CHAPTER II. Of the Strange Manner in which a Tenant Game to Cloomber.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XVI, Issue 42, 8 February 1889, Page 25

CHAPTER 11. Of the Strange Manner in which a Tenant Game to Cloomber.

Bianksome might bare appeared a poor dwelling- place when ■compared to tue bouse of an English squire ; but to us, after our long residence in ttuffy apartmeuts, it was of regal magnificence. The building was broad -spread and low, with red-tiled roof, diamond-paned windows, and a pro! us. on of dining-rooms with smoke-blackened ceilings ani oaken wainscots. In fiont was a small lawn, girt round with a thin fringe of haggard and ill-grown beeches, all gnarled and withered from the blighting effects of the sea spray. Behind lay the scattered bam let of Braaksome-Bere — a dozen cottages at most — inhabited by rude fioher-folk who looked upon the Laird as their natural protector. To the west was the broad yellow beach and the Irish (tea ; while in all other directions the desolate moor 6, greyish green in the foreground and purple in the distance, stretched away in long low curves to the horizon. Very bleak and lonely it was upon this Wigtown coast. A man mightfwalk many a weary mile and never ace a living thing except the white heavy -flapping kittiwakes, which screamed and cried to each other with their shrill sad voices. Very lonely and very bleik I Once out of Bight of Branksome and there was no Bisn, of the works of man, save only where the high white towers of Cloomber Hall ••hot, like the beadstoae of some giant grave, from amid the firs and

larches which girt it round. This grtat house, a mile or more from our dwelling, had been built by a wealthy Glasgow merohant of strange tastes and lonely habits ; bat at the time of oar arrlcal it had been untenaoted for years, and stood with weather-blotched walls and vacant staring windows looking blankly out over the hillside. Empty and mildewed, it served only as a landmark to the fishermen, for thay bad fouod by experience that by keeping the Laird's chimney and the white tower of Oloomber in a line they could steer their way through the ugly reef which raises its jaggei back, like that of some sleeping monater, above the troubled waters of the wind-swept bay. To this wild spot it was that fate had brought my father, my sister, and myself. For us the lonelinesa had no terrors. After the hubbub and bustle of a great city, and the weary task of upholding appearances upon a slender income, there was a grand, soal-soothing serenity in the long sky-line and the eager air. Mere at least there was no neighbour 10 pry and chatter. The Laird had left his pbsaton and two ponies behind him, with the aid of which my father and I would go the round of the estate doing such light duties aa fall to an agent ; while our gentle Esther looked to our household needs, and brightened the dark old building. Such was our simple, uneventful existence until the summer night when an unlooked-for incident occurred which proved to ba the herald of those strange doiaga which I have taken up my pen to describe. It bad been my habit to pull out of an evening in the Laird s skiff and to catch a few whitiug which might serve for our sapper. On this well-remembered occasion my sister came with me, sitting with her book in the stern-sheeta of the boat, while I hung my lines over the bows. The suu had sunk down behind the rugged Irish coast, but a long bank of flush clouds siill marked the spot, and oast aglory upon the waters. The whole broad ocean was seamed and scarred with crimson streaks. I had risen in the boat, and was gazing round in delight at the broad panorama of shore and sea and sky, when my Bister plucked at my sleeve with a little sharp cry of suprise, " See, John," Bhe cried ; " there is a light in Cltomber Tower." I turned my head and started back at the tall white turret which peeped out above the belt of trees. As I gazed I distinctly saw at one of the windows the glint of a light, which suddenly vanished, and then Bhone out once more from another higher up. There it flickered for eocne time, and finally flashe 1 past two sucoessir* windows underneath before the trees obscured our view of it. It wm clear that some one bearing a lamp or a candle had climbed up the Uwer stairs and had then returned into the body of the the house. " Who in the world can it be ? " I exclaimed, speaking rather to myself than to Esther, for I could sac by the surprise upon her fac« that she had no solution to offer. " Maybe some of the folk from Branksome- Beie have wanted to look over the place. My sister shook her head. " There is not ona of them would dare to set foot within the avenue gates," she said. " Besides, John, the keys are kept by the house-agent at Wigtown. Were they ever so curious, none of our people could find their way in. When I reflected upon the massive door and ponderous shutters which guarded the lower story of Cloomber I could not but admit the force of my sister's objection. Tae uatimely visitor mast either have used considerable violence in order to foroa his way in, or he must have obtained possession of the keys. Piqued by the little mystery, I pulled for the beach, with ttie determination to see for m>self who the intruder might be, and what were bis intentions. Leaving my sister at Br^nkhome, and summuniog Seth Jamieson, an old man-o'-war's-man, and one of the stoutest of the fishermen, I set off across the moor with him through ihe gathering darkness. "It has na go* a quid name after dark, yon noose,' remarked my compauion, slackening his pace perceptibly as I explained to him the nature of our errand. '• It ano for naething that him wha owns it wunna gang within a Scotch mile o t. " Well, Seth, there is some cna who has no fears about going in'o it," said I, pointing to the great white building which flickered up in front of ua througa the gloom. The light vrbich I bad obseived from the Bea was moving backw*r U ani forwards past the lower floor windows, the shatters of waic^ hai been rem >ved. I could now see that a second fainter light i A\ovnd a few pacjs betnad the otaer. Evidently two individuals, the one with a lamp and the other with a candle or rushlight, were making a careful examination of the building, " Let ilka man blaw his am parritch," said Seth, Jamieson, doggedly, coming to a dead stop. " What 19 it taa nait a wraith or a bogle chooses tae tak' a fancy tae Cloomber ? It's no canny tae meddle wi' such things." " Why, man," I cried, " you don't suppose a wraith came here in a gig ! Wnat are those lights away yonder by the avenue gates V* "The lamps o1o 1 a gig sure enough?" exclaimei my companion in a lees lugubrious voice. "Let's steer for it, Maister West, and speer where she hails f rae." By this time night had closed in save for a single long, narrow slit in the westward. Stumbling across the moor together, we mad« our way into tbe Wigtown road, at the point wnere the high stone pillars mark the entrance to the Cloomber avenue. A tall dog-cart stood in front of the giteway, the horse browsing up^n the thin border of grasi which skirted the road. " It's a' richt 1" said Jamieaon, taking a close look at the deserted vehicle. " I.ken it weel. It belongs tae Maister McNeil, the faotor body frae Wigtown— him who keeps the keys " " Then we may as well have speech with him now that we are here," I answered. " They are coming down, if lam not mistaken." As 1 spoke, we heard the slam of the heavy door, and wittnn a few minutes two figures, the one tall and angular, the other short and thick, came towards ua througa the darkness. They were talking so earnestly that they did not observe us until they bad paused through the avenue gate. "Good evening, Mr. McNeil," said I, stepping forward and addressing the Wigtown factor, with whom I had some slight acquaintance. The smaller of the two turned his face towards me as I spoke, and showed me that I was not mistaken in his identity, but his taller companion sprang back and showed every sign of violent agitation;

A What it this, McNeil f " I heard him say, in a gasping, choking voice. "Is this your promise ? What is the meaning of it 7 " " Don't be alarmed, General ! Don't be alarmed t " said the little fat factor, in a soothing fashion, as one might speak to a frightened child. "This is young Mr. Fothergill West, of Brank■osae, though what brings him up here to-night is more thaa I can understand. However, as yoa are to be neighbours, I can't do better than take the opportunity to introduce you to each other. Mr. West, this is Genera) Heatharstone, who is about to take a lease of Cloomber Hall." I held out my hand to the tall man, who took it in a hesitating, halfoelactant fashion. " I came up," I explained, " because I saw your lights in the windows, and thought that something might be wrong. I am very glad I did so, since it has given me the chance of Baking the General's acquaintance." Whilst I was talkiog I was conscious that the new ttoant of Gloomber Hall was peering at me very closely through the darkness. Af I concluded he stretched out a long tremulous arm and tamed the gig«lantp la such a way as to throw a flood of light upoa my face. " Good God, McNeil t " he cried, in the same frightened Toiceas before, " the fellow's as brown as chocolate 1 He's not an Englishman. You're not an Englishman — you, sir ? "

" I'm a Scotchman, born and bred," said I, with an inclination to laugh, which was only checked by my new acquaintance's obvious terror.

" A Scotchman, eh 1 " he said with a sigh of relief. " It's all one nowaday!. Ton must excuse me, Mr. — Mr. West. I'm nervous, infernally nervous. Come along, McNeil ; we must be back in Wigtown in lest than an hour. Good night, gentlemen, good night I*' The two clambered into their places ; the factor cracked bis whip, and tke high dog*cart clattered away through the darkness, casting a brilliant tunnel of yellow light on either side of it, until the rumble of its wheels died away in tho distance.

" What do yoa think of our new neighbour, Jamieson ! " I asked after a long silence.

" 'Dsed, Mr. West, be seerae, as he says himself, to be vera nervous. Maybe his conscience is oot o' order."

" His liver, more likely," said I. "He looks as if he had tried his constitution a bit. But it's blowing chill, Seth, my lad, and it's time both of us were indoors." I bade my companion good night, and struck eff across the moors for tbe cheery rnddy light which marked the parlour windows of Branksome.

(To ie continued,)