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WHEN THE “.0008 ARE OUT. Ilma sum-tad. and looked down her dress. “ I don’t know," she answered; “ I did not take it out. I must have dropped: it." TNo; I saw it‘when you left the table," laid Roland. “ Perhaps whiie you were flaring chess,” sugggstedfiir Philip. “ It must; be somewhere about the floor ;” and Ilma looked round her. " Never mind. 301; you will have to give me Another.” Just then Rose drew near. " Roland, we want you for whist; and Rachel bps no partner. Come along.” _ Raland could not well refuse ; he could not. make a pretense of waiting to hear classical muaia; so he was min to be a victimâ€"and nevqyas there a. more unwilling one. Ilma. complied, and. while she played. Sir Philip. who was lookmg down. caught sight of something lying near his foot. It was Roland's little-cared for rose. He did not pick it up at. once; but, when Ilma had fin- ished playing, he raised it and placed it on ‘he piano before her. V‘V‘VWillWyrbur rplray that last piece again ?" uked Darrell, as soon as he was gorge. V7“ Your rose." he said. “ I wonder I did not see it earlier , it fell close tp me.” “ Thanks.” There was no pleasure in her face. She took up the rose as if she hardly knew what to do with it. “ The stall: is broken ofl." :he said. with a perplexed look. “ I can’t put it back in my dress ; it’s not much good now ;” and she let it drop on the piano again." . . .l. -. 1 ‘ VDArreTl bent forward with a. quick-drawn hang]. and his deep gray eyes flaghqd. Crimson as the rose itself were Ilma’s cheeks and brow ; her eyes, half turned to him, had seen the look of his, her ear had caughtâ€"nay, to he: very heart had rangâ€"- the tone in hls voice. Yer she knew nothing and felt nothing clearly. She had a sense of losing some safeguard, of having some vnil or mask torn from her. She saw how Darrell read her conduct about the flowers he had ngen her ; but she could nor, in that hewil daring moment, tell whether he was right or wrong. She could not think at all. “ Yoh have not aiways' soytremed the gift of a flower," he said. aDsrrell. a man of the world with a wo- 1 man's subtlety of perception, saw that this child who turned from him and knew not how‘ to answer him had given him more than her lips could have told him. than her whole heart, half child’s, half woman‘s. could have told herself ; and back on his soul came the surge of the reaction. The dating words he had spoken should never have passed his lips. Had he said too much to draw back in honor? Nay, if she loved him, of what use to draw back. It would be too late too save her. “ 1! l" Ilma was still a child in many things. How should she give to him, he asked himself again, in so short a time, such love as he gave to her 1’ At least he could test it. at least he could find out by absence i! he had won a woman's heart, or only the girlish love that was more of the imagination than the heart. Quickly all this flashed through Sir Philip Dan-911‘s mindâ€"so quickly that there was source a moment’s pause before he 15nd his hand lightly on the keys, as though he were speaking of some piece of music to her, and. forcing back from eye and lip all that made hié heart heat so wildly, said earnest- lyâ€"_ ‘ " I should not pain you, Ilma; let my words pass â€"not as & jestâ€"noâ€"I wounded to day by a jeqy, bornof my own pain â€"but as I thought too hastily )poken, a ‘bought that, my life is not barren of at least a kindly memory.” 1 What a bitter mockery to him were such words! They pained her, but they gave her self-command. and she was for the time even grateful to him; later, in the silence of a sleepless night. she saw their hollownesa, and knew that his heart had spoken in that first look and tone. “ Kindly memory 1" she repeated very low. " Why should you not think so Sir Philip? I owe you too great a debt of gmti tnde to fall short of so much as kmdly mem- -__, . “ You give me a. problem to solve, Ilma ; for, by my faith, 1 cannot discover how I am your creditor. I thought I was a. debtor. Hush ! Give me a. woman’s privilege, the last. word. unless yuu will take it in music ; and I would rather listen to Schumann than fathom enig- mas.” So Ilma. played again ; and, when she rose to leave the pinpo,she forgot. the poor damask rose. and the piano lid closed over it. and it died there neglected. “ You remember what I asked to-night about explaining to you 1’” “ Yes." said the girl wonderingly. “ What do you mean 2" " May I come and see you, llms ?” “I suppose so; but not yet, notâ€"not be- fore Thursday.” " But you will come here before then 2” " Maybe. Good night. Auntie is waiting.” She ran away quickly, and Darrell handed her into the carriage ; then he mounted Human, and rode with the ladies as far as the Grange. He would not go in, but bade adieu to them on the steps, lifting Ilma‘s hand to his lips, as his custom was ; but this evening the soit moustache hardly touched the little bond, and he turned away without a. parting word. But. when Ilma dressed to go back to the Grange, she took Sir Philip’s flowers carefully from the water and hid them in her breast, knowing not where else to put them. for she dared not carry them in her hand lest they should be seen. Miss Dnrnford and lime. were to return in the carriage, and Zuleika was to follow them. As the farewells were being said, Roland continued to whisper to his She knew now in this solitary self-commun- ingâ€"ehrink from it as she would, self-analy- sis was forced upon herâ€"â€"thet he was right obont the flowers ; that it was because he had given them to her that she valued them ; she knew that he was far more to her than all the world besides. And. oh, if he loved her. why should the curse on his life blight his life ? She did not, would not believe in it. There was no stain on his honor; the ban of Heaven could not be on such as he ; and, if it were, she would rather die with him than live without him. But he was going away, and she was glad, for that might save him. She could not resist the influence of the gen- eral belief that deadly peril lay for the lest of the Derrells in the Conlmere floods this year. Would he go without seeing her ? She trembled at the thought of seeing him again, and wept passionately at the thought of not seeing him. mm foam so bright and treat,- me Morning found the girl with no feeling of weanness :every pulsa was beating high, and every sense on the alert. She ruse before the Inn was above the horizon. and. dressing quickly. went. down to the stable and saddled Zuleika. and went fur a. ride. She rode miles before good Miss Dmnford had opened her eyes pm}. when .1191? came in to break But there was a. deeper meaning in that re- ticence than even in fingering kiss and pas- Iionate words. And when he was gone Ilnm stood quite still for a mqment in the sum- mer night, and pressed her hands over her eyes with a low quick sob that was half bitter pain and half the very agony of joy. .u.