Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1890-10-05

though, Of course, he could find no trace Of
it on the map. So he had jumped to con-
clusions all too prematurely7 He had al
lowed that unknown enemy of his-that
dark and malignant creature IN the back,
ground-too tacile q triumph? He began
TO be ashamed of himself. "Stand fast,
Craig -Roystonr' had not been his motto, as
it was that OF the proud old man whom he
had injured by listening to those childish
tales,
He returned to the index, and sought for
Balloray. Well, there was no Balloray; but
then Balloray was a private house; and
private houses, unless of historical interest,
are seldom mentioned in guide books And
then again he bethought him: why the old
balladi-the Bonnie Mill Dams O. Bal
loray:' surely that was sufficient evidence
of there being such placer He could al
most hear George Bethune's voice as he re-
called the opening lines
There were twa sisters lived in a bower;
Balloray, o Balloray;
By the bonnie mill dams o. Balloray.
There came squire frae out the west,
Balloray, o Balloray;
He 10 ed them bath, but the Youngest best,
By the bonnie mill dams o. Balloray.'
Why, what a fool he had been, to be dis
concerted BY an index-and that the index
of some old and obsolete editionl He prose-
cuted his researches. He turned to Cadzow.
Yes here was Cadzow: Cadzow Castle and
Cadzow Forest; and undoubtedly these were
the property of the Duke of Hamilton. But
might there not be some other property of
the same name, as sort OF appanage OF
Balloray? 1t was no unusual thing, in Scot
land or anywhere else, ior two places to
have the same name; and in this instance it
was the more important one, the ducal one,
that would naturally figure in the guide
book. He seemed to see old George Bethune
regarding him, with something of naughty
look on his face, as though he would say,
"Of what next will you accuse me?'
Well, all this was very fine and brave; it
was manful struggle with certain phan-
toms; and be was trying to cheat himself
into an elation of confidence, But ever and
anon there came to him a consciousness of
something behind; something inexplicable;
and his thoughts would wander back to
Brighton. Fugitive lines of that terrible
poem of Heine's would come into his brain
-Zu Tafel sassen froh die Gasti \
und vie ich mach dem Brautpaar schaut
o Wehl mein Liebschen war die
Braut. He began to imagine for himself
what those three had been doing this morn
ing. The weather being so fine, no doubt
Mr.. Bethune had laid aside his books for
the time being, ana he and Maisrie would
be ready to 60 out by half past 10 or IL.
Would their new friend call for them, or
would there be some place of appointment
down in the Kings road? He could see
them walk out the West Pier. The old
man with the firm set figure and the fow-
ing white locks would probably be thinking
but little of what was going on
around him; as likely as not he would be
singing gayly to himself about the pier,
O. Leith and Berwick Law, and leaving
thee, my bonnie Mary Yes, and so far
those two others would be lett to themselves;
they could talk as they chose-eyes meeting
eyes. And what had the pumpkin squire to
say? On, horses and hounds-the county
balls-the famous bin OF port to be opened
at Christmas. Christmas was coming near
now; might there not be an invitation to the
two world-wanderers-tn come and be hos
pitably entertained at the big country house
and introduced to friends? And Maisrie-
would she think twice?-would she refuse?
The old man would consent to anything that
promised him present com ort; he accepted
favors with sort of royal complaceney; it
would matter little TO him so long as the fire
was bright, the wine good, the company
cheerful, and himself allowed fine latitude
of Grafton. But Maisrie-?
1t was nearly o'clock now. That pre-
vious afternoon at Brighton had been a
time of misery; and long into the night he
had been kept awake by dull and brooding
speculation, varied by bitter seIfreproach.
All the same he felt himself irresistibly
drawn thither again; whatever was happen
ing down there by the seaside, he wanted to
know; his imaginings were a more cruel
torture than anything his ewes could tell
him. And perhaps-he added to himself,
with an eminous darkening OF the brows-
perhaps there might be a chance of his
meeting this rival of his face to face, the
better to measure him, and learn what both
of them had to expect.
He caught the 4:30 express at Victoria,
and got whirled away down. But he did
not go to Mrs. Ellison's house, nor vet to
the Bedford Hotel, at which his friend Mus
selburgh was staying; he went to the Bris-
tol, so as to keep himself little out of oh.
servation. He was lucky enough to get
bedroom; and that was all he required; he
did not even wait to look at it; he left the
hotel and went wandering down the Marine
Parade, which was now a mass of darkness
lit up by innumerable points of yellow fire.
Whittier away then? If only he knew
the street in which they had taken lodgings
he could soon find out their daily habits,
himself remaining unseen, but he had
nothing beyond vague recollection that
they had spoken of some hill behind the
town. However, Brighton, though now
grown a big place, has a few leading
thoroughfares in which everybody who is
but casual visitor is sure to be encountered
sooner or later; and in this particular in
stance it was a good deal sooner than he
could have dreamed of.
10 oil i.
of the parade, with but a casual glance now
and again at this or that passer-by, when
suddenly, on the other side, at the corner of
German Place, three figures came under the
glare of a gas-lamp, and these he instantly
recognized. Occasionally as they went on
they became indistinguishable in the dusk;
then again a gas-lamp would bring them
into vivid reliel-the tall and slim young
girl, the square-set old man with the pic
turesque white hair, the young man with
the yellow cover-coat. They were talking
together, and walking quickly, for the
night was cold.
''Yes," said Vincent to himself. in the
bitterness of his heart, 81 am displaced and
superseded now. Without much difficulty,
either. Quickly DONE And no doubt he is
taking them along to some restaurant. He
will hear about the rocks and dales of Scot
land-about the ballads and songs-perhaps
he has subscribed for the new book. Then
they will ask him to go home with them
again; and Maisrie will take out her violin;
and perhaps-perhaps she will sing 'C'etalt
une fregate, mon joIi c@ur de rose'-oh, yes,
perhaps she will sing that for HIM, or any
other of the Canadian songs, except the one.
Surely, surely, Naisrie will not sing La
Claire Fontaine?'
And then, again he said to himself, with
his eyes fixed on those three. but most of all
on the young girl who walked with SO light