Evening Star Newspaper, October 22, 1898, Page 18

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 22, 1898-26 PAGES. The Witch Woman. ise the Smith, towering like eted on the hilt of a . whose bla armorer had lan z as if the mast a that mement from the midst of his t of Malise there stood an- . less imposing in physical pro- | vut infinitely more striking in ap- I ond was a man of tall and spare . of a countenance grave and sever h a certain kindly power laten also. He was dressed in the! yhite rone of a Christian, with the black Scapulary of the order. On his head was the miter and in his hand the staff of the ab great establishment which he s visiting his subsidiary wears when he g¢ Jore remarkable than all was the ikene hous k's the young who now | him with an expre on of in- rise on his f: whieh slowly j into anger as he understood why men were there. Abbot William Douglas, the great abbey of Dulce Corupon mon e two It wa Iway s This was he who, being the son and heir of the brother of the first Duke of Touraine, had in the flower ef his age suddenly re- no i his domains of Nithsdale, that take holy orders, and who had een renowned for high sanctity 1a multitude of good works. pair stood looking toward the lady without speech, nee upon their faces earl who was the first to so late, my Lord 1 the haughtine d of his migh here with rl William ak * answered ood fr each d upon his two-handed 1 upon the gi om th ng for went on, after | ng earl to offer | waiti ylanat ly to his unc fell upon M id. “I am So great interest or bringing I will p my ur duty command row! in leav imperiously with her white | black oblong doorway from h 3 s rude hand had dragged the covering to the ground But hurck an and his guide stood their ground. iddenty abbot reached a hand and took the sword on which the master a With its poin the rich carpets wh! on. he id, “I command within thi while in the y ho! orcise that de- mon there who beguiled you ringing laugh. heroics for so I d not to m a lai of an am Christi escort push Ww y tha Who made ve um: nore in thi the Jad go. own soul. Let mu go back to clerkly cop! wer glared from hence, both of > { forget your your ki >—you, Malise tle with tomorrow ere th «rit by my word as a Deug- forgive either of you for ir white hand was laid upon his y.” said you worth the lady. love f. he or my trouble not quarrel poor sake. Go back t her who sat J will not. I am old enough to ¢ or_myself. I will t am an eer of France—or ld come forth to smiling, “you will h you till death! Body am yours alone! y cross d Mal s Haman rd. that shall you the ot though this ere w's with words he his master by rward With 7 & pull his mighty arm he r m within the circle which the d made with the sword's point ito ch or. high above storm without an arm across t forward his The whole on was illuminated with a flash of so intense and wh that it seemed d and burn up a ut. The lady more. The siiken up. Malise plunged outward into rkness of the storm, carrying his master lightly as a child in his arms, e abbot kept his feet behind him a boat in a ship's wake. The thunder 1 overhi & cave’s mouth, and the great pines bent their heads away from the mighty wind, straining and creaking and lashing each other in fury. Malise and the abbot seemed to hear bout them the plunging of riderless horses as they stumbled downward through the Right, their path lit by lightning flashes, nh no covering CHAPTER V. 1 | { > sparkled in the | lady still on the expression of ed con- | e. But now she rose to her © ask in the name of the King } z r by what right intrude with- | he precincts of a lady’s bower? I bid ad like the sea bellowing in | green and lilac and blue, and bearing be- tween them the senseless form of William, | Earl of Dougias. CHAPTER VIL ¢ Prisoning of Malise, the Smith. These things material to the life and his- tory of William, sixth Earl of Douglas, are not written from hearsay, but are chron- icled within the Nfetime by one who saw them and had part therein—though the | part was but a boy’s one. His manuscript | has come down to us and Mes before the | transcriber. Sholto MacKim, the son of | Malise, the smith, testifies to these things in his own clerkly script. He adds particu- larly that his brother Lawrence, being at the time but a boy, had little knowledge of the actual facts, and is not to be bellieved if at any time he should controvert any- thing which he has written. So far, how- ever, as the present collector and editor can find out, Lawrence MacKim appears to have been entirely silent on the subject, at least with his pen, so that his brother's aveat was needless. . . . . * . . The instant Lord William entered his own castle of Thrieve over the drawbridge and Without even returning the salutations of his guard, he turned about to the two men who had compelled his return. “Ho, guard, there!” he cried. “Seize me the abbot of the new abbey and Malise MacKim.” _ And much surprised, but wholly obed- ient, twenty archers of the earl's guard, commanded by old John of Abernethy, called Landless Jock, fell in at back and front. Ma . the master armorer, stood silent, taking the matter with usual phlegm; but the abbot was voluble. William." he said, holding out his hands With an appealing gesture, “I have labored with you night I that striven with, prayed for you. ame forth through the storm, though an old