The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1916-02-19
MISTRESS D0ROTHY's WAGER.

it....
Dorothy DEAR, you little know to
what you, are pledging yourself. The.
Heath is simply swarming with high.
waymen." -
And the renowned Black Dick
would think very little of risking hts
neck to possess himself of those gems
that do not, in truth, outshine the
brilliancy of Mistress Dorothy's eyes. ;"
Mistress Dorothy Pennington ex-
ecuted sweeping courtesy in acknowl-
edgment of this last speech, uttered
by an exquisite, attired in all the
bravery of Powered vest, plum-colored
costume, and elaborate lace ruffles.
Il am overwhelmed, sir. Neverthe-
less (she glanced round at the little
circle that had gathered about herr,
Il hold to my resolve
This conversation was being held in
| the assembly room, at Tunbridge
| Wells, which at that time Git was
toward the middle of the third
Georges reigm disputed with Bath the
| palm of fashion. The subject of dis
cllssion was a wager made by fair
dorothy Pennington that she would
convey herself and her famous
emeralds, and, incidentally. her great
| uncle, old Judge Pennington, in all
! safety to London, without the loss of
as much as one of her jewels, or in
| jury to the same Vain were all re-
monstrances, Intellectual all efforts to
dissuade her from her project. With
what her staid English relatives
| termed an unusual amount of Irish will
| ft11ness, Dorothy pushed forward her
/ preparations for the venturesome
Journey across Hampstead Heath,
with it's evil reputation of highway
robberies perpetrated in the broad
| light of day, and it's notorious
denizen, Dick Hartford, BLACK Dick,
| at large.
The girls heart was set on return
ing with all speed to Ireland, and the
journey from the Wells to London was
the first stage of the perilous home,
ward path
Meanwhile, for this evening, Doro,
| thy gave herself up to full enjoyment
of{the gay scene, where she queened
it by virtue of the triple royalty OF
beauty, wit, and youth. All the wealth
and 'gentilityY of the metropolis were
there represented A royal duke had
honored it with his presence, and had
conferred on the fascinating Irish
damsels the distinctions of dancing a
minuet with her. Had Dorothy but
known, she had that very evening
Threaded the 1nazesof pavane with
a parsonage of far more remarkable
celebrity. About his personality she
was destined to be en- ghtened under
Every exciting circumstances.
Not many days later cumbersome
travelling coach, drawn by four stout
steeds, might have been seen rolling
heavily along the highway between
Tunbridge Wells and London. At a
certain point the equipage, DESERVING
the main route, plunged into a
labyrinth of byroads, leading indeed to
the capital, but by ways SO circuitous
that the distance was more than
doubled. This abandoning of the or
binary roadway was Dorothy's first
move.
Great-unCle Pennington, enveloped
to a disappearing point in comforting
furs and woolens, groaned as the un
| wieldy vehicle swayed and pitched
through deep ruts, and loudly be
moaned the times which necessitated
such mode of journeying for peace
able, law-abiding subjects of the Brit
ish Crown. But Mistress Dorothy
erect and resolute, slipped back the
hood of her crimson cloak and
glanced with satisfaction at the dreary
waste outside.
BE of good cheer, dear Uncle!
Those good gentlemen of the road are
surely watching for us on the Heath
They little know how far out of their
reach we are
| Alas! how is it that
The best-laid schemes of mice and
| men
! Gang aft agIey?
j On sharp rise of the road along
which numbered the coach, a solitary
horseman was stationed, black blot
against the sky. Everything about
him, including his horse, was Of the
same sombre hue He surveyed the
yet distant vehicle with grim smile
Ha, my fine Madam was his
thought, so you would measure wits
with Dick Harford!'
/ In sheer exuberance of spirits, he
accosted an approaching pedestrian
whom he easily identified as one of
those itinerant Methodist preachers
common to the time
'eHalloo good man! Can be OF any
service. to your"
The wayfarer looked up 'tnsus.
picioHsly over his great horn spec
tacles.
@Canst thee tell me, friend, if be
on the right way to Dulwich? ''
Ay, that you are. And, as I've
some minutes to spare, I'll give you a
lift for mile or So Up with you,
/ behind me-
i Nothing 1oath, the good man
]shoisted himself laboriously onto the
broad back of his interlocutors steed,
and, after a brisk canter, was set
down where the road branched of to
Dulwich
Il thank thee, friend! And, as even
to the elect, word of warning comes
not amiss. pray thee accept these
/ fol.ona of my yr,r,s1 x,y;l1v