icon 0
icon TOP UP
rightIcon
icon Reading History
rightIcon
icon Log out
rightIcon
icon Get the APP
rightIcon
The Trespasser, Volume 2

The Trespasser, Volume 2

icon

Chapter 1 WHICH TELLS OF STRANGE ENCOUNTERS

Word Count: 3009    |    Released on: 29/11/2017

ain quiet no longer. His uncle held up the sketch. Gaston could scarcely believe that so strong and life-like a thing were possible in the time. It had for

not a modern cottage, not one tall chimney of a manufactory, but just the sweet common life. The noises of the

t exactly as though born here and grown up with it all. But it was also true that he had a native sense of courtesy which people called distinguished. There was ever a kind of mannered deliberation in his be

read in it, and lived in it-when it did not rain. Probably no one of them would have, at individual expense, sent the wife of the village policeman to a hospital in London, to be cured-or to die-of cancer. None would have troubled to insist that a certain stagnant pool in the village

all the circ

d the witnesses, and so adroitly bewildered both them and the justices who sat with his grandfather on the case, that, at last, he secured the man's freedom. The girl was French, and knew English imperfectly. Gaston had her swor

ing was done for her favour; for she viewed it half-gratefully, half-frowningly, till, on the vill

unselfish-even quixotic, as it appeared to her-silly, she would have called it, if silliness had not seemed unlikely in him. She had never met a man

. He did not steal, and he wa

y girl. That is

re, then met his curiously. Their looks swam for a moment.

d you are one. It is no lie. There is something in it. My mother had it; but it's all sham mostly." Then, under a tree on the green, he indifferent to village gossip, she took his hand and told him-not of his fortune alone. In half-coherent fashion she told him of the past-of his life in the North. She then spoke o

he said, with rough kindness;

Gaston, and s

her mother afore her

lit a

d perhaps you are right that I'm a Romany too; but I don't know where it beg

re on the way to France now. She wants to see where her mother was born. She's

ped him. He shook hands with the man, then turned to her again. Her eyes were on him-hot, shining. He felt his blood throb, but he returned the look with good- natured nonchalance, shook her ha

ckery of the Medicine Men in the shade. He had influenced people by the sheer force of presence. As he walked on, he came to a group of trees in the middle of the common. He paused for a moment, and looked b

n the combe. He watched them. Presently he saw one boy creep along a shelf of rock where the combe broke into a quarry, let himself drop upon another shelf below, and then perch upon an overhanging ledge. He presently saw that the lad was now afraid to return. He

who had come with her from London, where she had spent m

said, as he led Saracen to a sapl

beside the boy. In another moment he had the youngster o

id, "to frighten yourself a

d; "but when I looked over the ledge my head wen

ered what it was that made her so interesting. He decided that it was the honesty of her nature, her beautiful thoroughness; and then he thought little more about her. But now he dropped into quiet, natural talk with her, as if they had known each other for years. But most women found that they dropped quickly into easy talk with him. That was because he had not learned the small gossip which varies little with a thousan

ayed, but talking on reflec

-night, of course? We are ha

my grandfather does not

it is dul

sure it

What

ook he

your honour, Mr.

r my question?"

blus

That is not w

the matter does take that colo

him with simpl

ht to be glad of such a high position whe

nd down his horse's leg m

t up to think about it; I don't know that I ever did any good in my life.

. Why, we all have talked of it; and though it wasn't done

own at her

libel! Doing good 'irre

good

ills he had paid, the personal help and interest he had given to man

red that the little man was short in his accounts, and had been got out of the way by Gaston Belward. Archdeacon Varcoe knew the truth, and had said that Gaston's sin was not unpardonable, in spite of a few squires and their dames who de

neither did my father. Not a stroke have I done for it. I sit high and dry there in the Court, they sit low there in the village; and you know how they live. Well, I give away a little money which these people and their fathers earned for my father and

es for things, yo

umanity have to be taught as Christ

tly said, "about Spro

I had been here longer, I should have taken him aside and talked to him like a father. As it was, things slid along. I was up in town, and here and there. One evening as I came back from town I saw a nasty-looking Jew arrive. The little postmaster met him, and they went away together. He was in the scoundrel's hands; had been betting, and had borrowed first from the Jew, then from the G

ed to get

sible happiness of those three? Discretion is a part of justice, and I used it, as it is used every day in business and judicial life, only we don't see it. When it g

e sure what you would do in any particula

first, and ran to meet him. He saw her bright delighted look, and he sighed involuntarily. "Something has worried you," she said caressingly. Then she told him of the accident, and they all turned and went back

id to his wife: "Do you think

danger. Gaston, my de

goy

efore 'shall'? Rea

have her, and he is interested in her. My d

is hand

u are a good

at down in a chair, and brooded long. "She must be told," h

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open