man, to deliver from the manifest snares of the — But the earl interrupted his recital with- out compunction. et Malise MacKim in the inner dun- he cried. “Thrust his feet into the stocks and let my lord abbot be fely in the castle chapel. He to be disturbed there at his de- my lord, it Jock, shaking foreboding the haughty his wet and torn disarray hout further not done!” head said with young flashed © of the men sure word had committed to earl sprang up the narrow passing as he did the a li of the men-at-arm where mere than a hundred stout archers and rousing and singing even 1 hour of the night, while lay about the halis or on shelves which they used for sleeping upon, and which folded back agaimst the wall during the first shmpse of ir young ma man left awake among them struggled to his feet and stood stiffly propped, drunk or sober, according to his condition, with his es turred upon the door which gaye upon he turnpike stair. But with a slight Swering wave cf his hand, the earl p: on to his own servant, Rene is, stretched across the thresaold. anch Frenchman rose mechani-aily sound of his master's footsteps, ard, | though still soundly asleep, he stood’ with the latch of the door in his hand and his other held to his brow in salutation. Lord William Douglas would doubt have cast himself, wet as he was, upon his bed had not Le Blesois, observing his lord's plight even in his own sleep-dulled condi- tion, entered the chamber after his n ter, d. without question or speech, silendy gan to relieve him of his wet huniing dress. A loose chamber gown of rich red cloth lined with silk and furred with “cristy” gray, hung cver the back of a black oaken chair, and into this the young earl flung himself in black and sullen anger. Le Blesots, still without a word spoken, left the room with the wet clothes over his arm As he did so a small object rolled from some fold or crevice of the doublet it had been safely lodged till dis- sening of the belt or the banderole of his hunting placed by the loc the removing of Blesois at the tinkling sound A would he oped to lift it after the nner of a careful servitor. But the e: oft his master was upon the fallen obje and with an abrubt wave of his hanc ne door, ord, from the is bed, he took trinket in d carried it to the well-trimmed lamp which stood in- the niche that held en crucifix. he Lord De $s palm a ring ngular desig main portion w > twisting be of a pi ork very cunning terlaced 4 y finished. Their set nd between their | open moutt an opal, shaped like art stone was translucent and ly luminous like « moonstone, but held in its heart one fleck of ruby red’ in shape i drop of blood. By some curious trick f t in whatever position the ring was his drop st il appeared to be on the t of detaching itself and faliing to the und rl William examined it in the flicker of the lamp. He turned it every way, nar- rowly searching inside the golden band for Posy, but not a word of any language could he find engraved upon it. ‘I saw a ring upon her hand—I am cer- tain I it on her hand!” he said these words over and over to himself. “It is then no dream that I have dreamed.” There came a low knocking at the door, rustling and a whispering without. In- ntly the eari thrust the ring upon his wn finger with the opal turned inward, nd with the dark anger mark of his race strongly dinied up his fair young brow, he faced the unscen intruder. Who is there?” he cried loudly and im- iously. The door opened with a rasping of the iron pin, and a little girlish figure clothed from head to foot in a white night veil ganced in. She clapped her hands at sight o} a. “You are come back,” have So tine a gown on, Linde e cried, “and you too. But Maud y says it is very wrong to sit up so late, even if vou are Earl of Douglas and 4 reat man now. Will you never play at ‘catch-as-eatch-can with David and me any M lo you ll ret, wan Our me her id the young earl, “what way from your chamber at vill miss you, and I do here toni Go back at hy willful maiden, catching her in her hands at each side, and rais- them a little way from the ground, be- ty pus seul, ending with rl and a low bow in the di- of her audience m Douglas could not choose but and soon sat down on the bed, set- his ¢ d hands behind his head and UE ntenting himself with looking at hig lit- t ter. | Though at that time but eight years of age, | her Margaret de Douglas was pos- h extraordinary vitality and t she seemed more like eleven, er th: | She had the clear-cut, handsome Douglas | face, the pal olive skin, the flashing dark to and the crisp blue black hair of her | mother. A lithe grace.and quickness Ike | that of a beautiful wild animal was char- | acteristic of every movement. Our mother hath been anxious about a you, brother mine,” sald the Nttle girl, tir- suddenly of her dance and leaping upon | bro other end ot the couch on which her brother was lying. Establishing herself opposite ‘him, she puled the coverlet up | about her so that presently only her face | ould be seen peeping out from under the | t Iken folds. “Oh, I was so eoid, but IT am warmer now. And if maid Betsy Ahannay comes t> take me away I want you to stretch out | your hand like this and say, ‘Seneschal, re- move that besome to the deep dungeon be- | neath the castle moat,’ as we used to do in our plays before you became a great man. “Then I could stay very long and