Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1903-12-08
CHAPTER III.

Church bells were ringing on March
morning. They rang under a sky half
covered with a latter of ragged cloud,
through the vivid rents whereof broad
sunshine poured. The wind, which buff
feted the music of the bells, chased the
tattered clouds so swiftly that the sun
light flowed over the heath, the cluster of
cottages, and the church, like a series of
charging waves.
A quarter of a mile away from the
center of the music which tumbled in
such exuberant and wind-swept mirth,
stood sign post, holding four gaunt
arms. Against it leaned Ned Blame,
wearing an air of deep chagrin, and kick
ing with occasional sudden emphasis at
any projecting bit of turf which lay
within reach.
While he lounged thus detected he was
unaware of the approach of a portly
broadcloth parsonage, who picked his
way with a cat-like nicely and delibera-
ton among the shining puddles on the
western road This person had for a
long time held in view the figure of the
melancholy lounger at the sign post
Finding himself still unnoticed, when be
had grown quite near he coughed behind
one of his glossy gloves with an air of
accident, and having thus attracted the
loungers notice, he babe him good morn
ing. There are people who In speaking
convey the impression that their vocal
organs are oiled. Mr. Horatio Lowther
was one of these. His salute was q
benediction. Ned drew himself up with
start and blushed like fire. He pushed
back the soft felt hat and nodded in
answer to the salutation.
1T is a lovely morning." said Mr..
| Lowther, pausing. 1T gives one sense
Of" He did not say what it gave
one sense of, but he waved his shining
black gloves hither and thither, and smil-
ed with the look of a man who has
achieved a conversational felicity.
Ned's face wore an expression of dis
guSted WEAKNESS which he tried in vain
to replace by one of interest as he sur
veyed the landscape, in answer to the
invitation conveyed by the waving black
gloves.
''The weather's right enough" he an
swered.
THE bells" said Mr.. Lowther. 1.-THE
bells Those morning bells! How many
tale their music tells! l perrisume"
he had a knack which suited his voice
and face to perfection, of lengthening
| certain words i'll this way-"I perrisume
they are ringing for young Hackett."
| Ned looked at him with sudden keen
ness. Mr.. Lowther, with his head slight
| ly thrown back and little ON one side,
was smiling softly and benevolently at
nature and the bells, and appeared to be
unaware of the others gaze. Observing
this, the young man answered in an I'M
interested tone;
Yes, they are ringing for Will Hack
ett."
Has it occurred to your asked Mr..
| Lowther, preserving his attitude and his
| smile-"do you think
Has what occurred to me-? asked
the other looking up at him.
THAT Hackett might have done-I
wouldn't indicate a breath to disparage
the young lady" He was still smiling
softly at the landscape and the bells, and
could not be supposed to know that
Blame was looking at him with eyes of
wrath and wonder. But might he not
now-might he not have done a little
/ better?"
Perhaps he might. l don't know
where though. 1t seems to me he has
done a lot better than he deserves"
1T may be so,'' responded Mr.. Low
ther 1T may be so. But in worldly
sense"
1T is his own affair" said Blame, as
if the talk wearied him.
"Assuredly," Mr.. Lowther answered.
| ooh. yes. Assuredly. Quite his own
affair" He paused there and smiled on
his companion. Il do not say that we
| should set too lofty a valleyou on our
worldly goods. but it behooyes us to be
careful even of our own temporary well
/ fare. Do you happen to know if our
young friend receives anything with the
| bride?"
NO" said Ned, loudly and with angry
emphasis.
MY dear young friend" cried Mr..
Lowther, somewhat taken aback by this
unleokedfor vehemence. and recoiling
| pace or two.
Il am not your dear young friend"
said Ned, with a smile, which had as
much anger as amusement in it. Il
| have nothing in the world to talk TO you
about and would great dea! rather
be alone"
That replied Mr.. Lowther very
sweetly, lis an invitation not to hnger.
will accept il in that sense, Mr.. Blame.
/ and will wish you good morning"
The windy music of the bells and the
swiftly alternating bands of shade and
shine were still careering over the heath
as Mr. I.owther turned his broadcloth
back upon the finger post, and left the
| young man staring sadly after him.
What do you want TO know about
VIII Hackett's affairs for? Is he in
/ your clutches. you fat old spider? Heav-
en- help nim if he is! The bit he has left
won't be long in going after what he
used TO have il he has got into your
web"
| Until the actual coming of the we'd
/ ding day he had never been able to con-
vince himself that his sweetheart would
really make SO bad business of herself
as to marry win Hackett. Something
was to have turned up to prevent so
1 egregious sacrifice. some outbreak on
the part OF the intended bridegroom. or
discovery on the side OF his victim. His
wife could be nothing less than victim
10 the unlucky rivals fancy, and he
found people enough to agree with him
and confirm him in his opinion.
Ned had quite resolved 10 see nothing
of the wedding ceremony, for TO what
good end should he vex himself by that?
And yet here he was. 8 mile nearer the
parish church than he had a right 10 be.
and hankering after pain with that I'M
reasoning instinct which prompts children
to irritate sore places. When Mr.. Bora-
ito Iowther had got some two or three
hundred yards away Ned lounged after
him slowly and irresolutely.
There were no faces at the cottage
windows and no idlers or wayfarers IN
the road. The bells were silent now.
for the wedding procession had entered
the church. He must needs enter the
porch. and there, in company with two or
three peeping children. whom his pres
eaee awed into supernatural gravity and
silence. listen 70 the Eaarmurins and
eehoing voice OF the minister SIS it rolled
indistinctly about the hollow building.
which was more than five-sixths empty.