CHAPTER III.

Bruce Herald, Volume XI, Issue 1013, 28 May 1878, Page 3

CHAPTER 111.

MO OB COTTAGE. \ The cottage to whieb John Denton I had ascribed the gift of augury was a 'bpmelyone enough, but still superior to | those inhabited by quarrymen generally. It had been once the residence of the bailiff of 'the great aheep^farmer -j] : but since Slogan had borne a more .'profitable crop than scanty fleeces, the bouse had, been unoccupied, and waß rented Very cheaply, by reason of its desolate and out-of-the-way position. It, was fully three miles from any other tesidence, and set in the very heart; ot the bills. Not a ; tree, not a shrub grew near ,it r although in a deep gully close beside it were bida few mountain ashes; bufcyet in summer-time;': as now, eye could scarcely light on ! a more charming sppt. Rich pebple in 'town would ha^e given much to be transported thither for a single August day. If the air could only have been bottled- — as perhaps may happen some day — and the sunshine hermetically preserved within, it would have fetched guineas a dozen ; and as it was, the view from the cottage door bad been photographed, and delighted many a beholder who had stood there in the flesh. A' waste \of purple moorland stretched before if, fringed to westward by a long jagged line of hills, beyond ?which *rose still .higher ranges, that in most days were lost in cloudland, but'now stood out with the utmost clearness, each" slab of stone distinct in its mountain wall.v ' To the north rose Slogan, immense, imperial ; a giant cone unscathed on thiß side by man's ravages ; to the east lay the glittering ocean ; and on the south a promontory streached far seaward, in the hollow of whose sandy bay a little town sparkled like a jewel. ' ' Nature, however, which hod thus put forth her best efforts to enhance this mountain dwelling, was but ill assisted by Art. The bouse— r a one. storied building, with a roof of fchatch, on which great stones were placed (as though it had been a mark for aerolites), to .secure it against the violent winds— boasted but six small and scantily furnished rooms. Even in summer, the roueh wind forced its way through the ill-fitting door and < crazy windows, while in winter, matters were wretched indeed ; and it was to the 1 inclemency of Moor Cottage that Ellen Blackburn chiefly owed her pale features and delicate frame. The fireplaces not built upon scientific - principles and. the peat-smoke,, instead,, of taking the toad provided for it to the upper air, wandered, through Jthe house,. filling it with a cough-provokiDg

