CHAPTER XII.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XIII, Issue 10, 26 June 1885, Page 3

CHAPTER XII.

THE PBDDr.BR AT TOBEBEEVIL. mon ~wl . if tb f 5e55 e 5 knuckles together to keep down ber amazeT^E«l™J Bhe glutted her eyes upon the beauties of this bargain. ft!fr f y -, a ? ay 81 ° ce , 6he bad dreamed of such a gown as that • t#i *? ' ? A e fi memorieß of past fairs and dances, and i^^s^xsr*"* got up and jostled each «& " Yell make it twopence J" said the wily Tibbie.

" Fourpence, ye said I" " Fippence," said the peddler. •' Oh, musha, musha, but ye're miserly an' hard 1 An' 'twas fonrpence ye tould me at the first " t«m?-! 6ay * aat 2 Cr W i )rd< TUT U make [t Bfcpence," said the peddler. - • t Tlbb il & roaned ; , an( i rocked ben-elf, with her eyes upon the cnintz The material before ber was worth eighteen See a yard Tibbie knew it we j. Itwasstiong and soft, and warn and sUkyprinted in good colours, and of the most brilliant design. Why the " W0Ul « DOt giVe her a calico at the P™ I But to part with so ncany fivepraces cut Tibbie to the hfart ; and the thought of walking about Tobereevi], amidst the cobwebs and mildew ■dressed out id all this finery, was like to make her crazy beS horror and delight. And io the meantime, while she deliberated the cove ed stuff r e t reated yard after yard , nto ddlt e r^ r a^ d ' ing his bunile Q aBOOd e7e * iQ tOye «" 6aid the P eddler ' *»*&• "Stop! stop!" shrieked Tibbie, and she huddled herself away wrofiß the kitchen. She.aeM^.the^ker, bo that the peddler &mg&

.at nrst that she was going to lay it about his head ; but she only poked it up the chimney, bringing down a shower of soot, and a grimy little bag which chinked as it fell among the ashes, • Wan, two, three, four !" said Tiddie, counting out the money. " Oh 1 nay curse on you for a villain, would ye take it from me?" The peddler put the money in his pocket, Tibbie glaring at him jstrangely the while, as if she had given him poison, and he had swallowed it. The peddler cut off the cloth, folded it neatly, and placed it in a roll in Tibbie's arms, where she gripped it, and pinched it, so that, had it been a living thing, it certainly would have been strangled.

"Now, thin!" said the peddler, "would you be lettis' the master know that I am here 7" " The masther ?" M Misther Finieton hissel'.' 11 Ah. thin, young man, ye come a long piece out 6' yer way to get) yer head broke." " Anan ?" said the peddler. 11 Wid the poker, or tho hind leg o* a chair," went on Tibbie, " There's no luck in axin' for a right o' Simon's money." " But I want to show him mine," said the peddler, " Is it laughin' at him ye are?" " Sorra laugh in the matter. If so be he has aoytbin' to Bellold coats, or gownds, or curtains, or jewelry, why it's mesel' will give the best price for the goods." • ■ . " Sit down, thin, good man, an' wait a bit ; for that's a quare different tune ye're whistlin' now. He's out gleanin'; but he'll be in for his dinner bv'n bye." 11 ' Gleanin' ?" asked the peddler. " Pickin' what he can get," returned Tibbie. " Hticks for the fire, an' odd praties an' turnips out o' the rigs." The peddler stared. "It amuses the ould soul, I suppose," he /aid. " Oh, aye I" said Tibbie, with a whine, " an' helps to keep the roof over his bead, the crature 1" There was silence upon this, daring which the black-beetles came a journey across the kitchen fl-igs, and walked playfully <>ver the peddler's boots, while Tibbie went on with her cooking, maki ig the woodcock spin giddily f rota its string as she basted it before the fire. She was considering whether the peddler would buy rags and bones which she had been storing in tie cellar for the pa&t ten y. are. By and by a sound was heard from aoove, and Tibbie left off torturing the woodcock, and placed him on a dish. A slice of bread and a glass of water were added on a tray, and then the miser's dinner was carried up stairs.

"Ye may wait, my man," said Tibbie, coming back ; and, when, the tray bad come down again, she ushered the peddler into the presence Of her master. He was sitting, all alive with expectation, in the dreary state of his dilap dated dining-room, a little leaner, more wrinkled, more surly and fretful- loking than on the day wben he scared Miss Martha out of bis presence. In the corner of the room lay a small heap of the spoils which he had gleaned off the country since the morning. "Take them away, Tibbie, take them away," he said, waving his hand toward the meagre pile, " and be careful about picking up the straws. They have cost me a hard day 's work, good woman ; and see that jou do not lose the fruits of your master's toil. ;Youperceive, young maD, we will have no waste here ; and lam glad to learn that you are one of those who count nothing too old or decayed to be of use. Inm told that you are anxious to do a little business with me, and, that being so, we will proceed up stairs. The miser's pose was long, thin, and almost transparent, and as he spoke, he sat sharpening the end of it — as it seenud to the lookeron—with a many-coloured rag, which had once been a pocket-hand-kerchief.

The peddler stood, hat in hand, a little in. the shadow thrown by the strong red sunset and the heavy oaken framework of the wiudow. His attitude was respectful, but there was a strange look of loathing mixed with fear in his eyes, which now fixed themselves, as if fascinated, on the face of the miser, and now roved about the room.

