Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1890-01-17

81 think not once Of you" | cried. 81
think of none but my dear unhappy master"
"Ahl" she cried, with her hand to her heart,
'is Henry deadp
Lower your voice. said l. 1.-THE other"
/ saw her sway like something stricken by |
the wind, and / know not whether in cowar-
dice or misery, turned aside and looked upon |
the floor. "These are dreadful tidings," said |
l at length, When Der silence began to put me
In some fear; land you and | behove to be
the more bold if the house is to be saved"
St>l she answered nothing. "There is Miss
Katharine besides" Iadded; "unless we bring
this matter through, her inheritance is like to
be Of shame"
do not know if it was the thought Of her
child or the naked word shame that gave her
deliverauce: at least had no sooner spoken
than a sound passed her lips, the like of it
never heard, it was as though she had lain
buried under hill and sought to move that
burden. And the next moment she had
found sort of voice.
at was fight" she whispered. ut was
mott and she paused upon the word.
1T was fair fight on my dear masters
part said l. Gas for the other, he was
slain in the very act of a foul stroke"
mot now!n she cried.
Madame" said l, "hatred of that man
even now he is dead. God knows, l would
have stopped the fighting had | dared. 1t is
my shame | did not. But when ! saw him
fall if | could have spared one thought from
plying of my master, it had been 10 eXut
in that deverance."
do not know if she marked but her next
words were. My lord"
THAT will be my part said l.
"You will not speak TO him Us you have to
mef she asked
Madame" said I, have you not some one
else to think of Leave my lord to me-
Some one elscm she repeated.
"Your husband,n said l. She looked at
me with a countenance illegible. "Are you
going to turn your back on him!" l asked.
Still she looked at me; then her hand went
to her heart again. NO said ~ho.
"God bless you for that word, l said. go
to him now where he sits in the hall; speak
to limit matters not what you say; give
him your hand and s-J, 4 know all;' if God
gives you grace enough, say, Forgive me-"
God strengthen you and make you mcrci-
full" said she. II will go to my husband"
LET me light you there" said l, taking up
the candle.
81 will find my way in the dark, - she said,
with a shudder, and thiui. .A2 shudder was
at me.
So we separated, she down stairs to where
a little light glimmered in the hall door,
along the passage to my lords room. 1t
seems hard to say why, but I could not burst
In on the oil man | could on the young
woman With whatever reluctance, l must
knock But his old slumbers were light, or
perhaps he slept not and al the first summons
l was hidden enter.
He, too, sat upin bed; very aged and blood
less he looked; and whereas he had a certain
largeness of appearance when dressed for
daylight, he now seemed frail and little, and
his face the wig being laid aside not bigger
than childs. This daunted me: nor less,
the haggard surmise of misfortune in his eye.
Yet his voice was even peaceful as he in
quircd my errand l sat my candle down
upon a chair, leaned on the bed foot and
looked at him.
Lord Durrsdeer,n said l, sit is very well
known to you that l am a partisan in your
family"
II hope we are none of us partisans" said
be- "That you love my son sincerely, I have
always been glad to recognize"
"Oh, my lord, we are past the hour of
these civilitios.n | replied. If we are to
save anything out of the fire, we must look
the fact in its bare couuteuance. a partisan
am; parti>aus we have a'i been; it is as a
partisan that am here in the middle of the
night to plead before you. Hear me; before
1 go will tell you why
II would always hear you, Mr.. Macllel-
lar said he, land that ut any hour, whether
of the day or night, for | would be Away.
sure you had reason. You spoke once be
fore to very proper purpose, have not for
gotten that"
81 am here to plead the cause of my mas
ter l said. Il need not tell you how ii,
acts You know how he is placed. Yor
know with what generosity he has alway
met your Other-met your Wishes | cor
rected myself, stumbling at that name Of
son. "YOu knOw-you must knOw-what h,
has suifered--what he has suffered about Iii
wife,
"Mr Mackellar!n cried my lord, rising il
bed like bearded lion.
"You sad you would hear me-" l contin
ued. "What you do not know, what yol
should know, one Of the things | am here /,
speak offs the persecution he must bear il
private Your back is not turned b1for
one whom dare not name to you falls upon
him with the most unieclnG taunts: twt
upon him--pardon me, my lordl-twits hin
with your Partially, calls him Jacob, call
him clown, pursues him with ungenerou
raery, not to be borne by man. And lie
but one of You appear, instantly he changes
and my master must smile and courtesy T.
the man who has been feeding him with in
suits; | know-for have shared in some O
it. and | tell you the life is insuuportable
All these months ii has endured; it bcgal
with the mans landing; it was by the nam
of Jacob that my master was greeted tn
first night"
My lord made movement as if to throw
aside the clothes and rise. "If there DO an.
truth in this said he,
''Do look like a man lying? interrupted
checking him with my hand.
you should have told meat first, he said
"Ah, my lord, indeed | should, and 20
may well hate the face Of this unfaithfu
servant cried
81 will take order" said he sat once.
And again made the movement to rise,
Again / checked him. Il have not done,
said l. Would God | had All this N
dear, unfortunate patron has endured with
out help or countonance. Your own hes
word, my lord was only gratitude. Oh, bu
he was your son, tool He had no othe