THE AUCKLAND EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, MAY 21, 1887.

(SUPPLEMENT

MORNA DALE; OR The Guardian's Forgery.

Br gYLVANUS COBB, Jr. AT BAY. . J r ange the old' butler got lunch 4 f * c £ waited for his mistress. He pltiently until noon; then he to ira* i nl P atiellt ' and when ther M™ that an llour liad P asse<i ** j &« nnpointed time, he called to Latham, the groom, and asked him ""to" the Abbey and see what was "' ».r If his lady was eating lunch I^oughfc.toknowit. rt qui° k 'y sailed an( * bridled a j ere many minutes he was at the : He went directly to the main and there rang the bell. A jLswered, of whom lie inquired for : jj ra!V) de3ining her now, as heiress Ijj representative of the titled family, the honour he gave her. dirty-faced menial knew jjj-rabout any Lady Morna, nor any I Sy. He finally said that he saw her : jj company with his master, several fiß before, but he had not seen her

jjfcV '|U George demanded to see the master. Ups becoming alarmed. There was -' l Jm<'in the whole thing—in the way fete lady hfid been spirited away, and in : Loping of her from home and friends JflUooked dark and strange to him. a man one-third heavier than Jem and not more than three or four Sder-ahswered insultingly. «filere is y*r master ?" demanded he jk Grange. -• . "It's none o your business, retorted the jjd of the Abbey. , , , , Hen he of the Grange knocked the burly jjterdown, and strode in over his pro- State body, meeting in the hall Jonas (jjndal himself, whom the disturbance to the spot. "Wiatisit, my man? Eh! You are fe Dale's coachman, are you not ?" "Yes, sir," with a slight, cool bow. e ,W I've come to find my young mistress.''' "Youryouiig , mistress is safe and well, feige, and will for the present remain jitiiae." "Hallo! What's in the wind now? X are you doing down there, you ijffll!" This was the voice of a new mer on tie scene—Tom Crondal —who bdedinein from outside, having seen the Iβ from the Gcange ride up and dis "mt-iiad come in just in season to find & poor porter picking himself up from the pent. - He unfortunate menial told how cruelly frag Latham had treated him. tasaw through the matter at a glance. Iwe the man a kick, and sent him about Vwiness, and then came onto where LHtier stood with the groom of the

nlave just told him that Miss Dale is id. safe," the father explained to his V'.jmi thai she will for the present re-

"I'd liketoask you, sir, if this is of the My'som free will and accord ?" Tom haii started to speak, but the old unstopped Mm. Then turning to young Latham, he said: "I may as well give you the simple facts in the case, and you can make them known you please. Before Doctor Me went a\yay he appointed me his fetter's guardian." And he went on to spin the nature of the appointment, the datacte of the written deed, together with i'Aseitent of the power and authority thus rated in him. In the end he said : "

'"So, for a.itime, my ward will remain tufa my care. . You can tell your people Ibt she is perfectly contented ; that she tinoffledges; my ■ authority ; and that KtHag ™ be left undone which can be ke for her comfort and well-being... . "Caal'seeher^sir?" lad." "I have been her groom and driver

"Lookye,'my friend," interrupted Tom,. ifii 4 smile on His wicked face that struck 'W chill to the young fellow's heart, ■' if JMtooV when you're well off, you'll take ■ragOTernbr's word, and—go !" fege had, discretion. He. had seen (tragi to give him an understanding of the j*ation,,andffhathe did not understand meant to.'understand before he left. Jmatawordmore, and hiding his feel- well as he could, he turned away «thehall,going out through the yes *™ into the, court. In a far corner, near was a fountain and a drinking W for animals, and thither he led his «*»y the bridle. t , . hoped, he discovered in one of & 1,. 'Srooni with whom ho was inti- Dexter his name was—a youth Mnd-twenty; with an honest, kindly $ mmself and his father before him; *S been bora and reared on the Abbey JH } havei'aquestion to ask," said $, 'in a whisper. "Has Lawyer *aore, of Wallingham, been here to- anybody ' that looked like you" know that Morna Dale was P the Abbey-shut up, I think, b ! know, George. I heard of it. f mt speak of it here. We don't knOw :■ : . v .W one word, Phil. If the chance is T/Wlyou stand her friend V' & j~w:will I,- with-all my heart! tVi nUr ?6 my poor mother through a all her expenses the yL ■ Weßß her ! I won 't fail her if CT e Wbleitome." .- ' C« - $* io have tl,iends among "sj^ said George, earnestly. isiL 'Phil-and tell 'em how V W'TJ} 1, Bub d°n't stop any fift&™ [T^- be spotted and reported." i more ' bufc with an abor ' a careless whistle he re- Vtfcvn hor seand rode away—rode IT 1 at a pace that called all the Wv^tJ , * 1 * 11 °n the way to their WB, \ktiS ffa ? «°F told at the Grange. l^erlfW 1011 ' from Eobert Dabney. r*T in-*„■ cn >- was to proceed to the. the lady away. Geo/ge him- M ; 0a o tli e fPSnded the first heat of his S'Cetr 11 '* 110^11 tne youngest n 7,' was one of fche coolest; ffsincf tn he ; tad his way, the others e ffi aUl quiet until h refcurii  -5 afi"oS h ? rse ' and -the swiftest the caparisoned it V 1 "wlinghain.

