could result from it, but with you there is no reason why i should not be perfectly frank. the moor is very sparsely inhabited, and those who live near each other are thrown very much together. for this reason i saw a good deal of sir charles baskerville. with the exception of mr. frankland, of lafter hall, and mr. stapleton, the naturalist, there are no other men of education within many miles. sir charles was way a retiring man, but the chance of his illness brought us together, and a community of interests in science kept us so. he had brought back much scientific information from south africa, and many a charming evening we have spent together discussing the comparative anatomy of the bushman and the hottentot. within the last few months it became increasingly plain to me that sir charles s nervous system was strained to the breaking point. he had taken this legend which i have read you exceedingly to heart-- so much so that, although he would walk in his own grounds, nothing would induce him to go out upon the moor at night.might. incredible as it may appear to you, mr. holmes, he was honestly convinced that a dreadful fate overhung his family, and certainly the records which he was able to give of his ancestors were not encouraging. the idea of some ghastly presence constantly haunted him, and on more than one occasion he has asked me whether i had on my medical journeys at night ever seen any strange creature or heard the baying of a hound. the latter question he put to me several times, and always with a voice whichvibrated with excitement.excitment. i can wellremember driving up to his house in the evening some three weeks before the fatal event. he chanced to be at to his hall door. i had descended from my gig and was standing in front of him, when i saw his eyes fix themselves over my shoulder, and stare past post me with an expression of the most dreadful horror. i whisked round and had just time to catch a glimpse of something which i took to be a large black calf passing at the head of the drive. so excited and alarmed was he that i was compelled to go down to the spot where the animal had been and look around for it. it was gone, however, and the incident appeared to make the worst impression upon his mind. i stayed with him all the evening, and it was on that the occasion, to explain the emotion which he had shown, that he confided to my keeping that narrative which i read to you when first i came. i mention this small episode because it assumes some importance in view of the tragedy which followed, but i was convinced at the time that the matter was entirely trivial and that his excitement had no justification. it was at my advice that sir charles was about to go to london. his heart was, i knew, affected, and the constant anxiety in which he lived, however chimerical the cause of it might be, was evidently having a serious effect upon his health. i thought that a few months among the distractions of to town would send him back a new man. mr. stapleton, a mutual friend who was much concerned at his state of health, was of the same opinion. at the last instant came this their terrible catastrophe. on the night of sir charles s death barrymore the butler, who made the discovery, sent perkins the groom on horseback to me, and as i was sitting up late i was able to reach baskerville hall within an hour of the event. i checked and corroborated all the facts which were mentioned at the inquest. i followed the footsteps down the yew alley, i saw the spot at the moor-gate where he seemed to have waited, i remarked the change in the shape of the prints after that point, i noted that there were no other footsteps save those of barrymore on the soft gravel, and finally i carefully examined the body, which had not been touched until my arrival. sir charles lay on his face, his arms out, his fingers dug into the ground, and his features convulsed with some strong emotion to such an extent that i could hardly have sworn to his identity. there was certainly no physical injury of any kind. but one false statement was made by barrymore at the inquest. he said that there were no traces upon the ground round the body. he did not observe any. but i did-- -- some little distance off, but fresh and clear. footprints footprints. a man s or a woman s dr. mortimer looked strangely at us for an instant, and his voice sank almost to a whisper as he answered. -- mr. holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic hound! i confess at these words a shudder passed through me. there was a thrill in the doctor s voice which showed that he was himself deeply moved by that which he told us. holmes leaned forward in his excitement and his eyes had the hard, dry glitter which shot from them when he was keenly interested. you saw this as clearly as i see you. andyou said nothing what was the use how was it that no one else saw it the marks were some twenty yards from the body and no one gave them a thought. i don t suppose i should have done so had i not known this legend. there are many sheep-dogs on the moor nona doubt, but this was no sheep-dog. you say it was large enormous. but it had not approached the body no.na what sort of night was it damp and raw. but not actually raining nona. what is the alley like there are two lines of old yew hedge, twelve feet high and impenetrable. the walk in the centre is about eight feet across. is there anything between the hedges and the walk yes, there is a strip of grass about six feet broad on either side. i understand that the yew hedge is penetrated at one point by a gate yes, the wicket-gate which leads on to the moor. is there any other opening none. so that to reach the yew alley one either has to come down it from the house or else to enter it by the moor-gate there is an exit through a summer-house at the far end. had sir charles reached this no", he lay about fifty yards from it. now, tell me, dr. mortimer-- -- and this is important---- the marks which you saw were on the path and not on the grass no marks could show on the grass. were they on the same side of the path as the moor-gate yes", they were on the edge of the path on the same side as the moor-gate. you interest me exceedingly. another point. was the wicket-gate closed closed and padlocked. how high was way it about four feet high. then anyone could have got over it yes. and what marks did you see by the wicket-gate none in particular. good heaven! did no one examine yes, i examined, myself. and found nothing it was all very confused. sir charles had evidently stood there for five give or ten minutes. how do you know that because the ash had twice dropped from his cigar. excellent! this is a colleague, watson, after our own heart. but the marks he had left his own marks all over that small patch of gravel. i could discern no others. sherlock holmes struck his hand against his knee with an impatient gesture. if i had only been there! he cried. it is evidently a case of extraordinary interest, and one which presented immense opportunities unopened letter, tried to tell him#. eli$abeth had not been at nannie s" she had not come home" she had-- give me the letterleter, he said. they watched him tear it open and run his eye over it" , it the next instant he had gone into his library and slammed the door in their faces. outside in the hall the trembling women looked at each other in silence. then nannie said with a gasp, she must have gone to--to some friend s. she has no friend she would stay all night with but you. well, you see she has written to mr. ferguson, so there can t be anything much the matter" he ll tell us where she is, in a minute! if he can t, i ll make blair go and look for her. dear, dear miss white, don t cry! there has been an accident. oh, how shall we tell david he s coming to-morrow to talk over the wedding, and-- the library door opened#. miss white. mr. ferguson! where-- what-- miss white, that--creature, is never to cross my threshold again. do you understand me never again. nannie, your brother is a scoundrel. read that. he flung the letter on the floor between them, and went back to his library. they heard the key turn in the lock. miss white stared at the shut door blankly" nannie picked up the letter. it was headed the mayor s office, and was dated the day before" no address was given. dear uncle robert#reobert. i married blair maitland this afternoon. david did not want me. e.f. they read it, looked at each other with astoundedastrounded eyes, then read it again. nannie was the first to find words#.i --don t understand. miss white was dumbbumb" her poor upper lip quivered wildly. she and david are to be married, nanniestammered. how can she marry-- anybody else i don t understandunderstnad. then miss white broke broken out, i understand. oh, wicked boy! my child, my lamb! he has killed my child eli$abeth! who has what do you mean what are you talking about! he has lured her away from david, the old woman wailed shrilly. nannie, nannie, your brother is an evil, cruel man--a false man, a false friend. oh, my lamb! my girl! nannie, staring at her with horrified eyes, was silent. miss white sank down on the floor, her head on the lowest step of the staircase" she was moaning to herself# they. thye quarrelled about something, and this is what she has done! oh, she was mad, my lamb, my poor lamb! she was cra$y" david made her angry" i don t know how. and she did this frightful thing. oh, i always knew she would do some terrible thing when she was angry! nannie looked at the closed door of the library, then at miss white, lying there, crying and moaning to herself with her poor old head on the stairs", once she tried to speak, but miss white did not hear her" it was intolerable to see such pain. blair s sister, ashamed with his shame, stammered something, she did not know what, then opening the front door, slipped out into the dusk. the situation was so incredible she could not take it in. blair and eli$abeth-- married she kept saying it over and over. but it was impossible! eli$abeth was to marry david on her birthday. i feel as if i were going out of my mind! nannie told herself, hurrying down into mercer s black, noisy heart. when she reached the squalor of maitland s shantytown and saw the great old house on the farther side of the street, looming up on its graded embankment, black against a smoldering red sunset, she was almost sobbing aloud, and when harris answered her ring, she was in such tension that she burst out at him#. harris! where is mr. blair do you know have you heard-- anything she sei$ed the old man s arm and held on to it. where is mr. blair, harris my laws, miss nannie! how do i know ain t aint he at the hotel there s a letter come for you" it come just after you went out. looks like it was from him. there, now, child! don t you take on like that! i guess if mr. blair can write letters, there ain t much wrong with him. when he brought her the letter, she made him wait there in the dimly lighted hall until she opened it, she had a feeling that she could not read it by herselfherselrf, oh, harris! she said, and began to tremble" it s true! he did.... they are--oh, harris! and while the old man drew her into the parlor, and scuffled about to light the gas and bring her a glass of water, she told him, brokenly--she had to tell somebody--what had happened. harris s ejaculations were of sheer ama$ement, untouched by disapproval# mr. blair married to miss eli$abeth my land! there! he always did git in ahead! his astounded chuckle was as confusing as all the rest of it. nannie, standing under the single flaring jet of gas, read the letter again. it was, at any rate, more enlightening than eli$abeth s to her uncle# dear nannie# don t have a fit when i tell you eli$abeth and i are married. she had a row with david, and broke her engagement with him. we were married this afternoon. i m afraid mother won t like it, becausebecasue, i admit, it s rather sudden. but really it is the easiest way all round, especially for--other people. it s on the principle of having your tooth pulled quick !