The Mitchell capital. (Mitchell, Dakota [S.D.]) 1879-1918, 1908-09-04
--THE
Storyof Francis C1udde
Romance Of Queen Mary's Reign.
EY STANLEY j. WEYMAN.
BY STANLEY j. WEYMAN.

back to me whcn he had gone Il few
PAGES.
II you know where my sword is?"
he asked in a matter of fact tone. as
one might ask a question of an old
cofnrade.
L found 1t cast aside behind the door.
He o 1T from me, grumbling over II
nick i'll the edge, which he had caused
by sonle desperate blow when he was
seized. He fastened 1t on with an oath.
could not look at the sword without
remembering how nearly he had taken
my life with it. The recollection did
not trouble him in the slightest.
Now farewell" he said, carelessly.
~ ann going to turn over a new leaf
and begin returning good for evil. Do
you go torryour friends and do your
work. and l will go to my friends and
do mine.'
Then. with a nod. he walked briskly
away, and L heard him climb the ladder
and depart.
What was he going to do? was so
deeply amazed by the interview that |
did not understand. | had thought him
Il wicked man, but had not conceived
alone looking around the vault l could
hardly believe that / had met and
spoken to my father and told him /
was his son-and his was all! / could
hardly believe hat he had gone away
with this knowledge, un1noved and UNI
r~epcntant, alike lnWarned by the Proc
idencc which had used me to thwart
his schemes and untouched by the ben
eficence which had thrice held him back
from the crime of killing me-aye, proof
even against the long suffering which
had plucked him from the abyss and
given him one more chance of repent
ance.
l found Master BERTHE in the stables
waiting for me with some impatience,
of which, upon the whole, 1 was glad,
for 1 had no wish to be closely ques-
toned, and the account / gave him OF
the Interview might at another time
have seemed disjoihted and incoherent.
He listened to it, however, without a
remark. and his next words made it
clear that he had other matters in his
mind.
81 do not know what to do about
fetching the duchess over" he said.
This news seems to be true, and she
ought to be here"
"~Certainly." l agreed.
The country in general is we'll az
ieeted to the Princess Elizabeth he
continued. Yet the interests of the
bishops. of the Spanish faction and of
some of the council will lie in living
trouble. 10 avoid this we should show
our strength. Therefore l want the
duchess to come over with all speed.
VIII you fetch her?" he added sharply,
turning to ne.
Will II" cried In surprise.
Yes, You. l cannot we'll go myself
AT this crisis. Will you go instead?"
OF course I will" 1 answered.
And the prospect cheered me wonder
fully. 1T gave me something to do and
opened my eyes to the great change of
which P~enruddocke had been the her
ald. a change which was even then be-
ginning. AS we rode down Highgate
hill that day messengers were speeding
north n south and east and west to
Norwich Bristol and Canterbury
and Coventry and York with the tidings
that the somber rule under which Eng
land had groaned for five years and
more was coming to an end. If in a.
dozen towns of England they rCped
their bells afresh; if in every country,
as Penruddocke had prophesied. they
got their tar barrels ready; IL all, save
a few old fashioned folk and a few
gloomy btgots and hysterical m
awoke as from an evil dream; If even
sensible men saw in the coming OF the
young queen a panacea for all their fills
a q%uenchtng of Smlthf1eld fires a Calais
recovered. a cure for the worthless
coinage which hampered trade, and a
radiance of worthless foreigners who
p~lundered 1t. with better roads. purer
justice. n fuller exchequer. more ia
Norable reasons-if England read all
this in that news of Penruddocke's. was
1t not something to us also?
1t was indeed. We were saved at the
last moment from the dangerous enter
prise on which we had rashly en-
barFed. We now had such prospects
before us only the success of that
schsae could have ordinarily opened.
Ease and honor instead of the gailows
and to lie warm instead of creaking in
the wind! Thinking OF this. / fell into
a better frame of mind as I logged
along toward London. For what. after
all, was my father to me-. tina his ex-
fstence should make me unhappy or
rob mine Of all pleasure? 1 had made
a place for myself in the world. I had
earned friends for myself. He might
take away my pride in the one, but
he could never rob me of the love of
the others-of those who had eaten and
drunk and fought and suffered beside
me and for whom I, too. had fought
and suffered.
~ strange time fer the swallow, to
come back" said my lady. turning to
smile at me as I rode on her Off side.
1t would have been strange indeed IL
there had been swallows in the afr, for
1t was the end of December. The roads
were frost bound and the trees lent
less. The east wind. gathered force in
its rush across the Essex marshes.
whirled before it the last trophies OF
Hainault forest and seemed as n
whistled by our ears and shaved our
faces to grudge us the shelter to which
we were Fastening. The long train he
hind us-for the good times of which
we q talked sc often had come
were full of the huge fire we expected
to find at the nj at Barking, our last
stage on the o a to London. And II
h duchess and I bore the cold more
patiently 1t was probably because we
had more o for thought ard perhaps
thicker
DO not shake your head" she cor
tinued, CHANGING at me with mischief
In her eyes. land flatter yourself you
will not go back. but Will go on max
ing yourself n some one else UNI
happy. You will do nothing Of the
kind. Francis. Before the spring comes
you and l will ride over the r awbridge
at Cotton End, or I am a Dutchwom-
ant"
Il cannot see that things are
changed" I said.
Not changed?" she replied. "when
you left. you were nobody. Now. you
are somebody. if it be only In having
q sister with a dozen serving men in
her train. Leave it to me. And now,
thank heaven. we are here! 1 am SO
stiff and cold you must lift me down.
We have not to ride far after dinner,