The People of the Mist

dows lay a thin white rime, half frost, half snow; the firs stood out blackly against a steel-hued sky, and over the tallest of them hung a single star. Past these

of arms, and banners inscribed with the device Per ardua ad astra. Beyond these gates ran a broad carriage drive, lined on either side by a double row of su

Elizabethan, for in those days some forgotten Outram had practically rebuilt it; but a large part of its fabric was far more ancient than the Tudors, dating back, so said tradition, to the time of King John. As we are not auctioneers, however, it will be unnecessary

g that seemed to have acquired a life and individuality of its own. Or, if this saying be too far-fetched and poetical, at the least this venerable home bo

ter and irredeemable loss. The face that wore such evidence of trouble was a handsome one enough, though just now all the charm of youth seemed to have faded from it. It was dark and strong, nor was it difficult to guess that in after-life it might become stern. The form also was shapely and athletic, th

o make up his mind to pass those iron gates, and yet desirous of doing so

muttered to himself. “Well, like death

e came up, and, just as it reached the gates, something being amiss with the harness, a footman descended from the box to set it right. From where he stood Leonard could see its occupant

tram quarterings on it too! It is as good as an historical document, and I am sure that it must be worth a

ed and answered w

. What an awful smash! Just think of the old place being bought by a Jew! Tom and Leonard are utterly ru

ormously rich. I expect there will be plenty going on at Outram soon. By the way, my dear Ida, I do wish you would cure yourself of t

h as ever. You never objected to it before the smash, and I love both of them, so there! Why did you bring me to that h

side of it he paused, and looking after the retreating carriage said aloud, “God bless you

nd presently found himself at the door of a square red brick house, built with no other pretensions than to those of comfort. This was the Rectory, now tena

the position of second son to Sir Thomas Outram of Outram Hall. He was a beggar, an outcast, a wanderer, the son of a fraudulent bankrupt and suicide. The careless words of the woman in the carriage had let a flood of light into his mind, and by it he saw many things which he had never seen before. Now he remembered

en, but from him that hath not shall b

ation, not undeserved, of being the most beautiful and sweetest-natured girl that the country-side could show. Now, being dark and fair respectively and having lived in close association since childhood, Leonard and Jane, as might be expected from the working of the laws of natural economy, had gravitated towards each other with increasin

it had its elements of beauty. Such affairs gain much from being the first in the series. Who is there a

to explain that his engagement to that young lady was of the suppressed order. Her parents had no wish to suppress it, indeed; for though Leonard was a younger son, it was well known that he was destined to inherit his mother’s fortune of fifty thousand pounds more or less. Besides, Provid

d often in the after-years did they have occasion to bless themselves for their caution. But not the less on this account was Leonard’s position as the affianced lover of their daughter recognised among them; indeed, the matter was no secret from anybody, except perhaps from Sir Thomas himself.

ing-room holding a huge and ancient silver loving-cup in both hands, and in such a position as to give the observer the idea that he had just drained its entire contents. In reality, it may be explained, he was employed in searching for a hall-mark on the bo

o allow himself to stare at his visitor along its length, for all the world as though he were covering him with a silver blunderbuss. His wife, an active little woman, turned round as if she moved upon wires, exclaiming, “Good gracious, who’d have thought

very little heed to her father’s lecture upon ancient plate, did none of these things. On the contrary, she sprang up with the utmost animati

rbuss upon his daughter and fired

ich fatherly admonition and frie

momentarily she had forgotten. Then Mr. Beach, setting down the flagon,

oy, how are you?” he sa

rd bitterly. “Nor would you have done so, but Tom and

er found that he could not get through in the time. The accumulations of such an ancient

said

any means, for such collections as those of Outram, however interesting and valuable they may have been to the family itself, do not often fetch their worth at a country auction. Yes, they sold decided

coldly; “I always understoo

h and himself, rose one by one and quitted the room. Jane was the last to g

u will be careful to be dressed in time for dinner, will you not, love? You remember

the door and slam it behind her. Clearly the prospec

as meant to be sympathetic but which jarred horribly on his listener’s ea

d me to,” said Leona

the way I believe that Mr. Cohen

e, not a friend

that you were at

I do not

armly about the man who will one day own Outram. Ah! as I said, this is all very sad, but it must be a great consolation to you to remember that when every

ve lain in the mouth of the Rev. James Beach, who owed nearly everything he had in the world to his kindness, to allude

sold, our fortunes have gone utterly, and our honourable name is tarnished. At the present moment I have nothing left in the world except the sum of two hundred pounds which I

chin. “But under these circumstances what can I do to help you? Y

n me by allowing my engagement to Jane to be proclaimed.” Here Mr. B

myself. With the stimulus which my affection for your daughter will give me, and knowing that in order to win her I must first put myself in a

nence. Of course any understanding that may have existed between you and Jane is quite at an end. Engagement! I heard of no engag

ot six months ago you and I had a long conversation on this very subject, and decide

rld except a name which you father has — well — tarnished — to use your own word, you ask me for my dear daughter’s hand? You are so selfish that y

st Leonard

ou think nothing, provided only you can secure his money. She is not a strong character, and it is quite possible that you will succeed in your plot, but I tell you it will not prosper. You, who owe everything to our family, now when trouble has overtaken us, turn upon me and rob me of the only good that was left to me. By p

left the room and the R