St. Landry clarion. (Opelousas, La.) 1890-1921, 1896-07-25
THE WANDERER.

mere was pFeSlge OF STORM, haSSes
of blue-black clouds hung over the
sunset. The wind walled and died, and
died and walled. In the roadway rusty
leaves leaped suddenly to the air, ed
died and swirled, strove to unite with
the tree that had cast them, s1livered in
the dyke. In the fringe of the cloud
there was star. I
A style had been fixed at the turning
of the road. 1t had three bars and q
step to cross by. On either side the
hedge grew thiekly; and there also tsyc
trees, like guardians, gaunt in the hor-
lid fight. So the stilc was picturesque.
But it had its uses. On the further
side there stretched a path across the
meadow; it led to the old house that
had stood among the beech trees for
generations. From the stile you could
see the turrets above the tree tops.
The iHheritor OF the name of Dalcym-
pie, the squire, lived tlKre. If you
followed the road, you could also come
to the hall, and enter by the great gate.
But the pathway was nearer by far.
On the side of the pathway, in the
angle where it joined the stile, there
lay pond. In the district thereabouts
it was looked on as a place of i'll omen,
and back to time out of mind the
children of Dalrymple had passed it at
Dightfall with speedy steps and eyes
aslant. Yet not to folk learned in lore,
but TO the weirdness of the place itself,
should you go for the reason. The
trees grew close to the margin and met
overhead, save only the center, where
the banks were widest. If n stranger
should take a stone and hurl it to that
point he would get in return a, tone so
deep and resonant as well might make
him wonder. How the trunks ereaked
and whined, and the wind. whistled in
the branches. And the shadows were
black on the pond
A man was seated on the stile. His
back was TO the road, and his eyes were
fixed upon the turret tops above the
trees. He had come upon a journey;
you could tell it from his boots. He
was hungry; you could tell it from his
eyes. Such a man, indeed, as one would
pass upon the further side OF the road,
and be glad to get rid of toward even
ing. What hangs to feet one vaguely
calls "boots;" with him it was scraps
of leather. And how thin he was!
Through the rents of his garments
there peeped out angles so sharp that
The coolest, il he saw them, could
scarcely withhold his pity. At the
points they were lacerated by thorns,
but the blood had congealcd and lay
matted thickly with the dust of travel
Ills hands. were like claws. Long,
sinewy, toil-stained, they protruded
shamefully from his rags, and, clutch
ing the rail upon either side. kept him
fixed on his narrow perch.
There is a penury that ehills the
blood. It was in the face of that mat.
Coarse, tangled, thicllly clotted with
dust, his hair hung loose and rank upon
his shoulders. A scanty growth of-un-
liempt beard, streaked and tinged with
gray, bristled from the lower POI tons
Of his face, as weeds grow sparsely Gu
the arid soil. His cheeks were so hol-
low that the bones above stuck out like
the knucl1les on a mans clenched fist.
The color Of his skin had come, through
time and sameness of tFea tTnent, to ac-
cord with the dull coarse brown of his
hair and his clothes. His eyes, luster-
less, deep sunk in the sockets, stained
at the margins with blood, weary, wild,
gazed at TIL, ,.turrets of the hall, [
have seen sush a look upon the face ofa
starving dog. &.
The wind walled in the branches, and
the clouds massed in the west, but the
man sat still upon the stile. But when
those who were hurrying from the
pass; yet ever lie dropped upon the side
chat was furthest from the hall. Such
as were women eyed him askance, and
such as were men with wonder. @BGt
not a soul passed him a salutation. So
the man remained, and the birds cried
out for the storm. Then two maids re-
turning to the hall came to the stile
end tossed their heads, resenting that
he should soil with his clothes the rail
which their skirts must touch.
Yet the stile was his own. Nor the
stile alone: but the grass at his feet
and the great house at the end of the
pathway, and the broad acres that
pressed it round. There was warmth
and good cheer at the house. Still the
man moved not. Had the journey been
long, and did he linger to rest at, the
stile? Or. did he wait there for some
one who tarried? za.I
Then there came the prattle of chill
dren's voices in the road. They babblel
merrily as their nurse pressed them on
from the storm. And they passed the
man by. Then their voices ceased, and
their feet sped faster still, and many Il
glance they cast behind
them as. they. walked, and hurried
again. So they needed not the pond.
But the man watched them wondering
ly. And he saw laborer approach
along the pathway, returning from his
work The pipe he smoked gloWed
and the man shivered. Butt
at the,s stile he spoke to the laborer; and
his voice was hoarse, as one that is sell
dom used.
What children are sthose?" he asked. |
The workingman stopped abruptly
ind looked at the man in surprise. He
at the questioner, 4 doubt |
not, and, may be, he wondered at the
question.
Them" he said, at last. in a strong,
BROAD accent ''T'hemis the squire's
pairns.'
"But / thought that the squire was