Aberdeen herald. [volume] (Aberdeen, Chehalis County, W.T.) 1886-1917, 1905-09-25
Ills Hearts Desire
By SIR WALTER BESANr

By SIR WALTER BESANT

with us, and sat in the old-fashioned gar
den of Sidcote, under a gnarled and an
cient apple tree.
"Our David" said. twas always in
clined to be loutish. He has been devel-
oping and cultivating that gift for SIX
years-with pleasing result"
"There Is something on his mind
said George. perhaps he will tell us
what it is; perhaps not. David was
never particularly open about himself.
Strange that he should begin by looking
for his uncle's grave. Why did he think
that he was dead?'
"He believed what he hoped. no
doubt"
"In the evening. Harry Rabjahns tells
me, he had kind Of fla hysterical
fit of laughing and crying-in the inn"
THAT was perhaps because he had
learned that his uncle was still alive"
This was indeed the case, though not IN
the sense I intended.
"And this morning. the first day OF his
return, he begins with row with his
uncle Well, there is going to be mis-
chief Mt Gratnor."
why, what mischief can there beT'
IL don't know. David went away
cursing his uncle. After six years he
comes back cursing him again. When
man broods over a wrong for six years.
mischief does generally follow. First of
all, the old man will do nothing for him.
Do you understand that? There was 4
solid obstinacy in his eyes while he list
ened to David. Nothing is to be got out
Of him. What will David doT
HE will so away again, I suppose.
unless he takes farm work"
David is as obstinate as his uncle.
And he Is not altogether a fool. There
will be mischief"
George, old man, return to my old
thought. If you and Mary marry with
out old Dams consent, her fortune goes
to David. Does David knowY
II should think not"
'oTo which of the two would the old
man prefer to hand over that money!"
"To Mary certainly"
$50 think. Then don't you see that
some good may come out Of the business
after alp"
1T may come, but too late to save
Sidcote. He means to have Sdcote. My
days here are numbered. Well, it Is a
pity after five hundred years"-he look
ed around at the inheritance about to
pass away from him-only a farm of
three hundred acres. but his fathers and
his great-grandfather's- he was ST.
lent for a moment. "As for work, what
would grudge if could keep the old
place! But l know that over at Gratnor
there sits, watching and waiting his
chance, the man who means to have my
land, and will have it before the end of
the year."
patience. George. Anything may
happen"
HE is a crafty and a dangerous man,
Will. We can say here what we cannot
say in. Marys presence. He is more
crafty and more dangerous now that he
is paralyzed and cannot get about among
his fields than he was in the old days
He cannot get at me by the same arts
as he employed for David. He cannot
persuade me to drink, and to sign agree
ments and borrow money. But the bad
times have done for me what drink did
for David"
So we talked away the afternoon in
rather gloomy spirit. Life is no more
free from sharks in the country than in
the town; there are in Arcadia as we'll
as in London, vultures. beasts, and birds
of prey. who sit and watch their chance
to rend the helpless.
And So" he said, summing up, 81
shall have to part with the old family
place, and begin in the world again; go
out as David went out, and return. per-
haps, as he returned"
mo, George; some things are possible,
but not probable. That you should come
back as David has come back is not pos
sble."
At that moment the man of whom we
spoke came slowly out Of the house, rub
bling his eyes.
When you are among the blacks"
he said you never get enough to eat"
What are you going to do now you
are come home. DavidT'
II will tell you. George. in day or
two. The old man says he will do moth
ing for NEWELL see to that presently.
He's turned the old farm house ut Berry
into two cottages. and the buildings are
ling to pieces. Says l can take up
my quarters in one of the cottages, if l
like; that is liberal. isn't it? And | am
to earn my living how l can; that's gen
erous. isn't it?'
"Try Cancellation, David"
"No. viii; l think l know a better
plan than conciliatiOn."
CHAPTER XIII.
This was all that David told us. We
saw. indeed. very little Of him after this
day. He took what we gave him without
q word of thanks, and he did not pre-
tend the least interest in either of us or
our doings or our welfare. Yet he had
known both Of US all his life. and he was
but FIVE or six years older. A strange
return! Knowing now all that l know.
l am certain that he was dazed and con-
founded, first at finding his uncle alive,
and next at the reception he met with.
He was thinking Of these things and of
that new plan Of his. yet imperfect. by
which he could wreak revenge upon his
uncle. This made him appear duller and
more stupid than was his nature.
We sat waiting for more experiences.
but none came. How. for instance. one
would have been pleased to inquire. came
an honest Devonshire man to consort
| with a gang Of fellows who had all
done something" and were rowing and
tramping about the country ready to do
something else. Before David lost his
head he used to drink. but not with
rogues and tramps. Yet now he confess
ID uyifhnuf auv ahama IN having hppn