The Semi-weekly leader., 1906-05-09
Ii.


You see / am as good as my word.
The Kingscote Oak must go. 1t is the
last link between me and the work
house-for it almost comes to that"
1t was evident that the relationship
between these two was something
more binding that the ordinary ties
existent between casual acquaintances
of opposite sex. Each seemed to ac-
cept the situation as inevitable. Then
the girl went on, hurriedly:
You'll catch cold, Alaric, dear, if
you stand still without your coat in
this bitter cold. Let me hold the
lantern for you while you work"
She snatched up the light. He,
| obedient to her injunction, applied
his weapon with renewed vigor. The
lamplight threw a warm glow over
his Weather-tanned face and muscular
arms.
For time he labored on, his whole
being concentrated on the performance
of his herculean task. After a space
he paused to rest. A great wound on
the mighty bole of the oak showed
how sure had been his strenuous
endeavors.
When he ceased she broke Tito
quick speech.
ut seems incredible" she murmur-
| ed. "that you, Kingscote, of the same
race, the same blood as ourselves,
should be forced to toll like this-like
a common laborer," The man came
quickly forward, and flung his arm
around her waist. Their lips met in
kiss that could not be mistaken for
mere cousinly salution.
"Damaris Kingscote," he said,
steadily enough. .'let us be frank one
with the other. What are the facts?
am the poor relation-the blot on
the family 'scutcheon of the squire,
your father. He resents my proximity;
/ loathes the very idea of our love;
therefore he has brought his batteries
/ to bear upon me and mine. All that
he could do to ruin me he has done,
and heaven knows that he had been
successful enough.
The girls eyes brimmed over with
tears. Alaric was quick to note her
ready sympathy and, he gripped his
axe anew, the silence vibrating once
more with the ringing cadence of his
rhythmic blows.
Presently he rested once again.
"Damaris,' he said, "did you ever
hear the legend that runs in our
branch of the family, that but for
some strange whim of chance should
have been in the squire's place today,
the ruler of the destiny of Kingscote
Glebe Farm? From father to son the
tradition has been handed down that
Nigel Kingscote, the cavalier, juggled
~, with tho q XrTc
of succession-that it was not the son
of the eldest son who was your own ia
theirs ancestor, but mine; that could
the truth only be known Alright should
| be reigning at Kingscote Manor in
stead of being what l anna pauper,,
| fated to cut down the family tree to
raise pitiful sum of money that must
| be procured"
Damaris stood speechless and Alaric
once more resumed his heavy task.
Finally, after long and weary. toll,
| the end came With cry to the girl,
| Alaric flung down his axe and leaped
backward His hand sought hers.
Side by side drawn apart from the
tottering giant, they stood as though
spellbound, the only spectators of the
end of so many hundred years OF
silent, strenuous majesty.
And even as the mighty tree went
shuddering to its tremendous fall, a
crack as of pistol shot, foreshadow-
ed its overthrow The noise came
from the one rotten bough that the
tree had possessed huee limb some
halfway up its stem, which now de-
taching first from it parent crashed
down at the very feet of the wonder
ing couple.
Nor was that ALL A metallic tinkle
accompanied the crash. Damaris was
the first to recognize the solution OF
the puzzle.
It was a metal canister long,
time-stained box of rusted tin, closed
at both ends--a thing of mystery, or
untold possibilities. She picked 1t up,
and as she did SO one end fell away.
The canister contained nothing but
a stained yellow piece of parchment,
upon which something was written
in a close and grabbed caligraphy,
archaic, hard to decipher.
Alaric swung the lantern up from
the ground.
ssWhat is it, Damaris?" he asked
breathlessly.
Slowly, laboriously, the girl read out
| the following amazing declaration:
ssMayhap day will come when that
which I, Nigel Kingscote. do set down
here in writing, in the year of Grace,
1647, and do hide in the hole OF the
Kingscote Oak, may be sete out in
the cleare light of day. And even as
Esau of old did sell his birthright, SO
do I, Nigel Kingscote, head of the
house of Kingscote, renounce my right
and the right of those who come after
me to be the true and lawful possess
ors of the faire lands Of Kingscote
Manor
..Yet not voluntarily doe I this, but
for the life Of him, my son. Know,
then, that | must flee the country.
Cromwell, the regicide, hath dcreed
/ that shall die. Therefore. have