-nnii, "" " - .- , , Ml ,111.11 null,. ,nmm mi...,.,,,..!! rriiii.i.. j.uum - - I i I in .... n i i r mr i i m iiiiim r.i I i-i-rtn-Tr-r' i ,nir in ii - 'i" .! J'-li ;v .,,s. VOL. Xlll. jNTEW BLOOMPIELD, IA..t TUESDAY, DEOEMBEK 1(3, 1871). NO. 51. THE TIMES. in Independent Family Newspaper, 18 PUnUBniD BVIRT TUBSDAT BT P. MOltmiEtt & CO. SUHSCItU'TION riltl'E, (WITHIK THB COVHTT.) On Ynaf i 2n Sli Mouths 75 tour or ins countt.) On Year, (Postage Included) ) fO 8lx Mouths, (Postage Included) 85 Invariably lu Advance I 9 Advertising rates (urnished upon amill eatlon. The Battle for the Cedars. BY" PltESSLY W. SIOIIKIS. CONTINUED. . EVANS had hla way. Though the master of The Cedars raged and stormed for a while, the end of it all Was, that Mr. Arthur Evans was to be sent to Baltimore to consult Mr. Wylie as to what arrangements the new claim ant would nialte, and forever surrender her right, If Bhe iosse9sed any, in the estate of the late Herbert Cashel, de ceased. Mr. Arthur Evans ascended the steps of an attorney's office in Baltimore. A gilt-lettered sign bore the names of " Wylie & Oldham." Evaus rang the door-bell. An oftlce-boy answered his summons. " Is Mr. Wylie iu ?" was his question, handing his card. " Walk in, and I will see," said the boy politely. Evans entered, and the boy gave him a seat. Several clerks were writing bus ily. The boy disappeared, but returned in a few moments. Mr. Wylie will see you in his private office, sir," he said to Evans, who fol lowed him as he led the way into the lawyers presence. Mr. Wylie glanced up from some writing with which he was engaged, and then laid down his pen. " Pray be seated," he said, glancing once more at the card he still held in his band. He had been" wondering whether or not Mr. Arthur Evans, attorney at law, had been sent by the master of The Ce llars. His curiosity was soon satisfied ; for Evans at once plunged Into the subject that had brought him hither. " I have come as the representative of Mr. Lionel Cashel of The Cedars," he 'began. Mr. Wylie's brow contracted for a mo ment, but only for a moment. Then his face was clear again. " Proceed," he said. " He Informs me," Evans continued, " that you are the attorney of a claimant or the estate of the late Herbert Cashel." " I am," Mr. Wylie replied. Evans hesitated. He was at a stick-ing-point. But he founds words pres ently, and proceeded. " Inasmuch as litigation, which I sup pose may be long continued, will cer tainly involve the estate, Mr. Lionel Cashel authorizes me to enter into some reasonable compromise. Of course, it Is expected by him that I will not go too far." Mr. Wylie's eyes sparkled. "What does Mr. Cashel propose?" asked be, with a smile that Evans fan cied did not augur well for the success of his mission. "As his attorney, I will say that the young lady shall be assured or a comfort able competence," Evans returned, "provided she will relinquish all claims to the tstate. This upon condition that the proofs be-eubmltted tea disinterested attorney, qualified to decide the matter. If he decide that theelalmant has even a shadow of a chance, nay elient will per form what I Indicate." Mr. Wylie's face flushed. "It amuses me," he said, "to know, that, after all this bravado, Mr. Cashel is .getting frightened." Then he added, cuttingly: "The proofs have been submitted to .me, Mr. Evans; and my decision is that your client has nob even the ghost of a prospect of holding the Cashel estates when the' matter shall be tested by Jus tice. 'I assure you that It Is mere folly .to think that-she to whom the estate actually belongs can be bought off with a mere tithe of her rights. I should sup pose ihttt, If your client were an honest man, he would desire to return to the daughter of Herbert Cashel the property he holds by vlrlueof a collateral rela tionship. Why should he desire to take advantage of her misfortunes and of her having been hitherto unknown. Why should he wish to Intrench himself be hind the mere fact of passession, and buttle against the rightful owner of the Cashel estate?" "But"- "Mlss Cashel has placed this whole matter iu my hands," Mr. Wylie Inter rupted; "and I beg to assure you, Mr. EvaUB, that if your client had displayed the disposition and inteiitious of a gen tleman, he would have been allowed a comfortable competence from the prop erty. But he threw down the gauntlet; he defied us; he cried, "N6 quarter." Now he shall abide by his fli'Bt choice, and he can expect nothing whatever from us. He challenged us to go to a court of law, and there we propose to have the matter tested. I speak as I do, knowing that it must be decided there. I never beheld Mr. Lionel Cashel but once. However, I am not so blind that I cannot read, especially when the page Is opened for