-. ,,L,,_.___ I Did Philip Darrell love her? was the ques- tion that Ilms asked herself over and over again that night. Had she been a. few years older, there could have been no doubt as to the snswer~scsrcely any need for the ques- tion ; but, even when there seemed none other than one solution to what had passed that day and evening, still the torturing thought came that she was foolish and only s child. He might be fond of her in a fashion, but love her! And yetâ€"â€". Did he fear to bring sorrow on her? So only could she read what must otherwise seem like trifling with her; for his looks. words and tones that day, his manner when he parted with her, would not agree with a men's sflection for a. child; that would be frank and free, quite diflerent. He did not then regard herss “ only a. child,” but sometimes tried to make her think he did â€"-for her sake, not for his. He would not seek her love; bnl, ales, bed he not won it ? seemed so happy, that no one cou‘d have weased how she had sufiered, and suffered still. Bose came over early to the Grange, and wanted Ilmn to go back with her for a game of lawn tennis ; and Ilma went, having no excuse for refusing ; but she took care never to ba alone with Roland. The shadow of the approaching Thursday hung over her like a pall. She could not now avoid more than suspecting what Roland wanted to spunk to her about ; ami she shrank from that with a dread that grew more and more as the day approached. Meanwhile nothing was seen of Sir Philip Darrell. He was still at :he Court ; all South Abbott would have speedily known it it he had left. “ Maybe, missy,” said Job Heston to Ilma, as she was crossing the lock bridge early on Wednesday morningmnd met the miller. ‘~he’s setting his house in order at last ; time he did. if he means to stop till the rains come. They’ll be on us in a day or two,or my name’s not Heston.” " How do you know ?” asked Ilma with a sinkiflg heajrt. M - “ Know ? ~ Oh, I can tell ! His days are numbered. missy." “ I don’t believe it." said Ilma steadily. “ Don’t you, minsy ? But then, you see, you’re a foraigner.” ., “ How douyou know ‘2” asked the girl. “ What is meant; by ‘Iife for life ?’ That im- plies‘a life popsiyly sayedf _ “ Support-e it did', missy, his would be 1051:,” said 29b, grimly; “ gmdboth _1_m_:lst_ be _lost."_ “ Well. of course,” returned Heston, “ the. curse is doubtful w some extent ; but I fancy Sir Philip himself takes it rather that he’ll lose his life some way. Don’t be the other party, that’s all, miasy; you're far too hand- some to lose your life." “ Whi; A "life is given if it. is given by the will ; actual death is not 9 gecessity.” K rillma tumezi away haughtily and walked on. Job stood and looked after her. “Is that to be it. I wonder ?" he said to himself musingly. “The young Squire fan- cies her, or I’m much mistaken; but. if Sir Philip’s in the field, he’ll win â€"no fear. Then the Squire isn‘t one to take it coolly if his girl is taken away from him. I don't know what he’d do â€"something many wouldn’t ex- pect. As for the lord, he’d carry her ofi; that's the Darrell way.” Thursday morning dawned clear and sunny : bur Ilma awoke with a. heavy load of dread and grief on her heart. She could not meet. Roland ; he would taunt her about Sir Philip, and her face might bet-ray her. The dread grew to an everlasting terror ; and the girl determined to fly from the impending inter- view. the more so as Miss Duruford said at breakfast that she was going to visit some of the poor people, and, as Ilma never ac- companied her on these occasions, she would be left alone. ' U“ I shall take a. ramble presently, auntie, perhgps.” '~ What are you going to do with yourself, my (3538.): ?’_’_ asked Miss _D_umford. .. “ Very well, dear. How odd it is," con- tinued Miss Dumford. tying her bbnuet- strings, ” that Sir Philip has not been this way for so long ! It makes me very anx- ious. He seems determined to dare to the uttermost.” Ilms. made no answex ; and Miss Durnford went out with her mind tolerably at rest concerning Dark Darrell and her beautiful neice. Ilmn. walked with her aunt to the gate, and noted which road she took ; then she went back to the house, caught up her hat. and left the premises the back \vey ; but instead of going towards the river, she took an opposite course. running for some distance till she had put half a. mile or more of wood and field between herself and Scerth Abbot, and then she dropped into a. quick walk. ' Ilme. had not the least idea. where she was going, and did not caress long as she escaped Roland. Indeed she wanted to escape from every living thing, and the wilder the country grew the better pleased she was. Up hill and down dale she Went, and along rocky paths, till she came at last to a deep gorge. the sides of which were thickly clothed with verdure. The place looked like an enchanted dell, and brought to Ilma’s ready imagination the old legend oflthe knight who rode with the cross hilt of his sword uplifted through the e ichanted groves. She wondered if the super- stition of the country folk had peopled the glen with elves and other mysterious beings, and if the hoof- marks her quick eye detected among the thick moss that carpeted the ground were those of 9. headless steed, like the one that haunted the precincts of the Alhambra. The entrance to the gorge sloped gradually from where Ilmn stood. At another time she would have deliberately skirted the very for the pleasure of scrambling down ; but'now she had lost her wild high spirits, and walked onwards slowly, swinging her hat and listen- ing tothe singing of the birds in the trees. and watching with dreamy interest the sun- light among the leaves. Deeper and deeper she went into the deli, thinking she w:.uld discover the outlet; for, she argued, there surely was an outlet, Since the hoof-marks were still visible going one way, and there was no sign of a return journey. “ Ilma, Ilma,” he criedâ€"and his whole hem want out 1313 her in the yassiunato um:- No; evefi pausing to draw bridle, he sprang from his horse, and was at Ilma’s side, her hands clasped in his, before the startled steed had halted. It was strange, the girl said to herself, that she had never heard of this wildly beautiful spot before. Stay! She stcod still a mo ment, trying to remember. Yes; had not Rose, only the other day, talked of the Abbot’s Dell, which was said to be haunted ? No doubt this was the place. Haunted! Then she need have no fear of meeting any one. But the hoof-marks! The girl had moved onward, but now halted again with a sudden throb at her heart. There was one man who cared nothinz for peasants’ tales. She glanced behind her. but saw no sign of any living creature, save the birds in the branches and the scultling squirrels. She listened. There was a dead silence, though indeed