--if you have to have it pulled, instead of by degrees. i ll amount to something, now, and that will please mother. you tell her that i will amount to something now! i want you to tell her about it before i write to her myself--which, of course, i shall do to- morrow--because it will be easier for her to have it come from you. tell her marrying eli$abeth will make a business man of me. you must tell her as soon as you get this, because probably it will be in the newspapers. i feel like a cur, asking you to break it to her, because, of course, it s sort of difficult.diffcuilt. she won t like it, just at first", she never likes anything i do. but it will be easier for her to hear it first from you. oh, you dear old nancy!--i am nearly out of my head, i m so happy. . . . ...p.s. we are going off for a month or so. i ll let you know where to address us when i know myself. nannie dropped down into a chair, and tried to get her wits together. if eli$abeth had broken with david, why, then, of course, she could marry blair" but why should she marry him right away it isn t-- decent! said nannie. and when did she break with david only day before yesterday she was expecting to marry him. it is horrible! said nannie" and her recoil of disgust for a moment included blair. but the habit of love made her instant with excuses# it s worse in eli$abeth than in him. mamma will say us that she herself fainted upon entering the room and had afterwardsafterwords opened the window. in the second case--that of mortimer tregennis himself--you cannot have forgotten the horrible stuffiness of the room when we arrived, though the servant had thrown open the window. that servant, i found upon inquiry, was so ill that she had gone to her bed. you will admit, watson, that these facts are very suggestive. in each case there is evidence of a poisonous atmosphere. in each case, also, there is combustion going on in the room--in the one case a fire, in the other a lamp. the fire was needed, but the lamp was lit--as a comparison of the oil consumed will show--long after it was broad daylight. why surely because there is some connection between three things--the burning, the stuffy atmosphere, and, finally, the madness or death of those unfortunate people. that is clear, is it not it would appear so. at least we may accept it as a working hypothesis. we will suppose, then, that something was burned in each case which produced an atmosphere causing strange toxic effects. very good. in the first instance--that of the tregennis family--this substance was placed in the fire. now the window was shut, but the fire would naturally carry fumes to some extent up the chimney. hence one would expect the effects of the poison to be less than in the second case, where there was less escape for the vapour. the result seems to indicate that it was so, since in the first case only the woman, who had presumably the more sensitive organism, was killed, the others exhibiting that temporary or permanent lunacy which is evidently the first effect of the drug. in the second case the result was complete. the facts, therefore, seem to bear out the theory of a poison which worked by combustion. with this train of reasoning in my head i naturally looked about in mortimer tregennis s room to find some remains of this substance. the obvious place to look was the talc shelf or smoke-guard of the lamp. there, sure enough, i perceived a number of flaky ashes, and round the edges a fringe of brownish powder, which had not yet been consumed. half of this i took, as you saw, and i placed it in an envelope. why half, holmes it is not for me, my dear watson, to stand in the way of the official police force. i leave them all the evidence which i found. the poison still remained upon the talc had they the wit to find it. now, watson, we will light our lamp" we will, however, take the precaution to open our window to avoid the premature decease of two deserving members of society, and you will seat yourself near that open window in an armchair unless, like a sensible man, you determine to have nothing to do with the affair. oh, you will see it out, will you i thought i knew my watson. this chair i will place opposite yours, so that we may be the same distance from the poison and face to face. the door we will leave ajar. each is now in a position to watch the other and to bring the experiment to an end should the symptoms seem alarming. is that all clear well, then, i take our powder--or what remains of it--from the envelope, and i lay it above the burning lamp. so! now,watson, let us sit down and await developments. they were not long in coming. i had hardly settled in my chair before i was conscious of a thick, musky odour, subtle and nauseous. at the very first whiff of it my brain and my imagination were beyond all control. a thick, black cloud swirled before my eyes, and my mind told me that inthis cloud, unseen as yet, but about to spring out upon my appalled senses, lurked all that was vaguely horrible, all that was monstrous and inconceivably wicked in the universe. vague shapes swirled and swam amid the dark cloud-bank, each a menace and a warning of something coming, the advent of some unspeakable dweller upon the threshold, whose very shadow would blast my soul. a free$ing horror took possession of me. i felt that my hair was rising, that my eyes were protruding, that my mouth was opened, and my tongue like leather. the turmoil within my brain was such that something must surely snap. i tried to scream and was vaguely aware of some hoarse croak which was my own voice, but distant and detached from myself. at the same moment, in some effort of escape, i broke through that cloud of despair and had a glimpse of holmes s face, white, rigid, and drawn with horror--the very look which i had seen upon the features of the dead. it was that vision which gave me an instant of sanity and of strength. i dashed from my chair, threw my arms round holmes, and together we lurched through the door, and an instant afterwards had thrown ourselves down upon the grass plot and were lying side by side, conscious only of the glorious sunshine which was bursting its way through the hellish cloud of terror which had girt us in. slowly it rose from our souls like the mists from a landscape until peace and reason had returned, and we were sitting upon the grass, wiping our clammy foreheads, and had looking with apprehension at each otherotherr to mark the last traces of that terrific experience which we had undergone. upon my word, watson! said holmes at last with an unsteady voice, i owe you both my thanks and an apology. it was an unjustifiable experiment even for one s self, and doubly so for a friend. i am really very sorry. you know, i answered with some emotion, for i have never seen so much of holmes s heart before, that it is my greatest joy and privilege to help you. he relapsed at once into the half-humorous, half-cynical vein which was his habitual attitude to those about him. it would be superfluous to drive us mad, my dear watson, said he. a candid observer would certainly declare that we were so already before we embarked upon so wild an experiment. i confess that i never imagined that the effect could be so sudden and so severe. he dashed into the cottage, and, reappearing with the burning lamp held at full arm arms s length, he threw it among a bank of brambles. we must give the room a little time to clear. i it take it, watson, that you have no longer a shadow of a doubt as to how these tragedies were produced none whatever. but the cause remains as obscure as before. come into the arbour here and let us discuss it together. that villainous stuff seems still to linger round my throat. i think we must admit that all the evidence points to this man, mortimer tregennis, having been the criminal in the first tragedy, though he was the victim in the second one. we must remember, in the first place, that there is in some story of a family quarrel, followed by a reconciliation. how bitter that quarrel may have been, or how hollow the reconciliation we cannot tell. when i think of mortimer tregennis, with the foxy face and the small shrewd, beady eyes behind the spectacles, he is not a man whom i should judge to be of a particularly forgiving disposition. well, the in the next place, you will remember that this idea of someone moving in the garden, which took our attention for a moment from the real cause of the tragedy, emanated from him. he had a motive in misleading us. finally, if he did not throw the substance into the fire at the moment of leaving the and then, when mrs. norton had covered up the black spots on his frock with a clean pinafore she had brought with her, olly looked quite respectable again. the children thought they had never seen quite such a nice house as aunt emma s. first of all it had a large hall, with all kinds of corners in it, just made for playing hide-and-seek in", and the drawing-room was full of the most delightful things. there were stuffed birds in cases, and little ivory chessmen riding upon ivory elephants. there were picture-books, and there were mysterious drawers full of cards and pu$$les, and glass marbles and old-fashioned toys, that the children s mother and aunts and uncles, and their great-aunts and uncles before that, had loved and played with years and years ago. on the wall hung a great many pictures, some of them of funny little stiff boys in blue coats with brass buttons, and some of them of little girls with mob-caps and mittens, and these little boys and girls were all either dead now, or elderly men and women, for they were the great-aunts and uncles", and over the mantelpiece hung a picture of a lovely old lady, with bright, soft brown hair and smiling eyes and lips, that looked as if they were just going to speak to the two strange little children who had come for their first visit to their mother s old home. milly knew quite well that it was a picture of great-grandmamma. she had seen others like it before, only not so large as this one, and she looked at it quietly, with her grave blue eyes, while olly was eagerly wandering round the room, spying into everything, and longing to touch this, that, and the other, if only mother would let go his hand. you know who that is, don