Lancaster daily intelligencer. [volume] (Lancaster, Pa.) 1864-1928, 1890-01-18

The next event which I can recall
clearly is that my mother and three
brothers all fell i'll OF fever, owing, as
afterwards learned, TO the poisoning OF
our well by some evil minded person,
who threw dead sheep into 1t.
Il must have been while they were III
that Squire Carson came one day to the
vicarage. The weather was still cold,
for there was fire in the study, and
sat before the fire writing letters on q
piece of paper with pencil, while my
father walked up and down the room,
talking to himself. Afterwards l knew
that he was praying for the lives Of his
wife and children. Presently n servant
came TO the door and said that some one
wanted to see him.
"It is the squire, SIR" said the maid,
"and he says hc particularly wishes to
see you."
"very well,' answered my father,
wearily, and presently Squire Carson
came in. His face was white and hag-
gard, and his eyes shone SO iercely that
was afraid Of him.
"Forgive me for intrudlng on you at
such a time, Quatermain," he said, in
hoarse voice, "but tomorrow / leave
this place forever, and ! wish to speak
10 you before go-indecd, must speak
to you."
''Shall ! send Allan away" said my
father, pointing to me.
.'No, let him bide. lie will not under
stand" Nor, indeed, did ut the time,
but remembered every word, and In
after years their meaning grew on me.
''First tell me-" he went on, chow are
theyY' and he pointed upwards with his
thumb.
"My wife and two of the boys are be-
yond hope" my father answered, with
groan. 81 do not know how it will go
with the third. The Lords will bc done!'
"The Lords will be DONE" the squire
echoed. solemnly. "And now, Quater-
main, listen--my wifes gone"
"Goney" my father answered. "Who
with?'
"With that foreign cousin of hers. IL
seems from letter she left that she al
ways cared for him, not for me. She
married me because she thought me
rich English Milford. Now she has run
through my property, or most of it, and
gone. / don't know where. Luckily,
she did not care to cucumber her now
career with the child; Stella is left to
me-"
"That is what comes of marrying n
papist, Carson" said my father. That
was his fault; he wns as good and
charitable n man as ever lived. but he
was bigoted "What are you going to
do--follow herr"
He laughed bitterly in answer.
"Follow her!" he said; "why should l
follow her? If ! met her might kill her
or him, or both of them, because OF the
shame they have brought upon my child's
name. No, ! never want to look upon
her face again. Itrusted her, / tell you,
and she has betrayed me. Let her go
and find her fate. But am going too.
am weary Of my life"
'Surely, Carson, surely" said my
father, "you do not mean
'No, no; not that. Death comes soon
enough. But will leave this civilized
world that is living lie. We will &c
right away into the wilds, my child and
l, and hide our shame. Where? dom
know where. Anywhere 80 long as there
are no white faces, no smooth, educatcc
! tongues"
"You are mad, Carson, my father an
swered. "How will you live? How vii
you educate Stellar BE n man and liv,
| 1t down."
II will be u man, and will live II
down, but not here, Quatermain. Edu
cation! Was not shc--that woman win
was my wife--was not she highly educa
ted?--the cleverest woman in the coun
try forsooth. Too clever for me, Quater
main--too clever by half. No, no, Stell
shall be brought up in different school
if it be possible, she shall forget her yer.
name. Good-by, old friend, good-by fo
ever. DO not try to find me out, hence
forth / shall be like one dead to you, /
you and all knew" and he was gone.
"Mad," said my father, with heav
sigh. "His trouble has turned his brair
But he will think better of it,"
At that moment tho nurse came hui
rying in and whispered something in hi
car. My fathers face turned deadly pal,
He clutched at the table to support hin
self, hen staggered from the room. M
mother was dying.
1t was some days afterwards, do nc
knew exactly how long that my fatht
took me by tho hand and led me upstail
into the big room that had been my IN,
theirs bedroom. There she lay, dead
her coffin, with flowers in her hant
Along tho wall of the room were a
ranged three little whito beds, and o
each Of the beds lay one of my brother
They all looked as though they wei
asleep, and they all had flowers in the
hands. My father told me to kiss thei
all, because ! should not sec them an,
more, and did so. though was YER
frightened. did not know why. The
he took mo in his arms and kissed me.
"The Lord hath given" he said, "an
the Lord hath taken away; blessed b
the name of the Lord"
! cried very much, and he took m
downstairs, and after that have only
confused memory of men dressed i
black carrying heavy burdens toward
the gray churchyard.
Next comes n vision of great shi
and wide tossing waters. My fathe
could no longer bear 10 live in Englan
after the loss that had fallen on hin
and made up his mind to emigrate
South Africa. We must have been poe
at the time; indeed, believe that a lare
portion of our income went from m
father on my mothers death. At an
rate we Travelled with tho steerage pa
sengers, and the intense discomfort {
the journey with the rough ways of OF
fellow emigrants still remain upon III
, mind. At last it came to an end, an
we reached Africa, which we not
/ leave again for many, many years. !
those days civilization had not made an
great progress in southern Africa. nj