The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser. (Upper Marlborough, Md.) 1882-1925, 1903-11-27

Senorita was never found, nor did the
administrator come back. The old
man thought he was drowned as we'll
as his daughter, and we agreed not to
let him know the real state of affairs.
Better to mourn her dead than to
know she had deserted him in his
blindness and age.
Then new life began, Caro-. Your
grandmother and l took up our resi-
dence with the master and cared for
him, while Senor Hernandez undertook
to fill the administrators place and
manage the two ranches together, and
thus passed four quiet years In the
long twilight, when the master and the
Senor sat on the gallery and I on
tree stump smoking my pipe, would
hear the Senor Hernandez play on his
violin-strange, weird and beautiful
sounds, that the master, who was pas
sionately fon6 of music, loved to hear
There was one piece, Caro-, that the
Senor played oftener than any other
tune that made your grandmother
restless and that filled my heart with
tears. l asked the Senor one day
what it was, and he looked at me
strangely.
"You would not know the meaning
of it, Santos" he said, cit is 'Lochaber
no more.'"
Often l woke up in the silent night
to hear the sound of the violin some
where on the river bank, and the tune
always the same. "Lochaber," the
reed-like strings would b-"Lochaber
no more, no more, no more"
X
The autumn nearly five years after
the Senorita's flight from home we had
very busy season.
The harvest of cotton and grapes
was good, and the fields were crowded
with laborers at work from dawn until
dusk. One morning l had been with
the cattle for several hours, as my duty
was, and noticed one of the bulls, an
ugly fellow, seemed to be in a worse
humor than usual, so I cautioned
Pietro to watch him, and not on any
account leave The gates open or let
any of the herd stray out in the road;
but Pietro, that foolish one, had his
mind on other things, and, alas! he
proved faithless to his trust.
The afternoon waxed late, and the
great herds of cattle roamed hither
and thither. The air was still and
clear, and the men and women in the
fields sang harvest songs as they pass
ed up and down the long rows of COT
ton plants. The master sat on the
gallery and smoked. l see him now
in his wide sombrero, his dark eyes
beautiful, as blind eyes often are not,
while his long gray beard and gray
shirt, his short trousers and high rid
ing boots, made him appear a grand
figure.
Silent he sat until, knocking the
ashes from his pipe, he arose and
walked down to the gate, feeling his
way with his stick. He passed out of
the enclosure, and down the road, a
way he had sometimes in the late
afternoon; his dog, Scotch collie, 60
ing ahead and acting as guide. To
me it used to seem as if he was always
listening and watching for some one to
come-one who never came.
was rubbing down the masters s
horse-he and the Senor had been
riding tina. afternoon-when I look
ed up Sue load, and far off I saw,
outlined against the evening sky,
the figures of a woman and little
child. They were coming toward us
some negroes or Mexicans, thought;
the master, also, was coming that way
a short distance ahead of them. The
out-buildings, where l was, looked up
the road, toward these figures, while
behind me, lower down the road, were
the cattle fields near the river. Hav-
ing groomed the horses, turned them
loose and then came back to the fence
and looked up the road again. The
master was standing still now and
seemed to be listening, while the wo-
man and child were only about two
hundred yards behind him. The child
began to run; long after, Caro-, l re-
membered thinking he looked like the
Christ Child. His fair hair was blown
back in the breeze, and his little arms
were outstretched, while the red dress
or tunic he wore was lit up by the set
ting sun, making him appear as if
bathed in blood like little martyr of
of God.