ImfM MiW3 m&m Mm i wMmmlWm piilliepilli Wtmw& t VOL. XIII. 3SJ"EW BTjOOMITIIIj3D, iPA.., TUESDAY, DECEMBER 2'3, 1871). NO. 52. THE TIMES. An Independent Family Newspaper, 18 PUBU8HSD BVBRY TUESDAY BT F. MORTBIER & CO. SUBSCRIPTION P II I C E . (WITHIH THB COUMTT.) One Tear fl 21 Blx Months, 75 (OCT 0 THB COUNTT.) One Year, (Postage Included) SI N) Six Mouths, (l'o.uuge iucluded) R5 , Invariably In Advance I -Advertising rates furnished upon appli cation. The Battle for the Cedars. BY ritEHSLY W. MORRIS. CONTINUED. BARBARA'S heart did not beat quite bo rapidly. After all, the dog would probably not harm her. She took hold of the chaiu, and pulled the boat to the shore. But just as she was on the potnt of stepping out, the creature on the shore sprang to his feet with a fierce growl, his bristles erect, his tongue out, his white fangs gleaming. With a cry of terror Barbara sprang toward the back part of the boat, and fell prostrate In it. The dog leaped toward her. By some means he missed the object for which he sprang. Hia huge body came in contact with the boat, forcing it out in the stream, while he tumbled into the water. Barbara regained her feet, and the beast swam to the shore. There he stood baying in baffled rage, while the girl, seizing the oar, held the boat out from the bank, her face white with terror. "Help! help 1" she screamed. The brute came closer. He seemed to be preparing for another leap. If he should leap, not reaching the boat, he would, in all possibility, overturn it. "Help! help 1" Barbara screamed. Suddenly a man appeared behind the dog, in answer to Barbara's cries. He grasped in his hands a huge club. With one glance he took in the danger, and then approached closer with swift but stealthy tread. He struck a terriflo blow and Barbara's peril was ended, for by that blow the dog was knocked into the stream, giving as he went a wild howl of pain. The man drew the boat to the shore, and springing in it lifted Barbara out. She was very pale, and he placed her on thegrassy bank. " Oh, It was terrible 1" she cried. Shortly she rose to her feet. " I will escort you to your home," the stranger said ; " that 1b, if you permit me." Barbara murmured her thanks. The man offered his arm, which she took gratefully, for she felt that she needed aid. " I am sorry to trouble you so much," she said, as they started off. " It is a mile and a half to where I am stay ing." " Do I look as though a walk of a mile and a half would fatigue me great ly V" said the man, with a pleasant smile. Certainly he did not look so, for he was tall and powerfully built; a man with splendid athletic figure, noble in its proportions. " I thiDk.after I leave these grounds," Barbara said, " I can get along alone." " I shall not leave you till you are safe at your destination," was the reply. "You are pale and weak." The man's voice thrilled Barbara, it .was so rich and musical. Involuntarily she raised her eyes, aud beheld his eyes beaming down upon her. They were beautiful eyes, magnetlo in their power, telling of a brave and generous heart. Even in this moment Barbara thought that this stranger would be strikingly handsome if it were not for one thing ; and that was, that he wore a huge red beard, which entirely concealed the lower part of his face. Barbara grew silent for a lime. She shuddered as she thought of the danger from which she had escaped. Was this adventure ominous ? Did any monster stand between her and her Inheritance ? " I have not told you my name," she suddenly said to the Uranger. " Excuse me. It is Barbara Llndsley V" " Thank you," he returned. He seemed to liesitataie for a moment. " Mine is Victor," he paid presently. "A very suitable tiarue," Barbara murmured, with a smile. Mr. Victor's face Hushed ; but he Ig nored the remark. Barbara was beginning to feel much better. " That estate over which I was ram bling belongs to a man by the name of Cashel, I believe," Victor said. "Yes," was the rather constrained answer ; " Mr. Lionel Cashel is the gentleman who possesses the property." "How long has he been in posses sion ? I understand that he Inherited it from a somewhat distant relative." " I believe that Mr. Cashel has held the estate for some two or three years," Barbara said. " I heard In Falrmount, from which place 1 rode down this afternoon, that there is another claimant," said Mr. Victor in a careless tone; " and I was told that there is to be a great lawsuit. Have you heard anything about it ?" " Yes," said Barbara. " Yonder Is my destination, just In view." Mr. Victor lifted his eyes in the direc tion of the De Vere residence. No more was said about the Cashel estate. Ten minutes later, the two stood by an iron gate close behind the house. ," Will