haze, and b\&ckenip.g.^.;t\i&_\Qtr__ ceilings. The picture«queneß? of, the family poverty, in sh6rt (as usual), ceased with the external surrountlingia. : Nor was the meanness of discomfort of the interior of jthe cottage "redeenied byr its; solitary female inmate, who coul now be discerned by the young coupl°, aa they drew near, standing in the doorway", and screening hers e?eß with her h»!)4 from the glare of the euo. She was watching them , intenjtly, and a gleam of "mitiiif action sat on her large and Bomewhat coarse features as she did bol Agfife .! and poor living (ltd. -.not im-' prove folks' looks, and it was difficult to detect in -that bony frame^and/that ruddy: but haggard face, even the faihv^' test '^;tV ( ace3 4>f., the bpajaty, for which Anthotiy /Biacktmrh, in ' the ;O hey--4ay of his early manhood, had lost caste 1 and fortuue. Yet fifty years ago, Mary b^d been- ? the yillSge beauty of the place Anthony— was: the^ young squire': tsftt 1 ' and fi'tiel^-^pr'opSrtibhed ;; dark as a gipsy, but; vvith'a tenderness of ex- '' preseibn in her splendid eyes that never gipsy, wor?- ;.Even now, .her, eyes were briifiant,* : 'ana' i p^r^^ by contrast with the loose and shrivelled ?skin^Ta^which lhe^ wfe«j^ set. .A Her teeth, , .tpo^jWo^e rvery ■ , regu.la.r/..an,d ..perfeetj for , one wh^bfd lived so';- long- on, such hiard 'ffcre. r there^ was 'nothing to distinguish hef^bttf r tftfy a< of her age v and class, upon j^ho^ t^je^primal curse of.Vtoo toilsome life seems to have fallen more flian ? oir the^'sex^figain^ which \% "was pronoiin^ced. r ' lt^He'V u dress was sordid gagged j i>anji,,as 0 her sleeve^; rolled half-way upher arms, it was "bffiy^too- ml&ifestf 1 th^; bleanlineds'was no"lougerone of Mrs'ißlttbkbiirn's virtues. . ;1 r Luj- s.i .J:.>;dw ro <■ . ■-.■■ She welcomedr Jobjn Denton very heartily, "and l 'dii'sted' V' J ctiair for his receptibiirin'fepitfe of W -prevent her.^ It did her goodjishe Baid,¥to see; him -a! most as .much r (she added, with a ely look) its it did her grand-daughterV How kind it was of him to leave the .wofk.s^wher%'h6'^^aV''alway.B so busy, to accompany Ellen across the moor. It was evident, in short, that Mrs Blackburn was anxious as ever J 'was Belgravian mother ■4n^.tne;''b'|iß'o-Df^a'n^eligible"f^o^», to^encour■age"the! y bung to verlooker, in the prose • ■'cutibn'^of-'his'^ddre'ss^Svarid that she did not eyen need to bear the good news he brought with'biui to 'favour his suit. 4 That two hundred a year, indeed, with the. house with eight rooms/ , seemed to sound in ter ears, as almost too great '& stroke of fortune^ for after one ■involuntary lifting up bf^her ■* hands, 5 she began sighing and 'shakiugnheE bead. ; ," Ah, well," said she, "then I suppose this is the last Visit as you will pay us poor folks, Mr Denton ? You will 'be too proud and too great a man to ■ come to Moor flottage, I warrant; for that's only tthe way ; of the world." , . , ~ " I know as to that; Mrs Blackburn," returned the overlooker,^ r with sonje; indigjiatiQn, for he did not under-stand-the feminine craft-of-his hostess ; " but itis n&t «»y 'way, I assure you: if I was ever so rich, I should be only proud because I had the wealth to offer, Ellen. I valueiier far v above fh'bui^ arid 1 income,,. ,and itwaspnly : for. her sake that thave. 'waited^untii I ; had won ! them, te ask your consent to b ur . Carriage.'' v •^Andvthat you. shall haye^ John Denton," returned Mrs Blackburn, enthusiastically, while she held but her two huge hands to shake. "I won't kiBS you," chuckled she, -%beca^se -I dare say you had rather that that' were done by aeputy." / 1 ~ "Not to co3stradict~aTrad:y7and his^^grandmother- in-la^-electtb J boot, John applied to- the Droxy "thus indicated, upon the ; spot, who executed the order accordingly, though hot without' some modest'dinidence. ' ""Deary me !" continued the old: ? woman, approvedly, " how much better is this, ' Ellen —a. hard-workingV well-to-do young fellow, with his nice little income, ami housV witlx^ eight rooms— -though not mbreithah you will want^^ in time^ young' peopliß, j d a re ?ay— -than any of those fancy matches which your grandfather ia always inventing for you, with the great folks of Derby shire ! A bird in the hand is worth, two, in >.->the, jbush — that's my motto, I've lived on "hopes two 1 ong mylelf not to know it's but lean meat 'There's, some" as likes castles in the air, but I'd exchange the very finest of them, with park and grounds complete, for an 'eight-roomed house bniltbfSiogan stone! Money we have not to offer with v you?; bride, John ; but I am an old housewife, and shall be able tq come and give you many a hint or two as to tnis and that, lib aavei if not to get." ■•* rt sfiid^d,;Mrß Blackburn, we shall be tomake "use of; any hint you may please to give us," returned John/ whose : naturally : keen perceptibns i were^ entirely blunted for the time by the contiguity of his charmer, or be would surely not have thus, surrendered hearth arid hoiooe at discretion at the first blast of a grandmother-in-law's trumpet. ; - ■" You speak, I'm sure, most fair and kind," said the old woman; "and it's quite a pleasure to 'listen to such talk, after hearing no.thing but. icomplainta $0^ lpngi and looking for nothing but disap-^ poiritments : -you shall 'have' L my good^ wbrd^ and welcome, with my husband, Joßn= Denton i ; tmd,aJl;l;^iß^ iß,vthat;f if his answer is not * yes,| when you ask. for our Elieri, he Must Be dbwrirightide^ prived of "his r witiß.'' I thought him foolish enough in opposing you of old^ (for I have always stood your friend with him) ; but now if he objects to you still,' being in such' an excellent position, I shall get out of all. patience, and speak ;'inj^iDiliid^ngbt ; ' tout. '!Htbwever^ let ua hope^ he^ will not thua^ fly inth^&ce-df Prudence." ''^men !'^ answered IJentonf wth a [grave smile. v "JBut, i«t all events, I do not think he will oppose himself to our