Dr. Laybrook listened bo tho groom's story in dumb amazement. Not a word escaped him until George had taken leave of Phil De cfcer at the Abbey, and of the household at the Grange ; and when the narrative had beon brought to a conclusion he had not a question to ask of what had passed. Without informing his wife of what had happened, the old doctor put on his warm overcoat and fur cap, and went with the groom to call on Mr Blackmore. They found the lawyer in hia office—he occupied the same rooms so long tho headquarters of Mortimer Rivers—and found him at liberty. He was a man of middle-age-say, about forty ; a large, portly man, kindly and be nevolent, prompt and determined in his calling, cool and thoughtful, and ever ready to take up the cause of the poor and op pressed if they had right on their side. Mr Blackmore smiled when his name first appeared in the groom's story; but it changed to an ominous frown as he went on. He listened to the end without once interrupting. George had told the story once ; so he gave it now without an un necessary word, and yet without omitting an item of importance. In the end the lawyer turned to Dr. Laybrook, and asked him if he thought it possible that Mr Crandal could be in possession of any deed of guardianship. The doctors answer was quick and emphatic. He knew —or, at least, lie was morally certain—that there was no such thing in existence. " You are aware, I presume," the lawyer proceeded, "that Doctor Dale left Jonas Crandal in entire and absolute control of his estate and his business ?"

Yes, the doctor knew that, but he had left his child her own mistress.

Blackmore bent his head and thought. " I can hardly understand," he said, half to himself, as though thinking aloud, " how the man would dare commit such an out rage, in the midst of a civilised community, and where the girl is surrounded by friends of standing and influences if he had not behind the act something tangible to back him up. But," he added, starting up and speaking with spirit and determination, "we will soon know. Doctor, I will fill out a warrant, in my capacity as Justice, calling for the delivery of the body of the girl, or for the showing of good and sufficient cause for her retention. Meanwhile you will go and find Superintendent Morley and bring him here. I would rather take him along to serve the writ than any other officer I know." ■.''!•

" You will go with us ?" " Certainly I will. Seeing the rascal took the liberty of using my name as a decoy to the poor child, I feel that I ought to go." It was finally arranged that George Latham should go for the officer, and tell him his story on the way. The walking was none of the best, and Laybrook was not

young. In less than half an hour Morley' was in the attorney's office, having been thoroughly posted by the messenger. He was calm and quiet outwardly, but those who knew him intimately could have told that there was fire within. "Oh," he was saying to him self, "if I could but legally lay my hand upon that man. If both he and his son were not engaged in the'carrying off of Ralph Ashmore I am a fool !" He looked over the paper which the lawyer had prepared, and said it would answer. Hβ would have preferred an order for the taking of the body of the man him self ; but he did not say so.

They were, provided with a coach and four horses, from the stable of Dr Laybrook, aud were soon ready for the start. .Their party—four of them - was a fit complement for the inside of the coach, without crowd ing;-, but Moriey took a fancy for taking along one of his best inspectors, who rode on the box with the driver.