me." "Then you lake the grounds of no com prom IseV" "No compromise whatever," returned Mr. Wylie. "Mr. Lionel Cashel can surrender the estate now, or when he is compelled. As I have indicated, I am well aware that he will not surrender it till he Is compelled." "No, not till he is compelled. And let me tell you, Bir, that you are boasting too soon. It will be no easy matter to convince u court of justice that the daughter of Herbert Cashel has been kept concealed for twenty years. It -Is rather late in the day for a person to come forward and claim a great estate on such grounds. And her claims may be treated as preposterous by sensible men. Good-day, sir." And, with these words uttered, Mr. Art bur Evans left the law-office of Wylie & Oldham. "It Isn't my habit to talk so much," said Mr. Wylie to himself after Evans was gone; "but believing both those fel lows to be scamps, I was a little carried away by my feelings." His face grew thoughtful. "My only fear Is that they may heat us by some rascality," he continued in his thoughts. "Still, I will not compro mise with rascals for fear of their rascal ity. And I know, as well as that oily Evans did, that they would consent to nothing within the bounds of reason. It would be a mere waste of breath to talk with them upon thesubject of a compro mise." ( Mr. Arthur Evaus was forced to an nounce to the master of The Cedars that his mission had been a failure. "By the heart of Pluto !" that person swore, "old Wylie and his client will not gain anything by their stubbornness. I will give them so bitter a fight that they will wish, before they are through, that they had never entered Into law against me. Demanding the Cashel estate and obtaining it will be two entirely differ ent matters, as they will discover to their sorrow." A week later, the master of The Ce dars received the first legal notice In the case of Cashel versua Cashel. And It was shortly afterward that Bar bara Llndsley had come to visit the De Veres. The master of The Cedars was driving rapidly along the hard, level road that ran through his estate and down past residence of the De Veres. The animal that he was driving was a large black horse, superbly formed.and with glisten Ing skin. Evidently he was wild and fiery. The servants at The Cedars shook their heads every time the master took his seat behind him. " Better take some other beast," they would mutter. " Dat brack villain '11 be de death ob him yet." But the mutterings and head-shakings were all unheeded. The horse and driver were passing De Vere's residence. Generally, the man kept his eyes upon the beast ; but as it chanced, just at this time his bead was bowed In thought. Suddenly a dog sprang out by the roadside, with a growl. The horse leaped away with a bound, the lints were Jerked from his driver's Lands. The animal took the bit in his teeth and dashed onward badly. But he had run scarcely firty yards when the vehicle struck ft tree, standing by the side of the road. There was a crash, a moment of struggling and pain, then darkness shadowed the vision of the master of The Cedurs. Robert De Vere had seen the accident. He came running down the avenue, and sprang through the gates. He reached the shattered carriage, and bentover the man lying prostrate there. The horse had continued on his course, taking a portion of the vehicle wfclh him. The period of unconsciousness of the master of The Cedurs whs of brief dura tion. He opened his eyes and tried to raise himself to his feet. But he sank back with a groan. "Satan take that beast?" he cried savagely. " Be quiet," said Robert De Vere to him, " and I will have ansistauce shortly." Robert ran back to the avenue gate. Victoria had just come out of the house and stood upon the piazza. " Send some of the servants to me," he said; " au injured man is lying In the road." Victoria re-entered the house. Robert hastened back. " Do you feel as though you are very severely hurt?" he asked of the master of The Cedars, as he lifted his head Into an easier position than that which It had occupied. " I do not know," was the answer with a groan. " My right leg feels as though It were broken. Curse the devil of a horse t" Several negro men appeared upon the scene. The master of The Cedars was lifted in their arms, and carefully car ried to the house. When they reached it, he was laid upon a couch, and one of the men was hastily mounted and dis patched for a physician. " Go for Dr. Gower," Robert De Vere said. " Be speedy." The servant had a ride of three miles and back to perform. Consequently, it was fully an hour before Dr. Gower came. Meantime, Robert De Vere examined the injuries of the master of The Cedars. He was severely bruised, but his wounds were not dangerous. His right ankle was