Mrs. Falchion, Volume 2_

very wide; ranging from the Muskoka lakes to the Yosemite Valley. Because it was my first year in Canada, I really preferred not to go beyond the Dominion. With these thoughts in m

idering, however, that I did receive letters from her once a week, it may be concluded that Clovelly did not; and that, if he had, it would have been by a serious infringement

- especially fish. He urged that he would not talk parish concerns at me; that I should not be asked to be godfather to any young mountaineers; and that the only drawback, so far as my own predilections were concerned, was the monotonous health of the people. He described his summer cottage of red pine as being built on the edge of a lovely ravine; he said that he had the Cascades on one hand with their big glacier fields, and mighty pine forests on the other; while the balmiest breezes o

times, but Mrs. Falchion forbore inquiring for Galt Roscoe: from which, and from other slight but significant matters, I gathered that she knew of his doings and whereabouts. Before I started for Toronto she said that she might see me there some day, for she was going to San Francisco to inspect the property her uncle had left her, and in all probability would mak

ce to the house among the hills. It stood on the edge of a ravine, and the end of the verandah looked over a verdant precipice, beautiful but terrible too. It was uniquel

Still, if it was pale, it had a glow which it did not possess before, and even a stronger humanity than of old. A new look had com

great saw-mill and two smaller ones, owned by James Devlin, an enterprising man who had

been one of great devotion and self-denial. Before her father had made his fortune, she had nursed a frail-bodied, faint-hearted mother, and had cared for, and been a mother to, her younger sisters. With wealth and ease came a brighter bloom to her cheek, but it had a touch of care which would never quite disappear, though it became in t

e painted and sketched there in the morning (when we were not fishing or he was not at his duties), received visitors, and smoked in the evening, inhaling the balsam from the pines. An old man and his wife kept the house for us, and gave us to eat of simple but comfortable fare. The trout-fishing was good, and many a fine trout was broiled for our evening meal; and many a

pen fighting. As it was, the fire smouldered. When Sunday came, however, there seemed to be truce between the villages. It appeared to me that one touched the primitive and idyllic side of life: lively, sturdy, and simple, with nature about us at once benignant and austere. It is impossible to tell how fresh, bracing, and inspiring was the climate of this new land. It seemed to glorify humanity, to make all who breathed it stalwart, and almost pardonable even in

f directness, his eager but not hurried speech, his unconventional but original statements of things, his occasional literary felicity and unusual tact, might have made him distinguished in a more cultured community. Yet there was something to modify all this: an occasional indefinable sadness, a constant note of pathetic warning. It str

said he did not doubt but that he would do the same with one of the archangels. He afterwards sold Roscoe a watch at cost, but confessed to me that the works of the watch had been smuggled. He said he was so fond of the parson that he felt he had to give him a chance of good things. It was not uncommon for him to discour

e the insult. It was quite needless, for the clergyman had promptly taken the case in his own hands. Waving them back, he said to the bully: "I have no weapon,

of approbatio

he revolver from your pocket

looking the bully in the face, an

knife: throw

els as you on the quarter-deck," he said, "and I know what stuff is in you. They call you beachcombers in the South Seas. You

l, his thumbs caught lightly in his waistcoat pocke

o opportunity. Repeat, if you ple

a coward and a cur, who insults peaceable men and weak women. If I know Viki

had better go; but I leave t

or all, said: "Yes, you had better go-quick; but on the hop like

to Viking departed, swallowing as he went t

position he held in Viking and Sunburst. He seemed to have no ambition further than to do good work; no desire to be known beyond his own district; no fancy, indee

, the coping. We had been silent for a long time. At last

to-day, I cannot tell you how: a s

iringly, and, of purpos

t remember that all sailors are more or less superstitious: it is bred in them; i

asoned of them are that. But it means nothing. I may think or feel that there is go

s, I assure you, are not matters of will, nor yet morbidness. They occur at the most unexp

thinking of Hungerford. After a slight p

at occurred in my past; events which I hoped wou

t only fair to tell you-I don't know why I haven't done so before-that when you were ill y

at me earnestly. "They

all was vague and dis

his," he remarked quietl

hey hear?" He looke

ur fancies.... But really no one could place any weight on what a man said in deliriu

an idea-of the th

ed Alo, not your wife, I s

stay; and in our cheerfulest, most peaceful moments confront us, and mock the new life we are leading. There is no refuge from memory and remorse in this world. The spirits of our foolish deeds haunt us, with or wi

there are things we repent of which cannot be repaired. One thinks a sin is dead, and starts upon a new life, locking up the past, not deceitfully, but beli

danger. Keep your secret. If the woman-if THAT woman- ever places you in danger, then

, and he buried in thought, I heard the laughter of people some distance below us in th

t he was brooding, and was not noticing the voices, which presen