Priscilla's Maying.

Evening Post, Volume LXVI, Issue 152, 24 December 1903, Page 9

Priscilla's Maying.

I. HOW MICHEL LEDBETTER AND PRJSCILLA WENT MAYING. There was a man called Ledbotter. Ho was an alderman and a rich man, but Romewhat hard in hit> dealings, and so busy in his counting-house that it is said if an angel of God came to his door he would not have made time to «cc him. Bo that as it may, the f man was prosperous and hard-working, and now, in his age, rich, though ho sprang from small beginnings, having, indeed, been a pauper boy of no parentage. This man lived by the city wall, which, though in parts mined, was still the pride of the town it had defended in tho Civil War. The Alderman, as I say, lived close by it in some dignity, troubling not at all about his neighbours. Thero was perhaps only one who could be called neighbour to him; that was Tobiah the Dissenter. Tho Alderman's great house stood partly at a right angle to the street in which Tobiah lived, so that some of its upper windows looked on to those of the Dissenter. But the neighbours had no dealings with each other; both wer.e well occupied with their own business, even if .the possession <of wealth on the one. side and dissenting opinions on the other, had not been a barrier to intercourse. Ledbetter had ohe son, Michel, a youth not altogether like hist father, but of amoro gentle and generous nature. This young man was kept close at his work, though without urging ho applied himself diligently, being no time-server. But for a little each day he was free to amuse himself. It was after dinner, when the Aldermnn dozed in his chair and the clerks and apprentices were not yet come back to work. At that hour, which was also the one when Tobiah strolled' forth to take tho air, Michel could do what he pleased. In the course of time it <jame about that he was pleased to look from his window — which lay at the back — towards the house of the Dissenter. Enrly that year, before the trivial feasb of Valentine, the Lord had seen fit to afflict Tobiah and take from him his sister. Thin sister left behind her little but her daughter Priseilla, a fair maiden, but perhaps not of the meekest sort. Tobiah' took the girl home with him, and she tended his house with diligence, he, in return, striving to instruct her in the way in which she should go. She also found attractive the windows «t the back when her uncle was out and tho Alderman slept. ■There was some distance between the two windows; neither the boy nor the girl could reach across, nor could they whisper and bo heard. But then neither could, any see them; the only house near was that of Simon Scroat, 'tho .apothecary, empty now since the winter. Old Thomas and his wife, servants to the Alderman, never looked out or noted, so tho two were safe from interruption and observation. And sinco they could not meet in any other wuy, this one^ served them well enough— it is wonderful how well. Thus things were when it befell that Alderman Ledbetter must go away on business. He went one midday, and reckoned to bo bae'e by the next. Before he started he laid many commands upon his son, and left him enough work to well occupy his time. But the work did nob so fill Michel's time that he was not able to bo at his wiudow at the usual uour. Indeed, ho was early, having hurried over his dinner nmdh, and

so had to wait awhile befoie Priseilla appeared. At last bhe cuine ; lirst Michel saw her hand stretched out to push the Mindow open ,- then, as. she lookod forth, not knowing he was there, he h.uv her fully— a flower face, cheeks like roues und throat like may, and envious hair that curled about little pink ears as if* it would fain hide them, from the common grnse. Ho leaned from his window, and she saw him. "You are there, then?" she said, aa if it were the btrangast tiling. He nnswered "Ye«," and' afterwards seemed content to gazo on her in silence. She, however, must be talking, telling him little things of the house and her uncle. Afterwards ho told . her things of his. house, chiefest of which was the going of the Alderman. "He has gone till to-morrow?" she asked; and then, thoughtfully, "Tomorrow, is May-day." Michel said, "Yes; there will be merrymaking in the town. Do you go?" • She shook her head. "People of our sect know better," she said, sedately. " Do you go?" "You know I do not," he answered. She looked up towards the sky, which •promised a fair to-morrow. " Will it j rain?" she asked; and when he answered " No," she said, " I am glad ; it were bad for those who go a-maying." He nodded ; then, without any reason, sho said : " Uncle Tobiah is a mighty i. sleeper ; I wonder — " She stopped, and ' went on, " Mr. Smallpage's John—" "John? \Vho is John ?" Michel asked. She told him in many words. At the ond he said, "And you go maying with him to-morrowi?" I " I did not say ho " (which was indeed true, for John was the last in the town to think of such things). But Michel did not know that, so he said somewhat bitterly : " You are afraid of your uncle ? It is a pity it is not you who is left instead of me." Priseilla turned away. "It is a pity your father did not take you with him," she pouted. Then she pulled the window almost shut, but before she shut it quite she looked out again. "'Twill be a fine dawn to-morrow," she said, as if to herself, and then, softly, " I have nover seen the coming of May." Michel was perplexed, but "Neither have I," he ventured. She did not shut the window nor catch him up. "Shall we? will you—?" he began; and as she stall did not shut the window, rather pushed it wider, he managed in some way to learn that perhaps she might, if the day was good atld her mind did not change, find . it in her heart to go forth with him at to-mor- i row's dawn. He was "scarcely able to believe his j fortune, and said with truth that he did not know what rites were observed when one went for the may. She said she, must instruct him, arid though ho learnt little, something kept them in talk until Tobiah's step sounded on, the stair of his house. • Then, with a last word, they parted, tho windows in either house shut demurely, but not before the hour of to-morrow's meeting was fixed. Thus it is that trouble springs up behind a man, even such as< Tobiah, when he thinks all safe-guarded. Early on the next morning, before the bumost lad or gayest lass in the town was astir, Michel came forth. from the house, by the city wall. He did not wear bis best clothes, as others did, but /his hair was wet, for he had bathed himself ac if he were preparing for some solemn feast. By and by Priseilla crept"" out on to tho wooden fctcps of Tobiah's house, Ha came to her, and with scarcely a word of greeting thjcy , met and took -thoir way down tho street. The found cobbles of the roadway and tho steep gable roofs were gleaming wot with dow, the street looking all soft and grey as if night still lingered, gathering her shadowy skirts beforo she