The Irish standard., 1889-09-21

DAG ne AGtetl On Ius VI
naenI. 5H
Look ERE, young friend, Il, said he, touch
Il iag Allan on the shoulder as they stepped
e out into the sunshine q art1on ME, but hi
Il can't 'elp but D seq that You resemble 80
s much one por RAFT hin this gallery hup
stairs. His hit possible hi ham haddress-
e ing a Percivala Can hit be that you hare the
son hof Italian Percival, so long hago dis
4 inherited solely & because re nd sense
81 henough to marry ha sensible woman -
The squire first sentence sent q slls-
piciouss impres with its curious articu-
5lation, 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 ollowed the eccentric old
fellow s prelude put those fast-rising fears
\ Jof detection to fight, and substituted 9
choking sensation Of oppressive wrong in
their stead. M # I ;4ist iS If 4ttsss u.s. s
Allan looked up. e ...i7Y on know me, then, by
| my resemblance to my father, = he said,
with a sad attempt at 9 smile q am the
only son Of that Allan Percival- lin fact,
I the only child living, and that is why
Miriam Peryival Fairfax and her solicitors
trust me on this errand to the Hall.
81 nv cousin, Mr.. Bancroft, and am COM
ssmissioned to- the Hall by her implicit or
II sders.'' f$ 331 ri
: : g Pom my soul! pom my soul ~ exclaimed
VI the squire, grasping Allan's hand. s Pom
! my soul, Hi thought the world hof your
father, my boy has hif e were my hown
\ brothGr.''' And the impulsive Bancroft
1 saourished. his handkerchief and blew his
nose with the sound Of 4 trumpet. Then
1 hit's your fathers picture upstairs; wy
/ don't you go hup hand get hit?' M
/ &! Allan shudGered. ssDo not ask me to go
4 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.
s.Ho! Hi see, = reioined the squire, ''you
said this orrid place, = and he put his arms
akimbo. Hi see! Hi see!'' he continued,
you dread hit hon your fathers haccount!
4 Forgive me, my boy; Hi didn't thinka III
! know.the sad story hof your father being
kicked hout; 'eard hof lis death, too, but
| iidn't 'ear that e left ha son. Well! well ~
For some minutes the old squire stood
! looking affectionately at Allan and thi.K-
ing, then he placed his hand kindly on the
! young mans arm and said: "Don't YOU
want your fathers portrait, my boy! Hit.
! you do, WY, hi will be glad to go hup there
halter hit for you.
4
/ could not speak a feeling Of utter lone
and wrapping his soul in it's miserable in
! auence Up there, in the dark, ghostly
place, his fathers. picture hung-with it's
/ face to the wall, he had been told a thou
4 sand times, because he had been cast OUT
I and now, after three and a half decades OF
4 gloom and disgrace, it was to be brought
! down and given into the hands OF the sou,
| the child Of his mesallance A@.
| Allan heard the squire go up the length
of the shadowy staircase, heard him tread
| ing the corridors, as one nears things IN q
| strange, indistlnct dream. .i sE
The sunshine sole 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
attentiyelY to a voice sounding down the
| aisles Of the Dy-gone, and he heard it say ).
| courses on that old Hall, that sent me
adrift; curses, ] say!' and it was the voice.
| Of his father.
And in connection with this maledictive
sentence he heard a sweet, soft voice. and
it said in deprecatlng tone: :Alla:.!
| Allan!' And it was the voice of his gentle
lady mother ~ :s.. II III 4, s
But Squire Bancroft interrupted this
communions or spirits aF,n. and b.ose
| Allan's painful reverie by saying: Err hit
MS At the same time he wiped sus-
oicious moisture from his old eyes and
| locked the great doors in silence.
Allan Percival left Heatherleigh as ono
| IN dream. The long, desolate avenue,
| town which his darling had passed alone in
her grief did not seem real to him. The
changing of the great gates sounded afar on
\ 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 adieps, drove mechanically on
| toward the city. s!2@ al
| Hastings came IN view and he drew a
4 sigh of relief The simmer OF the sea be-
| You'd gave him new impetus, and he
| smiled. ssIt won't be so very long now,'
he said, waking up, ssuntil shall see her,
/ my own
/ He consulted his watch. 81 have time to
get every thing attended to in my care and
| reach London tomorrow; then a final in
! terview with my bankers there, q bidding
goodbye to a few friends, and I'm off on the
/ reacherous waters yonder.' .@ a#
4 ssBack again!' Allan calculated, as he
threw open the door Of his lodgings, and
entered with his precious burdens. "Wel,
| I'm blest if I'm not glad the affair is wind
| ing up. What a great deal grows out OF
little, sometimes, to be sure, = he continued,
settling himself comfortably in his chair by
4 the table and emptying his pockets OF the
Heatherleigh find. IF ! had not met that
old lady in the park that clustering autumn a
| day. last year, presume should not have
| been there again this time. s5S Il 5
81 guess I had better shut the door ana
insert the key, lest / have auditors. /"
With this timely conclusion he fastened the
| door, and, returning to the table, spread out
| the contents Of the three dusty little boxes
on the green chintz cover.
| ~ only wish to see them moment he
apologized to hint Of conscience, ssand
Miriam wouldn't care. = a5 3 !.
The two little ebony cases contained
Jewels also, as well as the more pretentlous
casket. but whether they We're the property
lsof Miriam or not he had no means Of find
/ ing out They were very costly, however,
and must have been priced very much BY
! the happy possessor, whoever u might
have been, Allan thonght, as he held up