Arrived at the Abbey, they were ushered into the principal drawing-room by the self same porter whom Latham had knocked down only a few hours before. It was now late in the day into the night; for darkness had fallen while they had been on the way, but that would not prevent their making judicial investigation. The law had the right to arrest a criminal, or to set free a person cruelly and wrongfully held in durance by a private party, at any hour of day or night. Outside, when Jonas Crandal had learned who had come, he spruced himself up, and pnt on his most benignant look, at the same time obtaining from his son a, promise that he would not show himself ; for Tom had been, at first, bent upon_ facing the sharks, as he pleasantly designated the whole family of lawyers and policemen, and " having it out with tkem." But he finally gave the promise his father required.

" Gentlemen, I bid you a good evening, and a kindly welcome," said the host, in his blandest tones and manner, as he entered the room where his visitors sat. They afo3e, and returned the" salutation ; then he waved, them back to their seats, with the dignity of a royal master, after which he seated himself. : ■ • " And now if I may ask," with a. smile that exasperated the good old- doctor and George Latham, .but which caused the hearts of the lawyer and the officer to sink, —"to what do I owe the honour of this It had been arranged that Morley should open the case. "MrCrandaV'.hesaidin his usual cool and easy manner, " I have been empowered, by a leo-al warrant, formally sworn out and issued, to demand of you the person of a child held by you in durance ; or that you show good and sufficient cause, for continu ing the forcible restraints." . ?t You allude, 1 presume, to the daughter of the late Doctor, or, rather, Sir Lawrence Dale!" \. _----"■" "-■'■- ■••>." 'hr.-yr. " Yes, sir/"""" . ■ : , . „■*,■,. "Mr Morley,-and you, gentlemen, —to the others,—bis blandness and equanimity unshaken,-" If: you will give me your at-, tention for a single moment, I will satisfy you. Of course,"-witb a wonderful smile, —"I use the'term moment as. a legal fiction. You will understand, Mr Black ra The lawyer J nodded,' and. the'host pro ceeded, speaking to him :. , . .' ' " My dear sir, you are a ; lawyer. To you I will put the question.. Suppose the late Dr Dale—he was simply that at the.jzime to which I refer -had appointed me legal guar dian of his infant - child-that lie had given me full and entire authority as such, over i his own signature-if youhad known such to be the fact -would you have. wasted your time in coming upon this mission,-for l suppose you have all come on the same business?" ■ t . •. t "Before answering your question, sn, i should wish a more explicit explanation o the nature of the deed of which you SP "Youshall have it, sir. You shall see for yourself—you, and your companions— the Authority by which I act.'? ■ He arose and left the room. He probably had the paper at that moment m his pocket; but he pretended to bring it from *he; library. When he returned he held m his hand a folded paper, which he opened, and gave to the attorney without a word,-gave it into his hand, and resumed his seat. Blaekmore's heart sank, as his face cleaily showed, when his eye fell upon that written pao-e The signature of Mortimer Rivers kelnewbut top well for the that upon the deed before him. So, too, was he familiar, with the signature of

Lawrence Dale. And the hand of Darnley N erter he would . have recognised at a glance at the antipodes. Then he read the instrument—read it critically; studying every expression, and concluded with S deeply-drawn sigh of pain and disappoint ment. He handed the paper to Dr Lav brook, looking first to the owner for permission, which was given by a nod. " I fear, Doctor," he said, as he passed it over, " that we must return bootless " May I look over with;you?" "asked Money.

Permission was given; the light was ample ; and the writing of the old clerk was plain as print. So they read it together - the doctor and the officer,—and finished the reading ut the same instant of time. Lay brook gave one more searching glance at the signature of his old friend and confriar, and then handed it back to the attorney, sayinty, as he did solemnly and resolutely : " I shall contest that to the fullest extent of the law !"

" My dear man," said Crandal, in seeming honest surprise, " do you doubt either one of those signatures ? If you do, you could not have known their authors as I did. I am euro Mr Blackmore will tell you the deed cannot be shaken."

"I don't care. I will contest it to the bitter end. If Lawrence Dale set his name upon that paper, with the full knowledge of what was to appear in connection with it, ho was either insane or most wickedly out raged and imposed upon. The case shall come before the highest tribunal I can find. Let me look at that paper once more." He caught it from the lawyer's hand before the owner could interfere.

" Aha !" he exclaimed excitedly, pointing with his finger as he spoke. " Look at that ! Tho name of Lawrence Dale is in different ink from all the rest. Do you see ? Entirely different. By tho heavens above me ! I'd take my oath that name was written with the doctor's own ink, from his own stand, in his own library at the Grange !" They looked, and saw it was as he had said. Dale's namo was written in a pale, greenish fluid, while all the rest appeared in such intense jet-black record ink as lawyers love to use. Crandal maintained himself wonderfully. He explained the matter by telling how Werter and the old attorney had used ink from a stand on the desk of the clerk ineide the rail, while Dr. Dale had written outside, and used ink from a stand set apart for clients. However, Laybrook and his friends made a note of the circumstance.

" Mr Crandal, will you permit me to see Miss Dale for a few moments ?" Tho doctor arose as he asked the privilege, appearing to believe he would not be re fused. The guardian returned him a look of blank astonishment, seeming at first too greatly surprised for speech ; but finally he found his tongue. "Doctor Laybrook ! I am astonished at you ! Think of it: After so long a time I have resolved, for the girl's good, that my authority as guardian shall be put into, force. Naturally, she was, in the outset disappointed. She is beginning, however' to understand the necessities of tho situa tion. She recognises, and freely nek now ledges, her father's hand on that instrument', and she will very soon be entirely satisfied { especially so when she sees that I will do al for real good that lies in my power. Sup pose, now, you should see her this ovoning. I know tho scene that. would result. I know that you would not hold your tongue from denouncing mo and my act. I see it in your face, sir. No ; I will not let you, nor any of you, see her to-night. A day or two hence, if you will come, you shall confer with her ; but in my presenco. That is, I shall claim that right, though I may waive it if I see cause."

After this the visitors conforred apart for a little while, the old doctor being urgent that something should be done ; but both Blackmore and Morley wore decidedly of the opinion that they could do nothing under their present authority. Said tho lawyer:.-... " You may obtain an order from the High Court of Justice for our county calling upon the man to answer your charge. That will prevent him from spiriting the girl away before the next assizes." "Must we wait for that?" asked Lay brook, nervously. Blackmore explained further, and the old doctor at length understood ; but he was resolved, nevertheless, that if by any means he could get the dear girl once more be neath his roof, not all the of all the world should take her from him ; and he said something of this to his friends, and, unfortunately, in his harrrowing excite ment, he spoke so loudly that Jonas Cran dal overheard him. " Mr Crandal,". , said Blackmore, in the end, as the party were ready to depart "we are forced, for the present, to recog nise your authority as guardian of Morna Dale;" but you. will understand, and take notice, I warn you that you will be cited to appear, with.. your- ward, -before the Superior Court at the next afesizes, and answer to the objection then and there to be brought against your claim. You will remove the body of the child from this judicial district at your peril." _;. • But little' more was said, and, finally, with a smile that drove poor Laybrook almost frantic, so blandly, and so ; coolly significant was it, Morna's guardian bowed the visitors from, his presence. Then,he followed to the outer door of the vestibule, and watched - them while they entered their coach and were driven away. .-.;

"Tom! , - , he said, in a voice scarcely raised above a whisper, at the same time cast in o- a furtive glance around—lie had his 8011 in°the main" hall immediately on his return from the vestibule—" Tom !Is the lugger at her old berth?" . „ " Yes. Downer was here this morning. ■ "Then see': We must take this gvri across the Channel before morning;. She is mine now, to dispose of -her as I please, m spite of all the warnings of all the lawyera in the world. Will you mount a swift horse and ride Wthe cove, and have tho lugger ready? You'll be back shortly after mid night; and before the break of another day we'll have the girl safely on board, , ' and on her way to France. 0, do not fail. "Let me alone for "that '• In-faith, old man, I've taken a wonderful fanoy .for that little beauty. I'll not lose her now, if 1 can help it, I shall go over the Channel with her?"

"Of course.". , , .■ «■ ■•■ • - " Good ! Look but' for me by half an hour after midnight, sure." ; _ , Father and son separated with this, and ere lone thereafter, when they had got safely out of the way, Philip Dexter, the young ■ groom of the Abbey stables, crept out from a deep arch under the great stair case, and sped swiftly away.,; ;;, ■;• (To be Continued)- ',',' ■.'...

An Illiterate Nobleman.—Lord William Pawlett, though often Chairman of Com mittees of the House of Commons, was a oreat dunce, and could scarcely read. Having to ' read a bill for naturalising Jemima, Duchess of Kent, he called her "Jeremiah, Duchess of Kent." A gentle man writing to desire a fine horse be had, oflfered him any equivalent. Lord William replied that the horse was at his semce ; but he did not know what to do with the elephant. ' " . • i,■ .. ■-• '■*■ •

THE MYSTERY OF HADDON'S FERRY.

Bt E. D.E.N Soutiiworth,

CHAPTER I.

haddon's vebry.

A travhllek to the mountains bound, Cries, " Boatman ! do not tarry ! And I'll give thee a silver pound Tβ row mo o'er the ferry 1"

Tho boat has left a stormy land, Tho stormy " Wildo " before her, When oh ! too strong for human hand, The tempest gathers o'er her.

But still ns wilder blew the wind, And as the night grew drearer, Ariown tho glen rode armed men, Their trampling sounded nearer. Campbell. It was a dark, sultry night in midsummer

A thunder-storm was slowly gathering over tho most gloomy, savage and terrific pass in the Alleghanies.

• It was where the Hurry and the Whirl,two impetuous mountain terrents that, rising far apart from each other among inacces sible rocks many miles away, and gather ing volume and force from' the tributary waters of innumerable streams, as they rush onward and downward, tumbling from eteop to steep, and drawing nearer to gether, at length unite and form the mag nificent Wilde River, which, rending its way through the stupendous precipices, opens the awful gorge known as " Haddon's Ferry."

Leaving this gorge, the "Wilde flows calmly on, a beautiful, majestic river, bounded on the west by a mighty range of mountains, whose grey rocks rise nearly perpendicularly from the water's edge ; and on the oast by a rich, beautiful, undulating, well-wooded and well-watered country, and so downward towards the plains and on ward to the sea.

The country all round Haddon's Ferry was divided into large plantations, owned by wealthy proprietors whoso land patents dated back to tho time of the first settle ment of the county in tho reign of his Most Sacred Majesty, James the First, and whose fertile acres were cultivated by large bands of negro slaves. Haddon's Forry proper had been in the possession of the Haddon family from a time beyond which the history and traditions of the neighbourhood went not. Tho ferry-house, nearly two centuries old, was a substantial cottage built of grey rocks under tho shadow of the awful precipice ; its back-yard ran from the rear of tho house to the foot of the mountain ; its garden from the front of the house down to tlie banke of the river.

On tho gravelly beach beneath were built two very strong boat-houses —tho one on the right as you faced the river was the recep tacle for the great Hat-boat used to carry carriages,horses and cattle across the water ; and the other for the small row-boats and ' sail-boats kept for the accomodation of •■ passengers. Half-way between tho boat-houses a ; rude pier ran from the banks of the river j out to tho edge of tho channel. On the . land-end of this pier a gate opened into tho front garden and led up a gravel walk, bordered By shrubbery, to tho front door of the cottage. This door opened into a wide passago flanked by two doors on each side, lead ing into large, low-ceiled rooms, with broad, old-time fireplaces, and wide low windows. At the' back of this passage was a door leading into the yard, and giving a view of the' wild rocky side of tlie precipice, but not a glimpse of the sky, unless you passed but upon the threshold. This was considered the unsafe side of the premises ; for not unfrequently a depre datory fox would steal down tho mountain and enter the yard on a foraging expedition among the hen-roosts, or a prowling wolf or catamount would lurk around and lie in wait for larger prey. Therefore, to protect human creatures as well as poultry and quadrupeds, a pair of furious bnll-dogs were kept chained up there during tho day, and let loose at night. Branching off from the right hand side of the pier as you faced the land was v steep and rugged road, which ran in and out among tho ravines of the mountain, leading finally to "Hill Top," the largest and richest plantation on this side of the ferry. It was watered by the Hurry, the north branch of tho Wilde. On the left hand of the pier ran another road around the base of the mountain to tTie old rod eandstone church,.situated oil tlie Whirl, or south branch of the Wilde, and said to be of an age coeval with the first settlement of tlie neighbourhood. ;h, " The household of Haddon's Ferry, on the stormy evening of that fatal fifteenth of July, with which the first act of our domestic drama opens, consisted of the proprietor, his granddaughter, and his negro house keeper. • ' ' , Gabriel Haddon, the present owner ot Haddon's Ferry, and the last of a long line of hard-wofking hereditary ferry-men, was a very handsome, noble-looking man, really sixty years of age, though seeming no more than forty. His form was tall, erect, broad shouldered, deep-chested, straight-limbed, and stately, with a grand head, and cleanly ' chiselled Grecian features, a complexion as fair and transparent, and eyes as blue and clear as those of childhood, and full, long, silvery white hair and beard that framed in the fine old face and flowed down over the noble chest and shoulders in a shower of who had known Gabriel Haddon from his early youth whispered how, in one week of agony, by the black magic of sor row, the golden locks of the young man had been turned to silver. . • \.\ a However that might have been in the lono- aw, this crystal, clear, silver hair was 'fine' Ohfy- sign of age about him, whiUrno trace of sorrow marred the heavenly eeie nitv of his face.' :' , ■ - " ■•' . . ; Common as his calling was rough as his labour must have been, this old man always chose to clothe himself in pure white ~r Ktblue suite. In summer, his dress was White or light-blue linen, and a broad brimmed stow hat; in winter, it was a homespun cloth suit and a round felt hat. With his silver-white hair and beaid, his fair complexion, clear eyes and clean, light- C Xu?ed P clothin g , there was a> loofco, purity, sweetness .and refinement about gepee ence of this fine old ferry-man that *os Wuly "the outward and visible sign of the inward and spiritual grace . - , Q , • A self-educated man, of the highest ana purest moral and intellectual excellence, ■ Gabriel Haddon was loved and admired by hSghbours: to a degree by his social status, but amply justinea uy his character. , , , Wm Some Various opinions were held of him. borne considered him a learned philosaphei , others believed him to be a seer and prophet while a third class set him down as a mua Haddon on this fifteenth of July, X day on which he completed h» sixtieth year. •, •■ j. •

The greatest blessing of the ferry.-raani*! earthly life was his young granddaughter, Gertrude, a girl of fifteen. Gertrude Haddon possessed a face and form which, if once seen, could never be for gotten. I .will endeavour to describe her, though, indeed, so much of her exceeding great beauty came from the informing spirit with in, that no merely superficial and material description would do full justice to the subject. ■ '

First, then, she possessed a form of medium height, and slender, well-rounded proportions ; a small, shapely head fchati sat gracefully irpon a well-turned neck, and was covered with fine, dark brown hair thafc rippled always from her forehead and temples, and fell in a shining mass of curls down her sloping shoulders ; a' perfectly regular and classical profile ; a broad, low, massive forehead; dark, straight eye brows ; long, black eyelashes ; dark, brown eyes, f nil of infinite compassion and humil iity; a straight nose; a small, sweetly moulded mouth, with a short upper lip; a round dimpled chin. Such was Gertrude's outward face and form. But what words can portray the intellectual beauty, the spiritual loveliness of her countenance ? Its ineffable tender ness ? Its perfect meekness ? Her dress in summer was cheap pink or blue gingham, with white neckerchief and white apron for week-days ; and for Sun days white cambric or muslin, with pink or blue ribbons ; in winter blue or crimson merino, with blaok silk apron and whito neck-ruflles for week-days ; and blue and black silk suits, with white linen cuffs and dollars for Sundays. The old ferry-man was determined to dress his child nicely, though not one item of jewellery, laco or embroidery, or a eingle artificial ilowor, ever marred the perfect simplicity of the maiden's toilet. One word more about the ferry-man's granddaughter. She was strong, healthy and fearless. She was equally skilful with the needle, a> broom or an oar. In the sickness of their negro housekeeper she could do all the work of the house. In the absence of her grand father she could manage the ferry-boat.