you enter?" Barbara said to Mr. Victor. " Thank you, no," he replied. "I left a horse standing a few hundred yards away from the scene of your adventure; and I must hasten back, Miss Llndsley." " At any rate, Mr. Victor," said Bar bara, " you must call soon, so that I can suitably express my thanks for the great Bervlce you rendered me." "Nothanks are necessary," said the man. " I could not have done less. I was wandering through those grounds when I heard your cries, was near to you, and knocked that ugly brute into the stream. That was all." "Yet you saved my life," said Bar bara, smiling up into his face. Mr. Victor yet lingered. " Miss Llndsley," he said abruptly, pulling a glove from his pocket, her glove " you dropped this by the banks of that stream, and I picked it up." He paused. His eyes were shining down upon the girl. She waited for him to continue. v " Will It be too much of a favor to bestow this upon meV" he said pres ently. " Certainly not," murmured Barbara. " If you wish it, you may keep the glove, Mr. Victor." Victor turned, and was gone,the glove still in his hand. She went to the house, aud up to her room, the stranger's rich, musical voice ringing in her ears, his eyes flashing be fore her vision. " Her face is forever fixed upon ' my "heart," Mr. Victor said to himself as he hastened on. " If we never meet again, I shall not forget her. And her glove shall be to me what his lady's guerdon was to knight of old." Victor soon reached the place where his horse was fastened. After he was mounted, he did one thing that seemed strange. He lifted his hand, aud shook it in the direction of the great gray stone mansion. "Beware of retribution, false vlllian I" he muttered. . ' The De Veres possessed a gentle horse whlch Miss Lindsley rode frequently. Oocassionally she mounted hlm,and gal loped over the country alone. A couple of evenings after her adven ture, she had Sultan brought out, and, mounting him, rode away unaccom. panied. Along the road, through lanes, for four five miles she went. Finally she turned Sultan's head toward home, with the Intention of riding thither. A couple of miles from De Vere's resi dence she was letting Sultan trot leisure ly along when she head the clatter of a horse's hoofs behind her. She did not turn her head, but very soon the horse and rider overtook her. It was the mas ter of The Cedars " Good-evening, Miss Lindsley," he exclaimed. Barbara returned his saluation, and he Blackened the pace of his horse, rid ing along beside ber. " You are much Improved," she said. " I am very much so," said the mas ter of The Cedars ; "in fact, as well as ever. However, I have not yet driven that animal which ran away with me." Other remarks followed. The man rode with Barbara to De Vere's. He assisted her to dismount. Politeness de manded that she should ask him to en ter ; and she did so. "Thank you," he replied, accepting her invitation. Entering, Barbara ushered him into the parlor. As It chanced, Victoria De Vere was there ; so Barbara excused her self for a time. In her own room the thought presented itself to stay away. " But I will go down," she murmured firmly. "This man may hate me some day. I am sure I will not take the first step toward raising a feud between us. No; my treatment of him shall I as civil as I can make it." Then she went down, the added color that her ride had given her still In her cheeks. The gaze of the master of The Cedars rested upon her admiringly. However, she did not notice thls,for she was not looking at him. An hour or two passed pleasantly enough, and then Mr. Lionel Cashlel took his leave. But that was not the end. It became apparent very shortly that the master of The Cedars had come to the determina tion of being on as friendly terms ns possible with the De Veres and their guest. There came a formal invitation for them all to dine with him, the day being set. " I think we had better accept," Robert De Vere said, when the question of accepting the invitation was being discussed. " We shall probably be neighbors for years; and we may as well cultivate friendly relations with him as not." Then he turned to Barbara Llndsley. " Miss Llnllsley, will you accept ?" he asked. " I believe I would prefer to be ex cused," Barbara retnrned. Then Victoria pointedly declared that unless Barbara would go, neither would she. Barbara was finally induced to give her consent. And so, on the appointed day, they all went to The Cedars. Barbara's emotions when she first en tered the gray stone mansion were sim ilar to what they had been when Bhe first looked upon it. The apartments were spacious, the furniture luxurious, but rather quaint and old-fashioned. However, this only added to the fascina tion the