sprained, instead of the limb being broken. When Dr. Gower did appear he found there was very little that he could do, additional to what Robert had already done. " You have done nobly," he said to Robert. " I compliment you as being a very good surgeon." Dr. Gower decided that the injured man Could not be taken to his home for a few days. A couple of days after the accident the man was able to lean on Robert De Vere, and, by that means, walk into the par lor. Thus far the servants, assisted by Robert, had attended to his wants. Robert had been with him most of the time. As It chanced, Victoria De Vere was In the parlor. As Victoria had not be fore beheld the master of The Cedars there was an Introduction. " I am very sorry that you were so unfortunate, Mr. Cashel," Victoria mur mured. He gave the sweet face of the young girl an admiring glance. "Thank you," he returned. "I have been warned that the animal of mine will kill me, but I never paid much at tention to the warnings." "But you will heed this last one," smiled Victoria. " Yes. However, I will not promise to heed It so much as to cease driving that horse ; it that case, it would seem as though he had conquered me. But I will watch him closely In the future, de pend upon It." Theu he detailed to Victoria the man ner In which the accident had occurred. There was nothing llger-llke in his ex pression now. He was laughing, and seemed frank and pleasant. He con gratulated himself that there was one favorable thing about his acoldent It had made him acquainted with these pleasant people. ' The subject of conversation was chang ed, And the minute fled rapidly. Pres ently the master of The Cedars asked for some music. Victoria complied with his request, playing several pieces. He applauded her. "My playing will not compare with that of Miss Llndsley, a guest of ours," Victoria said. "You should hear her piny!', " Where is Miss Llndsley this after noon ?" Robert asked. "I have scarcely seen ber during the day." " I dare say she is in her room," Vic toria replied. She may be ill. If Mr. Cashel will excuse me, I will go and search for her, and will persuade her to come and entertain him with some of her delightful music." And with a bow Victoria left the apartment. As Bhe had anticipated, she found Barbara In her room. She was sit ting with her face bowed in her hands, in deep thought. Victoria entered with out knocking. " Are you ill, Barbara," she asked, as Miss Llndsley raised her head. " Not at all," was the reply. " I was only thinking-" " I have taken it upon myself," Vic toria exclaimed," to promise Mr. Cashel, who Is the parlor, some music at your hands. Will you enable me to keep my promise ?" A little deeper tinge of color than usual dyed Barbara cheeks. Then she said : " To be sure, Victoria's promise shall be kept." As she followed Victoria her thought was, " I'd as well meet him now as any time. At any rate, he will have no idea who I am 1" Soon the two girls were In the parlor. " Miss Llndsley, Mr. Cashel," said Victoria simply. The man bowed, and felt a thrill of pleasure. He had admired Victoria! But what a beautiful, magnificent, in comparable creature this was !" " It would be worth a llfe-timeof labor to win her I" he thought. Barbara took her place at the piano. She had paled a little, but was not em barrassed. She was master of the in strument, and never in her life had she played better than op this afternoon. The master of The Cedars, bad man though he was, felt the power of her music." Barbara ceased. The eyes of the mas ter of The Cedars met hers. His heart beat a more rapid motion. Instinctive ly she turned her face away with a chilled sensation. In those first mo ments of acquaintance her soul warned her truly, and thought came to her that whatever fate might work out for this man and her, she could never like him. Conversation was resumed. Shortly, dinner was announced. The day passed, A few more like it sped. Then the mas ter of The Cedars was able to go to bis home. ," Do not drive that wild horse of yours any more," were almost the last words Victoria said to him. " I think I shall," he returned. " I will have to prophecy," Victoria crid, half gayly, half seriously. " Prophecy, Miss De Vere!" " I warn you that if you do not cease driving that wild animal he will kill you. You have heard that before, but I warn you to heed it!" But Victoria's prophecy never came true. Robert De Vere had been to Fair mount. Returning, he dlsmounted,and giving horse into the charge of a ser vant, entered the house. He met Vic toria In the hall." " You are in good time," she cried ; " dinner is just ready. I was going out on the piazza to take a last look for you." " I heard a piece of news at Fair mount that surprised me a little," Robert