talk to you all fhe night, for Maud Lindesay — so sound that nothing can awake ee Gradually the anger passed out of the face of William Douglas, as he listened to his sister’s prattle, like the vapors from the surface of a hill tarn when the sun rises in his strength. He even thought with some self-reproach of his treatment of Malise and his uncle, the abbot. But a glance at the ring on his finger, and the thought of what might have been his good fortune at that moment but for their interference hardened his resolution again to adamant within his breast. His sister’s voice, clear and high in its childish treble, recalled him to himself. “Oh, William, and there is such news—I forgot because I have been so overbusied with arranging my new puppet’s house that Malise made me. But scarcely were you gone on Black Darnaway ere a mes- senger came from our granduncle James at Avondale that he and my cousins Will and James will be tomorrow at the Thrieve with a company to attend the Wappen- shaw!” The young man sprang to his feet and dashed one hand into the palm of the is Ml tidings, indeed,” he cried: “what does the fat flatterer at the castle of Thrieve? If he comes to pay homage, it will be but a mockery. Neither he nor Angus had ever any goodwill to my father, and they have none to me.” “Ah, do not be angry, William,” cried the little maid, “it will be beautiful. They will come at a fitting time. For tomorrow Is the great levy and the weapon showing and our cousins will see you in your pride. And they will see me, too, in my best green sarcinet, riding on a white palfrey at vour side, as you promised.” “A weapon showing is not a place for little girls!” said the earl, mollified in spite “WILLIAM DOUGLASS, f of himself, casting himself down again on the couch and playing with the sern2nt ring on his finger. “Ah, now,” cried his sister, her quick eyes dancing everywhere at once, “you are not attending to a single word I say. I know by your voice that you are not. That is a pretty ring. Did a lady give it to you? Was it our Maud’s? I think it must have been our Maud. She has many beautifu’ things, but mostly it is the young men wh come here who wish to give her suc things. She never gives any of them away, but keeps them in a box, and says that It is good to spoil the Egyptians. And when I am tired she will tell me the history of each and whether he was dark or fair. Or make it all up just as good if she forgets. But, oh, William, if I were a lady, I should fall in love with nobody but you. For you are so handsome—yes, nearly as handsome I am myself—(she passed her hands through her curls as she spoke). ‘ou know I shall marry no one but a you must not ask me to my cousin William of Avondale, for stern and solemn, bes somewhat, as if I were a monk! should not be a monk; he should = thoughts and occunied with his ring, let the hours slio on till at n door of the earl’s chamber there ared the most bewitching face in the orld, as many in that castle were ready to prove at the sword’s point. The little ught sight of it with a shrill ery of instantly checked and hushed, vr, at the thought of her mother. audit she cried, “come hither into William's room. He has such a beauti- ful ring that a lady ga him. I am sure a ¥ i it you, Maud Linde- y puss not to tell me {f tt iam, It Is wicked of you not to » who gave you that ring. If it had been some one you were not ashamed of »u would be proud of it, and tell. Whis- per to me who it wa one, not even Mandie. Her brother had risen to his feet, with a I will not tell any quick movement girding his red gown about him as he rose. Mistress Maud,” he said, respectfully, “T fear I have given you anxiety by de- taining your charge ro late. But she Is a willful madam, and 1! to edvise.”” “She is a Douglas,"’ smiled the fair maid, who stood at the chamber door, refusing his invitation to enter with a flash of the eye and a quick shake of the head, which betokened no small share of the family qualities. “Is not that enough to excuse her for being wayward and headstrong? Earl William wasted no more words of entreaty upon his sister, but seized her in his arms, and, pulling the coverlet in which she had huddled herse!f up, with her pert chin on her knees, more closely about her. he strode along the passage with her in his arms, till he stopned at an open door leading into a large chamber which looked to the south. “There,” he said, smiling at the girl who had followed behind him, “I will lock her In with you and take the key, that I may safe bind such uncertain charge: But the girl had dettly extracted the key even a: passed in after him, and x the bolts shot from within, she cried, thank you right courteously, Lord William, but mine apothecary, fearing that the air of this Isle of Thrieve might not agree with me, bade me ever to sleep with the key of my door under my pillow. Against fever and quinsies cold iron Is a sovereign spe- cific!” p And spite of his wounded heart, Earl William smiled at the girl’s sauciness as he went slowly back to his chamber, in spite of his earldom taking pains to pass his mether's door on tiptoe. CHAPTER VII. The Douglas Muster. The day of the great weapon showing broke fair and clear, after the storm of the night. The windows of heaven had had ?ll their panes cleaned and even after broad daylight the brighter stars appeared, only, however, to wink