Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1891-05-23
NJ a - /:
A TALE OF A CARAVAN.
pY ROBERT BUCHANAN.
CHAPTER XIV

/
PRISE.
A week passed away. The shadow of
the caravan no longer fell on the green
meadow by the lake, and the struggling
population of Aberglyn, unsuspicious
of foul play, had already forgotten both
the caravan and the owner.
And If facts were to be taken into
consideration in estimating the extent
of her memory, Matt too had forgotten.
1t was common talk now, that she, the
grammarless castaway, the neglected
/ protegee Of William Jones, was to he
married to the master of the great
housed Nay, the very day was fixed;
and that very day was only two sunrises
distant, and Monk, of Monkshurst, had
IN his pocket special license, which he
had procured, at an expenditure of five
pounds, from London.
Doubtless, III any other more popu-
lous locality the affair would have oc-
casioned no little scandal, and many
ominous shakings of the head; but the
inhabitants were few and far between
and had little or no time for idle gossip
ing. The coast-guardsmen and their
wives were the only individuals who ex-
bibited any interest, and even their ex-
citement was faint and evanescent, like
the movements Of fish in a shallow
and unwholesome pool.
But the really extraordinary part oi
the whole affair was the conduct oi
Matt herself. Apparently quite cured
of her former repugnance To a unioT
with Monk, she made no objection
whatever to the performance Of the
ceremony, and laughed merrily wheT
she was informed that the day was fix
ed. Monk, in his grim. taciturn way
was jubilant. He came to and fro con
stantly, and assumed the manners OF {
lover. Had he been less bent on one
particular object two things might have
struck him as curious:-(1) That Matt
though she had consented to marry him
steadfastly refused to wear his ring, ol
accept any other presents, and (2) thai
she still shrunk, with persistent and il
disguised dislike. from his caresses.
1t was now late In the month of Au
gust, and the weather was broken b)
troublous winds and fretful moon
For several weeks William Jones, il
his mortal terror, had refrained from
visiting the cave; he had never set hi.
foot therein, indeed, since the night Of
the assassination. At last he could beal
the suspense no longer. Suppose som,
one else had discovered his treasure
and robbed him? Suppose some subter
ranean change had obliterated the land
marks or submerged the cavernl Sup
pose thousand things! Tired of hi.
miserable supposition, William deter
mined, despite his terror, to make sure
So late one windy and rainy night b,
stole forth with his unlit lantern, ant
fought his way in the teeth of half ;
gale TO the familiar place, which IN
found, however, with some little difli
Guilty. He was neither superstition
nor imaginative, but throughout TN
journey he was prey to nameless ter
rors. Every gust of wind went through
his heart like knife; every sound o
wind or sea made that same heart stol
and listen. Only supreme greed anI
misery anxiety led him on. But at las
he gained the cave, within which thert
was sound as of clashing legions
clarions shrieking, drums beating, al
the storm and stress of the awful water
clashing on the cliffs without, and boil
ing with unusual screams through thr
1iacn sA.t setween the cave snd th'
i 81
| Treaabling, with perspiration stand
ing in great beads on his face. lie search
ed the cave for the corpse of the mur
dered man, expecting to find it well ad
vanced In decomposition. Strange L
say, however, it had disappeared.
| William Jones was at once relieved
and alarmed; relieved because he wa!
spared horrible experience; alarmed
because he could not account for thS
disappearance. A little reflection, how
ever, suggested that one of those tida
waves so common on the coast might
have risen well up into the cavern
washed away the body from its place OF
the shingle, and carried it away in the
direction of the caldron. @In which
case" he reflected, "them coast-guard
chaps would find it some day among
the rocks or on the shore, and think il
had been drownded in the way of nat
ur'.'
Satisfied that everything else was un
disturbed, he retired as hastily as posi-
Bile, sealed up the entrance 20 the cav
ern, and ran hastily home.
The morning of the marriage came
a fine sunny morning. An open dog.
cart belonging to Monk, and driven by
one OF his servants, stood at William
Jones' door, and close TO it a light coun.
| try cart, borrowed by William Jones
himself from neighboring farmer
The population, consisting of an aged
coast-guardsman, two coast-guards-
mems wives, and half a dozen detected
children, crowded in front of the cot
tage.
The bridegroom, attired in decent
black, with flower in his button-hole
stood waiting impatiently i'm the gar.
den. Despite the festive occasion, he
had a gloomy and hang g-dog appearance
Presently there emerged from the door
| William Jones, attired in q drowned
seaman's suit several sizes too large fol
him, and wearing chimney-pot hat
and white rosette. Leaning on his
arm was Matt, dressed in q dress of blue
silk, newly made for her, out of dam
aged materials supplied by Jones, by
one Of the coast-guard women, q light
straw hat with blue ribbons to match
and light lace shawl. Behind thil
pair hobbled William Jones' father
whose costume was nautical like his
sons but more damaged, and who also
sported chimney-pot hat and whit.
Irosette.
| The crowd gave feeble cheer. Mat
looked round and smiled; but mingled
with her smile there was kind of vagu,
anxiety and expectation.
| 1t was arranged that Monk should
drive Matt ~ the dog-cart. while vii
liam Jones and his father followed il
the commoner vehicle. AT Pencroes
where the ceremony was to be perform
ed, they were to meet with one Mr.
Penarvon, y country squire and kindred
spirit Of Monks, who had promised t
be best man."
| Monk took the reins, while Matt 90
In and seated herself beside him, the
groom getting up behind; and away
they went along the sand-chokcd road
followed by Jones and his father.