The Fairmont West Virginian. (Fairmont, W. Va.) 1904-1914, 1913-08-15
s-iiii-.iIii-fitio-i
John FIoyd's
Fishing Trip

fUc-@n9iI 19ttHs1.9lltl@-li IL,
Floyd often stopped a week at
Hurstmont. It was a rest from town,
where there Is no rest, and 1t was
bit difficult to get to. which was
one OF its charms. and the fishing was
good.
But the Crusaders Arms was the
strong point-an undeveloped inn
with rustic garden and veranda, to
say nothing OF excellent cooking and
quiet, far-away touch about It
which was balm like and soothing
after the fever and hurry OF the city.
But when Floyd arrived, unan-
nounced. in June. the landlord threw
up his hands In dismay.
No room?" exclaimed Floyd.
Very sorry, SIR" said the land
lord. IF you had only written. But
they might put you up at the sheaves
kept by lady-Miss Charteris."
"Ah, will try there" and John
Flodyd drove. away down the village
street and into tn country again, for
the fyman to pull up at pretty
rose and clematis covered cottage.
The Sheaves is not an inn, sir"
said the Ayman. as he got down; but
l believe it's all right"
And then. a few minutes later, the
visitor found himself inside the
house, he realized that the driver
spoke the truth.
Miss Charters interested him ex-
tremely. but why she took In board
ers puzzled him.
you must be rather lonely. here"
he said.
NO." she answered. there Is
plenty to interest me-"
' He nodded shortly.
No doubt. But Is there anything
archaeological? We Americans are
that way. you know"
There is the abbey" she said.
May one 60 there"
The girl hesitatcd
II mean with permission. OF
course. 1t IS not tnhabfted?"
Mo-. 1t is not inhabited" she
said, slowly.
you take a great interest in IT,"
he said.
Yes. and | fear the Goths and
Vandals."
1.-The Goths and vandais?"
you see, the abbey is all have"
she said wistfully. 1T used TO be-
long to my family all this part. and
It Is the only bit left"
And it's ruin" he put In
thoughtfully. and at that minute as
he looked at her he unconsciousiy
felt glad that he liked fishing, and
that the proclivity had led his steps
to that out-of-the-way corner of the
world.
Yes" she murmured. 1T Is a
ruin. but q very beautiful ruin. II
you like | could chow you #; they
would let me-"
The Young man wondered who the
mythical they" might be as he ac-
companied her into the silent pth-
ways Of the ancient stronghold. mon
astic in its solemnity now.
THE staircase is very old and
worm" he said.
Yes" she answered, "the Crusad-
ers did chip the steps good deal
IN tramping up and down"
He looked up at her. but said not
n word.
He could not sleep that night. He
rose at last and dressed; and then.
Just as he opened the door, he saw In
the dusky corridor figure-a phan-
tom Of the night. There was move
ment below and he descended to fol-
low her into the silent country lane,
out into the woodland clearing,
thence into the forest. finally into
the courtyard Of the old chateau.
which Just ten looked more dream
like still.
He lost sig%t of her in that maze
OF moss covered, Ivy wreathed arch
ways. where the moonlight fell In
silver patches. and he stopped to
think before pursuing his way. &C
tuated now principally by insight and
admiration for what he saw. and re-
alizing that he stood very little
chance OF finding his involuntary
guide. familiar as she seemed to be
with the intricacies OF the place. He
mounted stairway after stairway. at
length coming to wing OF the castle
where ruin was not so plainly mark
ed.
Here music came family to the
ear. and he stopped to listen before
pursuing his way, hesitating finally
on the threshold OF a large chamber
whose walls we're still partially drap-
ed with torn tapestry; and at the far
end he saw the girl who was his
hostess at The Sheaves, sitting be-
fore an old-time musical instrument
playing forgotten air.