out again when the sun arose and shone on the wet fields, re- Joicing like a bridegroom from his chamber. And equally bright and strong came forth the young earl, every trace of the anger and disappointment of the night having been removed from his face, if not from his mind, by the recreative and potent sleep of youth and health. In the hail he called for Sir John of Aber- nethany, called Landless Jock. “Conduct my uncle, the abbot, from the chepel, where he has been all night at his devotions, tojhis"phamber and furnish him with all ke| maf require, and bring up Malise, the smith, from the dungeon. Let him come into my presence in the upper hall.” se William Douglas went up into a large oak-ceiled ¢| r, wide and high, run- ning right Acros$ the castle from side to side, and with windows looking every way over the broad amd fertile strath of Dee. Presently, ;with, a trampling of mailed feet and the double rattle which denoted the grounding of'a pair of steel-hilted par- tisans, Malise brought to the door by two men of*the®ear!’s outer guard. The huge bulk;:of Brawny Kim filled up the doorway almost completely, and he stood watching the Douglas with an un- moved gravity which in the dry wrinkles about his eyés almost amounted to humor. Yet it was Malise who spoke first. For at his appearing, the eari had turned his back upon his retainer and now stvod at the win- dow which looks toward the north, from which he could almost see, over the broad and placid stretches of the river, the men putting up the pavilions and striking spears into the ground to mark the space reserved for the tourney of the next day. 2 “A fair good morrow to you, my lord, said the smith. “Grievous as my sin has been and just as is your resentment, give me leave to say that I have suffered more than my deserts from the ill-made chains and uncouth manacles wherewith they confined me in the black dungeon down there. I trow, they must have been the workmanship of Ninian Lamont, the high- landman, who dares to call himself house- smith of Thrieve. I am ready to die, if it be your will, my lord, but if you are well advised you wiil hang Ninian beside me with a bracelet of his own villain hand- work about his neck! Then shall justice be satisfied, and Malise MacKim will die happy!” The earl turned and looked at his ancient friend. The wrinkles about the eyes were deeply inronical now, and the gray eyes of COMMAND! yYou-——" the master armorer twinkled with appre- ciation of his dest “Malise,” cried hts master, warningly, “do not play at cat’s cradle with Douglas. You might tempt me to that I might after- ward be sorry for. A man once dead comes not to life again, whatever the monks prate. But tell me how knew you whither I had gone yestereven? For, in- deed, T knew not myself when T set ‘out. And, in any event, was it a thing well done for my fosterfather to spy upon me, who am also his lord? The anger was mostly gone now out of the frank face of the earl, and only humili- ation and resentment, with a touch of boy- ish curiosity remained. “Indeed,"" answered the smith, watch- ed you not save under my hand as you rode away upon Black Darnaway, and then I turned me to the seat by the wall to lis- ten to the questionings of Dame Barbara, the humming of the bees and the other comfortable and composing sounds of na- ture. “How, then, did you come to follow me in the undesirable company of my uncle, the abbot?” “For that you are in the debt of my son Sholto, who, seeing a lady wait for you in the greenwood, climbed a tree, and there from among the branches he was a wit- 8 of your encounte: said the Douglass, “it 1s to Mas- ter Sholto that 1 owe somewhat.” Aye,” said his father, “do not forget him. For he is a good ldd and a bold, as indeed he proved to the hilt yestren “In what consisted his boldness?” asked the earl. “In that he dared to come home to me with a cock-and-bull story of a witch lady, who appeared suddenly where none had been a moment before, and who had im- mediately bewitched my lord earl. Well- nigh did I twist his neck, but he stuck to it. and 1 judged that the matter, as one witchcraft, was more his affair than mine. ‘Now, harken,” cried the earl, in quick tones of high anger, “let there be no more such folly, or on your life be it. The lady was traveling with her company through Galloway from France. She invited me to sup with her and dared me to adventure to Edinburgh in her company. Wherein was the witchcraft of that, saying the witchery natural to all fair women? “Pid she not prophesy to you that today you would be Duke of Touraine and receive the ambassadors of the king of France?” “Well,” sald the earl, “where is your wit that you give ear to such babblings? Did she not come from that country, as I tell you, and who should hear the latest news more readily than she?" The smith looked a little nonplussed, but stuck to it stoutly that none but a witch woman would ride alone at nightfall upon a Galloway moor, or unless by enchant- ment, set up a pavilion of silk and strange device under the pines of Loch Roan. “Well,” said Earl William, feeling his advantage and making the most of it, “L see that in all my little love affairs I needs must take my master-armorer with me to decide whether or no the lady be a witch. He shall resolve for me all spiritual ques- tions with his forehammer. Malise Mac- Kim a witch pricker! Ha! this