Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1892-01-22
THE
Master of the Mine,
BY ROBERT BUCHANAN
The visions of the earth were gone and ded-
lie saw the giant sea above his head"
NJ

" toward the spot where Anita was lying.
The girl looked up and showed her white
teeth. smiling: the smile broadened as her
mistress spoke to her rapidly in Portuguese.
Anita is of my opinion" said Madeline:
''she thinks this English climate detestable,
and she longs for the palms and temples OF
the West. | suppose | shall have to send
her back. The people think her wild saw
age because she does not understand their
barbarous dialect, and she will never settle
il England"
| had INV own suspicion that Madeline was
laughing al he, and that Anita'S smile had
a quite different meaning; but Was too hap
by in the mere presence of my darling to
trouble myself on that head. Merely to stand
by her side, and look into her face, and hear
her musical voice. was JOY sufficient; for
never had she seemed more bright and beau
tiful. She wore a rich sealSkin cloak, tightly
fitting, and descending to her knees; pretty
sealskin hat to match; and the paraSOl she
carried was more for use as waking-stick
than for a safeguard against the sun. The
sea breeze had brought the color to her deli
cate cheek, and her dark eyes were unusual
ly light and happy.
For the time being | forget the social gulf
between us, between her wealth and my
poverty, and talked freely and unreStrained-
" of many things. The old cOnstraint left
me- | suppose to the Improvement Of my
manners, for Madeline seemed to look at me
and listen to me with unusual interest.
And yOlt?' she said, presently. "Shall
you remain in this lonely Cornwall all your
life"'
The question took me by SURPRISE and was
difficult to answer.
who can teIl?" [ said. Il have often
thought Of trying my fortune across the
ocean. but habit has kept me chained to a
dull place and a cherries occupation Some
times, do you know. Miss Graham [ think it
is all fatality. 1t seems SO strange, for eX-
ample, that / should have been brought here
at all, and that, even in so unlikely place,
we should have been once more thrown to-
gether."
at is fortunate for me, at any rate, that
you became a CornShman."
How sop
Because, otherwise, [ might not have sur
vived-tO thank you for my life!'
Was it gratitude, or an even rendered SEN
timent, that filled her eyes with such tender
meaning, and after one long look made her
blush and turn her head away? | cannot
tell; but the look made my heart leap. while
a new thrill of rapturouS hope tTembIed
through my veins. | glanced at Anita: she
was basking again, with closed eyes. Car
ried beyond myself by the inspiration OF the
moment, [ took my darIing's hand.
Miss Graham" | said: "Madeline-may !
call you again by that dear name?-ever
since we parted, years ago. YOU have been
the one memory Of my life; and when we
met again"
| would have continued impetuOusy; but
gently diSengagng her hand, she cried:
ANITA! come, it is time to go home"
The girl seemed to understand, for she
sprung to her feet and pointed eagerly up
the rocks For myself, | stood stupefied and
ashamed; but turning again to me with
light smile, Madeline continued:
Are you returning to the village, Mr..
TrAIaWney? Ii so, let Us walk together"
Something in her manner convinced me
that | had better encrOach no further, but
make the best of my immediate chance of
happiness. So [ answered eagerly that | was
at Il. 7 service, and the next minute | was
plotting her up the rocks. The way was
troublesome, ana she often needed and ac-
copied the help OF my hand, thrilling me
through and through with her warm touch
At last we left the rOck-sOWn prOmOntOry
behind u.s. and stepped out on the Open
heath. We two led the way, while Anita
followed behind, so slowly that we were soon
left practically alone.
How came you to walk so far?' | inquir-
ed. 1--WE are three or four miles, as the crow
flies. from St Gurlott's."
"Oh, | came out early, and the sunshine
tempted me on. | did not think that we had
wandered such distance. Poor Anita will
be tired out.
And you?"
'Oh, [ love a long walkr' she replied,
gayiy. Even in Demerara ] used to wan
der for hours and hours in the woods; and
once l was nearly lost. Night came down
suddenly, and | had to creep into the hole Of
a great tree; and [ wasn't frightened,
though | could hear the tiger-cats crying all
round me; for the fire-fiGs made it almost as
light as day. But poor papa nearly went out
# his mind, and, after that, would never let
me enter the woods alone"
How did they find your
by beating the woods. There were about
q hundred coolies carrying torches, and max
ing noise enough to wake the dead. At last,
as they were passing, popped out Of my
hldng-pIace, and cried, quite cOOlly, Here /
am, papa! He was terribly angry, but l
was soon forgiven"
1T would be hard heart" l murmured,
tenderly, that would not forgive you any
thngr'
She looked at me merrily, and shook her
head.
''Ah, you don't know mel Poor papa, if
ne were alive, could tell you different tale.
L was always a Spolt child, Mr.. Trelaw-
ney."
Thus lightly talking, and playing with the
merest threads of conversations, to avoid
touching themes OF more dangerous interest,
we walked across the moor. Though it was
Wintertde, the air was very close and warm
with sunlight, and Anita Jagged more and
more behind. At last we came in sight of
the village, and paused by the side of the
moorland taIn where l had parted with my
uncle. My eyes were fixed earnestly on
Madeline. Suddenly | saw her start and
change color
Following the glance of her eyes, l caught
sI-ht OF well-knOwn figure approaching.
Ii was George Redruth, elegantly dressed,
and carrying Walking-cane.
He came up rapidly, and | saw by the ex-
preston of his face that he was IL pleased.
lie glanced at me angriy and contemptuous-
iy, and then addressed his cousin.
Nv here have you beell?' he cred L
have been looking Tor you everywhere Do
you know that it is three o'clock?'
I did not know it was so late" replied
Madeline, quietly. Anita and | went wan
dering across the moor and down to the sea-
side, where we found Mr. TreIawney."
He looked at me again, and l saw his brow
blacken more and more
Lunch was served at half-past one,' he
muttered, land my mother has driven over
II afternoon service. l won't trouble Ire
lawney any further. Take my arm, and let