Democratic Sentinel, Volume 15, Number 4, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 13 February 1891 — Dr Elfenstein's Mission [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Dr Elfenstein's Mission

5 Remarkable Romance.

BY EMILY THORNTON.

CHAPTER XXII.

OR a few days Ethel fjjd!/ was confined to her IM room and bed. The fearful excitement ■'ll she had undergone of late, as well as the exposure to the damp and stormy might air, f \\ had produced cont. HBLilstant headache and jJBm ) j feverishness. But J the kind, motherly i care bestowed upon her by good Mrs. CJum. together with the judicious reinerKV" * dies of her skillful * m physician, at length

restored her to her usual activity. It was a happy event for Dr. Elfenstein when he first saw her able to meet him in the sitting-room, for he had felt very anxious lest a long fever should follow, the consequences of which could mot be foretold. When, therefore, all danger was over, he felt strangely light-hearted and gay. “Dr. Elfenstein," said his visitor—after his first salutation had passed, together with the joking remarks that followed—“I must now have a little serious advice, and naturally come to you for it. Of course you are aware that I must leave here?” “My dear Miss Nevergail, have we been so unfortunate as to offend in any way that*you cannot abide with us awhile?” he interrupted, teasingly. “Now, Doctor, you know better! Indeed, I am grateful for all your kindness, but I must necessarily obtain some situation in order to support myself; for you must know I am very independent in my feelings, and, therefore, to be happy, must have plenty to do. ” . “Is it not something to cheer up a forlorn old bachelor’s home by your smiles?” “It might be a pleasant pastime, but it certainly cannot be a life work. Do yon know of any person who needs a governess or companion?” “Yes; since you really ask me so directly, I cannot deny having seen that advertisement in the Times to-day. ” As the Doctor spoke he took from the table near a copy of the paper to which he had referred and handed it to her, pointing to an advertisement “for a young lady governess and companion for a girl of fourteen —an invalid.” The application was to be made at Castle Cairn, the country home of the DuchJ ess of Westmoreland. “The very thing!” exclaimed Ethel, as she finished reading it. “I must certainly see to this at once.” “Do not discompose yourself. I am attending Lady Claire Linwood, the invalid referred to, and, as I am going there in a short time, I will apply for the position in your behalf, if you-wish. ” “I should be glad to have you; lam sure I can perform the duties required to their satisfaction.” Asking a few questions as to the qualifications she could specify. Dr. Elfenstein at once proceeded to seek an interview with her grace the Duchess, arid In a short time all was satisfactorily arranged, and the following week Ethel was to become an inmate of this grand* old castle. Thither her trunks were carried, after some little difficuly in getting them from the Hall. The Saturday before she left the “cottage” was truly a delightful one. The day had been very hot and sultry, but a cooling breeze had made the long twilight very enjoyable, so much so, that Ethel had left the parlor and closeness indoors to sit upon the covered porch