is a change indeed. Malise the smith, the censor of his lord’s love affairs, after what certain comrades of his have told me of his own love makings. Will he deign to come to the weapon showing today, and instead of examining the swords and halberts, the French arbalasts and German fusils demit that part of his office to Ninian the High- landman ang gQ peering into ladies’ eyes for sorcerieg and scanning their upper lips for the signs of the devil, which lurk in the dimples of their chins. In this he will find much employment and that of a con- genial sort!” Malise was vanquished, less by the sar- casm of the earl than by the fear that per- haps the Highlandman might indeed have his place of honor as chief expert at his master’s right hand at the examination of weapons that day on the green hoims ot Balmaghie. “I may have been overhasty, my lord,” he said, “‘but still do I think that the wo- man was far from canny.” The earl laughed, and, turning him about by the shoulders, gave him a push down the stair, crying out: “Oh, Malise, Malise, have you lived so long in the world with- out finding out that a fair woman is al- Ways uncanny?” The levy that day of men owning fealty to the Douglas was no hasty or local one, It was not, indeed, a “rising of the country- side,” such as took place when the En- glish were over the border and the beacon fires were thrown west from Criffel to Screel, from Screel to Cairnharrow, and then tossed northward by the three Cairns- muirs and topmost Merrick far over the up- lands of Kyle, till on tho sullen brow of | Then came riding by my Lord Abbot Brown Carrick the bale fire sét the town drum of Ayr beating its alarming note. Still tt was a day on which every Douglas vassal must ride in mail, with all his spears behind him, or bide at home and take the consequence: All the night from distant parishes and outlying valleys men-at-arms had been riding, clothed in complete panoply of mail. These were the knights barons, freehold- ers owning allegiance and duty to the house of Douglas. Each lord was followed by appointed tail of esquires and men: arms; behind these dense clusters of heav- ily armed spearmen marched steadily along the easier paths by the waterside and over the lower hill passes. Light running foot- men slung their swords over their backs by leathern bandoliers and pricked it briskly over the bent so brown. Archers there were from the border toward the Solway side, little men accustomed to leap from tussock to tuft of shaking grass, whose long strides and odd spasmodic side motions betrayed on the plain and unyield- ing heather the place of their amphibious nativity. “The Jack herons of Lochar,” these were named by the men of Galloway. But there was no Jeering to their faces, for not one of these Maxwells, Sims, Patersons and Dick- sons who would have thought twice of leaping behind a tree stump to wing a cloth- yard into a scoffer's ribs at thirty yards, taking his chance of the dule tree and the hempen cord thereafter for the honor of Lochar. The Crossing of the Ford. It was still early morning of the great day when Sholto and Laurence MacKim, icaving their mother in the kitchen, their young sist»r Magdalen trying a yet pret- tier tie to her kerchief, took their way by the fords of Glen Lochar to an eminen then denominated Plainly the Whinny Knowe, the same which afterward gained and has k2pt to this day the more fatal designation of Knock Cannon. The lads were dressed as became the sons of so Ptosperous a craftsman and master armor- er to boot as Malise MacKim of the Carlin- wark. Laurence, the younger, wore nis archer’s jack over the suit of purple velvet, with beots of yellow leather and withal a dainty cap set far back on his head, from which sprouted the wing of a blackcock in as close imitation as Master Laurence dared to compass of the Earl Douglas himself. His bow was slung at his back, all ready for the inspection. A sash of orange silic Was twisted about his waist, and in this he would set his thumb knowingly « boldly as often as the pair of brot took a pretty girl. For Master Laurence loved beauty, and thought not lightly of his own. Sholto, though as we shall soon see, spised hot love, es more knights and men s, and coi that his heaven fully atta nm as he should ride ene of thos prancing hor: pennon of Doug Meantime he ¥ ed-neck mail, blue, dotted ove and having th upon it. ore the st>el cap, the cin with red Douglas heart white cross of St. And transversely upon it. About his waist was a peaked brace of shining plate armor, damascened in gold by Malise himself, and filing out his almost girlish waist to man- lier proportions. From this depended a row of tags of soft leather. Close chain-mail covered his legs, to which at the knees were ided caps of triple plate. A sheaf of ar 3 in a blue and gold quiver on his rig! a_sword of mettle on his left, and a eottish bow in his hand completed e e of a fully equipped and fully ficient archer of the earl's guard. The lads were soon at the fords of Loch =r, Where in the dry summers the stones show all the w: across, one in the mid: being named the Black Douglas, in the place where, as tradition affirms, Archibald the Grim used to pause to look at his new fortress of Thrieve, rising on its impreg- neble island above the rich water meadows. Now, neither Sholto nor Laurence wished to wet their leg array