Kingsbury County independent. (DeSmet, Kingsbury County, S.D.) 1894-1929, 1908-09-11
My the beginning of it. This was FRI

| only the beginning Of 1t. This was FRI
day.
on the Sunday, a rumor OF the oroer
having gone abroad, a larger congresa-
tion than usual streamed across the
chase to church. prepared to hear sofae
new thing. They were disappointed.
Sir Anthony stalked in, as or old,
through the double ranks of people
waiting at the door to receive him, ana
after him Ferdinand and his wife n
Petronilla and Baldwin n every SER
vant from the house save a COOK or two
and the porter. The church was full.
Seldom has such a congregation been
seen in It. But all passed as of old.
Father Carey's hand shook indeed. n
his voice quavered, but he went
through the ceremony Of the mas. and
all was lone in Latin. A little change
would have been pleasant, some
thought. But no one in this country
place on the borders of the forest held
very strong views. No bishop had come
hereto hunting TO Cotton End. No aboey
existed TO excite dislike by its eXtraV-
agance, or by It's license, or by the
swarm OF ragged oilers ii supported.
Father Carey was the most harmless
and kindest OF men. The villagers did
not care one way or the other. To them
Sir Anthony was king. n If n n
felt tempted TO interfere the old
knights face, as he gazed steadfastly
at the brass effigy OF a Cludde who had
fallen in Spain fighting against the
Moors, warned the meddler to be silent.
And so on that Sunday all went well.
But some one must hav told tales, for
early In the week there came a strong
letter OF remonstrance from the sheriff,
who was an old friend OF Sir Anthony,
and OF his own free will, | fancy, would
have winked But he was committed
TO the Protestants and bound to stand
or fall with them. The choleric knight
sent back an answer by the same mes
senger. The sheriff replied, the knight
rejoined-having his brother always at
his elbow. The uDshot Of the CORE
spondence was an announcement on
the part of the sheriff that he should
send his officers to the next service 10
see that the queens order was obeyed
and a reply on the part Of Sir Anthony
that he should as certainly put the men
in the duck pond. Some inkling Of this
state OF things got abroad and spread
as a September fire flies through a
wood, so that there was like to be such
a congregation at the next service to
witness the trial Of strength as would
throw the last Sundays gathering alto
gether into the shade.
1t was clear at last that Sir Anthony
himself did not think hat there was
the end Of 1t, for on that Saturday
afternoon he look a remarkable walk.
He called Petronilla after dinner and
bade her get her hood and come with
him, and the girl. who had seen so little
of her father In the last month. and
who. what with rumor n fears and
surmises. was eating her heart out.
obeyed him with JOY. 1t was a fine
frosty day near the close Of December.
Sir Anthony led the way over the plank
bridge which CLOSED the moat In the
rear Of the house and tramped steadily
through the home farm toward a hill
called the Woodman's View, which
marked the border OF the forest. He
did not talk, but neither was he Junk
in reverie. AS he entered each field he
stood and scanned Ii, at times merely
nodding, at times smiling or again
mutterfng a few words. such as. THE
three acre piece! My father fncfosed
it," or, "That Is where Ferdinand killed
the old mare!" or. The best land for
wheat on this side OF the housed" The
hill climbed, he stood a long time gaz-
ing over the landscape, cycling first the
fields and meadows which stretched
away from his feet toward the house,
the latter. as seen from this point, los
ing all It's statelfness In the mass OF
stacks and ricks and barns and gran
aries which surrounded II. Then his
eyes Travelled farther in the same line
to the broad expanse Of woodland
Cotton Chase-through which the road
passed along a ridge as straight as an
arrow. To the right were more fields,
and here and there amid them a home
stead with it's smaller ring OF stacks
and barns. When he turned to the left,
his eyes, passing over the shoulders OF
Brant hill and Mill Head copse and
Beacon hin. all bulwarks of the forest,
followed the streak OF rive as 1t wound
away toward Stratford through lusci-
Gus Iood meadows, here growing wide
and there narrow as the woodland adj
vanced or retreated.
1T is all NINE" he said as much to
himself as to the girl. 1T Is all Cludde
land as far as you can see."
There We're tears In her eyes. and she
had to turn away TO conceal them. Why
she hardly knew. for he said nothing
and he walked down the hill dry
eyed, but all the way home he stflf
looked sharply about, noting this or
that, as il he We're bidding farewell to
the old familiar objects. the s~pinneys
and copses-aye, and the very gates
and gaps and the hollow trees where
the owls built. 1t was the saddest and
most pathetic walk the girl a ever
taken. Yet there was nothing said.
CONTINUED Next Weekly
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