The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, 1898-06-17
CHAPTER l.

I was a great solitary when I was
aloof and suffice for my W entertain
ment. and l may say that l had
neither friends nor ac~quainta:lceb until
/ met that friend who became my
wife and the mother OF my children.
With n man only l was on private
terms. This was R. Northmour, Esq.
of Garden Easter, in Scotland. We a
met at college, and though there was
not much liking between us nor even
much intimacy, we were SO much or a
humor that we could associate with
ease to both. Misanthropes we beliey-
ed ourselves to be, but have thought
since that we were only sulky fellows.
1t was scarcely a companionship, u
a co-existence in unsociabiiity. North
mour's exceptional violence OF temper
made 1t no easy affair for him to keep
the peace with any one but me; and as
he respected my silent ways and let me
come and go as l pleased, l could toll
crate his presence without concern. l
think we called each other friends.
When Northmour took his degree.
and I decided to leave the university
without one, he invited me on a long
visit to Graden Easter, and it was thus
that l first became acquainted with
the scene Of my adventures. The man
sion house of Graden stood in a bleak
stretch of country some three miles
from the shore of the German ocean.
1t was as large as a barrack, and as it
had been built Of a soft stone liable to
consume in the eager air of the seaside,
it was damp and draughty within and
half ruinous without. 1t was impossi-
BILE for two men to ledge with comfort
in such a dwelling.
But there stood In the northern Fart
OF the estate, In a wilderness Of links
and blowing sandhills and between a
plantation and the sea, a small pavilion
or Belvedere Of modern design, which
was exactly suited to our wants, and In
this hermitage, speaking little, reading
much, and rarely associating except at
meals, Northmour and l spent foul
tempestuous winter months. I might
have stayed longer, but one March
night there sprang up between us a
dispute which rendered my departure
necessary. Ncrthmour spoke holly, l
remember, and 1 suppose l must have
made some tart rejoinder.
He leaped from his chair and grap-
pied me; / had to fight, without eHag-
geration, for my life, and it was only
with a great effort that 1 mastered him.
for he was near as strong in body as
myself and seemed filled with the devil.
The next morning we met on our usual
terms, but l judged it more delicate to
withdraw, nor did he attempt to dis
suade me.
1t al nine years before I revisited
the neighborhood. 1 travelled at that
time with a tilt cart, a tent, and a
cooking stove, tramping all day beside
the wagon and at night, whenever it
was possible, gypsying in a cove of the
hills or by the side Of a wood. I be-
lieve l visited in this manner most OF
the wild and desolate regions both in
England and Scotland, and as l had
neither friends nor relations I was
troubled with nc correspondence, and
had nothing in the nature CT headquar-
tiers, unless it was the Office of my So
l~icitors, from whom 1 drew my income
twice a year.. 1t was a life in which I
delighted, and l fully thought to have
grown old upon the march and at last
died in a ditch.
1t was my whole business to find des-
olate corners where l could camp with
out the fear Of interruption, and hence
being in another part of the same shire
I b%ethought me suddenly of the PaVil-
ion on the Links. No thoroughfare
passed within three miles of it. The
nearest town, and that was but a fisher
village, was at a distance Of six or
seven.
The pavilion stood on an even space;
a little behind it, the wood began in a
hedge of elders huddled together by
the wind; in front, a few tumbled
sand hills stood between it and the sea.
An outcropping of rock had formed a
bastion for the sand, so that there was
here a promontory in the coast line
between two shallow bays; and just
beyond the tides, the rock again crop
ped out and formed an islet of small
dimensions but strikingly designed.
The pavi1ion-it had been built by
the last proprietor, Northmour's uncle,
a silly and prodigal virtuoso-presented
little signs of age. 1t was two stories
in height, Italian in design, surround
ed by a patch of garden in which moth
ing had p%rospered but a few coarse
flowers, and locked, with its shattered
windows, not like a house that had been
tenanted by Northmour was
plainly from home; whether, as usual,
sulking in the cabin of his yacht, o
in one Of his fitful and e~xtravagant ap-
pearances in the world Of society, l had,
of course, no means of guessing.
/ found a den, or small hollow, where
there was a spring Of pure water, and
there, clearing away the brambles, 1
pitched the tent and made a fire to cook
my supper. My horse l picketed farth-
er in the wood where there was a patch