stole 'awav. As they went by winding ways the light grew brighter, and in a lilau bush in some little yard a bird began Id sing as if nil the love in' the world were in its heart. Soon they were out in the country lanes, where violets lurked and primroses could still be seen. The, great elms met overhead, all wet and glistening, clapping their little hands for tho coming of day. Thero were fields on either side where the gross was soft and green and tho buttercups drooped their heads for the weight of the dowdvops the fairies hud hung there. Sleoping trees, too, all gold and green from their new-opened ieaves, and hawthorn, white-veiled for the year's bridal, shining out. on every ■hand. Hera the lark rose 'from under their feet, singing joyously ; hero tho blackbirds piped from every bush, while the thrush and chaffinch and all tho feathered choir joined voice in glad accord. HVre, too, the light was fluedrawn, films of mystery, neither green nor white, softening the distance, filling the wood aisles as incense fills a cathedral nave, and lingering on tho meadow grass us v kiss lingefs ou the lip. It was here, where the grass was long and soft, that Priseilla must take off her shoes to feel the dew on her little bare feet. She had bathed her face with the morning drops, she hud plunged her arms, till they were wet to the elbow ; .now she must try. how its touch felt to her feet. So she took off her shoes and stockings while Michel decorously turned his back ; then with a shiver and & gasp she thrust her feet into the soft green grass. •Miahel turnod about; the little gasp imido him. The sun just then looked over the hill, smiling all down tho land us he touched, the earth with his golden wand. He touched Priseilla; aye, and he touched Michel' too, so that he forgot himself, and seeing (he little pink feeb that hid themselves in the grass as wild roses between leaves, he knelt suddenly and kissed them. "Michel!" Priseilla put out a hind to stay him. He took it, but reverently, as if to do so were a sacrament. " I love you," he whispered — " I love you, sweetest of all the world." And he stooped as if he would kiss her feet again, but stayed, fearing it were outrage. Sho tucked fhem out of sight, scrambling them deep in the grass. "Silly," 'she said, with her head- away, "you arc very^sillyT' And so ho was, to content himself with her feet when her lips did not send him away. ' " Forgive me," he prayed in contrition, und drew back a pace. "My shoes I" sho cried ; nhe had dropped .them an arm's length behind her. Michel turned about to find thorn ; but, "Tlib beetles!" fche sui<J — "the beetles in the grass! They run over my feet!" * ' What could ho do but pick her up and entry her to the stile, tlmt was but a pace away? What could he do, with her face so near and tho hair that hid it blown to his lipjj? He tried not to kiss the curls, he looked straight beforo so as to see nothing; but she turnod her head t.o thai her lips touched his ear. " I love you," she murmured, " I have loved you to loiig<"

In this way did these two go maymg, and in this manner, when tho year was young and tho world new-decked for bridal, did they tell each other the old ktory, which is never old but ulways young, young as the god» and fresh as tho beech leaves of spring. 11. HOW TOBIAH THE DISSENTER AND ALDERMAN LEDBE'ITER HAD SOMETHING TO SAY. Now Tobiah the Dissenter was, as Priscilla had said, a mighty sleeper. He was also a good man, but for all that not all unversed in the ways of mankind. Therefore, calling to mind that the morrow was the Pagan festival of May, and fearing that the maiden under his charge might be tempted to some folly, he told his conscience to call him betimes in the morning. But a good mans conscience is no match for a maiden, and Tobiah's did not call him as early as some other thing called Priscilla, so it happened that when the Dissenter arose he found the bird flown. This naturally angered him, knowing the uselessness of pursuit, he did not attempt to follow her, but instead lay in wait for her return. % By and by she came. He was in the back kitchen, but he heard her let herself in, thinking, no doubt, that he was still above stairs. She came towards the- kitchen, intending, he supposed, to light the fire as if nothing had happened and Set the breakfast as usual. Expecting this, he had forestalled her and already lighted the fire, so that as she opened the door she must 'at once see it and consequently know that he was about and she discovered. She pushed the door and came in; ho heard her, and. listened for her to pause and exclaim. She did neither, but began to move about the kitchen setting the breakfastthings, he judged by the sounds, and singing the whilo : ' When first of work I light the fire, Jesu, first of thoughts inspire, When I wash each cup and plate, Jesu, wash the sins I hate. When clear tho kitchen, make it neat, ' Jesu, dear me from deceit. So far had sho gob when Tobiuh snorted aloud, astonished that one could so sing the while she was trying to deceive. But Priscilla did not appear to f hear the snort, for she went on with her litany : When I wntch and stir the pot, Jesu, watch me, slumber not. When the rooms I sweep and clean, Jesu, sweep ill thoughts unseen. When I set the midday meal, t ' Jesu, set on me thy seal. When I clean each dish and knife, Jesu, clean from sin my life. When spread the supper or the tea, Jesu, spread thy love on me. WKen at last my work is o'er, Jesu, last, thy blessing pour i On me sleeping in my bed, AH I've done and all I've said. So she sang, and Tobiah, when she ceased, pounced out upon her. "Mistress," he said, " are you not afraid to use such words? How is it that you dnre to ask a blessing on what you do and say, when your doings»are the works of the, devil, and youv sayings the words of deception? First you would deceive me, and then you sing ' clear me from deceit.' You blaspheme, mistress, you blaspheme !" Priscilla turned upon him innocent eyes of wonder. " Dear sir, what do you mean?" sho nsked. _ w Mean !" cried Tobiah ; "do you take me for nn ass-head, that you think I do not knoSv that you" have been out? You hope to deceive me, do you, by stealing in befoi'e I should be astir, and setting about your household tasks as if all were as usual !" Priscilla was not shamed; sho pointed to her bonnet, conspicuous on a 1 chair, and still wreathed with may', the branches of white blossom that she had carried home lying beside it. . "Why should I deceive you, uncle? Such a thought nover entered my head " — ns, indeed, it did not when she saw the fire and her necessary discovery, she not being of the sort that commits the waste of a useless . deception that does not deceive— '"of course you must know I was out : have you not lighted the fire— ;for .which 1 owe you thanks?" "Of course, and of courlo!" cried Tobiah, indignant. "Of course, mistress, too, I must, I suppose, be pleased that you