that led into the house from the small garden ia front. Dr. Elfenstein, happening to be at leisure for that evening, had also sought its refreshing pleasures. After chatting pleasantly for a few moments, they were interrupted by observing a singular-looking individual open the gate and advance towards them. x He was a man about 65 years of age, tall, but with a slight stoop to his shoulders, slender and willowy in form. His face was rather notable for its good looks, a fine piercing black eye, placid features, and pensive smile, giving it a winning rather than a repulsive appearance. His beard was full, and pure white, reaching nearly to his waist, while long curls of snowy hair fell over his shoulders. \ His costume was rather on a clerical order, close vest and coat, the frock of which reached to his knees, while a soft felt hat rested upon his head. In one hand he held a black leather wallet, in the other a stout walking cane. Advancing to the steps, he said languidly; “May I sit on this stoop one moment? I feel weary after a very long walk. Asseat being given, he laid down his cane, but rested the wallet on his knees; then, removing his hat. he wiped the perspiration from his high white brow. “I am, sir, a clergyman without a charge. My name is Edwin C. Stiles, and lam at present engaged in obtaining subscriptions to several periodicals and religious works. “Perhaps I could enlist your sympathy in my endeavors: if so, I would be pleased to have your name as a subscriber to this work. ” Drawing a handsomely bound book from his pocket, he offered it to the Doctor for examination. It happened to be a work lie was about buying, having heard it highly recommended, so Earle pleased the old man by ordering a copy. After receiving the desired information the stranger arose, and bidding them good-evening passed onward. “Rather a person,” remarked Ethel, following him with her eyes, until he disappeared from sight. “That snow-white hair and beard make him exceedingly venerable in appearance, but I should not think him very old. ” “About sixty-five or six only, I should judge from his skin. But his pale face shows that his health must he poor.” “Do you think him really a clergyman?” “No one seems to know what to think of him. I have heard the inhabitants of the town speaking of him many times lately. All agree he must be a very eccentric character. Did you notice the wallet he had in his hand? It seems that he clings to it night and day. He has been going from house to house since he came to the village, obtaining subscriptions to liia books and papers, and, being very poor apparently, asks for his meals, and two oi three times has asked for a night’s lodging. Being evidently an educated man. and a clergyman, in poverty and loneliness, it has been given, but everywhere his mysterious wallet has occasioned many remarks and conjectures as to its contents. If a meal is granted he seems grateful, and leaving his hat and cane in the hall takes his wallet to the dining-room and keeps it within reach of his hand-while eating. He always asks a blessing over his food, and if he stays all night insists upon reading the Bible and praying with the family before he retires. “He prays with the wallet In his hand! “His prayers, say those who have heard him, are well-worded and really eloquent. “Several have asked where he resides, and if lie has a family. “His reply invariably is, ‘that is a painful subject, and I cannot answer.’ “So no one knows a thing about him, except that he calls himself Rev. Edwin C. Stiles. ” “How strange!” returned Ethel, as she heard the story. “Poor man! Perhaps his brain is a little unsettled. ” “The villages seem to think so. Many of the young men have tried to induce him to drop his wallet by sundry tricks. They have suddenly frightened him on the highway, have stolen in while he has been eating, and endeavored slyly to pick it away, but they found him ever on the alert, so were disappointed. “This morning I was at the village inn, and there laughed with the rest over the failure of their last joke. It seems he remained over night at Mr. Tracy’s, who lias a son full to the brim of mischief. So after the old man retired for the night, wallet in stole out to acquaint a fellow-plotter with the fact that ‘okl Stiles,’ as they call him, was at their house, and to ask his assistance in ferreting out the mystery of the wallet. “It was agreed that one should go to his door about midnight, calling ‘fire, fire!’ This would naturally frighten him, and cause forgetfulness: therefore, they expected he would run out to see where the fire was, leaving the treasure; then the other was to dart into his room, seize the wallet, open it, and so discover the nature of its contents. The whole joke turned on themselves, however, when with the first call of fire the door opened, and old Stiles appeared, wallet in hand!” Ethel laughed merrily over the joke, and then other subjects were introduced, and the eccentric visitor was forgotten. CHAPTER XXIII. ETHEL’S NEW HOME. The following Monday, as Ethel Nevergail was preparing to leave the “cottage” for the “castle,” Mrs. Clum told her, laughingly, of the last joke of the season. Old Stiles, it seems, had gone from Dr Elfenstcin’s door to the Manse on Saturday evening, and had been allowed to main over the Sabbath. On rising from the breakfast-table on Sunday he had asked the hour for church service. Being told half-past ten, he left the house about ten in order to go to the church. A few minutes before church time the pastor walked up the aisle, and, before ascending the pulpit steps, happened to raise his eyes, and there, to his astonishment, in his own accustomed place sat old Stiles, with the mysterious wallet on his knee. Hesitating a’lnoment in order to think how he could get the half-crazy creature from the sacred place, Mr. Lee opened a pew door at the side of the pulpit, and, going in, sat down in order to see if the man would not take the hint and descend. But, to his dismay, the stratagem did not woYk. I Old Stiles sat still. Soon tho bell stopped tolling, the or-

