Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1914-10-23
CHAPTER |.
a Speck In the Sky.

A Speck In the Sky.
1t was Marta who first saw the speck
Sn the sky. Her cutlery and her bound
from her seat at the teatable brought
her mother and Colonel Westerling
after her onto the lawn, where they
became photionless figures, screening
their eyes with their hands. The new
est and most wonderful thing in the
>,world at the time was this speck ap-
Dearing above the irregular horizon Of
the Brown range, in view Of land
scape that centuries Of civilization had
certified and cultivated and formed.
At the base of the range ran a line
OF white stone posts, placed by inter
national commissions of surveyors to
the nicely of an inch's variation. In
the very direction of the speck's fight
a spur of foothills extended into the
plain that stretched away to the Gray
range, distinct at the distance of
thirty miles in the bright afternoon
sight Faithful to their part in refus-
ing to climb, the white posts circled
around the spur, hugging the levels.
In the lap of the spur was La Tir,
the old town, and on the other side
OF the boundary lay South La Tir, the
new town. Through both ran the dusty
ribbon Of road, drawn straight across
the plain and over the glistening
thread of a river. On its way to the
pass Of the Brown range it skirted the
garden of the Gallands, which rose in
terraces to mountaineering
Aouse overlooking the old town from its
outskirts. They were such a town. such
a road, such landscape as you may
see on many European frontiers. The
Christian people who lived In the re-
.gion were like the Christian people
you know If you look for the realities
OF human nature under the surface diff
ferences of language and habits.
Beyond the house rose the ruins of a
castle, it's tower still intact Marta al
ways referred to the castle as the
baron; for in her girlhood she had a
way Of personifying all inanimate
things. II the castle walls were cov-
cred with hoar frost, she said that the
baron was shivering; If the wind tore
around the tower, she said that the
baron was grooming over the demo
cratic tendencies Of the time. On such
a summer afternoon as this, the baron
was growing old gracefully, at peace
with his enemies.
Centuries older than the speck in
the sky was the baron; but the pass
road was many more, countless more,
centuries older than he. 1t had been
a trail for tribes long before Roman
1egions won a victory in the pass,
which was acclaimed an imperial tri-
umph. To hold the pass was to hold
the range. All the blood shed there
would make red river, inundating the
plain.
Beside the old baron, we are par.
venus" Marta would say. And what
a parvenu the baron would have been
to the Roman aristocrat!"
"Our family is old enough-none
older in the province!" Mrs. Galland
would reply. Marta, how your mind
does wander! I'd get headache just
contemplating the things you are able
to think Of in five minutes"
The first Galland had built house
ON the land that his king had given
MIN for one of the most brilliant feats
of arms in the history of the pass.
Even the tower, raised to the glory
of an older family whose descendants
If any survived, we're unaware of their
lineage, had become known as the
Galland tower. The Gallands were
rooted In the soil of the frontier; they
were used to having wars hot breath
blow past their door; they were al
home in the language and customs OF
two peoples; theirs was peculiar ira
dition, which Marta had absorbed with
her first breath. Town and plain and
range were the first vista of landscape
that she had seen; doubtless they
would be the last
One or two afternoons week Col
onel Hedworth Westerling, commander
of the regimental post of the Grays or
the other side of the white posts
stretched his privilege of crossing the
frontier and appeared for tea at the
Gallands. 1t meant pleasant half
hour breaking long walk, a relief
from garrison surroundings, and il
view of the order, received that morn
ing, this was to BIO farewell call.
He had found Mrs. Galland an agree
able reflection of an aristocratic past
The daughter had what he defined
vaguely as girlish piquancy. He found
it amusing to try to answer her un
usual questions; he liked the variety
OF her inventive mind, with its flashes
OF downright matter-of-factness
Not until tea was served did he men