should wander the lanes and race the streets with nil the ne'er-do-wells of the town, in the hours, too, when decent folk are abed?" She, did not answer this, so he asked, "Where have you been?" " To gather may." "For what? To wreath their maypole and deck their Jack-in-the-green? Pagan idolatry, sin of the Israelites, who set up their groves on every high hill and under every green tree, dancing before them to the dishonour of themselves ond the wrath of God! Truly has the Lord humbled mo, that one of my house should fall into this sin !" Priscilla pointed to the branches that still lay on the chair. "There aro all the carnal decorations that I have this morning plucked," said she, with curling lips. Tobiah took the poor flowers and crammed them into the blase. "What, then, have you been doing?" he asked. " If you havo not paid the heathen rites for which you rose early, what have you done? Some company must have engrossed you— tell mo his name." PrisciUa's lips curled even more, and lowered lids only half hid her angry eyes. "It seems, good Uncle Tobiah," said she, in the soft voico of a woman who strokes to scratch, "it seems that you know the ways of iniquity well' to so suspect; almost I am tempted to think that you judge me by the doings of your" own iinregenorate youth." But this- was too much for Tobiah. It was 'seldom thut ono answered him back, nevfer a maiden, and she one under his cure, owing obedience and gratitude. For a moment astonishment checked anger and both staved utterance; when ho recovered himself sufficiently, he took tho girl by tho arm and led her upstairs, rebuking her wicked sauciness the while. When ho reached the top of the house, he put her in the garret and locked her there, that she might, consider her m'isdemennors, while he Considered their punishment and tho form his exhortation should take. ■Tims it fnred with, Priseilla. With Jilichel matters v/eto more peaceful for a time, for Alderman Ledbotter did not return till noon, and at first ho was full of business, sotting his 'prentices and clerks -flying, and seeing that Michel had done what h«d been set him. Fortunately, the youth had worked thnt day as ouo inspired by that spirit which makes the irksbme pleasant and the common beautiful. Of the reason the Alderman did noo know, but with tho result ho wus satisfied ; and when he left the counting- i house to dine, he Mas in a good humour, and so epoke of things other than busi- ■

noss. A» ha had come through the towj § that -morning he had seen the maypoie »t up, and heard the mugiug imd laughter d 1 those gathered there. He did not approvt'-* of such follk's, rotkomng tlnui but «g§ waste of time; still, though he ceilainlyi would ba.ve opposed it, ho at>ked his Bojjf! if he did not wish lor some bhace in tfa£g| junketing. .M Michel answered, Xso. 'm And his father said lightly, "Perhap^B young dog, you have tuken your (htnfl before I returned. H« said this feeling sure that it W«M imfcjssible, but Michel hestiuued for niomeut before he answered. It wa« trull he had had no share in the merryuwlringji yet after another fashion he bad celejl brated the coming of May, and he was ofa a truthful sort. So, after a moment, W$ «»id, " I went a-maying this morning, bubl early, before the day's work began. 1 ' "Oh, hoi" said the Alderman, "yo&S did, did you?" Then he stopped. After all, since tfc» i work was well done it did not greatly^ matter what his son did beforehand — at' least, so it soemnd to him just theui so ho only asked: "With whom did yon; waste your time?" Michel blushed at the thought of i&y. ing her namo aloud, but answered : "Pra, cilia, she who is nieco to Tobiah the Diesenter. " The Alderman had never seen the maid, and ho said so ; whereupon Michel began.' to tell of her, shyly, but by degree*, growing so warm in his words that his lather looked up sharply. "Hoity-toity!" said he. "What have we here? I will havo no coil with maidens, fair or black ; it wattles th» best of a man, his time and his strength. Let .the women tilone — d'ye hear, boy? Most of till let this one be, for the man Tobiah would make himself troublesome. I'll have none of it ; it'B as well you bear it in mind." Michel rose to bis feet, his face before flushed now paled. "Sir," he said, with quietness, "you mistake me. 1 lov* Friscilla, and she me, and— and one day we h.ope to be man and wife." For a moment the Alderman looked at him in blank amazement, then h« burst out laughing. " tracts zooks !" he cried; "what's come to the foolV Sir," he mimicked, "you miatake if you with Priscilla think to set up housekeeping m an empty walnut-shell. First grow a man, boy, and afterwards I'll provide a •wife; oiid sho'll«have nothing to do with the Ranters, I promiso you, and moro than a penny-piece to her name." " Father," so Michel protested earnestly, " I am a man——" " Son," old Ledbetter Broke in, " you are a fool, and " — with a sudden access of fury—" I'll have no more of the folly, b d'ye hear me, sir? No more of it, no more of it!" and ho struck the table so that the glasses jumped. , Michel set his lips, but said nothing, the which angered his father the mor*. "Whero have you met with this hussy t" he asked.' "You mean Mistress Prißcilla?" Mich«L said. " She is no hussy, sir, but — " "But!" roared his father — "But, Mas* ter Impudence, she ia what I call her, and ehe t-hall be, what's more! Wher*' have you seen her, I say, before to. day?" "At the window." "Her window or yours?" " She at hers and I at mine ; thty are not such a great space, apart, botii looking out at tho back." The Alderman stalked to the door. "Thomas!" he called; and when tht old man came, "Go you," he said, "awl shut the shutters at the back, shut them all, tho kitchen and your own chamber too. If your wife haggles, tell her it't my will j sho can have 'em open when you're there, not otherwise ; ona. cant trust a woman when there's any billing and cooing in the wind. And, ThomM, move the boy's goods — take 'em somewhero to the front. SI o more window* at the back for you, young fool," bo he added to his son when Thomas went off on his errand. And again Michel said nothing, so that for a time there was silence. Th« Alderman drank his port slowly, then ho turned to his sou. "How far has the matter gone?" he aeked. " We lovo each other," Michel answer* ed, " and so we have said." "Poof! That is nothing," and th« Alderman turned his gloss to the light. But Michel &aid, "I nave given my wordt" "To what?" "To keep true, and to wed." " And what of that?" *o tho Alderman asked. " What is your word? Your word, foBsooth! D'ye think you're a gentleman, to talk of your word, your honour? I tell you you're no gentleman, but ft good burgher's son; son of a man who worked .for himsolf, and, having gotten for himself, means to keep" what hes got and not have it wasted on pink<faoe<l wenches. We'ro getting too tine, with our * words and our "loves ' and * our promise to wod.' W<? are getting high ia the stomach, proud and wanton by reason of idleness; it's time we had some real ' work to do. There's a cargo of hides 'II bo at the wharf this evening ; you can go down ther.o, Master Lover, for* the nm loading. Sampson Shore's going? Ohyes, I know that. He's going to checli and to oversee; you can go with him» and work with the men. They'll bo working all night— they must for the tide; they'll have lanterns in the hbld. It will help tho stench, I daro say ; what of that ? I've done unsavoury jobs in my time, and worked with my hands too; you can do likewise. Off with you ! yon'U not be at the riverside boforo the boat now And mind, no coming back till the wor§ is done." # So spoke Alderman Ledbetter, aud, v was usual when he spoke, he was obeyed. Michol set off for tho wharf and the boat laden wfifc hides, roughly pickled and o| evil smell; there to work among the m j n l n , hold » where theee ct *n c fc «we and the lanterns burned smokily. 111. While- Alderman Ledbetter was talking to his son, and for tho sake of discipline and the judicious occupying of his time sending him to pass a painful night at tho wharf, Priseilla was still shut within tho garret- It was a small room at tho top of Tobiah's steep house, irom its window one could see tar over the town, sloping roof-eaves ai.d twisted chimney-pots, with here and there a tree in fresh spring dross shooting up between. Pnscilla looked out, and listened as the day waned to the changing noises of the town bolow ; she heard the distant sound of voices and steps in tho street, ■with now aud again faint notes of music brought from those who kept holiday. She turned nwfiy from the window and sat down on the dusty floor— there was nothing else whereon to sit. The voices and musac mockod her; uo maid in tne town had spent such a May-day as she j not one, even the plainest, had been so left to her own reflections, so she thought, and her heart grew hot with anger. Then, like a waft of cool breeze, camo the memory of tie morning, the d»v'p first hours spent in the golden drear; 1 with the young, young wor.d, that lovo' even cm ehe and Michel loved. Tobia-'

could not take that from her — it was verily her own, even to the uamo of her lover. For a while sho sat turning this thought in her mind und living again the morning's hours. Gradually sho grow luovo at peace with the world, more forgetful of' it, until at Tost the dream betunio roaiity to her and t>he slept ;u the garret corner whore she sat. Shn must mwe slopt some timo, for tho day waa beginning io wane when jsho awoke ; the comers of the room were »hadowy, and the dark marks whore damp had stained tho whito plaster stood ouc lileo evil eyes. For v little she sat listening. The houso was very quiet; Tobiaii must have gone out later than usual for his walk, bhe went to tho window, but not with any hope of seeing h,«r lover j it was past tha hour when the Alderman took his sloop. Sho had looked out at the usual timo, and, not teeing Michel then, hod tormented herself as to the reason. She could not havo spoken, with him had ho como— only by craning herseif lur over the sill might she have seen tho top of his head ; while, a high coping hiding her from, view, ho would still lefts have seen her. But from her perch she could see some oi tho windows of tho Alderman's homo, and so had seen tho tihuttars set up. She asked herself what it could mean; surely, surely Mighel was not dead? He had nob vhown himself at the ueual hour, und tho shutters, were all up. Did this darkoning of tho windows while it was yet day mean death— -death of tho UthAP or of tho son? Somotimea she told herself it waa one and sometimes the other ; and sometimes, drawing nearer the truth, she guessed that the Alderman had discovered the friendship that hud grown nbout the windows and so had ordered the shutters to be put up. j Theso thoughts recurred to hex now, as sho looked out at tho roofs and chimneys, still sharp against the pale sky, - where- the swallows circled and wheeled. High up tho light lingered, bub lower down tho shadows wers creeping fast. Here and thoro lamps were beginning to show, but tho Alderman's houso was Btill dark, and the narrow way by the city wall was uniighted too. She could Bee part of this, almost to the lantern that hung at tho, bond; and she could see, too, the door in old Ledfeetter's wall which gave on to tho path and by which he sometimes went in and out. As sho looked she huw coming that way a man who hurried from shadow to »hadow. Sho wondered what could be his business, aud whom ha waa going by that retirod way ; whilo sho wondered, he passed out of sight round tho boi\d by the uniighted lantern. Thon for a. littlo thero wns nothing to look at but the swallows passing to and fro, and the elder-tree that grew near the wall. Old folks said tho elves hid in elder-trees and showed themselves nt twilight, when tho wind shakes thu leaves and children aro going tp bed. She wondered if it wore true; no»o hut chilever saw the elves, thoy never came but to trees that grow by nursery windows. Thero were no children in tho Alderman's house, but the elder-tree was •baking now, as it the elvon were preparing for flight. She leaned out looking for them, aa she had looked bofoixs about her clean-swopt hearth at nightfall-? though Tobiah had told her that all such was heathen wickedness. Just then something caught her eye; not ono of the fairy-folk, but the door in old Ledbettor's wall opening^ as if it were pusbea cautiously from' without. Tho house cast a deep shadow ; nevertheless aho could still see the door open ■lowly, slowly, till at last there- was room for * man to squeeze by. He came— not tho littlo stooping figure of the Aldterman, but the man who had come bylho city wall. Ho shut tho door alter him, and Priscilla fancied it seemed but to dose to, as if the lock no longer caught. Ho wan crossing the stable-yard now »nd coming to tho darkened windows of ono of tho lower rooms. -He had tools with him} ho was trying them on tho ■wrindow-pnne, perhaps evon on the shutter within. Sue could not «oa well, and no one else could soo at all; on the one hand was tho apothecary's house, long empty, and on tlio other was Tobiah's, with but few windows commanding a view. Of tho pair who served tho Alderman, Thomiis wns out, and Mary, his -wife, angered at the darkening of her kitchen, and gone to sit in a littlo room near the street with a window which let her see those that parsed by. Truly tne man who came so quietly had chosen a witfe time for his nefarious errand ; there was but ono person who saw him, and «he high up m the attio, of little account. For a whilo Priscillo- debuted. It was useless to call from tho window — thero wtis nono but tho thief to hear. Useless, too, to creep out by the narrow opening ; oven if the spaco hod been big ©nough for her to pass through, there wns nowhere to oo out the diwy ledge. Whilo nhe still thought, the man* below finished his work and stepped into tho Alderman's house. Quickly afie rose and ■went to tho door of her prison ; perhaps Tobiah had como in without her knowledge ; perhaps sho could make* him hear. She lifced the latch to rattle it, and prepared to shout her loudest. But thero v/m no need, for when eho lifted tho latch the door opened easily. Tubiah had «oftly drawn back tho bolt before he went out ; " for," thought he, "it is not likely *he will try tho door again so late, unless I some urgent need — a fire, to wit — arise." And if nuoh ft thing did happen, and eho being bolted in perished, lie would then, ho felt, be her murderer before tho Lord ; therefore ho took precaution Against such a contingency. This he did the more readily Mince ho, did* not know that »ho had a lover near at bund. Of this Piiscilla knew nothing, and •whou the door opnnqd thus magically she half thought that tho elves had como to her xescuo nnd so at last rewarded her fop her good housewifery, and that in n- better way than chopping wood or doing oilier drudgery. Hlych or no, she did not stop long in her prison now that the door was open, but took her way out into tho little scrubbed passage and down to the floor below. The house was all very "till and quiet, warm from the warmth of tho day and full of soft shadows that camo from nowhoro and lurked j everywhere, muring the familiar strange. Carefully aho stole down stairs to tho I hallway. There sho ]>au«nfl a moment to listen, but still there was no sound, «o soon she had the door open And was out in tho street. There were bub few people about— ono or two who talked far down towards the twist at tho bottom of the road ; but they did not notice her, for as yet; the lamps were nob lighted here. She slipped round the corner without any seeing her, «nd came to the strout where tho Alderman's house fronted. It looked to her go commanding, when sho oamo to it, that she was moro than half afraid of going up and knocking at the door. But the matter was one that adnfitted of no delay, so eho mounted the step and knocked a sounding rap with the great brass knocker. Tho sound echood through the houso strangely, for the door itood on the jar j but no one came. She waited a- while, then, growing fearful lest Tobiah should come down tho street and sco her, sho knocked again. Again the knock echoed, but still no one camo. How should they? Old Mary, who «hould have minded the door, had just stepped out to speak with a neighbour passing below her window. Sho and the other tfoodwife stood but a fw paces up tho road, bub their heads, nid-nodding touether, wero over-full of their gossips news to heed such a trifle »8 her. So she waited and waited, and nt lcwt, growing desperato, pushed open tho'door and walked in iinbiddon. " They can't bo nil out," »he said, «nd iteppsd into the wide hall-pUce. feub it seemed as if thoy were. She

jjeopt.. uito the room on the kft, but thcio waa no one theie ; ntraighc-baoked chairs, and painted wainscot, and chimv j.rvs fiom Nankiu bought wh«n the Alderman's wife was alive, but never a bign of life. On the right was tho room where old Ledbetter bad dined, and whero ho situ when he sont luu *on to the wkiuf. But it had boon onnpty some time, for Michel wus gone to fiiifil his father's command, and tho old man Mas in Ins count-ing-house, wueiH! ho. sub with hit books, though his men had all gone. Pikcillu wont ou and game to the foot of the btnira For a moment *l>e stood listening and looking up. The stairs woro wmo and firm— there was no cieaking under the foot there. In a. little while sho bogan to go up, for' she thought sho heard liio sound vi one moving above, and it came to her mmd that inaybo Wifjhol was locked in, oven us she herself had been. But 'when sho l eached tho top site stopped, for she did not know which way to go, and in the gray twilight she could nob tell where sho waa nor whom eho might suddenly meet. So auo stood in a corner and waited, trusting to h'nd some guidance. Suddenly, as sho waited, she heard a small sound near at hand ; a. rasping noise it was, vuuh as iv liio makes when it is used with care.. She know it, ' and guessed that it boded no good. Soitly sho slipped oil her shoes, and on stockinged feet tiptoed to tho door from whence it camo, Sho scooped to the keyhole and listened, holding her breath lest iic who waa within should hear. There was a sound of cautious steps. Ho was moving. To tho door? site wondered, nnd held hevsolt ready to fly. No I tho other w»y; ho must bo nonr tho window now. Now ' wait tho thno I Sho seised the handle ; quick ns thought she oponed the door looked in } quick ns thought closed it again, and, before tho man within ooulct reach it, or her, had bolted it iirni mid tight, Then, without stopping to seek her shoes, sho fled downstairs as quick as her feet would cany her, for hor look in tho room had shown her a man who workod at an iron chest', and the man was he who had come creeping by tho city wall. Ho had eeou hor, truly ; ho had looked round whon sho looked in. Ho had sprung to tho door, but not in timo ; ulie had reckoned to get the bolt homo beforo ho could roach her, and sho had dono it. Ho was safely trapped, if only she could find Komo one beloro ho forced a way out. So sho flew with swift feet downstairs — anywhere that sho could find one to tnko her captive. Now Alderman Ledbetter «at in his counting-house, cloao'.y (studying •'tho books whero his moneys wero all set down. A lamp burned before him, nnd ouo could s«o that ho smiled, for tho moneys read well. To him, thus pleasantly busy, one- came by way of tho door which joined tho counting-aoase to tho dwelling and which nono but bimselt and his son evor used. " Push !" and the door How open, and thero ou thothresbhold stood: a little maid with flushed face and eyes that shone. " Alderman Ledbetter I" she cried, " there is & man in your houso who breaks open your groat box and oeeks for something within I" " Whatlf" said tho Alderman ; " what!" and ho turned him slowly round, not knowing yet what to make of the newo or the bnngor. , "Quick l" waa all sho answered: "I have him fchut in ; if you are quick you will take him ; he if in tho big rocrtn at tho top of the etairs." "That room I" tho Alderman cried, with a c«toh at bis heart, "My room!" and he sprang up and took a weapon fvpm his drawer. " Thomas, Thomas : he roared, io that tho old man, who had bufa Just come in, heard him and came Hying. "Thomas, there's a. thief in the houso !" Lord! c*i*i" says Thomas, and goes to the window and bawls " Watch 1" and " Help !" with tho Lord knows what todo beside. To 'Pviscilla, who had soon .her, thief and taken her thief with no more noise than tho patter of her little foet, it seemed that a deal must bo done before he could bo made ueciuu. Bub thero wus one thing done which surprised her much, and disconcerted her some : Aldonflftn Led better made hor fast iv the countinghouse while the business was going forward ; sti(<i locked hor in the dusty room, with the deaks and papers ana great ledgers that .stood soberly side by side. bo it wns that again that day she found herHclf & prisoner ; but nho felt euro this time that it could not end very ill, so she waited with patience, looking^ nbout her at tho room where Michel spent the most of his days. Sho had found hi|i place and seated herself in it, sho had even tukon tho pen she deemed his, and, if tho truth must bo known, put n kiss on Us ruftlcd feuthera, before any one came back to her. Sho was perched high on a stuol, scribbling with the kissed gooHC-quill, whon tho Alderman came in, und so buny wus she that ulie did not hear him open the door. > I "Mistress," he said, looking her over with his little Hhrowd eyes, "I owo you a debt." " \yiiiuh, sir> you havo paid by looking me in." " I must cravo ,yonr pardon,' 1 he faroteatod: "lam nn old man and suspicious even of pretty faces, but I will make what amends 1 may." " Will you? 1 she said, and examined him from under lowered lids, as if sho doubted. "Most certainly/ ho answered gallantly, for assuredly it was a pretty flower for a nmn to find in his countinghouse, especially on *uch an crrana. " You havo to-night saved qortain valuables for me. Toll me how 'you did it, and how you came here." She told from the beginning, but omitted to toll whore she was when she saw the thief — omitted, too, her own namo *ud place of abode. Old Ledbetter did not notice the omission. He laughed when she had finished her tale. 'By the Lord," he ciied, "'twas well done I ThoroVi tho making of a mnn in you, mistress. I would I hnd you for a eon." Prisoilla bluehcd and looked down » " I could but be a daughter,* she said. Tho words brought a sudden thought j to the Alderman. " You could bo that !" ho said. " Why should you not? Why not, forsooth 1 You shall 1 At least I may get a grandson worth his salt I What say you, mistress, to taking my Hon Soy tho debt I owe? Ho is a fool, I know, but ft gildod fool, and without -vice ; I huve eeen to that." j Priscilla held the pen te her lips, as if she bit the feathers in thought. " SupJ losing," she said — and ho'r voice was aw, so that it soeinod to her that she could hear her own heart beat übove it — " supposing he'won't take mo?" "Suppose no such thing I" tho Alderman cried. "He shall take you if 1 say it. Do you ulv* the word, and the thing is done. Were you the dustman's danghtel 1 , ho should wed you *t my bidding." Priscilla turned away and put down tho quill. "Very wufl," she said,, "I givo the word. 1 will tako your son for my reward ; but I nni no dustman's daughter." She twisted about and faced him. "I am niece to Tobiah the Dissenter." ' * Whether it was obstinacy that kopt old Ledbetter to his bargain, or whether Priscilla's self won some hold upon him, ft? not clear. Certain it it, however he may have faltered at one time, in the eiuf he was ploasod to go on with it j" indeed, so fully decided wns lie to wed the girl to Michel, that he must go then and theio to propound the match to Tobiah. , Piiscillft tried to dissuade him from such hasty action ; she know that It wero well to consider times ami seasons in broaehiiitf some matters to her uncle.

But tho Alderman would not hear of delay ; ho could think oi no reason for it, and Pruvilla. could not toll him of this one. Ho oh* ho went to tho Dissenter's, and oft" went Pr-tecilla with, him, inly praying that they might Hnd Tobiak in a hoft and yielding mood. But tho fatex willed otherwise, Whon they came to tho stoop houso, the good man was but lately in. and so but lately nwaro that Priseilla hnd escaped, and accordingly in » mood of storn righteousnebs. 110 wus about to set forth to seek tho girl when she appeared, and ho hailed Tier return as that of a prisoner to justice. Alderman Ledbetter he thanked sMlfl.v for having brought back tho truant. He did not ho much as ask him to come within doors, but stood on t\ie et«p to hear what he had to say of Friseilla's doings. It was there, porforco, on the woodon stairs that led sideways to the street, that tho Alclorm«n had to speak of the ollinnco with which h» proposed to honour tho maid. Priscilla had been bidden go within, but she stayed in the dark of tho passage to. listen ; Bbc drew bated breath while the Aldorman spoke, and held it when Tobiah answered. " Sir," so said the Dissenter, " I am obliged for the offer ofyour son, but I must beg leave to decline. My sistor's child will not wed with ono so much more wealthy than she, neither will she wed with any but ono of her own creed — and not that until she has learned sundry things which, as yet, appear to oe unknown to her." There was a littlo noise behind him ; PriHeilla would have spoken, but he stood the more squarely in the doorway, so thab she could not so much as look out. "If," said he, "sho is purposed to sell herself for a silk gown, I am nob so purposed, and I will explain the same to her. 1 have the honour to wish you a good-night." And upon that he closed the door> leaving the- Aldorman to go homo swenring, the which he did with great heat. Indeed, when ho wiim within doors, he cursed himself, among others, for a fool, in that he had ever stooped to .propose tho match to a Ranter and nn nddlepato Dissenter, as ho then called Tobiah. Ho vowed ho would never again speak of it, or for a moment entertain the thought, no matter who prayed him. Yet he was not at all satisfied even with this vow. The girl had token his fancy, and ho deemed her suitable above any to bo tho mother to his grandson ; moreover, ib always pleased him ill to be thwarted. Accordingly ho rampaged in his count-ing-houfie, and before bedtime, even, went to a room at the back of his house ,antl took down a shutter. " Curse you !" he said, shaking his flat at Tobiah's dark windows. " Curse you for a fool arid an obstinate, high-stom-ached knave !" and he committed him to tho care of the devil both hero and hereafter. In the meantime Tobiah set about his own affairs. When he shut tho door upon Alderman Ledbetter he was already, determined aa to what he would do ; and when, afterwards, ho talked with Priscilhi, and learned thab the proposed marriage was not only tho Alderman'a doing, but also Priscilla's earlier ohoice, he wan the more determined. He wns astonished at tho duplicity of the girl, and at tho way in which he hnd himself been beguiled ; feeling that Indeed the Lord had made women of, strange stuff, that tho old serpent should no be in them. The decision to which Tobiah came was that Priscilla- should go to spend Rome toilsome months at tho house of a worthy woman who lived some miles from the town. This not because ho was himself unequal to the task of bringing hor to reason, but because it were well to pub somo, distance between one xo wilful and the object of her' fancy. ALs,o because at tho house of Ihis good woman eho would be very constantly employed — a. pretty and "Wholesome way of reducing both tho spirit and the flesh. Having settled this affair in bis own mind, and having communicated tho samo to Priscilla with suitable reproofs, he ordered the' maid to bed. After that he secured her chamber door on tho outside (trusting to the LoW to protect her in the case of fire), and went oub to seek the good woman before mentioned. At that time this sister wns visiting relatives who lived by tho river. She would leave for her ojvn homo on the morrow, so there was no time to be lost. Accordingly, although the evening was now advanced, Tobiah set^ut at a- brisk pace for the house, where he arrived just before those wlthiu retired for tho night. Whether tho business took long asettling, or whether other matters,, questionn of doctrine nnd tho liko, came to bo discussed, one cannot say ; certain it is that tho hour wns very late when Tobinh left. Certain, also,- "that ho scarcely heeded whero he went ; perhaps he was wranb in thought, or perhaps in a state of holy exaltation — those with whom ho had conversed were powerful and eloquent professors of his creed. However that may be, he did not pny much heed to his steps; and, what with tho darkness and the state of his own mind, and tho unfamiliarlty of the way, it befell that ho stepped over the edgo into a ditch or hole near tho river. There were moro than one of such pitfalls hereabout*, some filled with mud, some water, some, both. The ono luto which Tobiah' fell had not more than a foot of water, but .three of mud ; and ' though there was littlo chance of drowning, there was none of getting out, and bub little moro of being pulled out before morning. This in itself would have had no terror for so stout a man as Tobiah ; he would have chanted psalms the whole night with a good heart. The thing which troubled him was that his rescuer (when he came) was certain to be of the scoffers, who would not only mock him, but also his* sect,, enquiring rudely an to the cause—spiritual or spi< rituoud— of the exaltation that had brought about his fall. Thinking on these things, Tobinh made the utmost efforts to get himself out. But it was useless; his fefet were held tight in the miry clay, himself faab in tho pit ; the bole, smnll but deep, had sides overstraight for climbing, and an' edgo over, high for reaching. There wns nothing to be done but wait with what patience h« might; therefore he waited, bub sir lently, listening in case by any chance he should hear some person of respectability pass within hail. It was while ho thus waited that a certain ntenoh wns blown to his nostrils. He snuffed tho air with his great nose, but at first oould not toll what ib waa ; then all at once ib was, borne in upon his mind that ib was the odour of raw hides. He wondered how it might bo, for all the riverside hereabouts wivs dark and quiet now ; while ho wondered there came the sound of steps. lie lifted himself all he oould, but still could nob sco over tho edge, so ho rained his voice and called with caution. The steps ceased; then one asked— • "Who calls?" "Ib is I," Tobiah answered > " I havo fallen 1 into a pit and am stuck fast. Find a - piece of rope and help nic, I pray you." The passer-by, thus adjured, fetched rope from some boat that lay nenr and came 16 tho edge. Bub before ho lenb his assistance he looked over to Reo who might be below, The'night wa» darkish, though not so dark but that Tobiah could se.o the fafl© which looked over at him. A very white face it was: working among tlio hides had taxed Michel'a stomach even more tluui the unusual

strain had taxed his arms. It was because of this thab Hiirnpson Shore, the supervisor, had sent him from the hold ti while, fearing lest he should grow too ill to continue till ,the end unless ho had Home breathing-Bpnce, Tobiah did not recognise tho young man ; hu wan not well enough acquainted with his face tit see who he was at «o unlikely a time and place. Michel, however, recognised him, nnd whon he cast tho rope the thought of Priscilla made the service sweet to him. Deftly, but with elTort, with admonitions from Tobiah and much pulling and hauling, the job wim done, At lust the Dissenter stood upon tho edgo onco more; phibtere.d with mud, and in unsavouriness second only to his rcsouer, but tmfo nnd sound. "Sir," suid Tobiah, "I thank you; by tho Lord's will you htvvo rendered me a service this night." " It is nothing," Michel answered, and mado as if to let such trifles pans. Tobiah looked nt him straightly. "It was by misadventure that I found myself engulfed," ho said j "the night was dark, tho way strange." "An accident that might happen to any," Miohel answered. Tobiah perceived thnt it was a young man of a proper nature, and was relieved. " If," ho said, " there is a small service I can do at any time, commnud me ; tho servant of the Lord is nob unmindful of favours received." Michel thanked him, saying there Was nothing he neode,d or indeed deserved, nnd they wnlked on together, For a little they wero silent, but at last Miohel made up his mind to speak. "I would like to tell you something of myself," he said; and Tobiah answered, "Why, certainly; tell what you like, young man j I will Ji»ten with patience, and give what counsel I may." They seated themselves on some piled timbers, and Michel began to tell of his affairs, bub awkwardly, being nervous, and missing many things which would have made the matter clear to Tobiah. lie did not say his name, for ho thought the Dissenter must know him ; and he did not say Priscilla's being shy at a> girl of speaking it aloud. Thus it came about thab Tpbinh heard bub a garbled tale. •* , " Ib seems,' naid the good man at last, "that your' father would havo you wed with one and you would wed with another? Your father's choice is doubtless tho wise one." "But," Michel protested, "my father has inndo no choice ; he oares not who the maid is, or what like,' so long as nho is well dowered, and not of tlio Dissenters/ "Is the maid of your- choico of the j Dissenters?" Tobiah asked. i Miohel nodded. ".She is-^-" ho began; and paused, finding it hard to speak of bo holy a thing. But whilo he stopped to choose his words to say what she wan, Tobiah broko in. "Marry her," he cried, slapping his hand down upon tho timbVra. " Mnrry her, I say, and tho blessing of tho Lord be upon it I I do nob altogether hold with thiß wooing and wedding and loving, and marrying that turn folks crazy, but thero aro times and seaaonn when it is comely enough, and I say, marry this maiden of the Dissenter*." Michel looked up in surprise. " Oh, sir," he said, '" how can 1 )thank you I" Ho did nob oven* then know tiiat ho had drawn Tobiah's opinion unfairly ; he believed truly that ho could now easily win the Dissenter's consent to the mutch, so he thanked him warmly. ' But! Tobiah partook of the nature of the good Samaritan, and was never willing tv leave unhelpcd any causa that ho deemed to need help, even though tho worldly and reprobate .might say that lie stirred in other men's poti. Accord* I ingly ho was not content to give advice .only ; ho said that he would himself help in thin affair, should his aid be required. Michel thunked him evon more warmly, and would no doubt have unfolded tho whole business to him if tho striking of I some distant clock hod not just then reached his cars and recalled him to work. '■ May I speak wjth you to-morrow ?" ho said, rising. " I must go to the ship now ; it is my father's will that I help to unload tho hides." He turned about as he spoke, as if to set forth in the opposite direction. Tobiah rose too. "Your father?" he said, and *omt» inkling of the truth began to come io ' Jsi» mind. " Who is your father!" "Aridcrman Ledbcttor," Michel said over his shoulder. ".You know him; he lives close to your house. I will come to-morrow, when work is done ; I can slip in unobserved." And with a- "good night " he hurried away. But Tobiah stood where he was. " Alderman Ledbetter," he said to himself — " Alderman Ledbotter !" And Again ; "Miohel Ledbetter-v-Michel and Priucillal" and it seemed that tho names were like buoketi of oold water poured upon him. - Truly the ways of the Lord are past finding out, and His dealings with somo of His servants wondrous strange at times. It wa« in this way that it came about thab another besides Alderman Ledbetter spent but nn ill night. The Dissenter did not swear as did the Alderman, but he wrestled mightily with himself and the Lord, sorely pujszled what to do, and also in his heart somewhat hob against Ledbetter. Verily Tobiah waa in a strnit place. Ho had counselled o, young mnn to wed the maid of his choice in despite of his father ; ho had even offered to lend his help, and behold, the maid was his own niece, whom ho had that night rofused t He could not tell what would be right to do : to refuse the maid, nnd so give occasion for the enemies of tho Lord to blaspheme— for Michel so enraged might spread foolish tales of the misadventure at the pit, and also he would certainly miataKo Tobiah's motives ; or to give the maid, and so p\it a stumbling-block in the way of some, for Prisoilla would then deem her deception justified and crowned with success. Also the Alderman would think that he had abased the servant of tho Lord, and that he was truckling to him and Mammon, should Tobiah go to him praying him to take tho girl for his son. The matter was one of difficulty, and Tobiah, when he reached his house, looked from a. window at the back towards the dwell- ' ing of the Alderman. " Oood Lord," no prayed, " deal Thou with tho man nnd his money-bag! i deal justly but forget nob aven his .minor offences." 'IV. HOW MICHEL LKDBKTTKR AND PUISCILLA WERE MARRIED. Tho wedding of Michel Ledbetler and Priscilla, the nieco of Tobluh the Dissenter, was in this manner : Early ono May morning t)io maid set forth from her uncle's house. She had not yet been bestowsd with tho good woman aforementioned ; Tobiah hud deemed it wiser to wait. Early that morning she wet forth in her cotton gown and weekday bonnet for a church that lay on the outskirts 'of tho town. Thither also went Michel Lodbotter in his work-a-day clothes. They met' boforo the church porch was reached, no that they went iv together, hand in hand like two children, who, half fearful und half glad, enter Himio holy place. Together they knelt ab tho altar steps, together listened to tho words the good I vicar read., and together Mb thuir names

to tho musty register, and f>o \s-ere made man and wife. Thus and tlnw only did euuh feel to bo safe from other wooing. .No no hliouUl know it, to they planned ; they muat wait for time to bring them tugether, but in this wedding they would poNsess tho sweet, Buro certainty of each other's lovo. So they thought n« they walked down the church together, stepping among tho fretted lightn and shadows that tho sun cast upon tho pavement; at tho doorway looking back at the tall pillars and the dusty windows and tho walls where hung tablets to dead folk who had lived and loved long ago. They paused and looked, then they turned to each other, and Michel kissed tho maid with the Veverence of lover, not the mastery of hubband ; and she, shy and trusting, yet wholly glad, yielded her lips to his. Afterwards,^ still hand in hnnd, they "stepped out into the spring sunshine, and the busy world that was | stirring to work. But outside tho church, as they came doini the Bteps, two suddenly approached them. From the right Bide of tho church came Alderman Ledbetter, little and shrivelled ; from the left Tobiahi tho Dissenter, gaunt and toll- In amazement the young couplo stopped, and tho two camo together on the step below. " Sir T" said tho Alderman. " Sir?" said Tobiah. "For what are you here!" asked the one. " For what you ?" asked the other. Then Michel cried, "Father!" and stretched out a hand to the Alderman, But Priscilla faced Tobiah, standing Btill. " You are too late," said she. " Not too late, but just in time," came a voico from behind ; and, looking about, stho saw tho parßoji in the doorway. "Your pardon, sirs," he said, "but since I too have had' a part in this matter, it were perhaps as well for me to speak. 'Tis a runaway match, it js true, bub since from each of you separately I had private news of consent, I thought neither would bo angered if the thing were done. Now that these two • are wedded,' according to your wishes, it scorns that you aro just in time to give your blessing;, to kiss tho bride and wish the groom joy." For a second no one moved, then .Tobiah stepped forward. "Sir," he said to tho Aldorman, " I ask your pardon ; I have been a fool and obstinate, blinded with pride." "Tut!" tho Alderman answered, "it was T.'J Then ho put his arm about Priscilla nnd kissed hor soundly. " Ileh, Saucing," ho said, " trust ft woman to. find" a way I" Tho while Tobinh observed to Michel, "I am glad that you had tho wisdom to follow my counsel t of a. surety it was good." Of this wedding, planned by the young couplo, but discovered and socretly assisted separately by their elders, not one concerned afterward* repented. Michel and Prisoilla loved each other truly and dearly to the end of their days. Tho Aldonnnn, perhaps, was a greater gainer than Tobiah, for ho took the pair to livo with him, and so really got hhnsolf n, daughter. But it was undoubtedly some gain to tho Dissenter to have tho maiden woll and happily disposed of, for it was oloar that he wu not In every way fitted to cope with one both fair and wilful ; moreover, he hnd over-many calls upon his time for a family man. » # » • • • Thus did Prisoilla go Maying, and thus did Tobiah the Dtosenter gain n. victory; over tho devil. For what greater dovil Is thero than pride, «nd what fjre^tor victory than tho mastery of a man's own weakness T ' —Una L. Silbenad, in tho New York Outlook. mmmm _ mmmmmmmmmmmmm