'SARAH TULDON."

New Zealand Herald, Volume XL, Issue 12238, 6 April 1903, Page 3

'SARAH TULDON."

BY ORME AGNUS, j • Author of " Jan Oxber," " Love in Our Village," " Zike Mouldom," etc. CHAPTER Vl.—(Continued). The harassed lover, dismayed and frightened by Sally's inexorable demeanour, went off the next afternoon to lay his troubles before his. uncle. Uncle Abram made light of the matter for some time, but at last he was impressed by his nephew's pitiable mental condition. " You be a pore zort of man, I'd 'low, to mind she, a young maid; but there, we bain't all born alike. I zee you can't manage it yourself, zo you can gwo your ways hwome in peace. I'll ride over to-morrer or next day and talk to the maid. I warrant I won't be the one to be afraid." True to his promise, Uncle Abram rode over the next morning, determined to show the girl that he, at any rate, would " stand no nonsense." Sally, save for her latest sister, was alone in the house, and she opened the door to a peremptory knock. Instinct told her who it was. He looked her up and down with intimidatory eyes. " You be Sarah, I'd 'low, and I be David's uncle," he began in a tone of severity. "I" • Oh, be you," said Sally sweetly. " Good marnen to 'ee. Would you like to come inside and zet down?" "Itit bain't necessary," retorted Uncle Abram more severely. "I be come to zee 'ee about thease vullishness. You be a zmart maid, I can zee, but you be gwain too var, a goodish bit too var, let I tell 'ee, and if you don't mind you'll get nothen —nothen. He have been vullish enough to offer 'ee twenty guineas to pay vor his vullishness. Well, I'll put another vive to it meself, but not a penny mwore will you get. If you don't take it now I shall take ten off every day, so it you haven' come to your senses in dree days you'll get nothen. You haven' he to deal with now, look zee. What do 'ee zay? Quick, now." "I love en, do 'ee zee, and I be gwain to marry en," said Sally, with downcast eyes. Abram laughed. "Love a man his age and nothen spry about en! Don't be a vooil! Now, be you gwain to take it like a sensible maid?" "I'll take dear Davy," she said softly. "He bain't gwain to marry nobody else." And then she let him see something of her fiery spirit, "I'll hang for en if nothen else will do," she burst out. "and you tell en so. Good mornen. Looks like raiii, don't it?" and she gently but firmly closed the door on Uncle Abram, who, irritable and humiliated by his defeat, went to tell his nephew that he had been a fool to have anything to do with such a. vixen. " Ees, that be all very .well now," grumbled David, " but it was your doens I went after Mary. What is to be clone?" ' Uncle Abram intimated that ho felt inclined, having found his nephew so poorspirited, to wash his hands of the whole business, but he was only giving expression to irritation at his defeat, and a few minutes later he was discussing several schemes to defeat the girl. "I'll tell 'ee what I'll do," he said at last. " I be gwain into Darchester Zaturday, and I'll ask Lawyer Poole to come over to talk to she. He can vrighten she into behaven, I'd 'low."

Nothing was likely to be more efficacious was David's view; and so it befell that on Sunday eveningwhen the Tuldon family were more likely to be at —Mr. Poole rode over to try his hand on the contumacious maiden. Hs was a man of sixty, white-haired and white-bearded, his countenance severe and forbidding, his tone hard and staccato, as the yelps of a ter/rier. But, for those who could see, in the depths of his eyes humour lurked, and his friends said that he was not so flinty or so black as he appeared or would have one believe, that he did good by stealth, and acted and spoke as though he were ashamed of it. There was not, perhaps, a better-known man in Dorset at that period, and when Mrs. Tnldon, who knew him by sight, opened the door to his thunderous, aweinspiring' knock her face blanched and her knees shook. " Lord zave us!" she ejaculated involuntarily. "Is your daughter Sarah within?" he asked in his most dread tone. " Ees, ziT, she be," faltered Mrs. Tuldon. '.' I—l do hope" "Then I'll come in," he said, and did so without invitation. Mrs. Tuldon placed a chair for him and he sat down. Bill Tuldon was almost 'as agitated as his wife, and would have been glad to escape, but the lawyer commanded the door. The law was a terribly tricksy jade for poor folks to encounter; in fact, it seemed to the simple bucolic mind that it had a hatred for the lowly born, and delighted in playing wanton tricks upon them, even when their hands grasped the horns of Truth and Bight, and Sarah was greatly perturbed, though she did not let it be seen. " This is the girl, I suppose," he said, pointing a contemptuous finger at Sarah. " Now, my girl, I have come to see you on behalf of my client, Mr. Mockell, and I must tell you you are in a serious position. All depends on your behaviour." I am inclined to believe that Miss Sarah Tuldon had been dowered with one of the best gifts of Fortune —an instinctive genius for reading character. At any rate, after carefully observing Mr. Poole, her fright went, and she became cool and very determined.

Why?" she asked boldly. " You are trying to force him in a marriage with yourself, and your parents are aiding and abetting you. Let me seel think I could get you all at least six months in gaol for that." " We hain't, zur, we hain't—" began Mrs. Tuldon, but Sally silenced her with an imperious hand, and then laughed in the lawyer's face,, "If you be come to talk rubbish," she said, "you be wasten your time and mine." He was taken aback,, but he recovered himself in a moment. " And that is not all," he went on in still sterner tones. " You have threatened his life, and that is a most serious offence. You can bo transported for it." " Threatened his life!" exclaimed Sally. " Why, I be zo fond of en I be gwain to marry en. I threaten to many en and make en happy, if you do mean that." "Mr. Modioli does not wish to be hard on you, unless you prefer to be a fool; if you do, it is prison for you. I understand he has been so foolish as to offer you a big sum of money. I told him it was foolish, but he is too honourable to withdraw his offer. If you promise not to interfere with him I will pay you the money now ; if J don't-get the promise you will find yourself before the ■magistrates on this ■very grave charge. What do you say?"

" I zay you be wasten your time and mine. I threaten to many the pore man, the best thing I could do vor him, and which he don't deserve. If thease be all you have to zay I'll bid 'ee good night." Lawyer Poole rose. "Verywell," he said, '.'you will be sorry for this. When I get outside the door your last chance will he gone." Sally went to the door and held it open. " Good-bye," she said with .a laugh. He strode out majestically, and without another word mounted his horse and rode off.

"By Gad!" he said to himself, breaking into a hearty laugh when he was but of earshot, "what a girl! what a girl! And to throw herself away on that poor creature! I should have liked "to shake hands with her." No sooner had he gone than Mrs.. Tuldon began wailing. "What will become of we?" she cried. "What shall us do, vather?" " Lawyer Poole," retorted Sally, with very distinct 'articulation, "have done with you what he wanted— have vrightened 'ee. That be what he did come vor. He haven' vrightened I, look zee, and I promise 'ee you will hear more about it." • Sally had of course judged correctly, but Mrs. Tuldon could not believe it, and for many days after dreaded the ministers of

the Law waiting for her and her husband, who was as terrified as his wife. Lawver Poole had an interview with Uncle Abram the following Tuesday, and frankly owned his defeat. " The girl is very pretty and of considerable force of character," he said. " Could not this marriage between her and your nephew be arranged, Mr. Mocke.ll? I can assure you your" nephew would be very fortunate with" such a capable young woman for a wife."

Uncle Abram replied curtly that it was out of the question, and on his way home called at the Hill "Farm to confer with David. " Thik maid, look zee, hain't gwain to beat I. my bwoy," said Uncle Abram heatedly. " You ought never to have had a word to zay to she; a man of sense would have zeeu sue be a vixen at the virst look." "What is to be done now?" asked David, helplessly. "You leave it to I," said Uncle Abram, and finally it was decided that he had bettei acquaint his neighbour Pelliss with as much of the story as he thought desirable. It was not until he reached home that it struck him what a delicate mission it was, and he cursed his nephew heartily while he was preparing a plausible story. He represented to John Pelliss that a Delilah had forced herself upon his nephew and in some measure had ensnared him, but he enlarged on David's lack of experience where women were concerned. The truth was, he said, that the vixen would be sure to make a disturbance at the wedding unless some steps were taken.

Mary herself was called in and taken into confidence, and it was she who suggested away out of the difficulty. She had a cousin living in Bristol, why not he married there? It was the best solution possible, and Mary, as soon as possible, left for that city, where, after the prescribed residence, the banns would be published. It was arranged that David should leave his home secretly on the night of the tenth of January for Dorchester, and take the coach the next morning for Bristol. He became light-hearted as he saw an end to his difficulties, especially as the plan proposed enabled him to temporise with Sarah. (To be continued daily.)