THE SILENCE OF DEAN MAITLAND.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 5994, 1 August 1887, Page 1

THE SILENCE OF DEAN MAITLAND.

[By Maxwell Gray.]

VOL. I,

Chapter V.— (Continued.)

Before the stupefied Baines, who was accustomed to have his remarks received with reverence, could reply to this insult, public feeling was suddenly outraged by the following observation from the smoekfro&ed Bceptio, the want of wisdom in whom was accounted for by his having only recently pome to Melbourne from a village at least ten miles off that centre of intelligence : — "Bat what shall us do when Miss Lilian gets married P " " Married I » shouted the clerk. " And who £63 she's a-gwine to marry ? " "She mcd marry; then agen she medn't," replied this foolish, person, unabashed by the dark glances bent upon Mm. . "Miss Lilian," observed Granfer, who had been indulgently listening while he despatched his beer, and thus affording weaker wits the opportunity of exercising themselves during mB forbearance," ain't a-gwine to marry nobody j " and, thrusting his staff forwards and resting his two hands upon it, Granfer looked round the assembly with austere menace in his shrewd, grey eyes. Nobody dared reply to this, and silence prevailed, broken only by the sound of good liquor disappearing down men's throats, and a weak, half-audible murmur from the smock frock about girls being girls, whether gentle or simple. "I zes to my missus, vive year agone last Middlemas, zea I," continued Granfer, who ohanced to be the grandsixe of the indignant clerk, " ' Miss Lilian ain't one of yourmarryin'zart;"-* and again Granfer looked round the assembly, as if challenging them to deny the undeniable, and was met by an assenting murmur of " Ah's ! "

" Miss Lilian," pursued Granfer, with on air of inspiration, "ia turned your and twenty. Your and twenty year old come last May, ia they twins. Well I minds the night they was barncd. The last time as ever I druv a 'oss. A vrosty night, 'twas, and nipped all the archards miles round, and there warn't no vruit that year. Ah ! Varmer Long he'd a lost dree and dirty jrowes lambing-time that year. Well I minds it. I druvpony-phaise into Oldport, and vetched out t doctor. And I zes to my missus, I zes, when I come home, 'Master's got twins!' Ay, that's what I zed, zure enough. And my missus she zes, zes she : ' Lard love 'cc, Granfer/ she zes, 'you don't cay so!' she zes;" and again Granfer paused and looked round to perceive the effect of his eloquence. "Ay/ Baid the landlord, feeling that sourtesy now obliged him to entertain the Intellects as well as the bodies of his guests, "twins is zummat when it comes to that. Twins is bad enough for poor yolk, but when it comes to ladies and they, Lard 'a masßey \" " Ah !" murmured Granfer, shaking his Dead with profound wisdom, and at the same time regretfully contemplating the eaouum in his beer-pot, " them twins done for Mrs Maifcland. She ain't been the zame 'ooman zince. never zimmed to perk up agen arter that. Vine children they was, too, as ever you'd wish to zee, and brought ap on Varmer Long's Alderney cow, kep' special vor 'urn, as X used to vetch the milk marnin' and evenin'. I did, zure enough." Here Tom, the soldier, who, in virtue of hia red coat, was bound to be susceptible to feminine charms, opined that Miss Lilian was still "a smartish-looking gal;" and Jim, the sailor, added that ho didn't see why she shouldn't pick up some smart (ad yet, for his heart wa3 warm, and he could not bear to consign an unoffending nfl to the chills of single blessedness. There was Lieutenant Everard, of the Bellerophon, a frequent visitor at the Rectory, for example— as smart an officer as Jim had ever Been, he added.

"Ah, goo on \vi' ye !" cried Granfer, greatly refreshed by the polite replenishment of his pot at Tool's expense. " Miss Lilian's as pretty a maid as Tom'll zee in a Say's march. Bat ehe wua't marry nobody. Vur why ? zea I. Cause Bhe wun't ha'e the common zart, and the upper crust theyxTun't ha'e she."

" W'atever's come over Judkius now ?" isked Hale, the wheelwright, musingly. "He'd had a drop too much'a afternoon, tod he was a latherin' into Hotspur like mad coming down shoot.* He hadn't ought to treat a hoas like that."

"A. man mcd well drink," eaid the tailor, " afore trusting himself to a animal like that there. Steady as Charlie Judkina waa, poor chap ! What those 'ere rich men 'a got to answer for \" "1 never zeen a 'oss rampageouser," replied the smith; "but I never zeen » 'oss Miss Lilian couldn't quiet, or a ass either."

" Tour missus 'ull be sending for her one day," said Jim 5 and the whole assembly broke into a loud guffaw, after which Granfer very impressively related the history of the hunted fox, which appeared one day with his paws on the Window-sill of Lilian's sitting-room, followed by the pack in full cry, and the whole field at no great distance. He told how Lilian quickly opened the window, Reynard leapt in, and she as quickly shut it; and how the huntsman, on finding the hounds at check round the Rectory window, looked in, and was greatly shocked to see poor Reynard's pointed nose and glittering eyes peering out from among the skirts of a young lady Bitting^ quietly at work, and tranquilly surveying the baffled hounds baying outside.

Lilian refused to deliver up her fugitive, holding parley with the master of the hounds through the closed and latched window, until the latter had withdrawn his pack 5 and it was not until the premises had been cleared a good half-hour of every vestige of hound, horse, and man that she unbolted door or window, and suffered her weary, panting prisoner to depart, which he did with evident regret and thankful' neBS for hospitality— a hospitality poorly requited by him, since he managed to Bnatch a chick from the poultry-yard in effeoting his escape. But no one seemed to think there wa3 anything unusual in Lilian's power over living creatures; it was simply what one expected of Miss Lilian, just as one expected ohuroh bells to ring and cocks to crow. Nor had anyone thanked her for assisting so effectively ; at the shoeing of Hotspur. Then followed a long history of animals healed by Lilian, and in particular of a dog of Ingram Bwaynestone's, whioh the latter was going to Bhoot, when she begged its life, and nursed it into health. Also of the racers Ingram had at a trainer's, and the money he lost by them ; of the oaks and beeches at Swaynestone, which had to expiate these losses 1 and of the young fellow's probable descent to beggary through the paths of pleasure. " He'a a vine young veller," observed Granfer, at the close of his second pot; " a wild 'un, zurely. His vather was a wild *un, too; 'tis the blood and the high reeding. So was hia grandfather. I minds things as Sir Lionel did would make 'cc all stare. Men is jußt the same as 'oases— veed 'em up, and they ylinga. The well-bred 'una is vive times skittisher than t'other. Wuld Sir Lionel, he was the wildest of all— dvuv hia stags into Oldport voor-in-hand, he did, and Killed dree or

your yolks in the streets. Ah ! times isn't what they was," sighed Granfer, regretfully draining his pot. By this time it was dark night. The Sun windows threw a warm glow over the road; the stars sparkled keenly above the thatched roof of the little hostel ; and the' smell of wood-smoke, mingled with the appetising odour of fried pork, red hervings, and onion soup, rising all over the village, warned the topers that the hour of supper waa approaching, and they would have dispersed, however unwillingly, but for the obimes of waggon-bells along the road, whieJi beguiled them into waiting while Williavn Grove deposited his parcels at the Sun, took the one gland offered by the host, and recounted the news from Oldport.

(Tlds Story will be continued in our issue of

Saturday next.)