before the work and is ant of the day began. This was spe- cially the desire of Laurence, because of the maids who would assemble on the Bore- land braes, and of Sholto inasmuch as he heped to win the prize for the best ac- uterment and the most point-device at- tring among all the archers of the earl's guard. The young men had asked crusty Simon Conchie, the boatman at the ferry croft, to set them over, offering him a groat for his pains. But he was far too busy to pay any attention to them on such an occasion, only pausing long enough to cry to them that they must e’en cross at the fords, as many of their betters would side short t do that day. There was nothing for it, therefore, but either to strip to the waist or wait the chances of the traffic. Both Sholto and Laur2nee were exceedingly loth to take the former course. They had not, howey long to wait, for a train of sumpter mule belonging to the Lord Herries of Terreg' whese father had been with Archibald the Tineman in France, came up laden with the choicest products of the border country, which he designed to offer as part of the “service-kane” to his over lord, the Earl of Douglas. Now, mules are all snorting, {ll-condi- tioned brutes, and are ever ready to run away upon the least excuse, or even with- out any. So, as scon as they caught the glint of Sholto’s biue baldric and shining steel girdle brace suddenly appear from be- hind a knoll, they incontinsntly bolted every Way. with noses to the ground, scat- tering packs and brandishing heels like young colts turned to grass. It chansed that one of the largest mules made dire-tly toward the fords of Lochar, and the youths catching the flying bridi> at either side, ap- piied a sort of brake which sufficiently slowed the beast’s movements to enable such agile skipjacks Sholto and Lau- But their they were con- ing from the rence cerned to mount more with “He Put His ‘Chumbs in the Sash.” ground than with what was already upon the animal's back, their heads met in the midst with a crash—in which collision se superior weight of the younger had ver: naturally the better of the encounter. Sholto dropped instantly back to the ground. He was somewhat stunned by the blow, but the sight of his brother triumph- antly splashing through the shallows arous- ed him. He arose, and, seizing the tirst stone that cam3 to hand, hurled it af him, swearing fraternally that he would smite him in the brisket with a dirk as soon as he caught him for that dastard blow. The first stone flew wide, though the splash caused the mule to shy into deeper water to th: damping of his rider's legs. But the second, being better aimed, took the animal fairly on the rump, and bring- ing up on a fly-galled spot, sent it with flying bags and loud squeals into the woods of Glen Lochar, which come down close to the fords on every side, whsre presently Laurence .found himself, like Absalom, caught in the branches of a beech and left hanging between heaven and earth. A rider in compl2te plate of black caught him down still holding on to his bow, and, placing him across the saddle, brought down the flat of his mailed hand upon a spot of his person which, being un- covered by mail, responded with a resound- ing smack. Then, amid the boisterous lavghter of the men at arms, he let Lau- rence slip to the ground. But the younger son of Brawny Kim, master armorer of Carlinwark, was not the lad to take such an insult meekly, even from a man-at-arns riding on horseback. He threw his bow into a convenient thicket, and, seizing the most convenient ammuni- tion, which chanced to be in great plenty that dey upon the braes of Balmaghie, he pursued his insulter along the glade wit such excellent aim and good effect that the black unadorned armor of the horse- man showed disks of defilement all over, like a tree trunk covered with toadstool growths. ~~ ~ “Shoot down the intolerable young ras- cal! Shall he thus beard my Lord Max- well?” cried a voice from the troop who witnessed the chase. And more than one bow was bent and several hand fusils lev- eled from the company which followed be- hind. - . But the knight threw up his “Hold theret™ he erted; “the b It was I who insulted him, and hi to be-revenged, thcugh the rogue’s aim is Trore to be admired than his cheice of weapon. Come hither, lad. Tell me who thou art, and what is thy father’s quality?” “4 am Laurence MacKim, an avcher of my lord's guard and the youngec son of Malise MacKim, master armorer to the Doug'as!” Laurence, being still angr: titles as ff they had been in: book of the lion-king-at-arms. sor. y is right. did right rang out his ribed in the “Saints save us!” cried the knight in Swart armor, “all that!” Then seeing boy ready to answer still more fiercely he continued with a courteous of the hand. “T humbly ask your pardon, Master Laur- ence—I am glad the son of Brawny Kim hath no small part of jis father’s spirit Will you take service and be my esquire as becomes well a lad of spirit, who de- sires to win his way to a knighthood.” The heart of Laurence MacKim beat quickly—a horse to ride—an esquire—per haps {f he had luck and much fighting, « knighthood. Nevertheless he answered with a bold, straignt look out of his black eye: “T am an archer of my Lord Doug outer guard. }] can have no promotion sav from him or those of his house—not even from the king himself!” “Well said!” cried the knight; “smal! wonder that the Douglas is the greatest man in Scotland. I will speak to the Ear! William this day concerning you!” Lord Maxwell rode at the head of his company with a courteous salutation which pot a few behind him who had heard the colloquy imitated. Laurence stood there with his heart working like yeast within him, and his color coming and going to think what he had been offered and what he had refused. “God's truth,” he said to himself, “I might have been a great man if 1 had chosen while Sholto, that old sobersides was left lagging behind.” And he looked about for his bow and went swaggering along as ready Sir Laurence and the army. But Nemesis was upon him, t in the fashion which his pride 1 the “Take that, beast of a Laurence!” cried a voice behind him And the lad received a jolt from behind which loosened his teeth in their sock and discomposed the dignified stride with which he commanding the armies of the Earl of Dougia: (To be continued.) IN THE CHURCHES Great Interest is felt among the church people of this city in the approaching cele- bration of the seventieth anniversary of the establishment of the Methodist Protestant Church, which will take place early next month. This will be observed with an ¢ orate program in each of the churche the denomination In Washington. a ab- of 4 else where throughout the bounds of the Mary land conference, of which the District of Columbia forms a pa Immediate! ter the rise of the general M. E. conference of 1824, a meeting, composed of some di guished members of the conference and re formers from different parts of the United States, was held in Baltimore, at which it was determined to publish a periodical pamphlet entitled “The Mutual Rights of the Ministers and Members of the Method- ist Episcopal Church,” for the purpose of “giving the Methodist community a suit- able opportunity to enter upon a calm and dispassionate discussion of the subject in dispute.” The meeting also determined to resolve itself into a union society, and ree- ommended that similar societies be raised in all parts of the United States, “in order to ascertain the number of persons in the Méthodist Episcopal Church friendly to a change in her government.” Some time during the spring of the year 1826 the Baltimore Union Society recom- mended state conventions to be held in the several states for tne exclusive purpose of making inquiry into the propriety of pre- paring one united petition to the approach- ing general conference of 1828, praying for representation, and to elect delegates to meet in_a general convention for the pur- pose. Conventions were accordingly held and delegates elected, in consequence of which reformers in different parts of the country were made to feel the displeasure of men in power, many being expelled from the M. E. Church. The expelled members and their frienis immediately organized under Mr. Wesley's general rules, taking the title of the Associated Methodist Re- formers. In November, 1827, the general convention assembled in Baltimore, composed of min- isters and lay delegates. elected state conventions and Union e This convention prepared a memorial the general conference of May, 1828, y ing that the government of ‘the chu: might be made representative and more in accordance with the mutual rights of the ministers and people. To this memorial the general conference replied, in a circular, by claiming an exclusive divine right to the unlimited and unamenable power which had been exercised over the whole church from the establishment of their government in 1784. Thé reformers, relinquishing all hope of obtaining a chance in the government of the church, withdrew in considerable num- bers in various parts of the United States, and called another convention to assemble in Baltimore, November 12, 1828. This con- vention adopted the title of “Associated Methodist Churches,” with seventeen cles of association, to government until erve as a provis a constitution and dis- cipline could be prepared by another con- vention subsequently to be held. This con- vention assembled in the same city the 24 day of November, 1830, Fran Waters, D. D., president, and Rey. W. C. Lipscomb and W. §S. Stockton, secretari By it the tile of “Methodist Protestant Church” was substituted for that of “Associated Methc dist Churches,” and a constitution and dis i e adopted. y. Nicholas Snethen was president_in the first plan of appointments, and Rev. Dr. A. D. Melville is the present president of the conference. Tuesday next the annual sessions of the Synod of the Potomac of the Reformed Church in the United States will begin in St. Paul’s Reformed Church, Woodstock, Va. The sessions will continue until No- vember 1. Other important subjects to be considered besides the mission, Sunday school and publication interests will be the mission proposed in China and the election of a professor of ehurch history and exe- gesis in the Eastern Theological Seminary at Lancaster, Pa. Rev. Dr. Thomas G. Ap- ple, the last incumbent, died suddenly a month since. ‘ue synod includes the churches in southern Pennsylvania, and in Maryland, Virginia, West Virginia and North Carolina and District of Columbia, and comprises nearly 60,000 confirmed and unconfirmed members. There is every reason to believe that the new Franciscan monastery, which is near- ing completion in the vicinity