The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1897-12-01
(Chapter [ confirmed. \

though Tor the lover of wild landscape
tney possess beauty of their own. On
the afternoon of which we are writing,
there was little to brighten or animate
the scene. Thick clouds We're drifting
from the Atlantic and clustering in grey
vapour round the distant mountains of
Mulrany and Achill, and inland driz-
zly rain was falling from the gray and
sunless sky. On either side of the road
pursued by Langford stretched barren
pogs and watery pastures, divided into
sections by grey stone walls. with here
and there glimpse of lonely homestead
and olump of leafiess trees.
PRESENTLY Langford refined in his horse.
ana suffered it to walk, while he sat in
ohe saddle, lost in gloomy meditation. In
this fashion he pursued his solitary way
Tor several miles, until he saw in the dis
lance the roofs and ohimneys of the little
town Of Newport. He then stopped his
horse, and after moments reflection
turned into narrow bye-road which led
to the left in the direction of the sea.
Urging his horse into n trot, he proceed
ed rapidly for about a mile, when the
road ended in broken stone wall. Leap
ing the wall he found himself in a
meadow of thick coarse grass at the fur
Their extremity of which facing the sea
was house built of white stone-a large
and lonely house much stained and dam
aged by wind and weather, but having
the appearance of having been at some
distant period fine mansion. Attached
to it were walled gardens and large or
chard full of trees which yielded little
fruit.
This was Langford House where the
family of Langford had dwelt for genera.
tions and where he q bachelor, and the
last Of his line, still resided.
A solitary place, far removed from any
human abode. Although there was
room there for large establishment (as
the auctioneers express it), everything
was disordered, dilapidated, and tumble-
down. The house itself faced q weedy
lawn, at the bottom of which was stone
we'll. and beyond the well stretched green
saltings. and salt pools, covered at high
tide by the sea.
Not human creature was visible, as
Langford rode round to the front door
but the sound of his horses hoofs was
heard within the house, for an upper
window opened, and a face looked out
the face of an old woman.
ANY news, Nannie?'' he asked, look
Ing up.
where's Michael?''
"Sure, he's here. Will bid him come
down and take your honour's horse?'
mo; I'm going on beyond Newport,
to meet the police.
4ACIo . 41O OAAfaASS VI ulO pOOI yOuAk
LADY,"
"None."
Crest her sowl in glory, they'll be
missing her sorely yonder at the Castle. ,"
''If the police come here tell them I've
ridden on to Patrick Blake's. You un-
derstand?''
Eyes, your honour
He turned his horses head and moved
slowly away, but pausing at the side of
the house, he gazed quietly at the dismal
saltings and distant sea.
Poor Cauherinel' he muttered. "She
was right, after all, to turn away from
such house as this What fool and a
mailman / have beenP'
A little later he rode into the town of
Newport, and paused a moment opposite
the hotel, where group of ragged gossips
was collected.
Has Captain Kennedy passed through
the town" he asked.
"No, your honour answered q man.
touching his forelock.
He pricked his horse with the spurs,
and trotted on, while the group behind
pathy.
Poor gintleman! He looks heartbrck-
en-, and small wonder" said the man who
had answered his question. They re
sayin' the poor lady is lying kilt at the
bottom of the sayi"
Chapter III.
inst outside Newport, the highway
divides into two roads, one winding al
most due west along the borders of Clew
Bay, the other turning northWards along
the mountains of Mayo. Langford took
the latter, which followed the sides of a
shallow river, brawling, brown with mud
and peat moss, and swollen by the recon +
foods.
ulL-o, Tr;,h ,,,iJao AWAY IN tha roadside
and facing the river, was two STORED
dwelling rooted with slate, and surround
ed with farm buildings and cattle sheds.
Over the door of this house was exhibited
the legend, "John Carey, licensed to sell
spirits and tobcaooo," and hero, as sort
Of permanent lodger, resided MIR. Patrick
Blake, the man whom Langford was
seeking.
In front of the house, and behind it,
rose the steep and barren mountains,
feathered on the lower slopes with stunt
ed heather and grass but for the most
part black, shiny and bare. Between
them, rushing past the high road, was
the river.
Langford rode slowly up to the inn. A
savage looking man, dressed in the usual
long tail coat, knee breeches, and narrow
brimmed high hat sat on wooden seat
near the door, splicing broken salmon
rod. He looked up with a scowl as the
horseman approached. and then, recog-
nizing him, touched his hat. Langford
leapt from the saddle.
"Look after the mare, Timlin," he
said. II want to speak to Mr.. Blake, If
he's at home"
"He's in there, your honour" replied
the man, holding the horse by the bride,
and jerking his thumb towards the house.
There's company wild him from Castle
bar"
Langford entered the inn and found
himself in large kitchen, where an
elderly woman was bending over an iron
pot. Beyond the kitchen was a closed
door, through which came the sound of
mems voices Without a word to the
woman, who seemed startled by his ap-
pearance, Langford strobe across the floor,
opened the closed door, and standing on
the threshold, gazed with an angry scoWl
on the room within.
1t was small, low-roofed tap room
with one window looking on the rear of
the house. Its only furniture was long
wooden table and several forms. Seated
at the table were four men, with whis-
key bottle and glasses before them, play
ing cards.
Two Of these men were peasants closely
resembling the man whom Langford met
I IL Il Fol