on the mossy ground even a horse's step would not be audible till the animal were Within twenty yards. _ Another turn. and no sign yet of the end of the long winding glen. Hark ! What was that ? The girl stopped abruptly. A sudden flight of birds from out of the thick foliage source a hundred paces ahead. What had startled them ? In another second a dark object came round the turningâ€"not the knight of the legend. with cross hilted sword elevated before'him, but Sir Philip Darrell. mounted on Hassan. and gazing before him With such a. look as strong proud men wear when they are fighting a stern battle with their own passions, and know that they are losing ground inch by inch. But this Ilma had not time to see ; for he had recognized the slight form standing in the soft twilight of the glen at the instant that he passed the curve ; and a wild joy lighted up his face,and the last frail barrier the strong W111 had striven .to uphold tottered and fell. ‘ She bent down and examined the marks more attentively. An Indian would have made more of them, light as the impress was; but Ilma could see that they were those of a smell hoofed animal, though whether they were recent or not her knowledge did noty enable her to determine. Had Hassan passed that way 7 Well, why frighten her- self so? It might have been yesterday, or two days before. or three hours ago that Sir Philip had ridden through the glen ; and. if it were only five minutes ago. he would be far ahead of her. out of sight before she reached the end. But how the mere thought of his having been so nearâ€"perhaps so recently~made her heart beat l And how, argue as she would, her lips quivered and her eyes gazed fearfully before her with every on. ward step she took! How she started at every rustle of a leaf, as though she expected to see an elfin creature instead of a bird shoot forth from the brake l CHAPTER IX. ancew” oh, my life, my soul, I can strive no logger j Why have you com-{l9 temgt me 7” But Ilma could not answer him. She was tremblingviolently. Her golden head drooped, and her eyes sunk before hisl How could she meet the look that would have told her the whole glorious truth if his lips had been silent‘ and his hand had never touched hers? “Ilma I" Now his arms were round her, her heart was throbbing against his, and his lips sought hers. “ Ilma, my darling, I knew that you love me. Let me hear you say it. Raise those dear eyes and look into mine, and tell me that your life is mine, as mine is yours.” Was the curse forgotten ? She thought not of it. but raised her eyes to his and whispered softly, the sweet eyes sinking again immediatelyâ€" " I iové you I” avowal. Philip Darrell’s wish was granted, and that brief wild happiness was his. But, oh, 1t was brief indeed. and not even for a. moment was there peace! Once moreâ€"41nd now too late â€"rose up before him all that he had trampled under foot and seemed to have crushed for ever. He raised his head. which had been bowed on hers, and sought to loosen his clasp; but Ilma read his heart, and with a low cry of pain clung to him, pressing her golden {head isgainst his breast. “ No. no,” she said, passionately, “ you shall not put me from you 1 You have done me no wrong to love me and beach meâ€"ah. you could not help that lâ€"to love you. Heaven wxll not curse youâ€"I will not believe it.” “ Ilma. Ilma, hear me 1" “ No, no 1" she cried again. “ Even if the curse be true, you cannot save me"-â€"and a. noble triumph shone in the large, clear eyes that. gazed now full into 1113â€"“ for I love you. and I must suffer with you. Your fate must be mine. Philip, whether for weal o; woe ; and. oh, it would be a thousand times better to dig with you than to live withom you !” “ Hush. hush. darling, you break my‘ heart I” But he strove no more to put her} from; him, folding her closer and closer to‘ him. “ Why should I be exempt from the curse that has been on all my house for three hundred years; though indeed such love as yours, Ilma. might redeem the hlackest doom that ever tell on man? Child, listen to me. I was yet a youth when I vowed that no in- nocent life should suffer for my love; and I believed that I could live mylife without love. Onoe-â€"it was years ago â€"I saw one whose face was fair enough to linger in my thoughts; and I feared. and would not see her again; and soon almost the bare memory of that face passed away. Since then I have seen many fair women in many countries. but not one who could win we to break the vow I had made. But, when I saw you, I knew for the I first time the force of the power that I had i thought more under my own control. I was master of my own heart rm more. There was one being in this world. through which I had wandered so many years. who was to enter into my life and make it her own; and that one was a golden-haired child, with cloudless eyes that spoke to me a language they were not conscious of uttering." “ It is so sweet to think that it was my lot first to win your heart, Philip, and that even on that morning when you saw me on the river bank you gave me what mum ever be minp.” He paused a moment'; his voice failed him; but Elma. whispered spffily :_ “ Ay.” he said bitterly ; " butI should have been stronger. I did struggle, Heaven knows, to conquer. but not till I had madly flung myself into temptationâ€"till I had sought‘ you, defying my fate. and given my whole‘ heart to you ; and then. when l’believed you‘ loved me, lanaâ€"ah, forgive me for the cruel tests I put you to, and never blush how, dear? one, that your heart betrayed a truth it} should not recognize lâ€"I thought the last cord that bound me had snapped. Yet I made one more effort to be true to myself. On that last evening that I saw you I re- solved to keep away from you â€"I would try to discover whether your love was but a girl’s fancyâ€"end in one second of time all was swept to the winds of heaven. save only my love for you. And now must your dear life be sacrificed for mine 7 0h, Ilma. when you will not believe my evil fate, it is your great love that speaks 1 But, even so, is my guilt the lass in winning you ?