Rensselaer Republican, Volume 23, Number 21, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 January 1891 — THE MASTER OF THE MINE. [ARTICLE]

THE MASTER OF THE MINE.

By Robert Buchanan.

CHAPTER XIII— CONTINUED. The long boat remained, and at daybreak, after the captain perilled, the first officer, fancying that the ship was doomed, determined to make for shore. All. the crew followed him but my informant and two Others, who preferred slicking by the steamer to facing certain death* The men, in fact, were mad with fright and drink combined, and for this reason, perhaps, altogether forgot to wait for Madeline, who had gone below. 1 So the last boat left the ship. It had not gone far when Madeline reappeared. She would have been swept away but for the assistance of the sailors, who strapped her to the mast as the only chance of safety; and as shw Stood there terror-stricken, she saw the boat engulphed with all its crew the same sad sight which we had seien from land.

; It turned, on further questioning, that Miss Graham was the only passenger. and occupied with the colored maid the captain's own cabin, Her father, a rich, Demerara*planter, had died some months before she took passage, leaving her a great inheritance. I had no time to answer for myself the many questions which crowded upon my mind—Why Madeline had come to England? W hether she had relations •arriving in the whole country? Whether any living person, lover or friend, had the right to protect hCr? But I looked at her again, and thought how different she was from all the other women 1 had known; in her queenly grace and warmth of beauty. Beside h3r, even my cousin Annie would have looked coarse and common. > But there was no time to be lost, if she was to escape the consequences of that night's exposure. She was still dripping wet, and the morning air was bitterly cold. t ♦•You must not stay here,” I said approaching her, “or you will catch your death. Do you think you cau ascend the cliffs? My aunt's cottage is dose by, and I should like to take you,, there at once. She rose at once, shivering, and took my arm. Half leading,half supporting her, I guided her out of the boat-house and up the steep ascent leading to the summit of the crag, my uncle helping her upon the other side. Some of the others followed, leading the colored girlIt was a steep climb; and before we bad gone far we found that her strenght was failing her, so that we were compelled to raise her hodHy- in our arms; but she was light and fragile enough, and, for mv own ] art, I could have oarried her like a child. Once on the summit, we rested again while some of the men went, in cba&e of a moor pony, one of several grazing on the moor hard by. When it was secured, and bridled and bitted with a ■tout rope, lifted her upon it, and placed the black girl by her side; and ! thus, still holding her and walkiug by her side, while the men followed behind like a procession. I conducted her to our cottage, and handed her over to the care of my kind aunt. Thus God in a mysterious fashion, had restored to me the being who had been to me for so many years a sweet memory and a delightful vision. I felt strangely happy, yet troubled; unabfo yet to realize what had taken place. When my aunt had led Madeline to a chamber upstairs, where she tended her with a motherly sympathy and tenderness, I aat in the kitchen, waits ing and wondering, like one in a dream, ; CHAPTER XIV, A SUNBEAM IN THE COTTAGE. It seemed as if the days of my boyhood had come back to me. Never since then had I experienced such feelings as now filled my heart, for | with her fad ng they had faded, and,; during the years of our s paraiion I passed my time with tolerable tranquility; but now that she had been so miraculously restored to me, the old fire was rekindled in my soul, and I became another man. Her very presence in the house that ¥ night drove away all thoughts of sleep. I paced my room with restless footsteps, rand when dawn broke I hurried off to the shore. 1 What a change had come! The wind had died, the sea was like glass, and the only record left of the storm was the wreckage which was being east upon ine sands. Early as I was, there were others before me, gazing eagerly seaward, and searching along the cliffs lor a prize. X took a walk round by the mine, and; having made a hasty inspection, I hurried back to .the cottage, eagerly hoping, yet halt dreading to see Madeline: But I was dlssap >inted. My uncle had gone to his work. My ahnt was busy, but alone. I looked round the:: kitchen, and: my heart gavo" a great throb. After all, the events of the past night were real. There, hanging beside tne fire, was the cloak, a rich mant e of silk and fur, which had been cling! ng-round Madeline's form when I took, her from the wreck. - , cp. r :._

