The simmer of the sea be-
yond gave him a new impetus, and he
smiled. ut won't be so very long now,n
he said, waking up, "until l shall see her,
my own"
He consulted his watch. ~ have time TO
get every thing attended to in my care and
reach London to morrow; then a final in
terview with my bankers there, bidding
goodbye 10 a few friends, and I'm off on the
reacherOus waters yOnder"
To PE CONTINUED