The Van Buren press. [volume] (Van Buren, Ark.) 1859-1914, 1896-09-12

PLANTATION OF the mystery of the night.
An owl had found It's way down the
open chimney into the dining-room.
The sooty impress Of its wings ard
talons was traced al over the white
washed ceiling and eornices, and one
could see where the terrified bird had
elung desperately 10 the exposed bell
wires.
1t might be the harbinger ~ an
other night wanderer. Barbara stepped
forth into the morning air, and making
her way to the spot where the Lindean
burn breaks from under the cover Of
the wood stood shading her eyes with
her wrinlled hand and gazing wlstful-
" along the road that wound down
into the plain. Under the ragged cam
opY of the leaves bro0ded pale, amber
eolored light. Not a breath of air
vas stirring; yet the russell and yellow
leaves lost their hold and foated down
70 earth in a perpetual gentle shower.
The first snow OF winter had fallen.
It lay in the hollows of the wood IN
long swathes, like winding sheets,
which the descending leaves had spot
ted as with blood The scarlet hipber-
ries CLEANED from the naked thorns
above tangled tapestry of bracken and
bramble. With the stream foated fTail
and painted argosies, and below the sur
face the water was full of sodden and
rotten leaves, all on a downward yoy-
age. Nature was visibly dying from age
and exhausted energies. 1t was lovely
with the loyeliness Of decay. Near and
far the landscape was full of strange.
crude notes OF color. The trunks of the
birch trees that lined the course of
the brook glimmered whitley through
the pale purple haze of their lichened
branches. Beyond them the golden
tassels of the larches rose above the
funeral plumes of the spruce wood.
On the dead-green Of the steep grassy
banks were ruddy sears and gashes;
and lower down. where the morning
fog was rising like smoke from the
stubble-land, the plowmen were turn
ing long red burrows.
Ont of the mist. making his way to-
wards the house of Lindean, emerged
a man on horseback. 4 flush of Joy came
into Barbara's withered cheek, and she
made several swift steps towards the
house. She stopped to look again, and
light faded from her eyes and color
from her face. This was not the riding
Of Blackadder of Lindean The men
of that blood rode with straight back
and free rein, whether they were fol-
lowing their king to battle or hunting
the kings subjects on the MOSES of the
Iammermuirs. Barbara waited as II
frozen TO the ground until the horseman
came up. He was messenger from the
nearest village, and ne held out TO her a
letter in a red envelope. 1t was adj
dressed TO her, and she opened it me-
ehanically and looked at the writing
within. 1t was a telegram from the
neighboring market town; and it told
III its summary way that Lord Lindean
was on his way to his own house-dead.
lie had come so far on the previous day,
intending to ride home the same night.
But, changing his mind, he had gone to
his bedroom in the inn. He had his
gun-case with him, and the piece may
have exploded by accident in his hands /;
er-heayen only knows! A shot was
heard, and he was found with his brains
spattered on the floor.
How much of the message old Bar
bara comprehended no one may say,
She knew that the last prop of the
house Of Lindean had fallen, and her
heart stood still for ever. She sank to
earth, with the letter clenched in her
grasp, and the dead leaves floated down
on her white head. There was none to
receive the last lord of Lindean.-BlaclI
| and White.