place had for Barbara. The dinner was magnificent and was served by colored servants. Thlsiatter item was a matter of course in a Vir ginia mansion. Nothing of particular Importance oc curred previous to or during dinner. In Bpite of herself, Barbara rather enjoyed the occasion. After the meal was finished, the mus ter of The Cedars showed his guests over a portion of the grounds. Barbara said nothing about her adventure with the dog. ' The visit ended at last. The guests, accompanied by the host, were going down a walk in front of the mansion to their carriage, when a huge dog, fierce and vicious-looking, ran across their path. Barbara beheld him, and, though' tbere was no present danger, her heart sank in terror, and all the senatipns of that time of great peril returned to her, for this was the brute that had at tacked ber. The sight of him brought back the horror of that terrible scene. She had thought that he was dead ; and the thought had been a comfort to her. Was every association of The Cedars to be connected with this monster ? Could his always crossing ber path be an omen of doom ? Barbara was not given to su perstltous thoughts, but the idea made her shudder. " What a terribly vicious-looking crea ture that dog of yours is," said Robert De Vere to the master of The Cedars. " Yes, he is," was the careless reply. "I keep him chained generally ; butbere lately I allow him to run loose occasion ally. After all, I have a kind of affec tion for the brute." At that moment Barbara glanced at the man. Something in hU expression reminded her of the tigerish-dog ; and she shuddered again. Only a few days after that, the mas ter of The Cedars called at the De Vere mansion once more. As formerly.a few hours were spent agreeably enough. But deeper and deeper was the Impression growing in Barbara Llndsley'a heart that she could never like this man. When his calls began to be repeated fre quently, a fear came to her that made her sick in soul. Did he intend to make love to her sweet friend Victoria ? Could there be a possibility that Vlotorla might learn to love him ? The very thought filled her soul with a strange dread. Yet why should it V She had no tangible reason- for her opinion of the master of The Cedars,sbe knew. Nothing buttbecounsctousness, confessed to no one but herself, that there was something fierce, vicious, tiger like, nbout the man; a consciousness that would cause her to withhold from him any one that she loved, even as she would withhold that one from a beast of prey. Then came the question, what could she do? What indeed? Should she state to Victoria her Impressions'!1 What would that avail ? She had no foundation for any such statement save her own vague fears of evil. If Victoria had aught of regard for the man, what could it avail for her to say simply that she believed him to be a bad man ? Love had never been uprooted in any such manner. Victoria was gentle and affec tionate, it was true ; but if she loved a man would she cling to him any the less firmly for her gentleness? No. Barbara was compelled to acknowl edge to herself that she was powerless In this matter that she could only let aflalrs take their course. It was highly probable that Victoria would care noth ing for the master of The Cedars; but Barbara believed that it was not so with him in regard to Vlotorla. Yet, after all, she was utterly mis taken. Her fears for her friend were as baseless as castle of air. Victoria filled scarcely a thought of the master of The Cedars. Some Invited guests came to De Vere's. Among them was a young man by the name of Vincent Sherwood. He had met Victoria before ; and she had im pressed him strongly. Now be was evi dently very much attracted by her, and his attentions were rather marked. Barbara expected to see the master of The Cedars angry with jealousy. She was disappointed. She saw that the advances Vincent Sherwood was mak ing did not affect him, aud were not re garded. He came to De Vere's as often as ever, and seemed to rather like Vin cent. Barbara began to understand that she had been mistaken, and for Victoria's sake she rejoiced greatly ; at last she was made fully aware that the master of The Cedars cared naught for Victoria. ; One afternoon he came, and, as it happened, found her alone in the parlor. He seated himself, and began to con verse ; but he grew abstracted In man ner, and seemed unable to keep up his share of the conversation. " Excuse me," said Barbara presently, " and I will summon some of the fam ily." She rose to her feet ; but the master of The Cedars sprang before her. " Wait, Miss Llndsley," he exclaimed ; "it is you I wish." Barbara's gaze sought his faceques tioningly. His eyes were gleaming upon her, and in an