The watchman and southron. [volume] (Sumter, S.C.) 1881-1930, 1894-07-21
COPYRIGHT. 1888. sr the AUTHOR.

sometimes with words and examples, at
others with his thick cudgel Of holly that
still hangs over the ingle in the smaller
sitting room. The end of it was that the
Lad was sent to the priory here in Bungay,
where his conduct was Of such nature that
within year the prior prayed his parents
to take him back and set him in some way
of secular life. Not only, said the prior,
did my father cause scandal by his actions,
breaking out of the priory at night and
visiting drinking houses and other places
but such was the sam of his wickedness
he did not scrup1e to question and make
mock of the very doctrines OF the church,
alleging even chat there was nothing sa-
cred in the image Of the Virgin Mary
which stood in the chancel, and shut his
eyes in prayer before all the congregation
when the priest elevated the host. Fhere-
FORE" said the prior, ST pray you to take
back your son and let him find some other
road to the stake than that (which runs
through the gates of Bungay priory. . :.
It was believed both by my grandfather
and the prior thaS the true cause Of my IA
ther's contumacy was q passion which ne
had conceived for agha of humble birth, a
miAer's fair daughter who dwelt at Wa
ingford Mills. Sos the end OF It. was that
he went to foreign pats in. thecare OF
party of Spanish monks, whohad journey
ed here to Norfolk on pilgrimagesto the
shrine of Our Lady of Walsingham-
Thus it CHANGED that when he had sailed
from Yarmouth o year and six months
there came letter from the abbot Of the
monastery in Seville to his brother, the
& Nforx,.c Of P,,nero cavtnc fh haf
my father had fled from the monastery.
Two more years passed away, and then
came other news-namely, that my father
had been captured; that he had been hand
ed over to the power Of the holy Office, as
the aocursed inquisition was then named,
and tortured to death at Seville. When
nv grandfather heard this, he wept. Still
he did not believe that my father was dead
in truth, since on the last day OF his own
life, that ended two years Later, he spoke
Of him as living man and left messages
to him as to the management of the lands
which were now his
And in the end it became clear that this
belief was not Ill founded, for one day,
three years after the old mans death, there
landed at the port of Yarmouth none 9th
er than my father, who had been absent
some eight years in ALL Nor did he come
alone, for with him he brought wife, a
young and very lovely Lady, who afterward
was my mother. She was Spaniard OF
noble family, having been born at Seville,
and her maiden name was Donna Iulsa de
Garcia
There were three Of us children-Geof-
frey, my elder brother, myself and my Sis
ter Mary, who was one year my junior,
the sweetest child and the most beautiful
that have ever known We were very
happy children, and our beauty was the
pride of our father and mother and the
envy of other parents. was the darkest
of the three, dark indeed to swarthiness,
but in Mary the Spanish blood showed
only in her rich eyes Of velvet hue, and in
the glow upon her cheek that was like the
blush on ripe fruit.
Nv mother used to call me her little
Spaniard because Of my swarthiness-that
is, when my father was not near, for such
names angered him. She never learned to
speak English very well, but he would
suffer her to talk in no other tongue before
him. Still when he was not there she
spoke in Spanish, of which language, how
ever, alone of the family became mas
ter, and that was more because Of certain
volumes of old Spanish romances which
she had by her than for any other reason
From my earliest childhood was fond Of
such tales, and it was by bribing me with
the promise that should read them that
she persuaded me to learn Spanish, for
my mothers heart still yearned toward her
old sunny home, and often she would talk
of it with us children, more especially in
the winter season, which she hated as
do. Once I asked her 4 she wished to go
back to Spain. She shivered and answered
no, for there dwelt one who was her en-
emy and would kill her; also her heart
was with us children and our father.
Now, when I was 1871 years old, on
certain evening in the month Of May, it
happened that friend Of my fathers,
Squire Bozard, late of the hall in this par
ish, called at the lodge on his road from
Yarmouth, and in the course Of his talk
let it fall that Spanish ship was at an
chor in the roads laden with merchandise.
Ny father pricked up his ears at this and
asked who her captain might be. Squire
Bozard answered that he did not know
his name, but that he had seen him In the
market place, tall and stately man, rich
ly dressed, with handsome face and q
scar upon his temple.
At this news my mother turned pale be-
meath her olive skin and muttercd in Span
ish:
''Holy Mother, grant that it be not he!"
Ny father also looked frightened and
questioned the squire closely as to the
mans appearance, but without learning
anything more. Then he bade him adieu
with little ceremony, and taking horse
rode away for Yarmouth.
That night my mother never slept, but
sat all through it in her nursing chair,
| brooding over know not what. AS left
her when went to my bed so found her