I inquired eagerly lot Madeline. "Have you seen her, aunt?' 1 I asked ••Is she well? How does she lookf’ i i suppose there was something peculiar in my manner, tor my aunt gazed at me curiously and said- -•• Who be she. Hugh? Dost knaw who she be?” •'Yes. She is Miss Madeline Graham. She was at school with mo long ago. Just before my father died she left, and I have never seen her since," At that moment the door opened and the figure as the black woman appeared. In the light of day she looked foreign Indeed, • slight, delicate girl, shivering in the cold of our raw oil•ante. I asked her how her mistress

[did. She made no answer, but stared : vacantly at me. and then I discovered ( that she knew no language but the one In which she had spoken to Madeline. I looked at my aunt and she understood—she went herself Into the bedroom to see bow her guest was getting along. . j Sue was away only a few minutes, yet it seemed to me an hour. When 'she came back she at my anxious look, “It be-all right, lad, it be all right,” she said. * ‘The lady be nawn the warse o’ her watting, but she be tired and will stawp in bed to-day. She be a p'ratty creature, Hugh, and rich. I dar say, for her fingers be covered wi’ diamond rings,” __ ____ Ail that day, overcome by the fatigue through which she had passed, Madeline remained in her chamber, whilol, utterly unable to work, hung like a restless spirit about the house. The next morning she awoke much refreshed, and when we three sat at Breakfast she astonished us all by appearing amongst us, fully dressed, and' looking bright and well.

Her advent oaused a general exclammation; my sunt ran forward to her assistance; my uncle placed our most comfortable chair beside the fire, while I, dumb and powerless, stood in the background doing nothing. Madeline! Could this be Madeline?—the little girl I had dreamed of all these years, j whose hands had been covered with ; my passionate kisses and marked with my tears, and who had even wept a little herself at parting with me; could 4bis—be the same, this glorious creature, with dreamy black eyes, warm brown skin and glorious black hair? Her form was t*ll and straight as a willow. She moved like a queen. As all her own clothes had been lost in the wreck she wore a dress of my aunt’s; over it she had thrown the cloak she had worn on the wreck, and which was now thoroughly dried. She came forward languidly, leaning on the arm of her blaek attendant, and sunk down into the chair which my uncle had placed for her, while the native began crying and kissing her hands. They spoke together in the foreign tongue, then Madeline raised her eyes and looked quietly around. All this while I had been standing in the background, longing, yet dreading, to speak to her; for J §aw pearly enough that to her all the past w'as forgotten; but now, as her eyes swept the room and finally rested with a look of recognition on my face. I felt the het blood mount to my temples. “Am I mistaken ” she asked softly, “did you take me from the wreck?” I bowed my head. In a moment all her languor disappeared, the old fire darted from her eyes, the old flush suffused her cheeks—she was the Madelin#«f my childhood once more. She looked at her hands, with one quick movement pulled off the most valuable of her rings, and held it towards me. “Will you not take it?” she said, with a bright smile. “You saved | my life.” I Her whole manner was that of a lady speaking to an inferior. Under my excitement I hardly noticed it. Scarcely knowing what I did. I sprang forward and took the ring; then, eagerly kissing her hand, I placed it again upon her finger. “Madeline,” I said, ‘‘don't you know me? Madeline—Miss Graham!" She looked at' me more critically, and shook her head. “Have you forgotten Munster’s?” I said, “and Hugh Trelawney?” If I expected a wild outburt of pleasure at the mention of my own name, I was quickly disappointed She only smiled; and, with her eyes fixed upon vacancy, lu ff shb was reviewing thepast, said: “Munster’s? Hugh Trelawney? Oh yes; of course I remember now! Hugh Trelawney was the nicest of those Munster boys, and we were friends; ! but, ’she added, fixing here eyes anx ion sly upon me, “surely you. are not that boy?” “Yes,” I replied, lam Hugh Trelawney!”. Her eyes opened wider, she glanced from me to my uncle and aunt, then round the kitchen; then 6he was silent. I felt that some explanation was due to her, and I gave it. I told her of my fathers death—of the kindness of my uncle and aunt, and of my subsequent life at St Gurlott’s. •‘St Gurlott’s!” she said. “Is this St. Gurlott’s in Cornwall?" I answored in the afflmative. “Then I have an aunt living in a place of that name.” she continued. “Perhaps you may know her: her name is Mrs. Redruth.” “Lawd a mussey! wha, that be our master’s mother!" broke in my aunt But I added: “Are you sure it’s the same, Miss Graham? This Mrs. Redruth has a sob who owns the mine,” • “Yes, I know—my cousin George!” she answered; while my heart misgave me at the familiar manner in which she mentioned the name. “Oh, it must be the same, 1 she continued enthusiastically; “and to think I should be shipwrecked here, of ail places in the world! Mr. Trelawney, are they far away? Would it be possible to let them know that I am here?"

“It wilLbe quite possible. Shall I take a message?” “Will you be so kind? Perhaps if you tell her the story and show her this ” she continued, drawing a quaint signet ring from her finger, “my aunt will come to me. This was my dear father's ring, and she knew it well.ior he always wore it. —and he had it on even when he died!” I took the ring from her hand and started off on my mission, The events of the last few hours had mode me a changed being. I began to wonder if it was ail real; whether I had really seen Madeline,and whether the one reel romaaoe of mjrliie had

! been ruthlessly swept Away. Ii j was clear to me now that she thought little of the past and cared for it even less. While I had been living upon the memory of those dear days, she had let other events obliterate it entirely from her mind. Well, it was clear Imustdo the same. I must deliver her up to the custody of her relations as coldly as if she were a stranger who had casually been cast in my path for a day. Having made my decision, I bocame calmer, and walked with a steady step up to Redruth House. I enquired for the young master; learned that he had left for London two dava before. J asked for the mistress, and she saw me. She listened to my story quietly enough; when 1 showed her the ring her white face flushed, her hand trembled and her eyes filled with tears. “It is my brother’s, my poor brother’s,” she said, more to herself than to me; then she added: “My niece is at your cottage, you say ?” “Ye 3 raadame.” “Tell her I will coma to her at once,”

I left the house and,' instead of returning to the cottage, walked straight down to the miner Where was the use of my returning to Madeline: to stand by and see that grim and stony-hearted woman bring to her queenly eyes the light of happiness, to her lips the cry of joy, which the sight of my face had failed to do? No; such a sight might have aroused all that was bad in my nature. I was better away. All day I worked with a fierce persistence which alarmed me. I looked at myself in my mining suit, then recalled Madeline as I had. seen her that morning, with her soft hands sparkling with gems, and the black servant crouching at her feet, and then realized more than ever the distance that divided us from one another. She was the mistress, born to command; I tho servant, whose business was to obey. Lreturned home in the evening and found the cottage much the same as it had always Been, Madeline was pone, “She be up at Redruth House, Hugh," said my aunt. “The awld missus came and took her away, and right glad she was to go, poor lass.” She showed me p five pound note which Madeline had given her. Borrowing it from her aunt to do so. She put the note into an old work box where most of her treasures were kept, and set about getting the tea. imagining that the romance of last night’s wreck had ended. CHAPTER XV. UNDER THE SPELT. For some days after that I saw nothing whatever of Madeline; indeed, so close was she kept in the great house that she might never have existsd at all. I began to think that she might have taken her departure from Cornwall, but I was wrong. One day, the seventh from that on which the lifeboat had brought Madeline to shore, I made a minute inspection of the mine, which every day grow more dangerous, and came up from my work covered with filth from head to foot I had passed the last ladder, and stood on terra firma, ait the mouth of the mine, dazz.led by the quick transform ation from pitch darkness to broad daylight, when my ears were struck by the sound of a voice which passed like sudden music through my frame. I rubbed my ejes and looked about me, and there, not far from where I stood was my old sweetheart. She was dressed now in an elegant costume of gray which fitted her to perfection; a little hat with long plumes was on her head, and her face, looking lovelier than ever.glowed and sparkled in the light; with her rich brown skin and sparkling black eyes,her erect carriage, graceful trea i , she looked like some Eastern princess. She was walking toward tho spot where I stood. George Redruth was beside her, while behind followed the black girl, Anita, her dark eyes fixed upon her mistress. This encounter had so unnerved me that for a moment it depi’ived me of the power both oi speech and action. Quickly recovering myself, however, I was about to move away and so avoid embarrassment when the master’s voice arrested me. (To be continued.)