The Trespasser, Volume 1.

de to Ridley Court. There was a railway station two miles from the Court, but Belward had had enough of railways. He had brought his own horse Saracen, and Jacques's broncho also, at

outskirts, and they got away upon the highway towards the Court, cottagers stood gaping.

Jacques?" asked Belward, wi

ster's saddle and the shining stirrups and spurs, dug a

silver all

up the gold rings in his ears, and flick

rejoined Belward, as he tos

of a broncho, and the grand homme to little

hip softly on the ha

e down man to master; and what they do here you've got to do, or quit-go back to your pea-soup and caribo

es no

ou better

p the half-breed's face

do what y

Eye's moccasins to the sun; and for that you swore you'd never le

it a

d disregarding Belward's

ind of wondering triumph in Belward's eyes, though he had at

go, or wha

u do, or whe

his lips, and made

half-breed, whose life had made for selfishness and independence, giving his nec

t, you'll find that I'll interest you. There's a bond between us, anyway. You're half French, and I'm one-fourth French, and more. You're half Indian, and I'm one-fourth Indian-no more. That's enough. So far,

other?" asked Jacques,

on

ney-the

were apart for a long time, then came together again, and rode for miles without a word. At last Belward, glancing at a sign-post before an inn door, excla

m, and they fell back alarmed. Belward now drank his beer quietly, and asked question after question of the l

ue of a morning. He was not idle, however; but he had not come to England to show surprise at anything. As the coach passed his face lifted above the arm on the neck of the horse, keen, dark, strange. A man on the box-seat, attracted at

was at Belw

ox-seat be from Ridley

ard,

me, giving his face a handsome malice. He wound his fin

'Maist

start wi': and one be killed i' battle, and one had trouble wi' his faither and Mais

him, eh, landlord? And

r was it Maister Robert turned his back on the Court-iver so

g an apple and a knife. She blinked at

urt?" she said. Her husba

pron to her eyes w

ck. 'Jock be gone,' I says, 'and I knows nowt o' his comin' back'-meanin', I was, that day. 'Good for Jock!' says he, 'and I'm goin' too, Becky, and I knows nowt o' my comin' back

'Tell Jock to keep the mare, Becky.' Then he flings away, and never more comes back to the Court. And that day one year my Jock smacks me on the cheek, and gets on the mare; and when I ask: 'Where be goin'?' he says: 'For a hunt i' hell wi' Mai

s neck, and thrust a piece of

Lawson, and mop

ga

'd so these three-and-twenty years-not since a' married

eaking. Jacques knew his master, and did not break the silence. Presently they came over a hill, and down upon a little bridge. Belward drew rein

said, "I'm in

gton, who served tea with canvas-back duck and tooth-picks with dessert. Once before had Jacques seen this new manner-when Belward visited Parliament House at Ottawa, and was presented to some notable English people, visitors to Canada. It had come to these notable folk that Mr. Gaston Belward had relations at Ridley Court, and that of itself was enough to command co

t of home," Jacques rep

e enter the Court yonder, look every day and every hour

t nodded his head.

erwise you are blind and dumb. You understand?" Jacq

as if to put himself into discipline a

is horse close up. Then he ran a

father was sick of it at twenty-five, and got out. We'll see what my father's son will do. . . . I'm going to say my say to you, and have done with it. As like as not there isn't another man that I'd have brought with me. You're all right. But I'm not going to rub noses. I stick when I do stick, but I know what's got to be done here; and I've told you. You'll not have the fun out of it that I will, but you won't have the worry. Now, we start

st paused on the top of a hill, and waited for Jacques. It w

ields and the smooth roads, to Ridley Court itself, where many lights were burning and gates opening and shu

thes with me, Brillon; the

ster and man. His voice was cadenced, gentle

d. I want the evening-dress which cost

her, in his new position, he was expected to s

k moose, or were nosing a cache of

vest, the red- silk sash, and the boots like these?"-t

nor a company's trader on a break. Never mind, the thing will wai

t. It was a Friday evening, and the choir were come to practise. They saw buxom village girls stroll in, followed by the organist, one or tw

ngaged with the main event that they had never thought of this other. But Belward was not excited. He was moving deliberately, prepared for every situa

ck directly

hurch was old, dilapidated; but the timbered roof, the Norman and Early English arches incongruously side by side, with patches of ancient distemper and paintings, and, more than all, the marble figures on the tombs, with hands folded so foolishly,-yet impressively too, brought

t first he did not listen; but presently the organist

am constrained to

bitation among th

: it wakened in Belward's brain a fresh conception of the life he was about to live-he did not doubt that he would live it. He would not think of himself as inacceptable to old Sir William B

E AND CONSTANT CARE OF THOSE EXALTED WORKS WHICH BECAME A GENTLEMAN OF ENGLAND; MOST NOTABLE FOR HIS LOVE OF ARTS AND LETTERS; SENSIBLE IN ALL GRACES AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS; GIFTED WITH SINGULAR VIRTUES AND INTELLECTS; A

as all my F

Robert

and over, his finger

leaned over and examined it. It lay, hands folded, in the dress of Prince

Robert

obert Belward looked a

ht came: Had he himsel

ing at himself in stone

Charles's time would l

t this still cold Gasto

rom tightening a cinch o

here he had been sojourn

land as

Charles was in danger with Cromwell: how, as the word came to wheel back, a shot tore away the pommel of his saddle; then another, and another, and with a sharp twinge in his neck he fell from his horse. He remembered how he raised himself on his arm and shouted "God save the King!" How h

ers, the song of the nightingale without, the sighing wind in the tower entry, the rustic

nd ages i

an even

watch that

the ris

an ever-ro

l its so

forgotten,

the open

fingers, and turned on his heel with a musing smile. His spurs clinked as he went down the aisle; and, involuntarily, he tapped a boot-leg with his riding-whip. The singing ceased.

ame into his face. Again, why not? Even in the Hudson's Bay country and in the Rocky Mountains, he had been called, "Tivi, The Man of the Other." He had been counted the greatest of Medicine Men-one of the Race: the people of the Pole, who lived in a pleasant land, gift

lward, come again

rested on the stalwart stranger with courteous inquiry. Gaston knew who it was. Over his left brow there was a scar. He had heard of that scar before. When the ven

e words he had heard addressed to the effigy returning. His eyes followed the you

n added: "Impossible!

y up the aisle. He paused beside the tomb of tha

at last. "He is like t

n. St

st, they had gone on into vexation, sorrow, failure, and shame. While Gaston was riding into his kingdom, Lionel Henry Varcoe was thinking how poor his life had

he Court? You have a standing invitation for this nig

the hand

have not asked m

ing nicely for you-your new gaiters, and your

ou, my dear? And t

ayfulness, but the eye

s are enough for Lady Belward, and almost too much for me. There is yet

an shook

e to leave yo

off?-'Nobody, no, not I, nobody cares for me

old painting? Not that his dress was so strange; but there was something in his face-some

d at her

think I will go after all, th

her. Come quickly, d

t a note to say I

has been lying on you

me! I am get

resently, as they hurried to the

. Did you see the strange

Gaston and Brillon were just entering. "Alice," he said, in

flash of excitement. "But he's so dark,

know yet

e just after dinner. Stay and talk; you must tell me ev