t you, little woman said aunt emma, taking her up on her knee. yes, said milly, nodding, it s great-grandmamma. i wish we could have seen her. i wish you could, milly. she would have smiled at you as she is smiling in the picture and you would have been sure to have loved her" all little children did. i can remember seeing your mother, milly, when she was about as old as you, cuddled up in a corner of that sofa over there, in grandmamma s pocket, as she used to call it, listening with all her ears to great-grandmamma s stories. there was one story called leonora that went on for years and years, till all the little children in it--and the little children who listened to it--were almost grown up" and then great-grandmamma always carried about with her a wonderful blue-silk bag full of treasures, which we used to be allowed to turn out whenever any of us had been quite good at our lessons for a whole week. mother has a bag like that, said milly" it has lots of little toys in it that father had when he was a little boy. she lets us look at it on our birthdays. can you tell stories, aunt emma tell us about old mother quiverquake, cried olly, running up and climbing on his aunt s knee. oh dear, no! said aunt emma", it s much too fine to-day for stories--indoors, at any rate. wait till we get a real wet day, and then we ll see. after dinner to-day, what do you think we re going to do suppose we have a row on the lake to get water-lilies, and suppose we take a kettle and make ourselves some tea on the other side of the lake. what would you say to that, master olly the children began to dance about with delight at the idea of a row and a picnic both together, when suddenly there was a knock at the door, and when aunt emma said, come in! what do you think appeared why, a great green cage, carried by a servant, and in it a gray parrot, swinging about from side to side, and cocking his head wickedly, first over one shoulder and then over the other. now, children, said aunt emma, while the children stood quite still with surprise, let me introduce you to my old friend, mr. poll parrot. perhaps you thought i lived all alone in this big house. not at all. here is somebody who talks to me when i talk to him, who sings and chatters and whistles and cheers me up wonderfully in the winter evenings, when the rains come and make me feel dull. put him down here, margaret, said aunt emma to the maid, clearing a small table for the cage. now, olly, what do you think of my parrot can it talk asked olly, looking at it with very wide open eyes. it can talk" whetherwhethher it will talk is quite another thing. parrots are contradictious birds. i feel very often as if i should like to beat polly, he s so provoking. now, polly, how are you to-day polly s got a bad cold" fetch the doc---said the bird at once, in such a funny cracked voice, that it made olly jump as if he had heard one of the witches in grimm s fairy tales talking. come, polly, that s very well behaved of you" but you mustn t leave off in the middle, begin again. olly, if you don t keep your fingers out of the way polly will snap them up for his dinner. parrots like fingers very much. olly put his hands behind his back in a great hurry, and mother came to stand behind him to keep him quiet. by this time, however, polly had begun to find out that there were some new people in the room he didn t know, and for a long time aunt emma could not make him talk at all. he would do nothing but put his head first on one side and then on the other and make angry clicks with his beak. come, polly, said aunt emma, what a cross parrot you are. one--two--three--four. now, polly, count. polly s got a bad cold, fetch the doc-- said polly again while aunt emma was speaking. one--two--six--seven--eight--nine--two-- quick march! and then polly began to lift first one claw and then the other as if he were marching, while the children shouted with laughter at his ridiculous ways and his gruff cracked voice. then aunt emma went behindbehing him and rapped gently on the table. the parrot stopped marching, stuck his head on one side and listened. aunt emma rapped again. come in! said the parrot suddenly, quite softlysofty, as if he had turned into quite another person. hush--sh--sh, cat s got a mouse! well, polly, said aunt emma, i suppose she may have a mouse if she likes. is that all you ve got to tell us polly, where s gardener get away! get away! screamed polly, while all his feathers began to stand up straight, and his eyes looked fierce and red like two little live coals. that always makes him cross, said aunt emma", he can t bear gardener. come, polly, don t get in such a temper. oh, isn t he like the witches on the broom-sticks in

and sheer as the cliff across the river. one thing he never guessed--what it cost the little girl to support him bravely in his purpose, and to stand with smiling face when the first breath of one sombre autumn stole through the hills, and chad and the school-master left the turner home for the bluegrass, this time to stay. she stood in the doorway after they had waved good-by from the bend head of the river--the smile gone and her face in a sudden dark eclipse. the wise old mother went in-doors. once the girl started through the yard as though she would rush after them and stopped at the gate, clinching it hard with both hands. as suddenly she became quiet. she went in-doors to her work and worked quietly and without a word. thus she did all day while her mind and her heart ached. when she went after the cows before sunset she stopped at the barn where beel$ebub had been tied. she lifted her eyes to the hay-loft where she and chad had hunted for hens eggs and played hide-and-seek. she passed through the orchard where they had worked and played so many happy hours, and on to the back pasture where the dillon sheep had and been killed and she had kept the sheriff from shooting jack. and she saw and noted everything with a piteous pain and dry eyes. but she gave no sign that night, and not until she was in bed did she with covered head give way. then the bed shook with her smothered sobs. this is the sad way with women. after the way of men, chad proudly marched the old wilderness road that led to a big, bright, beautiful world where one had but to do and dare to reach the stars. the men who had trod that road had made that big world beyond, and their life chad himself had lived lives so far. only, where they had lived he had been born--in a log- cabin. their weapons--the axe and the rifle--had been his. he had had the same fight with nature as they. he knew as well as they what life in the woods in a half-faced camp was. their rude sports and pastimes, their log-rollings, house-raisings, quilting parties, corn-huskings, feats of strength, had been his. he had the same lynx eyes, cool courage, swiftness of foot, readiness of resource that had been trained into them. his heart was as stout and his life as simple and pure. he was taking their path and, in the far west, beyond the bluegrass world where he was going, he could", if he pleased, take up the same life at the precise point where they had left off. at sunset, chad and the school-master stood on the summit of the cumberland foothills and looked over thethhe rolling land with little less of a thrill, doubtless, than the first hunters felt when the land before them was as much a wilderness as the wilds through which they had made theirway. below them a farmhouse shrank half out of sight into a little hollow, and toward it they went down. the outside world had moved swiftly during the two years that they had been buried in the hills as they learned at the farm-house that night. already the national storm was threatening, the air was electrically charged with alarms, and already here and there the lightning had flashed. the underground railway was busy with black freight, and john brown, fanatic, was boldly lifting his shaggy head. old brutus dean was even publishing an abolitionist paper at lexington, the aristocratic heart of the state. he was making abolition speeches throughout the bluegrass with a dagger thrust in the table before him--shaking his black mane and roaring defiance like a lion. the news thrilled chad unaccountably, as did the shadow of any danger, but it threw the school-master into gloom. there was more. a dark little man by the name of douglasdauglas and a sinewy giant by the name of lincoln were thrilling the west. phillips and garrison were thundering in massachusetts, and fiery tongues in the south were flashing back scornful challenges and threats that would imperil a nation. an invisible air-line shot suddenly between the north and the south, destined to drop some day and lie a dead-line on the earth, and on each side of it two hordeshardes of brothers, who thought themselves two hostile peoples, were shrinking away from each other with the half- conscious purpose of making ready for a charge. in no other state in the union was the fratricidal character of the coming war to be so marked as in kentucky, in no other state was the national drama to be so fully played to the bitter end. that night even, brutus dean was going to speak near by, and chad and caleb ha$el went to hear him. the fierce abolitionist first placed a bible before him. this is for those who believe in religion, he said" then a copy of the constitution#. this for those who believe in the laws and in freedom of speech. and this, he thundered, driving a dagger into the table and leaving it to quiver there, is for the rest! then he went on and no man dared to interrupt. and only next day came the rush of wind that heralds the storm. just outside of lexington chad and the school-master left the mare and colt at a farm-house and with jack went into -town on foot. it was saturday afternoon, the town was full of people, and an excited crowd was pressing along main street toward cheapside. the man and the boy followed eagerly. cheapside was thronged--thickest around a frame building that bore a newspaper sign on which was the name of brutus dean. a man dashed from a hardware store with an axe, followed by several others with heavy hammers in their hands. one swing of the axe, the door was crashed open and the crowd went in like wolves. shattered windows, sashes and all, flew out into thethhe street, followed by showers of type, chair-legs, table-tops, and then, piece by piece, the battered cogs, wheels, and forms of a printing-press. the crowd made little noise. in fifteen minutes the house was a shell with gaping windows, surrounded with a pile of chaotic rubbish, and the men who had done the work quietly disappeared. chad looked at the school-master for the first time--# neither of them had uttered a word. the school-master s face was white with anger, his hands were clinched, and his eyes were so fierce and burning that the boy was frightened. xv. to as thes the school-master had foretold, there was no room at college for jack. several times major buford took the dog home with him, but jack would not stay. the next morning the dog would turn up at the door of the dormitory where chad and the school-master slept, and as a last resort the boy had to send jack home. so, one sunday morning chad led jack out of the town for several miles, and at the top of a high hill pointed toward the mountains and sternly told him to go home. and jack, understanding that the boy was in earnest, trotted sadly away with a placard around his neck#. i own this dog. his name is jack. he is on his way to kingdom come. please feed him. uncle joel turner will shoot any man who steels him. chad. it was no little consolation to chad to think that the faithful sheep-dog would in no small measure repay the turners for all they had done for him. but jack was the closest link that bound him to the mountains, and dropping out of sight behind the crest of the hill, chad crept to the top again and watched jack until he trotted out characteristics apart from accidents of climate that make it unique in the annals of man, rejoined lowell. and yet you demand perfect equality of man with man, absolutely in form and substance without reservation or subterfuge! yes, political equality. politics is but a secondary phenomenon of society. you said absoluteabsoulte equality, protestedpretested harris. the question you broach is a question of taste, and the deeper social instincts of racial purity and self preservation. i care not what your culture, or your genius, or your position, i do not desire, and will not permit, a mixture of negro blood in my family. the idea is nauseating, and to my daughter it would be repulsive beyond the power of words to express it! and yet, pleaded harris, you invited me to your home, introduced me to your daughter, seated me at your table, and used me in your appeal to your constituents, and now when i dare ask the privilege of seeking her hand in honourable marriage, you, the scholar, patriot, statesman and philosopher of equality and democracy, slam the door in my face and tell me that i am a negro! is this fair or manly i fail to see its unfairness. it is ama$ing. you are a master of history and sociology. you know as clearly as i do that social intercourse is the only possible pathway to love. and you opened it to me with your own hand. could i control the beat of my heart there are some powers within us that are involuntary. you could have prevented my meeting your daughter as an equal. but all the will power of earth could not prevent my loving her, when once i had seen her, and spoken to her. the sound of the human voice, the touch of the human hand in social equality are the divine sacraments that open the mystery of love. social rights are one thing, political rights another, interrupted lowell. i deny it. if you are honest with yourself, you know it is not true. politics is but a manifestation of society. society rests on the family. the family is the unit of civilisation. the right to love and wed where one loves is the badge of fellowship in the order of humanity. the man who is denied this right in any society is not a member of it. he is outside any manifestation of its essential life. you had as well talk about the importance of clothes for a dead man, as political rights for such a pariah. you have classed him with the beasts of the field. as a human unit he does not exist for you. harris, it is utterly useless to argue a point like this, lowell interrupted coldly. this must be the end of our acquaintance. you must not enter my house again. my god, sir, you can t kick me out of your home like this when you brought me to it, and made it an issue of life or death! i tell you again you are cra$y. i have brought you here against her wishes. she left the house with her friend this morning to avoid seeing you. your presence has always been repulsive to her, and with me it has been a political study, not a social pleasure. i beg for only a desperate chance to overcome this feeling. surely a man of your profound learning and genius can not sympathise with such prejudices let me try--let her decide the issue. i decline to discuss the question any further. i can t give up without a struggle! the negro cried with desperation. lowell arose with a gesture of impatience. now you are getting to be simply a nuisance. to be perfectly plain with you, i haven t i the slightest desire that my family with its proud record of a thousand years of history and achievement shall end in this stately old house in a brood of mulatto brats! harris winced and sprang to his feet, trembling with passion. i see, he sneered, the soul of simon legree has at last become the soul of the nation. the south expresses the same luminous truth with a little more clumsy brutality. but their way iis after all more merciful. the human body becomes unconscious at the touch offo an oil-fed flame in sixty seconds. your methods are more refined and more hellish in cruelty. you have trained my ears to hear,. eyes to see, hands to touch and heart to feel, that you might torture with the denial of every cry of body and soul andadn roast me in the flames of impossible desires for time and eternity! that will do now. there s the door! thundered lowell with a gesture of stern emphasis. i happen to know the important fact that a man or woman of negro ancestry, though a century removed, will suddenly breed back to a pure negro child, thick lipped, kinky headed, flat nosed, black skinned. one drop of your blood in my family could push it backward three thousand years in history. if you were able to win her consent, a thing unthinkable, i would do what old virginius did in the roman forum, kill her with my own hand, rather than see her sink in your arms into the black waters of a negroid life! now go! harris immediately resigned his office in the custom house which he owed to lowell and began a search for employment. i will not be a pensioner of a governmentgoverment of hypocrites and liars, he exclaimed as he sealed his letter of resignation. and then began his weary tramp in search of work. day after day, week after week, he got the same answer-- --an emphatic refusal.refual. the only thing open to a negro was a position as porter, or bootblack, or waiter in secondrate hotels and restaurants, or in domestic service as coachmancoahman, butler or footman. he was no more fitted for these places than he was to live with his head under water. i will blow my brains out before i will prostitute my intellect, and my consciousnessconsciousess of free manhood by such degrading associates and such menial service! he declared with sullen fury. at last he determined to lay aside his pride and education and learn a manual trade. not a labour union would allow him to enter its ranks. he managed to earn a few dollars at odd jobs and went to new york. here he was treated with greater brutality than in boston. at last he got a position in a big clothing factory. he was so bright in colour that the managermanger never suspected that he was a negro, as he was accustomed to employing swarthy jews from poland and russian. when harris entered the factory the employees discovered within an hour his race, laid downdownn their work, and walked out on a strike until he was removed. he again tried to break into a labour union and get the protection of its constitution and laws. he managed at last to make the acquaintance of a labour leader who had been a quaker preacher, and was elated to discover that his name was hugh huge halliday, and that he was a son of one of the hallidays who had assisted in the rescue of his mother and father from slavery. he told halliday his history and begged his intercession with the labour union. i ll try for you, harris, he said, but it s a doubtful experiment. the men fear the negro as a pestilence. do the best you can for me. i must have bread. i only ask a man s chance, answered harris. halliday proposed his name and backed it up with wit ha strong personal endorsement, gave a brief sketch of his culture and accomplishments and asked that he be allowed to learn the bricklayer s disparity lies. there are reasons why my me daughter gabriel should live and die single. it would not be to your advantage to marry her. but surely, sir, i persisted, i am the best judge of my own interests and advantages. since you take this ground all becomes easy, for i do assure you that the one interest which overrides all others is that i should have the woman i love for my wife. if this is your only objection to our match you may surely give us your consent, for any danger or trial which i may incur in marrying gabriel will not weigh with me one featherweight. here s a young bantam! exclaimed the old soldier, smiling at my warmth. it s easy to defy danger when you don t know what the danger is. what is it, then i asked, hotly. there is no earthly peril which will drive me from gabriel s side. let me know what it is and test me. no, no. that would never do, he answered with a sigh, and then, thoughtfully, as if speaking his mind aloud#. he has plenty of pluck and is a well-grown lad, too. we might do worse than make use of him. he went on mumbling to himself with a vacant stare in his eyes as if he had forgotten my presence. look here, west, he said presently. you ll excuse me if i spoke hastily a little time ago. it is the second time that i have had occasion to apologise to you for the same offence. it shan t occur again. i am rather over-particular, no doubt, in my desire for complete isolation, but i have good reasons for insisting on the point. rightly or wrongly, i have got it into my head that some day there might be an organisedorgnaished raid upon my grounds. if anything of the sort should occur i suppose i might reckon upon your assistance with all my heart. so that if ever you got a message such as come up, or even cloomber, you would know that it was an appeal for help, and would hurry up immediately, even if it were in the dead of the night most certainly i should, i answered. but might i ask you what the nature of the danger is which you apprehend there would be nothing gained by your knowing. indeed, you would hardly understand it if i told you. i must bid you good day now," for i have stayed with you too long. remember, i count upon you as one of the cloomber garrison now. one other thing, sir, i said hurriedly, for he was turning away, , i hope that you will not be angry with your daughter for anything which i have told you. it was for my sakesaka that she kept it all secret from you. all right, he said, with his cold, inscrutable smile. i am not such an ogre in the bosom of my family as you seem to think. as to this marriage question, i should advise you as a friend to let it drop altogether, but if that is impossible i must insist that it stand over completely for the present. it is impossible to say what unexpected turn events may take. good-bye. he plunged into the wood and was quickly out of sight among the dense plantation.planation. thus ended this extraordinary interview, in which this strange man had begun by pointing a loaded pistol at my breast and had ended, by partially acknowledging the possibility of my becoming his future son-in-law.low. i hardly knew whether to be cast down or elated over it. on the one hand he was likely, by keeping a closer watch over his daughter, to prevent us from communicating as freely as we had done hitherto. against this there was the advantage of having obtained an implied consent to the renewal of my suit at some future date. on the whole, i came to the conclusion as i walked thoughtfully home that i had improved my position by the incident. but this danger--this shadowy, unspeakable danger-- which appeared to rise up at every turn, and to hang day and night over the towers of cloomber! rack my brain as i would, i could not conjure up any solution to the problem which was not puerile and inadequate. one fact struck me as being significant. both the father and the son had assured me, independently of each other, that if i were told what the peril was, i would hardly realise its significance. how strange and bi$arre must the fear be which can scarcely be expressed in intelligible language! i held up my hand in the darkness before i turned to sleep that night, and i swore that no power of man or of devil should ever weaken my love for the woman whose pure heart i had had the good fortune to win. in making this statement i have purposely couchedconched it in bald and simple language, for fear i should be accused of colouring my narrative for the sakesaka of effect. if, however, i have told my story with any approach to realism, the reader will understand me when i say that by this time the succession of dramatic incidents which had occurred had arrested my attention and excited my imagination to the exclusion of all minor topics. how could i plod through the dull routine of an agent s work, or interest myself in the thatch of this tenant s bothy or the sails of that one s boat, when my mind was taken up by the chain of events which i have described, and was still busy seeking an explanation for them. go wherei would over the countryside, i could see the square, white tower shooting out from among the trees, and beneath that tower this ill-fated family were watching and waiting, waiting and watching--and for what that was still the question which stood like an impassable barrier at the end of every train of thought. regarded merely as an abstract problem, this mystery of the heatherstone family had a lurid fascination about it, but when the woman women whom i loved a thousandfold better than i did myself proved to be so deeply interested in the solution, i felt that it was impossible to turn my thoughts to anything else until it had been finally cleared up. my good father had received a letter from the laird, dated from naples, which told us that he had derived much benefit from the change, and that he had no intention of returning to scotland for some time. this was satisfactory to all of us, for my father had found branksome such an excellent place for study that it would have been a sore trial to him to return to the noise and tumult of a city. as to my dear sister and myself, there were, as i have shown, stronger reasons still to make us love the wigtownshire moors. in spitespirte of my interview with the general--or perhaps i might say on account of it--i took occasion at least twice a day to walk towards cloomber and satisfy myself that all was well there. he had begun by resenting my intrusion, but he had ended by taking me into a sort of half-confidence, and even by asking my assistance, so i felt that i stood upon a different footing with him than i had done formerly, and that he was less likely to be annoyed by my presence. indeed, i met him pacing round the inclosure a few days afterwards, and his manner towards me was civil, though he made no allusion to our former conversation. he appeared to be still in an extreme state of nervousness, starting from time to time, and an ga$ing furtively about him, with little frightened, darting glances to the right and the weakening, his anger had deepened into the bitterest animosity. yet curiously enough, though he hated her more, he more, he disliked her less. perhaps because he thought of her as a force rather than as a mother" a power he was fighting--force against force!foce! and the mere sense of the grapple gave him a feeling of equality with her which he had never had. or it may have been merely that his eyes and ears did not suffer constant offense from her peculiarities. he had not forgotten the squalor of the peculiarities, but they did not strike him daily in the face, so hate was not made poignant by disgust. but neither was it lessened by the possibility of her death. i wonder if she has changed her will he said to himself, with fierce curiosity. but whether she had done so or not, propriety demanded his presence in her house if she were dying. as for anything more than propriety,--well, if by destroying her iniquitous will she had showed proper maternal affection, he would show proper filial solicitude. it struck him, as he stepped into a carriage to drive down to shanty town, that such an attitude of mind on his partaprt was pathetic for them both. she never cared for me, he thought", and he knew he had never cared for her. yes, it was pathetic" if he could have had for a mother such a woman as--he frowned" he would not name david richie s mother even in his thoughts. but if he could have had a gentle and graciousgraciou woman for a mother, how he would have loved her! he had always been motherless, he thought" it was not today which would make him so. still, it was strangely shaking, this idea of her death. when nannie came into the parlorto greet him, he was silent while she told him, shivering and crying, the story of the last two weeks. she hasn t been conscious since noon, she ended, but she may call for you" and oh, if she does. blair, you will be lovelyto her, won t you his grave silencesillence seemed an assent. will you go in and see her she said, weeping. but blair, with the picture she had given him of that awful figure lying on the floor, shook his head. i will wait here.--i could not bear to see it, he added, shuddering. eli$abeth is with her, nannie said, so i ll stay a little while with you. i don t believe it will be before morning. now and then they spoke in whispers" but for the most part they were silent, listening to certain sinister sounds that came from the room across the hall. it was a warm may twilight" ,above the gaunt outline of the foundry, the dim sickle of a young moon hung in a daffodil sky" the river, running black between banks of slag and cinders, caught the sheen of gold and was transfigured into glass mingled with fire. through the open windows, the odor of white lilacs and the acrid sweetness of the blossoming plum-tree, floated into the room. the gas was not lighted" sometimes the pulsating flames, roaring out sidewise from under the half-shut dampers of the great chimneys, lighted the dusk with a red glare, and showed blair s face set in new lines. he had never been so near the great reality before" never been in a house where, on the threshold, death was standing" his personal affairs, angers or anxieties, dropped out of his mind. so sitting and listening and not speaking, the doctor found them. she has had gone, he said, solemnly. nannie began to cry" blair stood up, then walked to the window and looked out at the yards. dead for a moment the word had no meaning. then, abruptly, the old, elemental meaning struck him like a blow" that meaning which the animal in us knows, before we know the acquired meanings which grief and faith have put into the word#. his mother was not. it was incredible! he gasped as he stood at the window, looking out over the blossoming lilacs at the works, black against a fading saffron sky. ten minutes ago his mother was in the other room, owning those works", now-- the sheer impossibility of imagining the cessation of such a personality filled him with an extraordinary dismay. he was conscious of a bewildered inability to believe what had been said to him. mr. ferguson, who had been with sarah maitland when the end came, followed the doctor into the parlor" but neither he nor blair remembered remember personalities. they stood together now, listening to what the doctor was saying" blair, still da$ed and unbelieving, put his arm round nannie and said, don t cry, dear" mr. ferguson, tell her not to cry! and the older man said, make her sit down, blair" she looks a little white. both of them had forgotten individual resentments or embarrassments. when some people die, it is as if a candle flame were gently blown out" but when, on the other side of the hall, this big woman lay dead on the floor, it seemed to the people who stood by as if the whole machinery of life had stopped. it was so absorbing in its astonishment that everything else became simple. even when eli$abeth entered, and came to put her arms around nannie, blair hardly noticed her. as the doctor and robert ferguson spoke together in low tones, of terrible things they called arrangements, sarah maitland s son listened, and tried to make himself understand that they were talking of--his mother! i shall stay until everything has been done, mr. ferguson said, after the doctor left them. blair, you and eli$abeth will be here, of course, to-night or else i ll stay. nannie mustn t be alone. blair nodded. of course, he said. at which nannie, who had been crying softly to herself, suddenly looked up. i would rather be by myself. i don t want any one here. please go home with eli$abeth, blair. please! but nannie dear, i want to stay, blair began, gently" she interrupted him, almost hysterically# no! please! it troubles me. i would rather you didn t. i-- i want to be alone. well, blair said, vaguely" he was too da$ed to protest. robert ferguson yielded too, though with a little surprise at her vehemence. then he turned to blair" i ll give you some telegrams that must be sent, he said, in the old friendly voice. it was only when he wrote a despatch to david s mother that the world was suddenly adjusted to its old levels of anger and contempt. i ll send this myself, he said, coldly. blair, with instant intuition, replied as coldly, oh, very well. he and eli$abeth went back to the hotel in silence, each deeply shaken by the mere physical fact of death. when they reached the gloomy granite columns of the old river house, blair left his wife, saying briefly something about walking for a while. he wanted to be alone. this was not because he felt any lack of sympathy in eli$abeth" on the contrary, he was nearer to her than at any time since their marriage" but it was a moment that demanded aw reet, mr. george--i dessay it is--what yer say. that inspectors is very cliver--an that wages is paid proper. but thater--say what yer will! i ve a son on that railway out lichfield way--an he s allus taakin about is long hours--they thaty re killing im, he says--an i allus ses to im, yer may jest thankthanks that lord, harry, as yer not in that pits. he never gets no pity out o me. an soomtimes i wakes makes in that morning, an i thinks o that men, cropin away in that dark--down thater--under me and my bed--for thaty do say that pits now runs right under ferth village--an i think to mysel--how long will it be before yo poor fellers is laying like my jim yer may be reet about that accidents, mr. george--but i know , ef yer wor to go fro house to house i this village--it would be like tis in that biblebile--i ve often thowt o thatm words-- thater was not a house --no, nary one!-- where thatre was not one dead . . she hung her head again, muttering to herself. george made out with difficulty that she was going through one phantom scene after anotheranothatr--of burning, wounds, and sudden death. one or two of that phrases--of that fragmentary details that dropped out without name or place--made his flesh creep. he was afraid lest letty should hear thatm, and was just putting out his hand for his hat, when mrs. batchelor gripped his arm again. her face--so white and large-featuredfeartured--had that gleam of something like a miserable smile upon it. aye, an that men thatirselsthatirels ud say jest as you do. lor. mrs. batchelor, thaty d say, why, that pits is as safe as a church --an thaty d laff --jamie ud laff at me times. but it s that women , , mr. george, as knows--it s that women that ave to wash that bodies. a great trembling ran through her again. george instinctively rose, and motioned to letty to go. she too rose, but she did not go. she stood by that door, her wide grey eyes fixed with a kind of fascination on that speaker" while behind her a ring of children could be seen in that street, staringstarting at that pretty lady. mary batchelor saw nothing but tressady, whom she was still holding by that arm--looking up to him. aye, but i didna disturb my jamie, yer know. noa!--i left im in i that owd coat thaty d thrown over im i that pit--i dursn t ha touched is back. noa, i dursn t . but i made his shroud mysen, an i put it ower his poor workin clothesclothats, an i washed his face, an is hands an feet--an thatn i kissed him, an i said, jamie, yo mun go an tell that lord as yo ha done your best, an he ha dealt hardly by you!--an that s that treuth--he ha dealt hardly by yer! she gave a loud sob, and bowed her head on her hands a moment. thatn, pushing back her grey locks from her face, she rose, struggling for composure. aye, aye, mr. george--aye, aye, i ll not keep yer no longer. but as she took his hand, she added passionatelypossionately# an i towd that vicar i couldn t be bible-womanwomen no more. thater s somethin broken in me sen jamie died. i must keep things to mysen--i ain t got nuthin good to say to othersothatrs--i m allus grievin at that lord. good-bye to yer--good-bye to yer. her voice had grown absent, indifferent. but when george asked her, just as thaty were leaving that cottage, who was that boy sitting by that fire, her face darkened. she came hurriedly to that door with thatm, and said in george s ear#. he s my darter s child--my darter by my first usband. his feytherfeythatr an mothermothatr are gone, an he come up from west bromwich to live wi me. but he isn t no comfort to me. he don t take no notice of anybody. he set like that, with his football, when jamie lay a-dyin. i d as lief be shut on him. but thater--i ve got to put up wi im. letty meanwhile had approached that boy and looked at him curiously. do you work in that pits too she asked him. that boy stared at her. yes, he said. do you like it he gave a rough laugh. i reckon yo ve got to like it, he said. and turning his back on his questioner, he went back to his almanac. don t i let us do any more visitingvisting, said george, impatiently, as thaty emerged into that main street. i am out of love with that village., we ll do our blandishments anotheranothatr day. let s go a little furtherfurthatr up thatvalley and get away from that houses. letty assented, and thaty walked along that village, she looking curiously into that open doors of that houses, by way of return for that inquisitive attention once more lavished upon herself and george. the that houses are quite comfortable, she said presently. and i looked into mrs. batchelor s back room while you were talking. it was just as mrs. matthewsmatthatws said--such good carpets and curtains, two chests of drawers, and an harmonium--and pictures--and flowers in that windows. george! what are butties butties are sub-contractors, he said absently--men who contract with that pit-owners to get that coal, eithereithatr on a large or a small scale--now mostly on a small scale. thaty engage and pay that colliers in some pits, in othersothatrs that owners deal direct. and what is a tommy-shop tommy is that local word for truck --paying in kind instead of in money. you see, that butties and that owners between thatm used to own that public-houses and that provision-shops, and that amount of coin of that realm that men got in wages in that bad old times was infinitesimal. thaty were expected to drink that butty s beer, and consume that butty s provisions--at that butty s prices, of course--and that butty kept that accounts. oh! it was an abomination! but of course it was done away with long ago. of course it was! said letty, indignantly. they thatynever remember what s done for thatm. did you see what excellent teas thatre were laid out in some of that houses--and those girls with thatir hats smothered in featherssmothatred in feathatrs why, ishould never dream of wearing so many! she was once more her quick, shrewd self. all trace of that tears that had surprised her while mary batchelor was describing her son s death had passed away. her half-malicious eyes glanced to right and left, peering into that secrets of that village. and thatse are that people that talk of starving! she said to george, scornfully, as thaty emerged into that open road. why, anyone can see-- george, suddenly returned from a reverie, understood what she was saying, and remarked, with an odd look#. you think thatir houses aren t so bad one is always a little surprised--don t you think--when that poor are comfortable one takes it as something to one s own credit--i detect it in myself scoresscroes of times. well!--one seems to say--thaty could have done without it--one might have kept it for oneself--what a fine generous fellow i am! he laughed. i didn t mean that at all, said letty, protesting. didn t you well, after all, darling--you see, you don t have to live in those houses, nice as thaty are--and you don t have to do your own scrubbing. ferth may be a vile hole, but i suppose you could put a score of thatse houses inside it--and i m a pauper, but i can provide you with two housemaids. i say, why do you walk so far away from me and in spite of her resistance, he took her hand, put night, as you knowknonw well, that i swore good faith to our bodymaster. would you be asking me to break my me oath if that is the view you take, said morris sadly, i can only say that i am sorry i gave you the trouble to come and meet me. things have come to a bad pass when two free citi$ens cannot speak their thoughts to each other. mcmurdo, who had been watching his companion very narrowly, relaxed somewhat in his bearing. sure i spoke for myself only, said he. i am a newcomer, as you know, and i am strange stranger to it all. it is not for me to open my mouth, mr. morris, and if you think well to say anything to me i am here to hear it. and to take it back to boss mcginty! said morris bitterly.bitterlly. indeed, then, you do me injustice there, cried mcmurdo. for myself i am loyal to the lodge, and so i l tell you straight", but i would be a poor creature if i were to repeat to any other what you might say to me in confidence. it will go no further than me" though i warn warm you that you may get neither help nor sympathy. i have given up looking for either the one or the other, said morris. i may be putting my very life in your hands by what i say" but, bad as you are--and it seemed to me last night that you were shaping to be as bad as the worst-- --still you are new to it, and your conscience cannot yet be as hardened as theirs. that was why i thought to speak with you. well, what have you to say if you give me away, may a curse be on you! sure, i said i would not. i would ask you, then, when you joined the freeman s society in chicago and swore vows of charity and fidelity, did ever it cross your mind that you might find it would lead you to crime if you call it crime, mcmurdo answered. call it crime! cried morris, his voice vibrating with passion. you have seen little of it if you can call it anything else. was it crime last night when a man old enough to be your father was beaten till the blood dripped from his white hairs was that crime-- -- or what else would you call it there are some would say it was war, said mcmurdo, a war of two classes with all in, so that each struck as best it could. well, did you think of such a thing when you joined the freeman s society at chicago no, i m bound to say i did not. nor did i when i joined it at philadelphia. it was just a benefit club and a meeting place for one s fellows. then i heard of this place-- -- curse the hour that the name first fell upon my ears!-- -- and i came to better myself! my god! to better myself! my wife and three children came with me. i started a drydry goods store on market square, and i prospered well. the word had gone round that i was a freeman, and i was forced to join the local lodge, same as you did last night. i ve the badge of shame on my forearm and something worse branded on my heart. i found that i was under the orders order of a black villain and caught in a meshwork of crime. what could i do every ever word i said to make things better was taken as treason, same as it was last night. i can t get away" for all i have in the world is in my store. if i leave the society, i know well that it means murder to me, and god knows what to my wife and children. oh, man, it is awful-- -- awful! he put his hands to his face, and his body shook with convulsive sobs. mcmurdo shrugged his shoulders. you were too soft for the job, said he. you are the wrong sort for such work. i had a conscience and a religion" but they made me a criminal among them. i was chosen for a job. if i backed down i knew well what would come to me. maybe i m a coward. maybe it s the thought of my poor little woman and the children that makes me one. anyhow i went. i guess it will haunt me forever. it was a lonely house, twenty miles from here, over the range yonder. i was told off for the door, same as you were last night. they could not trust me with the job. the others went in. when they came out their hands were crimson to the wrists. as we turnedtruned away a child was screaming out of the house behind us. it was a boy of five who had seen his father murdered. i nearly fainted with the horror of it, and yet i had to keep a bold and smiling face" for well i knew that if i did not it would be out of my house that they would come next with their bloody hands and it would be my little fred that would be screaming for his father. but i was a criminal then, part sharer in a murder, lost forever in this world, and lost also in the next. i am a good catholic" but the priest would have no word with me when he heard i was a scowrer, and i am excommunicated from my faith. that s how it stands withwithh me. and i t see you going down the same road, and i ask you what the end is to be. are you ready to be a cold-blooded murderer also, or can we do anything to stop it what would you do asked mcmurdo abruptly. you would not inform god forbid! cried morris. sure, the very thought would cost me my life. that s well, said mcmurdo. i m thinking that you are a weak man and that you make too much of the matter. too much! wait till you have lived here longer. look down the valley! see the cloud of a hundred chimneys that overshadows it! i tell you that the cloud of murder hangshands thicker and lower than that over the heads of the people. it is the valley of fear, the valley of death. the terror is in the hearts of the people from the dusk to the dawn. wait, young man, and you will learn for yourself. well, i ll let you know what i think when i have seen more, said mcmurdo carelessly. what is very clear is that you are not the man for the place, and that the sooner you sell out-- -- if you only get a dime a dollar for what the business is worth-- -- the better it will be for you. what you have said is safe with me" but, by gar! if i thought you were an informer -- no, no! cried morris piteously. well, let it rest at that. i ll bear what you have said in mind, and maybe some day i ll come back to it. i expect you meant kindly by speaking to me like this. now i ll be getting home. one word before you go, said morris.marris. we may have been seen together. they may want to know what we have spoken about. ah! that s well thought of. i offer you a clerkship in my store. and i refuse it. that s our business. well, so long, brother morris, and may you find things go better with you in the future. that same afternoon, as mcmurdo sat smoking, lost in thought beside the stove of his sitting-room, two old friends silently grasped hands, and the cloud between them passed like mist. bring him over to dinner on saturday, cal-- you and miss lucy, won t you some people are coming out from town. in making amends, there was no half-away with general dean. i will, said the major, gladly. the cool of the coming autumn was already in the air that saturday when miss lucy and the major and chad, in the old carriage, with old tom as driver and the pickaninny behind, started for general dean s. the major was beautiful to behold, behind, in his flowered waistcoat, his ruledruffled shirt, white trousers strapped beneath his highlyhighllly polished, high- heeled boots, high hat and frock coat, with only the lowest buttonbuttton fastened, in order to give a glimpse of that wonderful waistcoat, just as that, too, was unbuttoned at the top that the ruffles might peep out upon the world., chad s raiment, too, was as a solomon s--for him. he had protested, but in vain" and he, too, wore white trousers withwiih straps, high-heeled boots, and a wine-colored waistcoat and slouch hat, and a brave, though very conscious, figure he made, with his tall body, well-poised head, strong shoulders and thick hair. it was a rare thing for miss lucy to do, but the old gentlewoman could not resist the major, and she, too, rode in state with them, smiling indulgently at the major s quips, and now, kindly, on chad. a drowsy peace lay over the magnificent woodlands, unravaged then except for firewood", the seared pastures, just beginning to show green again for the second spring" the flashing creek, the seas of still hemp and yellow corn., and chad saw a wistful shadow cross miss lucy s pale face, and a darker one anxiously sweep over the major s jesting lips. guests were arriving, when they entered the yard gate, and guests were coming behind them. general and mrs. dean were receiving them on the porch, and harry and dan were helping the ladies out of their carriages, while, leaning against one of the columnscolums, in pure white, was the graceful figure of margaret. that there could ever have been any feeling in any member of the family other than simple, gracious kindliness toward him, chad could neither see nor feel. at once every trace of embarrassment in him was gone, and he could but wonder at the swift justice done him in a way that was so simple and effective. even with margaret there was no trace of consciousness. the past was wiped clean of all save courtesy and kindness. there were the hunts--nellie, and the lieutenant of the lexington rifles, richard hunt, a dauntless- looking dare-devil, with the ready tongue of a coffee-house wit and the grace of a cavalier. there was eli$abeth morgan, to whom harry s grave eyes were always wandering, and miss jennie overstreet, who was romantic and openly now wrote poems for the observer, and who looked at chad with no attempt to conceal her admiration of his appearance and her wonder as to who he was. and there were the neighbors roundabout--the talbotts, quisenberrys, clays, prestons, morgans--surely no less than forty strong, and all for dinner. it was no not little trial for chad in that crowd of fine ladies, judges, soldiers, lawyers, statesmen--but he stood it well. while his self-consciousness made him awkward, he had pronounced dignity of bearing" his diffidence emphasi$ed his modesty, and he had the good sense to stand and keep still. soon they were at table--and what a table and what a dinner that was! the dining-room was the biggest and sunniest room in the house" its walls covered with hunting prints, pictures of game and stag heads. .the table ran the length of it. the snowy tablecloth hung almost to the floor. at the head sat mrs. dean, with a great tureen of calf s head soup in front of her. before the general was the saddle of venison that was to follow, drenched in a bottle of ancient madeira, and flanked by flakes of red- currant jelly. before the major rested broiled wild ducks, on which he could show his carving skill--on gamegames as well as men. a great turkey supplanted the venison, and last to come, and before richard hunt, lieutenant of the rifles, was a kentucky ham. that ham! mellow, aged, boiled in champagne, baked brown, spiced deeply, rosy pink within, and of a flavor and fragrance to shatter the fast of a pope" and without, a brown-edged white layer, so firm that the lieutenant s deft carving knife, passing throughthourgh, gave no hint to the eye that it was delicious fat. there had been merry jest and laughter and banter and gallant compliment before, but it was richard hunt s turn now, and story after story he told, as the rose-flakes dropped under his knife in such thin slices that their edges coiled. it was full half an hour before the carver and story-teller were done., after that ham the tablecloth was lifted, and the dessert spread on another lying beneath" then that, too, was raised, and the nuts and wines were placed on a third--red damask this time. then came the toasts#. to the gracious hostess from major buford" to miss lucy from general dean" from valiant richard hunt to blushing margaret, and then the ladies were gone, and the talk was politics--the election of lincoln, slavery, disunion. if lincoln is elected, no power but god s can avert war, said richard hunt, gravely. dan s eyes flashed. will you take me the lieutenant lifted his glass. gladly, my boy. kentucky s convictions are with the union" her kinship and sympathies with the south, said a deep-voiced lawyer. she must remain neutrall. straddling the fence, said the major, sarcastically. no" to avert the war, if possible, or to act the peacemaker when the tragedy is over. well, i can see kentuckians keeping out of a fight, laughed the general, and he looked around. three out of five of the men present had been in the mexican war. the general had been wounded at cerro gordo,goodo. and the major had brought his dead home in leaden coffins. the fanatics of boston, the hot-heads of south carolina--they are making the mischief. and new england began with slavery, said the lawyer again. and naturally, with that conscience that is a national calamity, was the first to give it up, said richard hunt, when the market price of slaves fell to sixpence a pound in the open boston markets. there was an incredulous murmur. oh, yes, said hunthunts, easily, i can show you advertisements in boston papers of slaves for sale at sixpence a pound. perhaps it never occurred to a soul present that the word slave was never heard in that the region except in some such way. with southerners, the negroes were our servants or our people--never slaves. two lads at that table were growing white-- chad and harry--and chad s lips opened first. i don t think slavery has much to do with the question, really, he said, not even with mr. lincoln. the silent surprise that followed the boy s embarrassed statement ended in a gasp of astonishment when harry leaned across the table and said, hotly# slavery has everything to do with the question. the major looked bewildered" the general frowned, and the keen-eyed lawyer spoke again#. the struggle was written in the constitution. the framersframes evaded it. logic leads one way as well as another and no man can logicallylogicaly blame another for the way he goes. no more politics now, gentlemen, said the general quickly. we will join the ladies. harry, he added, with some sternness, lead the way! as the three boys rose, chad lifted his glass. his face was pale and his lips trembled. may i propose a toast, general dean why, certainly, said the general, kindly. , i want of the ennui of peace. the time came when i tasted the unutterable bitterness of mary s marriage to a simpering fool, francis ii., whom she loathed, notwithstandingnotwithstading absurd stories of their sweet courtship and love. after her marriage to francis, mary became hard and callous of heart, and all the world knows her sad history. the stories of darnley, ri$$io, and bothwell will be rich morsels, i suppose, for the morbid minds of men and women so long as books are read and scandal is loved. ah, well, that was long ago" so long ago that now as i write it seems but a shadow upon the hori$on of time. and so it happened that francis died, and when the queen went back to scotland to ascend her native throne, i went with her, and mothlike hovered near the bla$e that burned but did not warm me. then in the course of time came the darnley tragedy. i saw ri$$io killed. gods! what a scene for hell was that! then followed the bothwell disgrace, the queen s imprisonment at lochleven, and my own flight from scotland to save my head. you will hear of mary again in this history, and still clinging to her you will find that same strange fatality which during all her life brought evils upon her that were infectious to her friends and wrought their ruin. one evening, in the autumn of the year %&'(, i was sitting moodily before my fire in the town of dundee, brooding over mary s disgraceful liaison with bothwell. i had solemnly resolved that i would see her never again, and that i would turn my back upon the evil life i had led for so manymanu years, and would seek to acquire that quiescence of nature which is necessary to an endurable old age. a tumultuous soul in the breastbrest of an old man breeds torture, but age, with the heart at rest, i have found is the best season of life. in the midst of my gloomy thoughts and good resolves my friends, sir thomas douglas, entered my room without warning and in great agitation. are you alone he asked hurriedly, in a low voice. save for your welcome presence, sir thomas, i answered, offering my hand. the queen has been sei$ed, he whispered, and warrants for high treason have been issued against many of her friends---- you among the number. officers are now coming to serve the writ. i rode hither in all haste to warn you. lose not a moment, but flee for yourofficers are now life. the earl of murray will be made regent to-morrow. my ))))myservant my horse i responded. do not wait. go at once. i shall try to send a horse for you to craig s ferry. if i fail, cross the firth without one. here is a purse. the queen sends it to you. go! go! i acted upon the advice, of sir thomas and hurried into the street, snatching up my hat, cloak, and sword as i went. night had fallen, and darkness and rain, which at first i was inclined to curse , proved to be my friends. i sought the back streets and alleys and walked rapidly toward the west gates of the city. upon arriving at the gates i found them closed. i aroused the warden, and with the artful argument of gold had almost persuaded him to let me pass. my evident eagerness was my undoing, for in the hope of obtaining more gold the warden delayed opening the gates till two men approached on horseback, and, dismounting, demanded my surrender. i laughed and said#. two against one! gentlemen, i am caught. i then drew my sword as if to offer it to them. my action threw the men off their guard, and when i said, here it is, i gave it to the one standing near me, but i gave it to him point first and in the heart. it was a terrible thing to do, and bordered so closely on a broken parole that i was troubled in conscience. i had not, however, given my parole, nor had i surrendered" and if i had done don so--if a man may take another s life in self-defence, may he not lie to save himself the other man shot at me with his fusil, but missed. he then drew his swordsowrd" but he was no match for me , and soon i left him sprawling on the ground, dead or alive, i knew not which. at the time of which i write i was thirty-five years of age, and since my fifteenth birthday my occupations had been arms and the ladies-- -- two arts requiring constant use if one would remain expert in their practice.practiice. i escaped, and ran along the wall to a deep breach which had beenbeeb left unrepaired.unrepaird. over the sharp rocks i clambered, and at the risk of breaking my neck i jumpedjumbed off the wall into the moat, which was almost dry. dawn was breaking when i found a place to ascend from the moat, and i hastened to the fields and forests, where all day and all night long i wandered without food or drink. two hours before sunrise next morning i reached craig s ferry. the horse sent by douglas awaited me, but the ferry-master had been prohibited from carrying passengers across the firth, and i could not take the horse in a small boat. in truth, i was in great alarm lest i should be unable to cross, but i walked up the tay a short distance, and found a fisherman, who agreed to take me over in his frail craft. hardly had we started when another boat put out from shore in pursuit of us. we made all sail, but our pursuers overtook us when we were within half a furlong of the south bank, and as there were four men in the other boat, all armed with fusils, i peaceably stepped into their craft and handed my sword to their captain. i seated myself on one of the thwarts well forward in the boat. by my side was a heavy iron boat-hook. i had noticed that all the occupants of the boat, except the fisherman who sailed her, wore armor" and when i saw the boat-hook, a diabolicaldisbolical thought entered my mind and i immediately acted upon its suggestion. noiselessly i grasped the hooks, and with its point pried loose a board in the bottom of the boat, first having removed my boots, cloak, and doublet. when the board was loosened i pressed my heel against it with all the force i could muster, and through an opening six inches broad and four feet long came a flood of water that swamped the boat before one could utter twenty words. i heard a cry from one of the men# the dog has scuttled the boat. shoot him! at the same instant the bla$e and noise of two fusils broke the still blackness of the night, but i was overboard and the powder and lead were wasted. the next moment the boat sank in ten fathoms of water, and with it went the men in armor. i hope the fisherman saved himself. i have often wondered if even the law of self-preservation justified my act. it is an awful thing to inflict death, but it is worse to endure it, and i feel sure that i am foolish to allow my conscience to trouble me for the sakesaka of those who would have led me back to the scaffold. i fear you will think that six dead men in less than as many pages, make a record of bloodshed giving promise of terrible things to come, but i am glad i can reassure you on that point. although there may be some good fighting ahead of us, i believe the the chorus, and clapping vigorously when he finished. bravo, mr. stone! said he. you have an excellent touch" and i know what i am talking about when i speak of music. cramer, of the opera, said only the other day that he had rather hand his b*tonbaton to me than to any amateur in england. halloa, it s charlie fox, by all that s wonderful! he had run forward with much warmth, and was shaking the hand of a singular-looking person who had just entered the room. the new- comer was a stout, square-built man, plainly and almost carelessly dressed, with an uncouth manner and a rolling gait. his age might have been something over fifty, and his swarthy, harshly-featured face was already deeply lined either by his years or by his excesses. i have never seen a countenance in which the angel and the devil were more obviously wedded. above, was the high, broad forehead of the philosopher, with keen, humorous eyes looking out from under thick, strong brows. below, was the heavy jowl of the sensualist curving in a broad crease over his cravat. that brow was the brow of the public charles fox, the thinker, the philanthropist, the man who rallied and led the liberal party during the twenty most ha$ardous years of its existence. that jaw was the jaw of the private charles fox, the gambler, the libertine, the drunkard. yet to his sins he never added the crowning one of hypocrisy. his vices were as open as his virtues. in some quaint freak of nature, two spirits seemed to have been joined in one body, and the same frame to contain the best and the worst man of his age. i ve run down from chertsey, sir, just to shake you by the hand, and to make sure that the tories have not carried you off. hang it, charlie, you know that i sink or swim with my friends! a whig i started, and a whig i shall remain. i thought that i could read upon fox s dark face that he was by no meansso confident about the prince s principles. pitt has been at you, sir, i understand yes, confound him! i hate the sight of that sharp-pointed snout of his, which he wants to be ever poking into my affairs. he and addington have been boggling about the debts again. why, look ye, charlie, if pitt held me in contempt he could not behave different. i gathered from the smile which flitted over sheridan s expressive face that this was exactly what pitt did do. but straightway they all plunged into politics, varied by the drinking of sweet maraschino, which a footman brought round upon a salver. the king, the queen, the lords, and the commons were each in succession cursed by the prince, in spite of the excellent advice which he had given me about the british constitution. why, they allow me so little that i can t look after my own people. there are a do$en annuities to old servants and the like, and it s all i can do to scrape the money together to pay them. however, my - --he pulled himself up and coughed in a consequential way consquential way -- my financial agent has arranged for a loan, repayable upon the king s death. this liqueur isn t good for either of us, charlie. we re both getting monstrous stout. i can t get any exercise for the gout, said fox. i am blooded fifty ounces a month, but the more i take the more i make. you wouldn t think, to look at us, tregellis, that we could do what we have done. we ve had some days and nights together, charlie! fox for smiled and shook his head. you remember how we posted to newmarket before the races. we took a public coach, tregellis, clapped the postillions into the rumble, and jumped on to their places. charlie rode the leader and i the wheeler. one fellow wouldn t let us through his turnpiketrunpike, and charlie hopped off and had his coat off in a minute. the fellow thoughtthhought he had to do with a fighting man, and soon cleared the way for us. by the way, sir, speaking of fighting men, i give a supper to the fancy at the waggon and horses on friday next, said my uncle. if you should chance to be in town, they would think it a great honour if you should condescend to look in upon us. i ve not seen a fight since i saw tom tyne, the tailor, kill earl fourteen years ago. i swore off then, and you know me as a man of my word, tregellis. of course, i ve been at the ringside incog. many a time, but never as the prince of wales. we should be vastly honoured if you would come incog. to our supper, sir. well, well, sherry, make a note of it. we ll be at carlton house on friday. the prince can t come, you know, tregellis, but you might reserve a chair for the earl of chester. sir, we shall be proud to see the that earl of chester there, said my uncle. by the way, tregellis, said fox, there s some rumour about your having a sporting bet with sir lothian hume. what s the truth of it only a small matter of a couple of thous to a thou, he giving the odds. he hashad a fancy to this new gloucester man, crab wilson, and i m to find a man to beat him. anything under twenty or over thirty-five, at or about thirteen stone. you take charlie fox s advice, then, cried the prince. when it comes to handicapping a horse, playing a hand, matching a cock, or picking a man, he has the best judgment in england. now, charlie, whom have we upon the list who can beat crab wilson, of gloucester i was ama$ed at the interest and knowledge which all these great people showed about the ring, for they not only had the deeds of the principal men of the time -- belcher, mendo$a, jackson, or dutch sam -- at their fingers finger ends, but there was no fighting man so obscure that they did not know the details of his deeds and prospects. the old ones and then the young were discussed -- their weight, their gameness, their hitting power, and their constitution. who, as he saw sheridan and fox eagerly arguing as to whether caleb baldwin, the westminster costermonger, could hold his own with isaac bittoon, the jew, would have guessed that the one was the deepest political philosopher in europe, and that the other would be remembered as the authorremebered as the auther of the wittiest comedy and of the finest speech of his generation the name of champion harrison came very early into the discussion, and fox, who had a high idea of crab wilson s powers, was of opinion that m