of the Catho- lc University, will, after it is opened to the publ attract visitors from not only all sections of our own country, but man trom abroad. Within the monastery there will be a church in which will be repro- duced ‘he birthplace of the Savior, the Aoly sepulcher, Mt. Calvary, the catacombs and the home of the holy family at Naza- reth. Of those mentioned the holy sepul- cher will probably be the most interesting, every detail of the original in Jerusalem be- ing accurately reproduced. Above this will be Mt. Calvary. To the right of the church entrance a carved stairway ample in_pro- portions will lead to the grotto of Naza- reth, twenty feet below the floor. Here will be reproduced the rocky cave where the holy family lived after leaving Bethlehem with the infant Christ. Beneath the main floor will be the chapel of the dead, which is designed. for holding the funeral cere- monies of those who may die in the mon- astery. Adjoining it will be a miniature re- production of the catacombs of Rome, with niches in the wall for the reception of dead bodies, but they will not be used as such, being built solely to carry out the general plans of the reproduction. From the catacombs a dark, winding pas- sage will extend beneath the church floor to the ed of Bethlehem or holy cave. This is designed as an exact counterpart of the birthplace of Christ, over which the Church of Nativity in Bethlehem is built. It was In the grotto, it is said, that St. Jer- ome spent the last thirty-one years of his life, fourteen of which were devoted to ihe translation of the Oid Testament into Latin. In one part of the monastery will be the executive offices of the order for the juris- diction of the United States. Above will be the quarters for the monks, smail rooms with cement floors and a single window There will be also rooms for the sick, Ling er and more comfortable than the little cells, and apartments for the superior and bis exscutive staff. There will also be ma ether attractive features about the monas- ery. Many of the best-informed members of the Baltimore conference = that Rev Dr. Stitt, now pastor of Dumbarton M. F Church, this city, will go to Baltimore to take charge of a church th after the conference assembles in March next. De Spite the fact that the conference does not meet until spring theve reference to coming changes. is much talk of whi in * however, but few will occur by reason of expiration of term of service. Principal among these are Dr. Sti:t ted: Kev Dr. c. rt Richard: and Rey. Dr. L. Hubbard, pastors Fayette Str Church and Madison Square Church. tively. It is rep t of these t it’ agresment cornered », from nence of Ue ‘gymen interes nee of the laymen of thes: is, will get through the coming session rumor is that Dr. ation to Madison Square Church timore; that Rev. Dr. Richardsoa of ette Street will succeed Dr. Stitt an city. and that Rev. Dr. Hubbard will suc- eced Dr. Richardson at Payett> The Catholics of St, Louis, Mo., will soon have one of the most remarkable church ifices in che world. It will be pra iy destructiiie, and its spire will be th highest in America. This stracuure is to be erected by the congregation cf St. Fran- cls de Sales, to replace urch destroyed the tornaao of Ma 2 1s. When completed the walls will be practically one solid sto: “as du as the pyramt as immo: Pas the hinx.” The steeple will be high The pastor of St. Francis de Sales Church traveled all over Europe — fron: Rome to St. Petersburg—to find a fitting model for the great edifice now being erect ed in St. Louis. He decided upon St lus’ Church of the Dominicans, in Germany, and the building will be al duplicate of that. T ture were drawn by architect of Berlin. The walls of the steeple foundation are six feet thick. They will gradually taper until they come together at a point far be- low the apex. From there up the masonry will be solid The foundation and base- ment wal are also six fe thick. They Will taper toward the top until at the point ef contact with the roof they will be thre feet in thickness. Be ta plans for the struc- giebert Sieberts, an In_buiiding these walls layers of stone built up so that the inner t apart at the b The = u is filled with concrete. This hardens and adheres to the stone, and in course of tim ‘comes as solid as on im- mense foundation of rock. This process is used throughout the building to the small- est art, with the re that the whole be- comes one immovable mass, and is a® sub- stantial as though the doors and windows were carved out of solid stone The First Baptist Church (colored) in- led, October 12, Rev. Peter Suvis as its pastor for one year, after which a commit tee of twenty-f ve him and his fri a hear icome and reception. » was large,twenty or more pre ing present. J. C. Dent was mast seremontes. The church, pulpit, study and hall beautifully decorated with flowers and ferns, where ali enjoyed a ban on prising all the luxuries aK iy cha of the banquet were: Ushers —M James Heyer, Mr. John Bunbry, Mr. Tho: Jackson, Mr. Russel Harris and Samuel Granthin. They were assisted by the fo lowing ladies: Mrs. } Hyder, Mrs Minnie Blake, Mrs. Fran Harris. Mrs amma thin, Mrs, Mahoney Miss Minnic d. Mrs. Johnson, M ue son, Mis mma and Frances Granthi Mrs. Mary Jones, Mrs. Hi iman, Miss Cart Talty, Mis iry Jones, Miss Bla a Purdy, Mrs. Ellen Jack Sllen Washington and Mrs. