The times., 1900-12-25
the ceremony he said:

What did / tell zee. viear?"
Peter was DID," said the vicar, "and
breaking fast. 1t was easy 10 guess his
name"
Wait to the next. vicar" said Jan.
'oi'm not proud O. the gift-oi wish Oi
hadn't it; but wait for the next"
Nov, the parish was situated in a
healthy upland district, and the winter
was mild. One or two of the elder peo-
pie suffered the usual ailments of Feb
ruary and March, but there was no seri-
Gus illness. More than once the vicar
was inclined to tear up his envelopes dur
ing that time, for he had come to live
in an expectation of a summons to a
death-bed. But it would have seemed al
most a confession that he gave in, that
he admitted the possibility of second sight
and the possession of it by JAN He cid
not. He assured himself often that he did
not. Indeed it would after all prove
nothing if all three envelopes contained
the correct names. For there were ex-
traordinary flukes; they happened every
day. The vicar had read in his newspa-
per OF them happening at gambling sa-
looms. Jan was just gambling on the
names as player CANDLES on numbers.
No, the vicar did not object to the letters
because he shirked the challenge. but be-
cause they kept him in spite of himself
speculating who of his parishioners would
be the next TO go.
Halfway through March he knew.
servant from the great house on the
hanger above the village came to fetch
him. A runaway horse, a collision with
a cart, and the daughter of the house
seriously hurt-this was the footman's
story The vicar hurried up the hill. The
envelopes in his drawer were at that time
swept clean out of his mind; he had no
thoughts but thoughts of dread and pity.
I'll
nineteen, and she had all her acquai1t-
ances for her friends.
The doctor was already upstairs; the
vicar waited in the great hall with the
girls father, hearing over and over again
broken narrative Of the accident. AT
last the doctor descended and neither of
the two men waiting below had the cour-
age to put question. The doctor replied
to their looks, and replied cheerfuliy. He
recommended that telegram should be
sent for a specialist.
There is a chance, them" asked the
father in a voice he could not raise above
a whisper
More than a chance" replied the doc
tor, and the vicar at once, in spite of
himself, and against his well, certain that
there was no chance-not one In ten
thousand. Perhaps it was that he re-
nlembered q similar question put by him
events, the envelopes were recalled to his
mind. Jan had as much as told him that
the next of his parishioners to go would
be young And conviction which he could
not shake Off stood fixed in his mind, that
Gertrude Leslie" was the name written
within the envelope seemed, as he
stood in the hall listening to the inter-
change of hopeful words. to be actually
reading the name through the envelope
oil Of
that he reused himself to take his leave.
In three days time he had occasion to
open the second envelope. Gertrude
Leslie was the name inscribed on it, and
he opened it on the day of Gertrude Les
lies death.
What did I tell zee, vicar?" said Jan
The vicar turned away without answer
ing He could not argue that Jan had |
merely made a likely guess. Apart from |
the other circumstances, it hardly seemed |
natural that Jan should have guessed at |
the Squire's daughter at all. when there |
were all his cronies and acquaintances to |
select from. The vicar from that mo-
nent took an aversion to Jan as to some |
thing repellart and uneanny; and it be- |
came a surprise to him that the villagers |
the peasant with indifference and !
almost with pity as being endowed with |
4 commonplace but uncomfortable gi.;.
second sight. He owned as much frankly |
70 himself one evening, and took the third |
envelope from the drawer. Il may as well |
burn this, then" he debated "since / am |
already convinced" and even while he
was debating ne replaced it in the drawer.
His disbelief was replaced by curiosity
curiosity to know not so much whose name
was in the envelope, but rather which OF
lis parishioners would be the next TO die
.,-T,s s,L r.f f1r.I
seal would surely illumine him. He felt
hat it would be weak, however, to break
he seal. He had a sense, too, that it would
De wrong; it seemed to him almost that |
I would be an acknowledgment OF sub
mission to the powers Of darkness.
But he kept the envelope, and it tempted |.
Iim like forbidden thing. it called to
him to break the seal ard read, it be-
anne permanent in his thoughts. His
secret look of enquiry. which came into
lis eyes whenever he met or spoke with
hem He was specializing, is it you?"
Ind the spring came.
The vicar threw up his window one
morning and felt his blood renewed. He
rev in the fresh morning air, with a
Consciousness that of late he had been
living in and breathing a miasma. The
rees In his garden were lively and mu-
ender green upon the branches; the black
birds were pecking at his lawn. and be-
ween the blades of grass he saw the shy
white bells of snowdrops He determined
o brush all this oppressive curiosity from
lis mind, to forget the envelope lurking
n his drawer.
He breakfasted, and went out 20 make
call. On his way to the cottage he was
Tisiting he passed the postofIice. BY the
ng with some letters in her hand. She
-aised her hand and slipped one of the
etters into the box just as the vicar came
ID TO her. The vicar was n keen-sghted
nan. and ii. chanced that his eyes fell upon
he envelope He read the superscription
nd recognized the handwriting. The en-
elope was addressed TO JAMS son, a yeo-
nan with the South African field force,
md the address was written in the same
as the names in the envelopes
marked l and which he had opened
$50 you are posting JAMS letters?" said
he vicar. who was a triiie puzzled.
Yes" explained the schOolmistress.
JAMS an old man. and there was no
chool here when he was a boy. So he
lever learnt TO read or write. He tells
ne what he wants to say to his boy. and
write 1t for MIN"
Then yOu know the name in the third
nvelope?" cried the vicar. The question
vas out and spoken before he was aware of
what he said. Then he flushed with shame.
I was humiliGting, It was most undigni-
led. to betray such vehement curiosity.
The vicar was so disconnected that he
ardly paid heed to the confusion and ex-
uses OF the scboolmistress
81 did not know why jan wanted the
ameE written she pleaded. He never
old me. I would never have done ii If
III
nish tricks. / did not guess until the
lI-r-,r do, .L,r I'D L lnI,t. holt L.