The third remaining inmate of the ferry house was Jessie Bell, a very tall, blacky bony and angular negro woman, of fabulous age and strength, who was housekeeper,, cook, laundress, maid, messenger, and feneral factotum to the family now, as she ad been from the time that the ferry-man'd mother had passed away, some fifteen yeara before. On thia stormy midsummer even ing; tho three persons comprising the little household were assembled in the sitting room of tho cottage. It was a largo roomj with low ceiling, a wide, low window over looking tho garden, tho river, and tho op posite range of mountains ; a door opening into tho passage, another connecting with. tho back kitchen, and a broad fireplace, crowned by an oaken chimney-shelf, and flanked on tho side next to tho front window by an old-fashioned es critoire, of which the lower part was a chesfc of drawers, the middle a writing-desk, and the upper a bookcase .filled with well-worn, books ; and on the side next the kitchen, with an old-fashioned buffet or glass-doored cupboard, adorned with the best china* glass and plated ware that the house could boast. Tho walls were whitewashed, the floor well scoured, but bare of a carpet tbie summer weather, and the window wae shaded only by heavy clustering tendrils of the honeysuckle and tho clematis, which, as tho cottage faced the east, intercepted in the forenoon tho burning rays of the mid summer sun.

An old-fashioned mahogany table, with, deep, folding leaves, a lounge with a, flowered chintz cover, an easy chair to match, half-a-dozon "cane-bottomed chairs, and a little work-stand, completed the furniture.

The broad fireplace was filled with cedar boughs, that 'emitted a pleasant, spicy odour.

On each end of the mantel-shelf stood, bright brass candlesticks ; above it hung three fine engravings of' Bible subjects, after the old masters ; on the left-hanA side was a picture of the Nativity, on th» centre,,-one of tho Crucifixion, and on the right-hand, the Ascension. Other picture* of Bible subjects hung on other parts of tbe wall.'

Tea was just over, and Aunt Jess was hovering about tho table, piling up cupe, saucers and plates upon the tray, prepara tory to taking them into the adjoining back kitchen:

The silver-harcd patriarch had withdrawn to his easy-chair at the front window. Hie granddaughter was standing by M» side. Both were looking out upon the blackening sky and darkening river. " Clear the table as quickly as you can, my good Jessie, for I think there is a etornt rising, and we will noed to be quiet until ife is over. Hurry, my good woman," said the ferry-man, glancing at the old servant and the littered table. ;, ;, ,;

"Oh, yes. Hurry, hurry, hurry, and. smash up all the cups and sassers ■!. haste makes woful waste.' 'Deed it doe?. You good, don't you ?". grumbled Joss, who was great on proverbs, and. es pecially on getting them mixed. > . , Gertrude, who had been standing- at tha open window by her grandfather's, side» now went over to the table, and began to. assisft in the removal of the service. ~ , ,

\Vith the help of the young girl's nimble hands the table was soon cleared, and the. ro«m restored to order. . . ..' ~.

Before retiring to her own dominion, Jessie, Bell turned to tha master of, the house, aiid said : , . ... , . : .-.•;. " Ole inarse, I'm α-gwine to step up to prayer-meeting at ole Aunt Letby Brown's to-night, and I reckon I shall stay < all nighfe and come home airly in the morning, tima enough to get breakfas', if you's no, in jections." , . ; " I have no objections on my score, Jessie ; yet, on your own'account, I should, advise you not. to venture out *to-nighfc,'* 'kindly-replied the old ferry-man, adding-: :" There is a.heavy storm rising, and yott may be caught in it before you reach your destination." ■■.." • ~ . ■'-

'" Perdestination!". Yes, I know thafr means what will be won't fee, or something , . , Can't help it, ole marse. Storm or no , storm, cotch or riot cotch, dis chile's bounct to go to pray'-meeting dis night. Andfc , ' what can't be- indured .must be cured. , S<* ; no use talking ole marse." ; „ " Very well, Jessie, I will not talk, use your own free agency," good-humoredly plied the .ferry-man. . • a " Good night,., then, ole marse j,, goo*. night, Miss Truda; say good night now-, 'cause 'taint no use for me to comic. back ia. de parlor 'fore I goes," were the final words of the old woman, as she disappeared through the kitchen door, closing it aftejp her. • . ... . ■ ■ " The storm seems to ba going arountt, after all, dear grandpapa, .The ; clouds are drifting north, of Mount Wilde, and melting away down the horizon," observed Oerirude, who had returned to h««-. post, of obsevvatfou at the open window^ <' It may be so, myKttle True. The fchreatr ening clouds may pass harmlessly away, or they may go around and return some hours hence, and barab upon us with redouble* fury. One can never tell what the clouda are going to do, especially in these mottH« ta.inpuH and at thig 59mm of %tut yaai\' 1 . ■ • : . ! J ■