Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1890-04-18

upon the table and took of his hat. 1 saw
him very plain; u high, feverish exultation
appeared to boil in his veins, and he stood
and smiled and smirked upon the candle
Presently he lifted up his arm, snapped his
fingers and fell to undress. AS he did So
having once more forgot my presence. he
took back to his singing; and now could
hear the words, which were those from the
old song of the "Twa Corbies," endlessly re-
peated;
And over his banes when they are bare
The wind sail blaw for eyermarr'
have said there was no music in the man.
His strains had no logical succession except
in so far as they inclined little to the minor
mode; but they exercised a rude potency
upon the feelings, and followed the words
and signfied the feelings of the singer with
barbaric fitness. He took it first in the time
and manner of rant; presently this i'll
favored gleefulness abated, he began to dwell
upon the notes more feelingly, and sunk at
last into degree of maudin pathos that was
to be scarce bearable. BY equal steps, the
original briskness of his acts declined, and
when he was stripped to his breeches, he sat
on the bedside and fell to whimpering. [
know nothing less respectable than the tears
of drunkenness, and turned my back impa-
tiently on this poor sight.
But he had started himself q am to sup
pose) on that slippery descent of self pity, on
the which, to a man unstrung by old sorrows
and recent rotations, there is no arrest except
exhaustion. His tears continued to flow,
and the man to sit there, three parts naked,
in the cold air of the chamber. ! twitted
myself alternately with inhumanity and
sentimental weakness, now half rising in my
h,1t ,,t 1;
of Indifference and counting slumber until,
upon sudden, calling TO remembrance his
old wisdom, constancy and patience, L was
overborne with a pity almost approaching
the passionate, not for my master alone, but
for the sons of man.
AT this | leaped from my place, went ovrr
to his side and laid hand on his bare Shout
der, which was cold as stone He uncovered
his face and showed it me- all swollen and
tear marked like child's and at the sight of
my Impotence partially revived.
"Thinll shame to yourself" said I. "This
is bairnlv conduct. I might have been snivel-
ing myself if | had cared to swill my belly
with Wine But | went to bed sober like n
man. Come, get into yours, and have done
with this pitiable exhibition"
ooh, Mackellar,n said he, "my heart is
wac!n
l.
think What words We're these you sung as
you came in: Show pity TO others, we then
can talk of pity to yourself You can be the
one thing or the other, but | will be no party
to half way houses If you're striker, strike,
and if you're a bleatcr bleatm
"Cry.' cries he, with burst "thats it
strile that's talking Man, I've stood it all
too long But when they laid hand upon
the child when tho child's threatenedn-his
momentary vigor whimpering oif-"my child
my Alexander !n-and he was at his tears
again.
l took him by the shoulders and shook him.
"AleXander!o said l. DO YOU even think of
him; Not you! Look yourself in the face
like brave man, and you'll find you're but
self deceiver the wife, the friend, the
child, they're all equally forgot, and you
sunk in mere log of sefishness.
"Mackelar,n said he, with Il wonderful re-
turn to his old manner and appearance, 'you
may say what you will of me, but one thing
l never was-l was never selfish"
81 will open your eyes in your despite"
said |. How long have we been here! and
how often have you written to your family {?
| think this is the first time You were ever
separate; have you written at all: Do they
know it YOU are dead or livng:'
had caught him here too openly; it braced
his better nature; there was no more Weep
ing, he thanked me very penitently, got to
bed and was soon fast asleep; and the first
thing he did the next morning was to sit
down and begin a letter to my lady; a very
tender letter it was, too, though it was never
finished. Indeed, all communication with
New DIRK was transacted by myself and it
will he judged l had II thaukless task of it,
What to tell my lady and in what words,
and how far to be false and how far cruel
was thing that kept me often from my
sumber
All this while. no doubt, my lord waited
with growing impatiency for news of
his accomplices. Harris, it is to be
thought, had promised Il high degree of
expedition; the time was already over
passed when word was to be looked for; and
! suspense was a very evil counselor to a man
Of an impaired intelligence My lords mind
throughout this interval dwelled almost
wholly i'll the wilderness, following that
party with whose deeds he had so much con-
Germ. lie continually conjured up their
| camps and progresses, the fashion Of the
| country the preparation III a thousand diff
| ferent manners of the same horrid fact, and
! that consequent spectacle of the masters
| bones lying scattered in the wind These
! private, guilty considerations l would con
tinually observe to peep forth in the mans
talk, like rabbits from hill. And it is the
less wonder if the scene of his meditatons
| began to draw him bodily
CHAPTER XXIV.
BEGINNING OF THE JOURNEY IN THE VIII