The citizen. (Frederick City, Md.) 1895-1923, 1899-07-21
ty herself. and yet harbor evil de-

the extremely frugal fare brought him
Dy an old woman, gnarled Of face and
Knotted OF figure, to whose cackle he
PAID no attention. 1--WE naught in my
purse to pay for this" he flung out fin
ally; nor In my saddle-bags either"
Inc woman chuckled without glee.
yet there was a gentleman came part
way with you," she observed. Look!
he climbs the hill now"
And he travels armed" said Fitzroy
moodily. MY pistol dropped yester-
DAY from broken holster while ford
ed stream. How do know he car
rles aught worth killing a man for?"
by his travelling armed" concisely.
Tut, Mr.. Fitzroy! Do you conceive,
sir, that because luck has hitherto been
with you in sending you towards and
unarmed travellers, who would willingly
give their purses to save their skins,
1t will be SO always? Truly, sir, you
speak like"
"a coward" said Fitzroy. 81 am not
one, but'-his face clearing a little
he who comes hither is a coward, and
| may get off without bloodshed In
faith, | was born a gentleman, and
even in battle, where a man may kill
and not hang for it, there would always
come an uneasy voice between me and
my sword, that would sound like a cry
of reproach from my mother or sister.
Yet | have not seen either of them
since l was lad of twenty. How,
now, sir" starting up as the shadow
of man fell across the doorway. You
have changed your mind?"
81 come to crave your pardon, sir"
said Duncan McDougall, gravely And
to eat supper with you, if this good wo-
man hath aught to give us, Pardon
my suspicious, and give me your COM
pany for the rest OF the road, for in
truth, l am afraid of its loneliness"
Say no MORE" said Fitzroy with few
erish eagerness, helping him dsmount.
I'VE will both eat and sleep here, and
the old woman shall stable your horse
where she hath taken NINE"
McDoughall started slightly as the
crone took the bride. Her appearance
and that of the house, was unpreposses-
sing, and his Scotch cautions returned
on him.
He stood UP rigidly, while Fitzroy
opened his eyes in unfeigned surprise,
and loudly recited long Presbyterian
grace, before he would take the seat in
Dictated for him.
"a man of religion!" exclaimed Fitz-
roy. He had not intended to say it
aloud; but the performance of so dis
tinctly devotional an act in the pres
ence OF stranger was as astounding to
him as 1t was unremarkable to the
Scotsman, who cOmplacently replied
his mouth full of bread and cheese:
Officer of BallantyBe kirk, and a
man OF peace toward ALL"
Yet you travel armed" suggested
Fitzroy ,doubtfully.
"A commendable means of securing
peace, is it not, sir? | hear over-mucl
of these so-called gentlemen of the
road, who kill man in haste and dis.
: cover his poverty at leisure, to have q
mind to ride unprotected when | an
travelling alone"
Have you ever heard asked Fitz
roy, carelessly, "of one they call the
Irish Paddy, who hath been making
himself somewhat officious in these
parts?" The Scotsman shook his
| head The slow-creeping twilight hi
the slow-creeping red in Fitzroy's face
as he said lightly:
"Oh, well, these gentry practice for
gain, rather than fame, so It's not sur.
prising you should not have heard OF
him yet. Besides, he hath so far kept
: his hands clean of blood, they say,
which saves man a deal of notice
But may | ask, sir, why It's you appear
to grudge these poor fellows the name
! of gentleman, to which many of them,
, by birth at least, are entitled"
"Because"-the speakers utterance
was still rendered indistinct by yigor-
, GUS mastication, while Fitzroy sat and
unhappily eyed his food-"being by
birth at least, personally disqualified
for that title, |, an honest man, be-
grudge it to a set of cowardly thieves.
Twas long time since most of them
were born, and | hold that their patent
of gentility hath expired. After all,
it's but bit of Judas work, betrayipg
their harmless fellows for a few filthy
coins. Pah! am farmer, and work
in the dirt all day, but 1 would not
touch such money"
Hold, sir" Grief Fitzroy impetuous-
ly, while the old woman frowned in
the background. "You are harsh, me-
thinks. |, too, am honest, yet | have
the poor mans sympathy for him who
feels the world owes him a living and
the right to collect it,"
And !" disputed McDougall. have
the poor mans sympathy for those
who, having by hard labor collected it.
desire to keep it. 'Tis natural, is it
not?"
You argue well, sir; yet there is
something to say for the highwaymen
Sometimes. Take the case of him |
ldsL spoke of. the Irishman they call
Paddy of the Roads 'Tis not a man
l admire, nor would | willingly stand
in his shoes; yet tbs said he was fine,
gallant lad ten years since, ruined at
cards by cheating CANISTER Colonel
whom he could not denounce-"
Why" said the Scotsman, that l
call cowardice."
What mean you, sir! What dare
you?" Fftzroy's hand was where SOL
diers carry their swords. He had
sprung to his feet, and his voice echoed
Indignantly to the low rafters. 81 will
not-tut, what vile temper l am in,
for that | am crossed in a friendly ar
gument! Pardon me, sir; and laugh
at my heat as much as you wish"
! But it was not |; lighter that looked
out in the steadfast gaze of McDougall.
who had laid down his knife and fork
The two men were alone, the woman
having slipped out to fodder the horses.
In sickening anxiety Fitzroy awaited
the next speech. wi use slow. unchang.
ed tones brought til breath back to his
quivering body:
81, myself, may uix as hot in putting
the other case thu Of the honest wav.
faring man Of trade or toll. I, for in
stance, Of course, carry naught worth
taking"