gan commenced the solemn voluntary, while the congregation sat gazing from pastor to pulpit, with its strange occupant, in speechless wonder. After a while the voluntary ended, and Mr. Lee arose in despair to pass into hts -plaggt, when, to his utter astonishment, up got old Stiles, and, calmly laying the wallet ou the desk before him, proceeded to give out a hymn. At this unlooked-for procedure Rev. Mr. Leo sank back in the pew, and concluded to see what the man really intended to do. He could not certainly expect to go through the whole service without his permission. But the worthy pastor was mistaken. The man did intend it; and not only that, but carried out the iutention —carried it out, too, to the delight and satisfaction of all present. Never had a more thrilling and eloquent sermon been delivered in that grand old church than fell upon their astonished ears from the lips of Rev. Edwin C. Stiles, the half-crazed possessor of the mysterious wallet. After having filled his breathless audieuce with wonder and surprise the strange being concluded the exercises by an appropriate prayer, then a parting benediction, after which he seized his w'allet, hat and cane, arid “walked down and out,” without speaking a word, or looking to the right or left. “Did he not return to the Manse?” “No. He just walked away, and has not been se^nsince in the neighborhood.” “Well," laughed Ethel, “he certainly is the oddest human being lever came in contact with. Do you think lie has left the village forever?” “No one knows: he may return at any moment, or he may not. It is just as he takes the freak, I presume.” Bidding the kind woman farewell, and thanking her warmly for her protecting care, she ran down the path as the coroneted coach of her grace the Duchess of Westmoreland drew up to the door In order to carry her to her new home, and she was soon entering the winding walks that led to the castle. She almost forgot the sadness of her lonely lot as her eager eyes drank in the splendor of the grounds through which they were advancing. Everything that could charm the senses was hero found in luxuriant perfection. Grand old trees, exquisite nooks of rarest beauty, miniature lakes, profusions of sweet exotics, rustic bowers, ivywreathed labyrinths for quiet rest and reflection, were on either hand, while the castle itself was a perfect monument of architectural magnificence. Pillars, turrets, domes and wings were all that great wealth and the most cultured taste could make them. The Duchess was a lady of remarkable beauty and grace still, although she had passed her seventieth birthday. Her husband, Charles Worthington, tenth Duke of Westmoreland, a stern, austere man. had died suddenly one year before: therefore, leaving the gayeties of the metropolis, she had retired to Castle Cairn, in order to spend the first year of widowhood amid its beautiful seclusion. To this retreat she had brought her granddaughter, Lady Claire Linwood, only child of her daughter Bertha, who, after marrying a peer of the realm, the Marquis of Linwood, had soon followed her husband to the tomb, leaving the little one to the fond care of the Duchess. This child, then, constituted the whole family now at Castle Cairn, for her son Edward, who since tho death of his fatfier was the rightful Duke of Westmoreland, was away, from iiis home anil had been for years, traveling through both continents. His had been a roving disposition. Restless and fond of change, rich and without ties, as he had evidently preferred a single life, never having presented his parents with a daughter-in-law, he had been at liberty to give up his time to the amusement he liked best on earth, traveling. Now, however, that his father had passed away, it was expected that lie would return in a few weeks to fill the honorable station heVas henceforth to occupy as Edward, eleventh Duke of Westmoreland. It was in this home of almost regal magnificence that our friend Ethel Nevergail was received as governess and companion. She found her young charge an amiable and affectionate girl, whose lameness and delicate health caused her to prefer the quiet of this lovely home to the rush and gayety of the city. In her Ethel soon found some one to love, and before she had been with her a week she saw that her affection was fully returned. Very grateful, then, to God was she for this pleasant occupation, and this lovely shelter In which to stay until the time should come when she was to open the package and discover the secret of her birth and the place where awaited her the small competence that her aunt assured her would be sufficient for her maintenance the rest of her life. [to be continued. |