Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1900-01-06

notably Umphray spurway and our old
| Caleb Clinkaberry. that 1 know the order
of events: as 1t We're. by heart.
My mother lay on the bed to which Caleb
had carried her. with her eyes closed, and
stood beside with white rags and liniments
in my hands. gasping and swallowing in
my throat at the sight Of blood, while Ca
leb, with a pair of little scissors cut open
my mothers bodice SO that in a little while
he found the wound in her right shoulder.
| Then I can recall hearing him murmur to
himself for all the world like mother
over bairn). Mary Digby, my little Mary
| that l brought up by the hand ever since
Sir Eubule did give you into my care-at
Theobald's inn 1t was, the hour before he
died! An Ill chance-an evil star, a heath
enlsh country-and the devil for an huS-
band. All! my little Mary, that 1 who vert
thy nurse should live to see thy blood
! flow
But, nevertheless. he staunched the
wound, and having done that which he
could, he found my mother with her senses
restored trying to sit up in her bed and
asking in Gods name what the mat
ter. And great mercy 1t was that she
minded nothing of the dreadful fact itself.
nor yet of the face of her husband at the
window.
And in this fashion we sat all night. I
| quaking with fear lest the curtains that
| hid the barred lattice should again be
| parted or the door below burst open with a
clank and the murderer rush upon us with
| horrid cry. But Caleb had all safely bar
RED, and musket loaded, toward which he
| looked often he went about mutterine
| and shaking his head.
For this will yet stay his career. The
bloody and evil man shall not live half his
I days!
| I must not forget to say that Caleb was
| follower of George Fox, being one of the
| folk called Quakers-only he said but little
apout ~; sor they We're people of little
esteem in Scotland. Yet now when Caleb s
darling maid as he called my mother,
was touched. 10, he who had preached peace
so long turned out as great a man of war
| as the best of them.
| SO We sat, and for my part 7 oueked
every time that rat ran rumbling from
garrett to cellar. which they did ali night.
or even q mouse scratched in the wanscot
| Ihen my mother, growing heated and
| feverish with her green wound, rambIed on
| about Clieveden end NARROW, with many
| names and places pleasant sounding but to
! me unknown And Caleb. he bent over
| ana put paste Of water mixed with elder
| hover wine to her lips, murmured Yes.
] my pretty, and so thou shalt! To NARROW
| thou shalt go with old Caleb and gather
| water lilies yellow and water lilies white"
Il love the white best! she said smiling
a little and looking so young like out of her
| eyes. for that moment she seemed scarce
| older than l. Nor was she. for my mother
had again become Mary Digby, the squire 8
| little maid, of Great NARROW. and was pull
| Ing flowers in the fair woods of Clieveden,
| as she had done more than twenty year
| agone.
| bul VI OHpnTay SpurWay no word or sign
| or remembrance. l doubt If either of the
| others ever thought Of him all that night
| though he had gone out into the dark to
| face the terrible man who was our bane.
| But could see him lying in a forest glade
ana my father bending over him with the
| knife had seen wiped clean on the leaf of
| Baxter, his Saints Rest, and that terrible
! smile on his face. l shuddered as thought
of 1t.
Yet in spite Of all, the house of the lodge
with thousand creaking noises; the moan
| and whimper Of the wind in the chimneys
and the brushing sound 1t made out among
| the tossing trees l dozed, waking by starts
to find the lamp light falling on Caleb his
| unsleeping eyes watching my mother in
shadow, turning rapidly to and fro on her
bed and mut;ering to herself of old days
and people of whom 1 had never heard.
| Scraps would come to me as from another
world.
Good CATER Noddycap, let me go in here
out OF the rain. Goody will give me a seat
by the hearth till it overpass. And here
declare, Is young VIII Lucy! What can
bring him hither at this time of day? How
sir!' '0N
Then would old Caleb throw out his hand
and uplift his eyes to the ceiling.
God help u.s." he muttered; .'she is again
agog on Squire Lucy's Master VIII! Dead
dead. these sixteen year. He died fighting
the Dutch the year his father sent him tc
sea. because he was growing overload OF
our little Mary!'
Again would doze off, and when walked
1t would go something like this: IT will
II must. must. Mother, do not send me
away alone with that man.
| And then for the first time in life there
| came across me with . Jared and impoten,