â€"â€"ior I cannot plead ldoubt." "‘.No; it Qvas to avoid him I came out to- day. He m‘d sheathing t’ho «thtr 1(th shut “ Gmlt ‘2” The girl almost smiled. “ Your heart, Ithink, spoke better in that than your reason. You knowI am not an utter skeptic, Philip. I was at first; hm after What I heard. I could be so no longer. But. why is there only one reading to the fulfilment of the prophecy? You all allow it to be ambiguous, yet believe that it can point only to the extinction of your house.” " Whom do you fear 7” asked Darrell, watching her. “Roland Sabine 7” The girl ,atmted. “ Yes"' she answered in a 10w tone. “ Ilma," said Darrell quietly, “ has he dared tq speak t_o you ?” “ ‘ Life for life,’ " repeated Darrell ; “ and gladly would my life by laid down for you, [lma ; but, even then, should I not bring to you bltterest wqe ?” “ Woe to which death were happiness." said the girl passionately. “ But Philip. life is given by will as by deed ; may not that be the expiation ?” Sir Philip started violently. “ I cannotâ€"I dare not think it," he said hurriedly. “ Not if the hope were too bright “h is uniikely that you have been seen; the country is wild, and human beings are scarce. though we are only a mile from the gates of tho Court park; “You havelived so long, Philip, in the shadows that the light blinds your eyes; but. come life or come death, [am sun yours.” “ Thenâ€"oh. Philip, if nnyoub was seen me entpr the glen it. will be said 1 came to meet you! ” K “ Near the Conâ€"rt? I had no idea. where I wastaaid Ilgna. coloring dgeply: . “ Not to share deaxh â€"just Heaven forbid I“ he salidg‘lruokflxpgppwqrde. ” Philip, Philip; what are the mere years of existence when all is gone that makes life more than time ‘2” “ But, ah. the joy with the pain,” she whispered. hiding her face. " And is not one hour of more than earthly happiness worth long years of dull content 1‘ " “ Dosh thou so love me, darling ? ” He could say no more, but bowed his head on hers again in silence ; and he was almost won to her faith, and the bitterness almost passed away in ‘he glory of her sublime love. ‘ The sun was not past the meridian ; but time was unneeded in the enchanted glen Gentle Hassan seemed content to be forgotten for the slight dark eyed girl to whom his masâ€" ter spoke so low and tenderly ; and the birds sang softly in the deep foliage. Softly, little by little, yielding to his quas- tiona, Ilma, confessed to her lover how she had suffered during those days of his absence from her, and how, when she knew her awn heart. she feared hxm, although she yearned to see him again. so that she would have fled from him at. the moment she beheld him if it had been possible. Darrell gazed down wonderingly at the ex- quisite face through which the woman’s soul shone so clear and strong. Was this the happy careless child he had seen but a few days before dancing in the sunshine, with- out it- would seem, a thought for the mor- row ? “ 01), my heart, my heart,” he said, with inexpreasihle sadness. “ I have robbed you of y )111' happy childhood, and have given you in exchange a. love that must pierce you like a two- edged. sword I" “ Sweet ene "â€"â€"he could not help smiling uow-â€"" you sought all unconsciously, what you would most avoid. There is not one “in in these parts who will enter this vale save myself ; there is no outlet at the other end, as you imagined, and I had ridden through the glen only ten minutes before I met you ; so there was fate in this at least. N0 snare ever set for bird was more complete.” And 'his lips sealed the startled me, and I said I did not underamnd him. When we were going. bu asked to see me that he) might eprtin; and how could I refuse ‘2 SA» I said he could coma to-day ; but I grew so frightenad' that at last, when I awoke this morning, I felt I could not meet him ; and that is how I wandered out.” " A childlike ac: indeed, darling. remarked Sir Philip, steeping to kiss the trembling lips that had told him this with such girlish nai vete. “And so you fled to a. lover scarcely less dreaded, because loved." Then his face grew stern. “ Ilma, if Roland speaks to you, refer him to me; and let him guard his tongue well. or he will learn to his coat that the last of the Darrells it not one whit behind him an- easier in ayenging an insulf, ” Ilma had herself too high spirit to rebuke the fierce temper of her haughty lover ; but the mention of Roland had brought to her the first thought of the time; and now she and- denly pointed_upyvards to a gap in the trees. “ Philip," she éaid, “ see how late the day is rowing. Aunt Rachel will have returned, and will wonder where I am. I must go game. How far is this from South Ab- ot ? " “ Too for you to go yet,” replied Sir Philip. “ Nay, sweetheart, a little longer! I can‘ not at; goon yie)d my first tsfstqof Elygimp.” And Ilma suffered him to lead her farther onwards, away from the entrance to the glen. The sun was sinking towards the western hor- izon when Dark Danell and his golden haired love came forth from the deep shadows of the Abbot’s Vale. Lending Hassan, he walked with Illna almost tothe villagsJeaving her where he could see the slight foot flitting onwards to the very gates of the Grange gar- den. Turning when he had nearly reached this point, she saw him still standing motionless by his horse. watching her; and as she turned, he kissed his hand to her It was barely eleven o’clock when Roland Sabine went to the Grange, only to learn that Miss Ilma was out; and had left no message. No message ! Had she forgotten her promise to him 2 Roland ground his teeth ; but, hiding his wrath from the servant. he said he would wait till Miss Dumford returned. The old lady came back before one. She knew nonhing of Ilmn; doubtless she would be m during .he afternoon. Roland departed, and at three called ag ain. Ilma had not yet returned. Miss Dumford had flattered her- self that. the girl was at the Latches ; but. the young Squire’s appearance made her anxious. Wnat could have become of the child ? She could never have stayed away so long on purpose. Roland shared her anxiety, and went off or. once to make inquiries about Ilma. He turned his steps first tcward the river, and was just approaching the lock bridge, when he saw Zeph coming down the slope. She stopped the mom‘ent she saw Roland; and, as he came fiowards her. she looked into his face with a wicked flash and laughed. “ You can keep off,” she said shoruy ; “ and you needn’t_t1'y tq’hide what you're after. It's Dark Darrell's lady-love you were going to ask about, I know." " Don’t ‘ dear Zeph ’ me!“ intei‘rupted the girl fiercely. stamping her foot. ” You’d drown me as soon as look at me if you dared. or see me drown, which is the next thing to it.‘ It’s that golden-haired foieigu cousin of yours you are in love with ; and all the pretty things you said to me count for nothing now. But you won’t get her. Didn't I know Sir Philip would have hot when I saw her riding the Arab 7" “ Dear Z- eph, ” began Roland, “ if you have seenâ€" " Zeph, are you mad ?” cried Roland hoarse- ly. " What do you mean ?” " Oh, I may suffer,” retorted the undaunted girl ; " but you must not wail: an instant to know what the girl you love is about ! You may talk to me. and tell me you love me. and give me things, and there is no harm done ; as if I; had no heart, and need not mind seeing you throwing me over direoty 9. Beauty from foreign parts comes your way! ‘l‘ie no uaejg gmil Mt. Sabine; you have treated Ideas 11' m 1 would not have done, ‘ whatever his ancestor did. He's a. noble gen- tleman anyhow, rind he'd never foul with an honest girl he couldn’t marry, as you have done. You needn‘t worry after Miss llma; she’s chosen a handsomer lover than youâ€"- he. he! She’s been dreeing her weird while you’ve been hunting the woods for her. She‘s not afraid of Sir Philip‘s kisses, I‘ll warrant; she‘d rather die with him than live with you." Ilma, kneeling at her chamber windowmnw that cloud too. and bowed her sunny head ; and she prayedâ€"uh, how earnes 1y iâ€"with bitter tears for her lover. She had not told her aunt of her interview With Sir Philip Darrell. The old lady had received her with the joy of one relieved from keen anxiety , and she had told Ilma that Roland had called 1mm», n8 had 3pm ‘6 wank for her: Rm He would rather have seen Ilma Costello stretched dead at his feet than happy in a. rival 5 arms. Femful as the thought was he did not put it from him, or even my to do so. He nursed it with a fierce triumph, and even noted with a grim satiafecuion, as he at length walked homewards through the night. thngu a heavy cloud hung solitary in the heavens, otherwise clear, which sremod to brood over the river. and that. the air was close and heavy‘ In a few daysâ€"«it might be a. week. it might be lessâ€"the floods would be out! “Zeph.” said Roland. grasping the girl’s wrist, “tell me what you know. Are you talking like this to torture me. or do you mean that Ilma Costello has fled with Dar: rell ?” “Oh, no l” replied Zeph quietly. “ Maybe she's home now; but I saw them on the road together twenty minutes ago; he was leading his horse and she was by his side. Drop your hand, Mr. Sabine; you but me. Just a bit above the village they stopped and said good- bye. He didn’t kiss her then, though there was nobody by that they could see; but he stood still where she’d left him and watched her. When she’d gone on a bit, she looked back, and he kissed his hand to her. You don't like it. eh ?” -~ for Roland stamped his foot. and. with a terrible impreeation. ground it on the path. “ Well. go and tell him so; but you can’t save her if she loves him; you know that." Zeph’s eyes flashed. She sprang forward sad grasped the young man’g hand. , " Count on me,”she said. “ I hate her as you hate him. and will hate her when she acorns you; for she will. Ay”â€"â€"e.s Roland shook off her hand her voice rose almost to a shriekâ€"“ it’s of no use. Roland Sabine I If she loves Philip Darrell, she must die; and you know it. You take her from him ! Ha, ha l”â€"and she laughed long and loudly. Before the echo of her laughter had died away, Roland was hundreds of yards from the spot, speeding he knew not whither. Not homewards, fox he dared not be seen there ; nor to the Grange, for he could not meet lime. in her aunt’s presence. He dashed into the woods, and there remained till long after darkness had fallen. now walking wildly to and fro, now lying on the ground in a. chaos of thought that made him feel at times as if his reason were leaving him. He never doubted that Ilma had met Sir Philip Darrell by appointment: and she had either forgot» ten her promise to himself 01‘ had deliberately ignored it. He swore again that she should be his. or die with the lover she had pie- fened to him. In Roland Sabine’s nature there was a fermity that no one would suspect who saw in him a frank. perhaps at times sullen tem- pered, North-Country squire. His love was, after all, a selfish passion ; it was incapable of selfisncrifice. What he desired to possess should be his or should belong to no one else ; rather would he destroy What he v'nlued than allow another to have it. He had displayed this trait oven as a lad. He had shot a. favor- ite pointer 1hat had acq tired troublesome tricks rather than allow a, neighbor with whom he was on bad terms to have the animal; ' ‘ " By the heavens above. he shall not have her!" smd Roland, in blind fury. ”I will take her from him, or they shall perish to. gather! I swear it!” CHAPTER X. had been very penitent ; but she had only said that. she had been for a. long ramble and did not know how the time had passed - which was strictly true : and Miss Durnforél had been satisfied with the'explanalion. But now the old lady could not sleep, for she saw the black cloud hanging in the sultry sky ; and she stole sohly to Ilma’l chamber and opened the door. The girl started up from the window and came to meet hat. " Auntie I” “ My dear child." said Miss Durniord, “ it is past eleven. and you are not even un- dressed. What Are you doing by the open windows?” ' “ Watching that cloud, auntie. I am not tired.” Misa Dumtord could not see the speaker’: face distinctly in the dusk of the apartment; but she drew the shght form. towards her and said gentlyâ€" “ I cannot sleep tonight, and I came to see if you were wakeful too. My hearts fails me" â€"a.nd her voice falfleredâ€"“ when I think of Sithhilip Duranâ€"still atrthe Court." ilma gently disengaged herself from her aunt’s embrace, and went back to the window, not kneeling down this time. but standing with her forehead resting against the glass. Presently she said softly, without looking round to where her aunt still stoodâ€" “ I do not believe in the curse, auntie.” “ Ilma dear." returned Miss Dumford. “ you must not mind my saying this, that I hope you are not speaking so because you do not wish to believe in misfortune coming to Sir Philip Darrell. I mean, I hope you do not think too much of him. You understand me ?" “ Y1 s, auntie; I understand." Miss Durnford paused; but Ilma said no more; and the 'old lady felt disappointed. Why could not the child be frank with her? Surely, she thought, in fear and perplexity. nothing had passed between Ilma and Sir Philip? If there had been anything. the child ought to tell her. Miss Durn- ford did not know how difficult is such confidence to a sensitive nature. even if willingly offered, and Ilma was not willing. The secret belonged to herself and Sir Philip. for the present at least. Its reve- lation could only make her aunt unhappymnd perhaps angry. Why should any one know ? So the girl stood silent. “ Ilma," said Miranl Durnfotd. -‘ you make me anxious. You are not open wi‘h me, as you should be. I do not want to blame you; Sir Philip is a. most fascinating man, and it would be nothing strange if you had allowed him to engage your fancy. Fancy â€"â€"wben $116 .very sound of his mime thrilled through every nerve! But the girl shrank from the prim phraaeolonzy, and fall that she could not give her confidence; be- aides. had she a right to do so? It w’as true that her lover had no‘ uttered 9. word that im- plied he desired secrecy: but she would not -- indeed she could notâ€"speak of what seemed to her too solemn and sacred to be talked about. “Auntie,” she Enid pleadinglyâ€"und there were tears in the sweet young voiceâ€"“ please do not ask me any questions to-night -an- other time perhaps, but not now. Don’t think me unkind or ungrateful; butI couldn‘t say anything to-nighp." . Miss Durniord sighed heavily. “ You American girls." she said sadly, “ are so independent, I cannot understand you. When I was your age. I sought my maths '3 help when I was in trouble; but you fig 1: your own battles at seventeen. Good night. dear; go to bed and try to get some sleep." Philip DIE-nu m mm um “1:935:53 Ilma was alone again. Independent? Yes, doubtless she was; yet somehow she did not now feel the need of even a mother; and a mother, she arguedâ€"she had never known her ownâ€"was something that the kindest of aunts could not be. Her lover seemed all- sufficient. “ ‘ Father to me thou art, and mother deer, And brat-her too, kind husband of my heart! So spanks Andromeche.” The miller expressed no regret for the im pending destruction of his property. He had amassed a good sum of money, and could easily reinstate himself elsewhere ; and other feelings which might have clung round the inheritance of his fathers seemed to be all but obliterated by the grim satisfaction with which he contemplated a ruin that would include. as he believed, that of the last representa- tive of false Sir Ingelhard. and which would fulfil the curse. He said little indeed, but glanced anxiously at five: and sky. and once remarked- “ Maybe this’ll be Dark Dan-611’s last night on earth; the Mill won't be there at sunrise to morrow.” Ahd so spoke llma. Even with regard to Roland Sabine she felt strongerâ€"she still dreaded him. but not so much. She might have spoken to her aunt, and so avoided an interview with him; but this idea did not. occur to her. She could, in her fear. run away from him altogether ; but to ask any one to interpoae on her behall was contrary to her nature; and, after all, she thought, Roland had a. right to see her. Germinly she would not seek an interview, but she would no longer avoid it._ At the tum of the night the rain came. It fell suddenly, like a vast sheet of water from the heavens. with the roar and bias of 2 cats- ract. It beat down the flowers in the gar- dens ; it laid flat the corn in the fields ', it converted many a. dry mountain watercourse into a brawliug stream. Villagers, startled out of their sleep by the pouring of the tot- rent. drew back their curtains and gazed forth in terror; and the thoughts of all turned to the grand old castelleted mansion of the Dar- rela and its doomed lord. No one liked the Heston; . so. even in his present extremity, Job could obtain little‘help but what he paid for. He knew that if he had sent up to the Court Sir Philip would have diapatcheda gang of laborers to aid him; but Job would not be “beholden" to Sir Philip for nothing. “ Why," replied Benton steadly, "‘ he’ll die and the foreign missy too. You saw her with him to-day, Zaph. I knew how it would be ; hers is the life for which he’ll lose his. It’ll come about somehow. They ’11 toll the great bell in the chap 6] for the last of the Darrells before Sunday comes round again." Job Heston arose and went to his daugh ter’s chamber and knocked at the door. “ Lass, lass. get up and look at the rain ! It has not fallen like this fbr more than twgrlty yepra. The storm began to lessen at three o “clock but the rain still fell in torrents till nearly midday; and mt that time the Ooalmere was rushing rapidly between its green banks,a swollgp and angry tide. “ The water’s risen more’n two feet dime six o’clock this morning,” said ihe old look- man to Zeph. “ If I was your father, I’d clear out of the Mill; for that’s 3 no saying what muy happen if the min comes again to- nighg .35... 11: _did last night. " EarLy in the afternoon it became known that Job Heston and his daughter were trans- ferrriug all movables from the Mill to places of safety on the South Abbot side of the river, household goods being deposited with a rela five of Job's late wife, who was only In cousin, though Zeph onlled him “uncle.” The girl was at the door 111 an instafit. with a white scared face. “ Father, is the Mill sale ?" “ Ay, for to-night. yes ; but, Zeph, if it rains like this for two nights more. the river will be over its banks. and this time the Mill will gen} 7 *‘ And Dark Darrell ?" said Zeph, in a. low tone. after a pause, filled up by the rush of the rain. mingled with and almost drowning the roar of the weir. “ We‘ll have to 35 to uncle’s yonder." returned erh gloomily. pointing across the bridge. - “ And I’d see to it before nightfall if I was you," said the lookman. “ I’d warrant the lord’s life as soon as I’d warrant the Mill to- night if the min comes on heavy ; and, once the floods are out, how’ll you get away, even if the Mill don’t goâ€"and ifs bound to ‘3" Ifgthing hgt the rain and the fate of Sir CHAPTER XI. at the Latches. Roland’s face on the night‘ before had plainly showed that something was very wrong; but he had vouchsefed not a word of explanation, going straight .10 his room; and now he was equally uncommuni- native. He sat at the table while the buzz of talk went on around him, and did not utter a. word. His appetiteâ€"usually heartyâ€"had deserted him. He drank eagerly, as if con- sumed by thirst, but ate nothing; and his mother and sisters arrived at the conclusion that he had seen Ilms, spoken to her, and been rejected. . Rose tried strenuously to banish ‘_Sit Philip’s name from the conversation, and ‘sueaeeded partially, but not entirely.. Directly after breakfast Roland withdraw to his study, and locked the door; and no one ventured to intrude upon his solitude. The heavy fall" of rain till noon frustrated his orig- inal intention of seeking Ilmain the morning: bufi, as soon as it abated, he sallied forth ; and. as he crossed the hall, Bose rushed up to him breathless. " Roland, Roland. have you heard ‘2” “ Heard what ?” said her brother roughly. “ I have heard nothing.” - " Why, Job Heston is leaving the mill 1 It is said that if it mine to-night as it did last. night the floods will be so great that the mill will be washed away,” “ Ah, by Heaven -â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"-"‘ Roland paused suddenly, and a. look came into his face that made 1113 sister recoilâ€"a look she remembered afterwards. and read rightly than; now it only filled her with a vague hornet. _ "7‘ Roland!” she cried. in a tone that startle‘ him into self-recollection. “ Sci," he said musingly, ” the Mill is duomed? Well. Rose, I am going to see how things are ; and I will step down and have a talk with Job." He passed out, mounted his horse, and roie away. When he reached the Gnimza. he asked for Miss Costello. She was at. heme. the servant told him, but Miss Dumford was out. This was just what Roland desired; and he entered the drawing room, and waited with a beating heart for Ilma. Would she run away ~from him a second time ? No ! He heard a light step in the oak passage, the door opened, and the girl entered. She looked deathly white, and there was a latent dread in her large eyes : but the curved lips and firm brow showed nothing but resolve. She drew back as Roland came forward eagerly, and held 011' her hand. as if by that action to deny him any other aalutatiens until she knew whether he returned it as lover or as cousin. Roland paused. F‘IWell.” be said, with a. forced laugh. which the angry flush in his cheeks and the fierce gleam in his eyes belied, " are we atraqgers ?" " No, Roland.” The girl coXored deeply. and her eyes fell. “ I am sorry about yester day. I don’t want. to make excuses. I did no‘ forget my piomise to you." “You need not. apologise,” returned her cousin, declining the proffered hand. “I know why you broke your promise ; and it is not worth while to ask whether your other promise was made before I said good-bye to you the oflrer night or afterwards.” He had not told Zegh the whole truth when he had enlisted her services ; he had not told her that Ilmn. should have one clmnoe for her life, and that that chance was to fly with him ; he had only told her the alternative, as :though it were the entire scheme; and. if Ilnw. chose that, his crime would perish with her. The Hestons dared not be- tray him, . for his guilt was theirs, and Zeph regarded herself as in some sort an instrument to fulfill the curse of her anoestress. Moreover, in speaking to her first, he had filled her foolish undisciplined heart with with wild hopes for the future, till he gave the girl cause to think that he would some day make her his wife. What the result would be when Zuph found herself deceived Roland did not ask himself ; he was not a man who at the hostel times was able to fore- cast beyond a short period. or to hedge round any contemplated misdeed with safe. guards ; and now he was in no condition of mind ('01 even ordinary precaution: Had. “ Other promise! What do you mean ?" said the girl haughtily. “ I made no other promise. I went out to avoid you; that is tha plain truth â€"nothing more." “ Very well, then : I wronged you," an- swered Roland, who did not doubfi his young, cousin’s truth. If Ilma had made an appoint- ment with Darrell, she might have refused to answer questions ; but she would never have stooped to untruth. “ I thought you had promised Sir Philip Darrell to meet him ; for you were with him. You were seen walking along the road with him._’-‘ " What then?" said Ilma. “ Is that so new or very strange a. thing to do ? Have I nave;- walked or ridden with Sir Philip before? What is it to you or to any one else in this place what I do or where I go?" “ It is everything to me, Ilma,” cried the young man, " if Darrell isâ€"us 1 believe he is â€"your lover! No; you shall hear me! You know that I love you; and I can give you what he, with all his beauty and his wealth, and his intellect, cannot give youâ€"happiness l Sneer as you will. you cannot shake off all faith in that terrible curse. You must believe that to love him is fatalâ€"â€"” Then Roland turned back towards the vil- lage, but not homewards. He went no farther than a deserted barn a little way up the slope , and there he sat down, with the wide land- scape of hill and wold and river before him, and his heart full of a foul denim that he scarcely cared even to try to veil with a euphemism. “ Never liked me. never trusted me l" echoed Roland, drawing back a step. His face was livid ; the look in his eyes made the girl tremble inwardly. though she showed nothing of this in her fearless mein and dauutless gaze; “ Then you love Philip Darrell, and he loves you ?” ‘~ Then how can you save me ‘1" interrupted Ilma. with flashing eyes. “ If I love him, it is too lateâ€"I must share his fate.” “ Love 7 No, no,” said Roland almost wildly; “ it is not loveâ€"only fancy. You are captivated by his graces ; his very doom excited your interest. He is a dantard to have tried to win you ; and he tried from the beginning. Look back, and you will see that I am not unjust to him. He threw himself in your way : he gave you a costly gift, such as no man would have given to a girl he did not want to lay under an obligation to him. Did he mean nothing by those flowers, noth- ing byâ€"â€"â€"” He laughed again. and. dashing open the door. rushed from the room and the house. leaving Ilma in the full belief that his mind was unhinged. ' An hour later Roland Sabine stood in the little Wood near the Goalmere. talking in low tones to Job and Zeph Heston; and,as the trio parted. Zeph nodded with a. resolute look of evil in her black eyes, and said, “ All right ; I’ll do it ;” and Job dropped some money into his pocket and said, “ Agreed will one to me, 511'." “ Stop. stop. Roland ! I will not listen to you! How dare you speakjso to me of Philip Darrell ?” The slender girl seemed transformed into a woman, as she stood erect, with stem brow and commanding gesture, never more superbly beautiful than now. “ Leave me; you have said too much alâ€" ready. I should not have loved you if I had never seen Sir Philip Darrellj never liked you, never trusted you ; and you have proved that my instinct_wes right." “ Yes, I suppose you have a right tochoose your fate. Yours is a fair life to win from him the ‘needful sacrifice.’ A man might Welllose all for you. Yours will be merry marriage-chimes. Ha, hal Tell them not to toll the. minute bell when they bring the last Darrell home with his bride l No, I am not mad ; you need not recoil with that whim face. It will be whiter to-morrow be- fore this time I" " Why’ should I deny it ! Even if his fate is sealed by a gipsy-woman’s curse, am I not free to choose death with rather than life withoup him ‘2” Roland stood still for a moment, gazing on the beautiful girl before him. He felt as if he could strike her; but. not so should his vengeance be worked out. Suddenly he burst into a. discordant laugh. Sir Philip Darrell at that moment appeared before bun, he would moat likely have sprung at him with the fel'acinus instinct of a wild beast, and without a. secend’a considenation of his inferiority to his; antagonist or of the con- sequences to himaelf if even he succeeded in taking the hated life. Smrtling was fine change that evil passions had wrought in the young man in a. few hours. His cheek was livid and haggard, his nether lip was drooping, and his eyes were wild and bloodshot -, any one who had seen him seated in that dreary place, with his elbows on his knees and his hand proping his chin, might well have deemed that he had com- mitted er‘oonigemplated some desdly crime, Although the rain had ceased at South} Abbot, it was pouring down over the label? hills, and the storm might sweep over South- Abbot again that night The river rose" steadily; and numbers of village“ watehed‘ anxiously the progress of the floods, and pte- . dicted that whether the ruin came or not the river would certainly overflow at the‘ tub of the night, if not before ; though what mysterious influence the midnight hour had upon tides _and currents was not explained. Black and heavy the clouds rolled up from the west, till the whole sky was one black canopy. beneath which the river rushed foam- mg and roaring ; and against the inky back: ground the doomed M'Lll stood out white and ghgatlflie. _ Just, when darkness had fallen on the scene, two figures came out from the wood and. passed down to the lock bridge. and one â€"-a .nan’a figureâ€"vanished in the shadow; me other ran swiftly towards the Grange gar- den. which, at the back of the house. snatched to within a few hundred yards of the river._ As Zephâ€"for it was she â€"â€"drew near to the gate of the garden, her keen eyes detected 3 tom standing just without; and her vengeful hear gave a glad bound. The next moment llma had sprung forward, and Zeph was Jaming for breath, pressing her hand t .‘ her side. “ What is it? What is the matter?" asked the Canadian hurriedly, her thoughts flying matamly to Roland, who had left he: in so distraught. a state of mind. In readin I of thebarbarity practised by un- civilized nations with whom we come in con- tact, we are by comparison disposed to credit ourselves with much more humanity than we possess. In proof of this we have only to turn back a few years and take into account the burning of the American dead after the lattle oi Lundy’s Lane, the shooting of plun- dering wild Indians on the night of the battle, and on the follgwing morning. who were out: allies. I do not call upon published history (or these accounts, for I have them direct from eyewitnesses who were engaged in the battle. We may turn also to the conduct of our Yankee cousins. who, at the battle of the Thames, out long slips of skin from the thighs of the dead body, as they supposed of meg great chief Tecumseh. to be carried home and converted into razor strops. Perhaps it ‘will be as well at this time to say that the 1supposed body of Tecumseh was that of some; i inferior chief. Col. Johnson, alawyer, who had been all of six weeks in the service. was seriously wounded, and being placed in a halt reclining position against the foot or a tree, was left alone. Directly after a stalwart chief, dressed in Indian style, in buckskin and feathers, approached, tomahawk in hand. Johnson had barely strength to level his pistol and fire; the savage tell dead. Now, I have, been told by reliable persons, who had ample opportunities of knowmg, that this chief was not Tecumseh, as American history repre- sents, for he was at that battle dressed as a British field officer, and was accidentally shot by one of his own men as he rode up in front of them while they were lying in the grass and occasionally firing at the enemy. “â€"â€" 0130 of ‘Bret Harte's stones has been dramatized and placed upon the stage a} Ber- lin under the title of “ Tbb Lost Son." but it has not met with much success. The Get- mans say that the uuxhor’e humor is notfitled for stage representation, and. that scenes of dissipation, which can be efiectively and humorously described in a. narrative. become repulsive when an ultempt is made to act â€"Mrs. Leopold de Rozhschihi has a. new necklace which, although it is only a ‘single X‘OW of pearls, is valued at $100,000. One of her husband’s bridal gifts was a pleasant lictle sum of 32.500 Ior distribution among the: Jewmh charities at Vienna. A correspondent writes to the PM! Matt Gazette : There is nothing more irritating and annoying in the discussions now so universal as to the Irish question than the equally uni- versal want of accurate acquaintance with the. reelfacts and figures contained in the authé n~~ tic statistics of Ireland. Attention was lately called in your paper to the absurd delusion. which has so taken hold of the public mindas- to the improvidence and fruitfulness of Irish marriages. There is another delusion, not lesm prevalent. that Ire-land is a. country occupiedx substantially by wretchedly small peasant. farmers. Will the following (which is an: abstract taken from the agricultural statistics« of Ireland issued from the geneml register:- office for 1877) have any effect in dissipating that delusion : Occupiers Amount. ‘ 50,322 {garden patches under...... 1 new 62,104 romi. 1 to 5 nora- 272,30~2. from 65,722 from“ ” ,569 from” 20,696 from.. 9,697 from“ 2,413 from.. 5 to 30 acres 0 to 50 acres . 50 to 100 acre: .it)() to 20: acre: .200 to 500 acre: and nnwnzflm «The uncertainty of meal taking brings with it a craving for stimulants. To return. the Indian like all wild men, has. simply, perhaps a natural code of laws; much after the style of the ancient Israelites, where we find an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, the rule ;" consequently the wild India: (not our Massissagas, 'who came here from the Mohawk and Central New York, and who were far advanced in civilization) were dis- posed to carry away openly, from the settlers, whatever their wants directed or their laney might suggest ; and as there was no possibilâ€" ity of the whites retaliating in kind the wild man came to think that the white man’s property was free to be plundered when he had the power to carry it away. These aggression- during. and immediately after the war. were continued so long that forbearance gave way to vengeance. Several dead bodies of Indians were discovered in a swamp, on a mountain. above the village of Stoney Creek. A legal investigation was attempted ; some of the most respectable people were suspected of complicity in their murder. but, through ob stacles thrown in the way by many who had sufiered from Indian depredations, nothing of any moment was solicited. Still the dire-_ ful hatred towards the Wild Indian continued; and on one occasion a spirited young fellow, who had served his country in several battles ~whose intrepidity and valor were undoubted._ fell from his high estate when passing an Inn dian camp on the brow of the mountain. midi seizing hold of an Indian cradle to which a pappoose was bound in the usual manner, dashed the child's brains out against a‘ tree. He was immediately pursued by a number of Indiana. He was quite as fleet of foot as they were, and knowing right well the locality. made his escape over a precipice near the: Stoney Creek Falls, down which his pursue:- aurst not venture. A few shots were fired at him, to which he replied with defiant ges- At length, “ Lo. the poor Indian,” finding occasionally the dead body of a comrade, and being unable to cope with the whites, and. dreading the vengeance of their great father, King George, should they retaliate, decamped‘, and retiring to their far away home in the northwest, left the‘- Macnssa hunting and fishing grounds to the white man, and the peaceful and orderly Massissngas. HANS. Feb. 15th, 1881. tures. THE TENANTS OF IRELAND, HANS' REMINISCENCES. [TO BE CONTINUED.) 5 to 30 acres , 30 to 50 acres . 50 to 100 acre: J00 to 20: acre: .200 to 500 acre: 500111111 upward: 5 acre- 30 acres 50 acrel 100 acre: 20: acre: