The Democratic advocate., 1893-04-08

Clara, he had fitted month before. 10
his right stretched green field, amid which
only one house was visible-large and
white, with many widows glaring from the
slope of a low hill.
His mothers blind tapped dreamily.
She was asleep, he knew. His father was
in the town, Clara occupied in regions
unseen. His heart beat faster than ever
before; but his adventurous instincts were
strong. He pushed with all his might at
the heavy gates in the wall. The hasps
were unfastened the iron hinges creaked;
the portal moved with slow dignity.
Directly the aperture would admit his
slim little form, he found himself in the
kingdom of the ghost.
"But I'm not afraid Of ghosts, said
Robin aloud. aThey can't hurt. And |
must see if its true"
How strange his little voice sounded
Despite his bold words, Robins heart
thumped yet more loudly. He stole on
tiptoc round the sweep of the drive. Here,
close upon him, the old house stretched
long and low; the carved faces looking from
the caves, the deep porch leading far inward
to massive door.
His red brick home and the hot road
might have been miles away 1t was very
silent here, shady and cool. Robin passed
the porch and went on round the end OF
the house. Now green lawns began,
fragrant with flowers. An exquisite garden
stretched to a stone balustrade. Three
steps led down to fair paths among rose
bowers. Beyond lay the cedar avenue. its
branches in black relief against the blue
June sky. Overlooking all, stood another
long, low front, and more carved faces met
Robins startled eyes. Half way a glass
door opened upon the turf. The boy,
stealthily approaching, peeped in.
He saw a room, also long and low, with
ceiling carved like the gables, carved
bookcases covering the walls in every direc-
ton save one. At table laden with huge
volumes, with papers under weights of
varied forms, with miniatures on standing
frames, with crests and coats-of-arms on
red sealing wax, with military medals and
gorgets, sat tall old gentleman, writing
very intently; his figure, erect and spare,
his ingers-conspicuous upon his nimble
pen-long and bony, his hair white and
smooth, his eyes black and brilliant; his
dress, including swallow tailed coat, pre-
else in the extreme.
Robin remembered terrible ballad about
ghost with cork leg, which was always
running, running. Might there notjust as
we'll be ghost with pen, obliged to write,
write, write? And what face was this,
gazing from large gilt frame which filed
the one space unoccupied by bookshelves p?
The child felt himself in a world Of en-
chantment. He stole nearer; his shadow
fell across the sheet of foolscap.
"Hallo !" said the old gentleman dropp
ing his pen. His black eyes opened
widely. "Good heavens, what likeness y
! he exclaimed.
CHAPTER III.
sAre you-are you'll shan't be
frightened said Robin, with a struggle.
"Come in, my little fellow. What do
you want?" asked the gentleman, recover
ing his self control
The child stepped through the open
doorway. nothing loath.
dts not true" he said; "you're nothing
but man.
The old gentleman laughed heartily.
''Come here, my funny little chap" he
said, holding out his hand. 81 almost
thought, at first But there's no fool
like an old fool What is your name, my
boy?"
"My names Robin Savile, returned the
child, advancing, his tapping hat pressed
nervously to his back, his fair curls flow
ing over his blouse.
The old gentleman flushed q deep red
"How remarkable How exceedingly
remarkable! And who is your father, my
little man2
"My fathers the eurate of st. Chads.
We've left the town, because mammy's i'll.
The doctor said she would die without
fresh air; so father walks there and back
every day. Fathers vicar in our real
home, only that is ever so far away. The
bishop let us come here because we're so
poor, and father thought we could save
money But | don't believe it, and Clara
doesn't; and nanny cries nearly all day.
1t was long speech, but at each pause
Robin was encouraged by some sign or
sound of interst.
"Abl That's all very sad, my
little fellow. Does your mother care for
strawberries? But where do you live, by
the-bye -
"We live"-Robin hesitated, apologeti-
cally-''we didn't know when we came
We live at the little house opposite. We
didn't know it was built to spite you, till
the milkman told u.s.
'The milkman told you that, did he ~
said the old gentleman, looking very angry.
"Thesaucy jackanapes Tell him he ought
to be ashamed of himself he added iras-
cibly. 'sAnd your names Robin Savile
The Robin SaviIe I knew was just your
height, and you are his living image |
must call on your father. Or, stay
never make calls Will you ask him if he
had brother-or, no-a cousin, perhaps
or an uncle, of your name, who was drowned
in boating expedition? Just at yOuI
age-or so | should fancy"
'sI'm seven,' said Robin. Then he
looked up at the great picture.
sShe talked as if I'd been drowned, he
murmured, musing. "Are you soldier
he added, with sudden change Of demean
or, as his eyes met the bright hues oi
regimental colors in a MS. open on The
table.
81 was a soldier once.
The old gentleman paused abruptly
aI'm writing history of my regiment
my little man. I've been at it, more OF
less, since | stopped soldering. 1t keeps
me busy, as you see. | intersperse with
it biographical details. Here are the Off
GERS crests, ancestral portraits, and so forth.
You shall come again and see them. just
now you must help me to find few straw
berries for your mother. 1t was splendid
regiment-the Seventeenth Lancers. Yon'l
l.