instant she read the truth. How terribly she had been mis taken 1 Her strength seemed to leave her, and she sank into her seat with a kind of sob. She lifted her hand with a deprecatory gesture; but the man heeded her not. "Miss Llndsley, I love you I" he cried. Will you be my wife?" Suddenly strength and calmness came to her. "Mr. Cashel, you surprise me," she said. "I did not dream of this." "Tell me : do you love me ?" exclaim ed the man. Barbara saw that it was beat to end it all as Boon as possible. ' " I am sorry for you, Mr. Cashel," she eald firmly ; " but;i do not love you. I cannot be your wife." " You love some one else," he ex claimed angrily. His white teeth showed; his eyes blazed upon her with a wicked light. Barbara Llndsley could not but remem ber the beast that had tried to take her life. " No," she returned ; "1 love no one else." ' But a rich, musical voice echoed In her ears, and a pair of eyes magnetic in their power came before her for ah in stant. She had spoken truly; yet a possibility flashed through her mind. Her hero, her knight, might win her could he but have a chance. " If you love no one else, then you shall learn to love me," said the master of The Cedars. "I encourage no false hopes," said the girl coldly. " I never can, Mr. Cashel."' "Why not?" he questioned, more angrily than before. "I have no marks upon me to make you hate me, have I ? You speak Btrongly when you say that in all the future there is no hope, more strongly than the case demands." Barbara sprang to her feet, anger in her eyes. "If you have finished, Mr. Cashel, you will excuse me," she said haughtily. " I do not choose to be insulted." The man '8 anger cooled. " I beg your pardon," he said, hum bly enough. "I will go myself." And he left Barbara's presence. She ran to her room. "Oh, why does he love me?"' she cried, bursting into a passion of tears. "Between us there is nothing in com mon. I hate him I I hate him 1 and I cannot help it. I have been blind, ut terly blind ; for the possibility of this never came to me. It fills my soul with dismay. Oh, why does he love me?" The master of The Cedars ceased to come to the De Vere residence. Once when Barbara was out riding he passed her. As he did so, he gave her merely a cold glance. The first of August approached. Bar bara made an announcement to the De Veres. "I am going to Baltimore," she said. "You don't mean that," Victoria said. "I thought you were going to re main with us till winter." " I positively must go In a week," Barbara replied seriously ; "but, Vic toria, I will try to return by the middle of August." , " You will try !" exclaimed Victoria. "One would suppose that it might be Impossible. Barbara, I will never for give you if you not come back and re main until Christmas. Unless you promise me that, I will not let you go at all." " I promise to return ; "but" "I want no conditions," interrupted Victoria imperatively. " Promise in full." " I will return ; but after that we will decide how long I am to remain," per sisted Barbara. One pleasant summer afternoon, late in July, Robert De Vere drove Barbara over to the station. The train rushed up, and she found herself on board. Then she was away. Several hours passed. Night came down on earth. The train plunged on through the darkness. All of the Incidents that had occur red while she was at the De Vere's passed before Barbara's memory, from the adventure with the vicious dog to the declaration of the master of The Cedars. The great gray stone mansion, to think of which always thrilled her, because she knew it should have been her borne, rose up before her Imagina tion. It pleased her to think of The Cedars, and caused her to shudder to re member the possessor of the estate. Barbara became wearied. Nature as serted herself, and the girl fell Into a slight doze. She had a terrible dream. She imagined that the master of The Cedars was pursuing her, face hideous and distorted, she fleeing before him in dread. Suddenly her flight was stopped by coming to a steep precipice. She glanced down into the yawning gulf be fore her feet, and beheld his fierce, ir cous-looking dog, bis red mouth open, his white, cruel fangs gleaming. With a wild scream she threw herself from the precipice, thinking that the monster below could not be more cruel than the pne above. There was an answering scream, and then Barbara awoke She found herself standing erect, cold chills of terror running over her. The shriek of the locomotive had awak ed her. There was a fierce grating sound beneath her feet, and In an instant there came a terriflo crash. Darkness seemed to envelop Barbara, and Bhe became un conscious. To be continued.
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