" You will see a great house," said the miser, while he shuffled across the hall, looking nervously over his shoulder, as the keys jingled in his hand — " a dilapidated house, which the owner has no means of repairing. What it costs me, young man, to keep the holes in the windows stopped, so as to shut out the wind, and prevent the roof flying off oa a stormy night — why, it makes me what I am," he said, flapping his patched garments ostentatiously. 'It makeß me what I am." " The first Finiston of Tobereevil, the man who had brought the blight upon his race, bad had in his princely days a grand idea about the planning of a dwelling. The staircase was wide enough for eight men to ascend its black steps abreast. Inky faces of demons aud satyrs grinned from among vine leaves in the carvings of the balustrades. Black marble nymphs twined their arms and their hair round pillars on the landing, and lost themselves amid foliage and shadows. Formerly, all the sinister effect of this blackness had been carritd of by the ruddy velvet hangings which had glowed between the arches and the deebly-etaineri windows, which had loaded every ray of sunlight with a special flu*>h of colour. Flora and Bacchus bad crowned themselves in the splendours of the illuminated glass, making the inner air warm with the reflection of their frolics. Their wreaihed attendants had chased each other laughingly under the lower arch' s of the side-lights. Now Flora's azure lobe still fluttered against the sun, and ber feet still twinkled among clouds and roses, but ber fair round throat had become a spike of ragged glass, and the sky looked in rudely where her face bad used to binile. Bacchus had had his lower limbs completely shivered away, and seemed to soar out of an intrusive bush of ivy. As the miser crept feel I. up the staircase the scarlet midsummer sunset had assaulted all the colours in the wiudow, flinging fiie to right; and left, and streaming triumphantly through the rents in the glass. The bjacknymphs were all burning as they clung round their pillars, each like an Indian, widow\npon her pyre.

From left and right of this landing another staircase led, one to' each wing of the house. Simon turned to the left, and brought the peddler along galleries and down passages, and up more stairs, till he reached a low-roofed lobby, where tall black presses were stationed like goblins in the mouldy twilight. To the locks of these he fitted one after another of his rusty keys, seeking for valuables which the peddler was to buy of him. And meantime the peddler had leisure to observe how the roof was broken in above the spot where they stood, and how the walls and the ceiling, and the presses and the floor, were all stained with rain marks, as if the rain had poured in there many winters through.

" You perceive that we have got an enemy here," said the miser, with a dreary laugh. " But it will be a long time yet before he makes his way down to the lower rooms. We have damp down stairs, plenty of damp ; but never a pouring stream like this. It will snit me well to get rid of this property before next winter comes round."

The property was dragged out, and proved to be some faded garments, stained with rain, and eaten up with mildew. They were shrunk and discoloured, past all recognition of shape or hue. The mice bad dined off them at many a pinch, and the moths had made pasture of them for years. That one fine lady of Tobereevil, while sweeping her satin skirts down the sumptuous staircase below, and counting herself the first of a race of queens, had little thought that her faded finery would be thus preserved in the family, and bargained over by her descendants, after she and her expectations had long melted' into the churchyard mould. Yet there it lay, exposed in its ghastly uncleanness ; and yet this peddler was to purchase it, and take it forth into the world. The peddler stood in a recess between two oE the presses, and close to his head there was a tiny window. Through this loophole he could see far over the country. He could see a large portion of the estate of Tobereevil, a few hovels, a few sickly wreaths of smoke, vast rich tracts of uncultivated' land, melancholy moors, and the strong, brilliant woods. The whole was a picture of neglected land, rich in beauty and glowing with promise, but with the shadow of the curse distinct upon its face, amidst all its splendours of the midsummer sunset. The peddler gazed long, as if he had forgotten his bargain, and that lively sauciness which was his business expression did not find its way through the bitterness on his face.

"You will understand that I expect a good price for these articles," said the miser's voice, recalling him to business. " They are rich and fine, and of most costly materials. They will bear cleaning, dyeing, remodelling, patching — ah ! there is no end to the benefits which the owner will find in them."

The peddler tnrned around, and saw the figure of the old man bending and moving as he shook out, straightened, folded, and flaunted his gaudy and unseemly rags, and turning from the dreaiy landscape, and meeting this more dismal and ludicrous picture, a look of horror and disgust burned gradually in the peddler's gaze.

" Name your price, and don't keep me in suspense," said the miser, irritably, and suddenly raised his greedy eyes, and peered into the peddler's face. Then, as if he could hear no more, and with a glance of terror, the peddler raised both his arms hurriedly, but with nothing violent in the touch ; turned from him without a word, and fled along the lobby, past the goblin presses, and down the stairc?se, and to left and to right, mistaking his way, and finding it again, escaping at last out of the door, and away into the Woods of Tobereevil.

" Stop thief, stop thief 1 " shrieked Simon, pattering after him a little way ; then coming back to see that nothing had been taken, and then following again with his cry, " Stop thi — ef 1 " and Tibbie at last caught the sound in her dungeon underground, and came running and stumbling up stairs ; but when the two old creatures met, panting and vociferating in the hall, they were obliged to declare to each other that the peddler had vanished, and that he was the devil, a gypsy, or a thief, at least. Yet, after this, they found his pack lying untouched in the dining-room, together with the money which Tibbie had paid him for her dress ; and in wrangling over the contents of the bundle, they had ample occupation for the rest of the evening.

(To be continued )