Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 37, Number 15, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 February 1905 — CRIPPS, THE CARRIER [ARTICLE]

CRIPPS, THE CARRIER

R. D. BLACKMORE

Author of “L 0R N A DOONE,” “ALICE LORR A 1 N E,” ETC., ETC.

CHAPTER Vl.—(Continued.) ' “I knows where Miss Graiie Ik*,— lie •i-ffan with a little...iletianee. "I knows where our Miss (iraeie lies—-dead aiiil ♦old —dead and cold —without no eotlln. aor n winding sheet —the purty eratare. the purty' era tore —there, what 1 fool J be!” Master Cripps. at tlie picture Himself lad drawn, was taken with a short lit of •obs, and turned, away. Mr. Oglander •lowly laid down the pen. which ho had taken for notes of a ease, and standing <as firm as his own great oak tree, gave »o sign of the shock, except in the color •f his face, and the brightness of his far.e, “Go on, Cripps. as soon as you can,” <le said in a calm and gentle voice. "Try ■of to keep me waiting. Cripps." “I be trying: I be trying all 1 knows. "The blessed angel be dead and buried, •lose to Tiekuss’ tatie crop, in the eerier of P.rambie Quarry. At least, l mean Tickuss's taties was there: but he dug them a fortnight, come Monday, lie did. “The corner of the 'Gipsy Grave,' as •they call it. Who found it? How do you know it?” “Esther was there. She seed the whole •f it. Before the snow conic —last Tuesday night." “Tuesday night! Ah, Tuesday night!” —• for the moment, the old man had lost ‘lis clearness. “It can't have been Tuesday night—it was Wednesday, when 1 sode down to my sister's. Cripps. your •ister must have dreamed it. My darling was then at her aunt's, quite'safe. You 'lave frightened me for nothing. Cripps." “I am clad with all my heart." cried Zaechary: “I am quite sure it were Tuesday night, because of Mrs. Exie. And your Worship knows best of the days, mo doubt. Thank the Lord for all His Miereies! Well, seeing now, it were somebody else, in no ways particular, and ferhaps one of them gipsy girls, as took the fever to Cowley, if your Worship will take your pen again, I will tell you all as Esther seed. Two men with a pickax working, where the stone overlangeth so, and the corpse of a nice young woman laid for the stone to bury it natural. No harm at all in the world, when you come to think, being nought of * Christian body. And they let go the *ock, and it come down over, to save, all infection. What a turn that Etty gived .me, all about a trifi’e!” The carrier wiped Icis forehead, and smiled. “And won’t I give it well to her?" . “Poor girl! It is no trifle, Cripps, whoever it may have been. But stop — Tam all abroad. It was Tuesday afternoon when my poor darling left Mrs. Fermitnge. And to the Quarry, across the fields, from the way she would come, is not half a mile —half a mile of fields end hedgerows—Oh, Cripps, it was my daughter!" “Her might a hpen, sure enough,” said Cripps, in whom the reflective vein, for the moment, had crossed the sentimental —“sure enough, her maight a’ been. A pasture meadow, and a field, and Gibbs' turnips, and then a fallow, and then into Tiekuss’ taties —half an hour maight a' done the carrying—and consuming of the rest —your Worship, now when did she leave the lady? Can you count the time of it?" “Zacehary, new the will of the Lord le done, without calculation! My grave is all I care to count on, if inv Grace lies buried so. But before I go to it, please God, I trill find out who has done it." ******* "Now. do 'e put on a muffler, sir,” eried Mary, running out with her arms lull, as Mr. Oglander set forth in the bitter air. without overcoat, but ready to meet everything. At the door was his •Id Whitechapel cart, with a fresh young eolt between the shafts, pawing the •now, and snorting. The floor of the cart was jingiing with iron tools as the young horse shook himself: and the Squire's groom, and two gardeners, were *cady to jump in. when called for. “So plaize your Worship, let me drhe.” said Cripps, who was going to sit fct front. "A young horse, and you at your time of life, and all this trouble over yon!”

"(Jive mo tlio reins, my friend,” erieil Sis Worship; and t'ripps, in some dread for his neck, obeyed. The men jumped in. and tlio young horse started at a rattier dangerous paeo. Many a time had Miss Grace fed him. and he used to follow her like a lamb. “He will take us safe enough,” said the Squire; “he seems to know what he lie going for.” Not another word was spoken until ♦hey ciime to the gap at the verge of the Quarry, where the frosty moon shone through it. “Tie him here,” said the master shortly, as the groom prod need Sis ring rope; "and throw the big cloth •ver him. Now ail of you come; and i’ripps go first.” Scared as they were, they could not in •hame decline the old man's orders; and ♦tie-sturdy t’ripps, with a spade on his •houlder, led through the drifted thicket. Behind him plodded the Squire, with nil aulit lantern iu one hand, and a stout •ak staff in the other; the moonlight glistening in his long white hair, and sparkling frost in his hoary beard. The •now before them showed no print larger ♦lran the pad of an old dog fox pursuing At spluttering track of a pheasant's •purs; and it crunched beneath their toots with the crusty impact of crisp severance. All around was white and waste with depth of unknown loneliness; •ad Master t'ripps said for the rest of Sea life that he could not tell what lie was about, to do it! After ninny flounderings in and out of toflow places, they came to the corner of 4to quarry dingle, and found it entirely 4toked with snow. The driving of the ■Mtheast wind hnd gathered ns into a thnoel there, and had stacked the snow as many acre* in a hollow of less than tats a rood. Over the whole, the cold ano shone, and made the depth look layw. Tiie men stopped abort, and Matod at their shovels, and looked at mm another. All powers of evil were Wailed ngniust them, and they saw no to take; atill it was not their own to go back, without having struck • Mow for it.

"You can do nothing." said Ihe Squire, with perhaps the first bitter feeling he h.-ul yet displayed. "All things are dead against me: I must "fill, as von sav. itlid hear it. It would take a whole corps of sappers and miners a week fft clear this place out. We cannot even he sure of the spot: we cannot where the corner is; all is smothered up so. 11l luck always rides ill luck. This proves beyond doubt that my child lies here.” The men were good men. ns moil go, and they all felt love and pity for the lost young lady, and the poor old master. Still their fingers were so blue, and their frozen feet so hard to feel, anil the deep, white gulf before them surged so palpably invincible, that they could not repine at a dispensation which sent them home to their suppers. “Nort to lie done till change of weather," said Cripps. as they sat in the cart agaiu:,lT reckon they villains knew what was coming, bettor nor I. who have kept the road, man and boy, for thirty year. The Lord knoweth best, as He always do. But to mv mind lie manoth to kape on snowing and freezing for a month at laste. Moon have changed last night; and a bitter moon we shall have of it.” And so they did; the bitterets moon, save one, of the present century. And old men said that there had not beeu such a winter, and such a sight of snow, since the one which had been sent on purpose to discomfit Bony. Mr. Oglander, in his lonely home, strove bravely to make the best of it. He had none of that grand religious consolation which some people have (especially for others), and ho grounded his happiness perhaps too much upon his own old hearthstone. Ilis mind was not an extraordinary one. and his soul was old-fashioned. his sister Joan came up—a truly pious and devoted woman, the wi-lqw of an Oxford wine merchant. Mrs. Fermitnge loved her niece so deeply that she had no patience with any selfish pinings after her. "She is gone to the better land,” she said: “the shores of bliss unspeakable—unless Russel Overshute knows about her a great deal more than he will tell. I have little confidence in that young tnan. But to wish her back is a very sinful and unchristian act. I fear. “Now, Joint, you know that you wish her back, every time that you sit down, or get up. or .go to tea without her.” "Yes. 1 know, I know I do. And most of all when I pour it out- —she used to do it for me. But, Worth, you can wrestle more than-I cat). The Lord expects so much more of a mail.” Being exhorted thus, the Squire did his best to wrestle. Not that any words of hers could carry now their former weight; for if lie had no daughter left, what good was.-money left to her? The Squire did not want his sister’s money for himself at all. Indeed, he would rather be without it. Dirty money, won by trade —but still it had been his duty always to try to get it for his daughter. And this is worth a word or two. At the Oxford Bank, and among the lawyers, it had been a well-known thing that old Hermitage had not died with less than i 130,000 behind him. Ever in Oxford there never had been a man so illustrious for port wine. “Fortiter occupa portum” was the motto over the door to his vaults, and he fortified port itnpregnably. Therefore he supplied all the common room cellars, and among the undergraduates his name was surety for another glass. And there really was a port wine basis; so that nobody died of hint. Mr. Fermitage went on. and hit his mark continually; and his mark was that bull’s eye of this golden age, a yellow imprint of a dragon. So many of these came pouring in, that he kept them in bottles sealed, and left to mature, and acquire “the genuine bottle flavor.” When he had bottled half a pipe of these, and was thinking of beginning now to store them in the wood, a man coming down with a tap found him vend: and was too much scared to steal anything. This man reproached himself, ever afterwards, for his irresolute conscience; and the two executors gave him nothing hut blame for his behavior. People in Iloliwell said that these two took it dozen battles of guineas between them, to drink their testator's health. Enough that he was dead, and every man seeing his funeral, praised him. CHAPTER" VII. There was a street in Oxford, near the ruins of the ancient castle, and behind ti e new county jail, where one of the ninny off-sets of the Isis filters its artificial way beneath low arches and betwixt dead walls; and this street was known to the elder generation by the name of “Crossthick Lane.” Here, in a highly respectable house, it truly respect able man was living, with his business and his family. "Luke Sharp, gentleman.” was his name, description, style and title; and he was not by any means a bad man, so us to be an attorney. This man possessed a great deni of inti lencc, having much house-property; and lie never in the least disguise.! his sentiments, or played fast and loose with them. Being of a commanding figure, and tine straightforward aspect, lie left on impression, wherever'he went, of lionisty, vigor and manliness. And he went into very good society, ns often as he erred to do so; for although not n native ot Oxford, but of unknown origin, lie ■ now was the head, and indeed the entirety, of a long-established legal firm. He had married the daughter of the senior partner, and bought or ousted away the rest; and although the legend on his plate was still "Piper, Pepper, Sharp, and Co..*’ every one know that the learning, wealth, and honor of the whole court rn were now embodied in Mr. Luke Shirp. Ilis wife, a fat and goodly person, Miranda Piper of former days, happened to be the first cousin and nearest relative of ii famous man—“ Port-wine Hermitage” himself: and his death had nffoctcd her very sadly. For she found that he had provided n most unjust disposal of his worldy goods. To his godson, her only child and her Idol. Christopher Her-

mitage Sharp, he itad left a copy of Dr. Doddridge’s "Expositor.” and nothing “else. Mrs. Luke Sharp, though a very good Christian, repacked and sent back the "Expositor.” If Mr. Sharp .had been at home, lie would not have let her do so. He was full nr all times »f .large, generous Impulse. but never yet guilty of impulsive acts. It had always been said.that his son was to have the bottled half-pipe of gold, or the chief body of it. after the widow's life-interest. Whereas now. Mrs. -Fermitage, if she Triced, might rcrH all the bottles down (Tie High street. She, however, was a careful woman; ami it \v;.s . manifest—whore the whole of this vintage would be binned away—to wit, in The cellars of Reel-ley Barton, war-1 1 the -key at Grace Ogbtnder's very pretty waist. Mr. Sharp at the moment could descry no cure: but still to show temper was a vulgar thing. —— Now upon the New Year’s day of 1838, the bitter weather continuing still, .and doing its best to grow more bitter, Mr. Sharp had closed his office early. He had ordered his turkey to lie kept back, and begged his wife to see to it until he could make out and settle the import of a letter which reached him about one o’clock. It had been delivered by a groom on horseback. The letter was short, and expounded little. “Sir — "I shall do myself the honor of calling upon you at four o'clock this afternoon, upon some important business. Obediently yours, “RUSSEL OVERSHUTE.” It.is not altogether an agreeable thing, even for a man with the finest conscience to receive a challenge upon an unknown point, curtly worded in this wise. Luke Sharp had led an unblemished life, since the follies of his youth stmsldcd; he subscribed to inevitable charities; and he waited for his rents when sure of them. Still he did not like that letter. Now he took off the coat which he wore at hi* desk and washed his nice while hands, and clothed himself In expensive dignity, then he opened his book of daily entries, and folded blotting-pa-per, and prepared to receive instructions, or give advice, or be wise, abstractedly. But he thought it a sound precaution to have his soil Christopher within earshot; for young Overshute was reputed to be of a rather excitable nature; therefore Kit Sharp was commnnted to finish the cleaning of his gun—which was his chief delight—in his father’s closet adjoining the office, and to keep the door situt, unless called for. The lawyer was not kept waiting loud. As the clock of St. Thomas struck four, the shoes of a horse rang sharply on the icy road, and the office hell kicked up its tongue, with a jerk showing great energy. “Let It ini ring again,” said Mr. Sharp; “I defy him to ring much hard* or.” The defiance was soon proved to be unsound; for in less than ten seconds, the bed which had stood many years of strong emotion was visited with such a violent spasm that nothing short of tire molting-[Mjt restored its constitution. A piece clinked oil the passage floor, and the lawyer was filled with unfeigned wrath. That hell had been ringing for three generations, and was the Palladium of the firm. «■ • . “What eluntsy clodhopper," cried Mr. Sharp, rushing out, as If he saw nobody —"what beggardly bumpkin has broken my bell? Mr. Overshute—oh! 1 beg pardon. I am sure.” ; - "We must make allowance." said Russel calmly, "for fidgety animals, Mr. Sharp; and for thick gloves in this frosty weather. John, take my horse on the Seven Bridges road, and be buck in exactly fifteen minutes. How kind of you to be at home, Mr. Sharp!” With the words, the young man bestowed on the lawyer a short, sharp glance, which entirely failed to penetrate the latter. “Shut out this cold wind,” lie exclaimed as he shut in his visitor. "You young folk never seem to feel the cold. Now take this chair. Never mind your boots; let them hiss as they will on the fender. I have had men here come fifty‘miles across country, as the crow flics, to see me, when the floods were out; and go away with minds comforted.” "I have heard of your skill in all legal points. But lam not come on that account. Quibbles and shuffles I detest.” (To be continued.)