Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1901-01-15

introducing Mason, "is q doctor, and
he's promised to sit up with your sis
ter, Tom. So you can make yourself
easy, you can 90 to bed yourself and
snore yourself hoarse."
Tom raised his head at this intelli'
gence, and it was evident that he waa
much relieved In his mind by It BE
saluted again and quickened his pace
as he laid the cloth on the table.
The old grandmother meanwhile sat
by the fire in exactly the same position
as when Mason had first entered the
house. And she watched the stranger
In exactly the same way as before,
moving her eyes. but not her head. and
looking, now that he was less dazzled
by the lights and able to take better
view Of her. more like a witch than
ever.
The farmer, whose sense Of hospital
ity had grown keen with his gratitude
to the doctor, now insisted on his COM
Ing up stairs again to his own room,
taking of his overcoat and his wet
boots and putting on pair Of carpet
slippers belonging to the farmer him.
self.
This bedroom, which was over the
kitchen, contained two beds, like the
other, and was furnished in the same
plain and solid manner. An absence OF
the few small pictures and ornaments
which had relieved the severity Of the
back room was the chief point Of dis
tinction Of the apartment occupied by
the farmer and his son. Everywhere
there was the same exquisite cleanli-
ness; everywhere the same prevalence
Of whitewash. Here, as in the other
rooms, the old windows had been filed
up with bricks and mortar, and new
ones, small, mean. latticed. had been
introduced into the depths Of the old
monastic walls.
Mason hurried down stairs after
the farmer. eager and anxious to learn
the history Of the ring which his host
had promised to tell him.
He feared. however, from the indif.
ference with which he had treated the
subject that the farmer could have but
little to relate. II he had known Of q
tragedy connected with the fate of'its
late possessor, he could not have hand
ed the relic so readily, so calmly, to
the first man who came to him with a
tale about II. On the other hand, 1t
seemed probable that Masson's in
quiries would set the farmer thinking
and that gratitude for services render
ed to his daughter might make him
ready to do his best to assist the doc
tor in his researches into the mystery.
1t was not until after supper was
over. however. that Mason got n
chance Of speaking upon the subject
so near to his heart. The old woman
had Disappeared; had gone up to
Gwyn, 80 the farmer explained. The
three men had the meal by themselves.
Nothing was now good enough for the
stranger, whose first appearance had
been made SO unpropitiously. The
farmer and his son both waited upon
him, pressed him to do justice to the
we'll spread board and treated him
with the utmost Difference and cour-
tesy.
There was a fourth plate upon the
table, which Mason supposed to have
been placed for the old woman. How
ever. when supper was half over. the
farmer rested his knife and fork for
an instant on the table and asked
shortly:
where's Merrick"
Tom, who was chary Of his words
and who seemed also to speak English
with difficulty, shook his head.
II declare" went on the farmer,
whose appetite had been so much at
fected by his anxiety for his daughter
that he ate but little, "I'd forgotten all
about the fellow. Hasn't he been inT
I'm and out again." answered his son
laconically. when he heard
Tom turned his eyes slyly and shyly
In the direction of the guest and said
no more.
The farmer turned to Mason.
"Too shy, the great oaf, to come in
when he heard of a stranger being
here, sirr said he.
Another son of yoursY asked the
doctor.
"No, sir, but my hand on the farm.
he and me and Tom does 1t all, 'cept-
Ing for the help we used to get from
poor Gwyn, and extry hand or 80 In
the lambing season and to get in such
poor crops as we have up here. And
now, sir, II you please to smoke, will
you light up your pipe and take this
chair in the cornerT
Supper being over, Tom cleared tho
table in the same awkward manner In
which he had laid 1t, and then disap-
peared, with half loaf Of bread In
one hand and heaped up plateful Of
meat In the other.
They're pals. those two" said the
farmer, jerking his head back In the
direction his son had taken, as he went
up stairs himself to take another look
at his daughter. always hang to-
gether, do Merrick and Tom."
And the farmer shut the door be-
tween the kitchen and the washhouse
with q nod to Mason which was
meant as An apology for leaving him
to himself.
Let alone, comfortably seated in tho
large armchair by the glowing IRE
which was built up Of peat and logs,
the young doctor stretched out bis
legs in q moments blissful ease Of
body, a moments triumph Of the
frame over the spirit.
Worn out by the long days climbing
and struggling, straining Of the eyes
and stress Of the mind, Reginald Mas,
son sat inert, motionless, with all his
faculties benumbed, in a delicious,
drcwsy sense Of peace. For q moment
even his desperate anxiety about his.
brothers fate was dulled. He sat back
with his head on the old red cushion,
hearing the roaring and whistling OF
the wind without listening to 1t, the
Kissing Of the hard snow showers
against the window panes and the
cracking Of the fire as the fakes came
down the chimney and, melting as
they fell, reached the glowing logs
which spluttered and then burned the
more fiercely for the moisture.
He closed his eyes, and presently,
lulled by the warmth, the comfort,
worn out by fatigue both Of body and