said, after they were seated. "Well, what was It?" asked Vic toria. " There Is a new claimant for the Cashel estate," Robert replied, " and a great lawsuit Is In prospective." "A new claimant!" exclaimed Vic toria. "Who can It be?" " I know very little about it, except 'tis a woman." " A woman I" " Yes ; and a Cashel. I suppose she must claim to be a daughter of the de ceased Herbert Cashel. I suppose the case will come up before the Circuit Court at Fair mount in August next , but I dare say it will not stop there." " Why nol?" Inquired Barbara Llnds ley. " Because It Is not probable that the losing party will be satisfied with the decision of that trlbual," Robert said, ' but will wish to carry It to a higher court." " Oh, I perceive," Barbara returned. The then she added with a smile, " I know but little about law." The conversation on the subject con tinued for pome time, Victoria and Robert doing most of the talking, how ever, Barbara saying but little. After dinner Barbara went to her room. . Directly, however, she came down-stairs, equipped for a walk. As was her custom, frequently, she was go. ing to take a solitary ramble. She started in the direction of The Cedars; but she did not keep in the road, taking instead a path that led through a grassy field. She was thinking about the Cashel es tate. Shewondeed what I he De Veres would soy could ihey know she was the new claimant of The Cedars. Should she tell them ? She concluded, finally, that as she had kept the matter a secret from them thus far, Bhe would continue to do so at least until the case was decided. If the suit should go against her, she need nev er be known to the world by any other than Barbara Llndsley. If It should go against her ? Mr. Wy lie had told her that unless there was some deep rascality, that could not be exposed, practised against her, it could not terminate so ! And If she won, she would be Bar bara Cashel, mistress of a vast estate ! Barbara walked on, passed through a gate now and then, scarcely realizing how far she was going. Ere she was aware of it, she was near to The Cedars. A great gray stone mansion rose up be fore her. Barbara's sensations were somewhat strange ones. Able lawyers had told her that this grand old place was justly hers. Her ancestors had lived and died here. But for fate, the apartments of this great building had been as familiar to her as the little house by the sea, that for so many years she had called her her home. As It was, a stranger held her Inheritance. She, the daughter of Herbert Cashel, hud been cut off from it. Is it strange that Barbara's heart swelled and the tears came to her eyes at that last thought ? The cold cruel sea had stolen her forever from the clasp of her father's arms and kept her these twenty years from ever looking upon that place that should have been her home from babyhood u)! It was a great house, that was before her, with long wings extending from the main building. The builder must have had In his brain the baronial cas tles of the Old World, and have tried to pattern after them. Barbara half fan cied' that all it needel was moat and wall, and then she might expect to see Issuing from it knights with shields and'spears. Then, with a musical laugh, the girl brought herself back to the reality. "How I dream!" she murmured. The grounds about The Cedars were beautiful. Barbara did not feel in the least tired, and thought that she would ramble over the place a little. She turn ed and walked along a grass-green path, and came soon to a high stone wall. SA gate already open was before her, and she passed through. She was In an enchanted place. Great trees towered toward the sky. The earth was carpeted in green. A little dis tance away a silvery little stream wound along. Unobserved by Barbara, a huge dog came along the wall. He was fierce and vicious looking. Seemingly prompted by curiosity, for he gave forth no evi dence of anger, he followed along af ter the girl, scenting the earth. His tread was as noiseless us a tiger's. Barbara reached the banks of 'the stream. She paused enraptured by the scene that surroundtd her. The ani mal on her track paused too, and snuf fed the air. Barbara beheld a light boat, floating in the steam, and fastened to a poet on the shore with a lock and long chain. She stepped in the boat, and with an oar she found lying in it pushed it away from - shore. The chain was just stretched, and the boat could go no fur ther, when her eyes chanced to wander to the top of the bank. Barbara's blood chilled with fear, for standing there watching her was a great monster with red tongueand whlte,cruel fangs. He looked at her for a moment, and laid down with his eyes fixed upon her. To be continued,
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