happiness, for a certain reason, for ..which I elibuld ptherwiße^-for. : his Bake-P-beP sorry.^ c lliave r lieard': "to day that yojang Mr Richard Blackburn is engaged to be married." , " They? Blackburns U are Val way s ; for, marrying carry,". said the old woman bitterly. >" 3'it there, its jiot for me to complain,'' added s|ie with a sigh; '"I will do' Anthony the j ustice- to say > that, ! during x all His trouble, he has neyeitf bnce reproached me, but only his own' un-nat^aral^in.^-'Going to marry,^iß he ? and without a father to say him nay to whomsoever he etioses. ' She will not! be "flattered withchopeg; of being a^grand lady, and iberi^find herself eveif worse off than "the from 1 which she sprang: Her boys will be brought up delicately, out of the all -temptation—- leajst. to do Bucb~thingß ; a 8 the law takes count of;'* tti© bid woman's rough tones became strangely soft and pitiful and her eyes filled with tears. " There's a r verse ■iti [■ffiM ßible 'somewhere as says -that 'The destruction of the poor is their poverty; I wonder whether the rich ever read it, or know what it means.,'' Dehtbri ari'd^Elleti kept silence ; but the latter rbse; r i and 1 put Mr arms about her grandmother's neck, and kissed her. " You're a good' girl,; Ellen," said the old woman quietly. " Your father was a good man— -too. good for this world—-£.nd you take after him. But all of us are not born so gentle and enduring. Even" John here, had he been tried as some has been ' tried—" ' " Nay, grandmother, why r should we talkoftheße things now?" pleaded the young girl. " Ah, why indeed," responded Mrs Blackburn ; " why think of the absent ' and the erring when all is .going so smoothly with ourselves ? That is what your grandfather cays — although, HeaVen knows, it 1 is not because things go so smoothly with him ; sixty-eight,' and nothing saved against the.poor a house — " " What !" interrupted Denton, ' sud-. denly, "do' you think it possible, Mrs Blackburn, that I should permit those who had'brought^up my darling here so well" and loyally, to come to such a pass as that? For the future, when you trink upon your granddaughter, I beg of you' to remember that you Kave'agrandsoi/also.? \ " I thank' you, John Denton, but I j have a son of my own alive," was the cold reply ; and with that Mrs Blackburn stepped firmly across the room and went out at the open door, while the two young people looked at one another with mutual^ embarrasment. The poor woman's "pride ! supported her until she" "was out of their sight and hearing; but as soon as she 1 reached the little gully of which we have ' spoken, and which was the only place of •concealment for miles around, she sat down beneath one of the mountain ashes, and sobbed as though her heart would break. " Oh, "Willy" !" cried she, wringing her large 'gaunt^hands, "why is it I ' cannot give them the lie when men speak evil against you ; and why must a stranger and you be your parents' prop ?" -.. j As sne sat moaning thus with her face in' her hands, and rocking herself to and fro, she was unconscious of the' approach or 1 a little ragged boy, who came whistling leisurely up the glen. He addressed her twice, and even shook her arm before he could gain her attention. "Here's a letter for you, Missis," said he, holding but a missive which had not a little suffered from, contract with his dirty hands. "For me?" cried she, snatching afc it eagerly. " Oh, it it from my Willy V "How should I know unless I read it?" answered the young gentleman, scornfully, v and I think I ought to get summat extra for that. The postman says as how you were to pay me fourpence, 'cause you're beyond the delivery. Mr Blackburn always pays that, he says, for all his letters, and it don't, come to a thousand a year neither, even at that price." " I'll go in and get the money, my lad," said Mrs , Blackburn, staring at the envelope she held tightly in her hand, and too deeply lost in thought to be cognizant of the small "messenger's impertinence, "Who can be writing to Anthony ?* muttered she. "It is surely the same hand that wrote' the news of Richard Blackburn's death, and like it, it has a black rim !" As she looked up thoughtfully, she beheld far across the moor the form of John Denton striding swiftly away in the direction of Slogan. " That's well," mused she. " I could never have kept it from him ; that something had come. How my poor hand shakes, and how my knees tremble und,er me !" " Come," Misses/ 1 was told- not to give up the letter without the fourpence," resumed the shrill voice of the boy ; " you must please to fork ont the money." " You shall have sixpence if you'll only wait a minute," gasped the old women ; "that will be twopence for yourself." Then she fell to turning the letter over and over, and feeling -it about. "It has something in it," said she, softly, "or it must be a very long letter, and folks don't wri'e long letters to beggars like us." Then she looked upward to the blue sky, and into her eyes jQame an ineffable tenderness that brought back to them for an instant their beauty of half a century I a S°* ' " If Anthony, is right after all," ejaculated she — "oh dear; if he is really right, my Willy will come back to us again !" and still keeping her gaze fixed upon/ the letter; she slowly tamed t(K wards the cottage. (To be Confirmed)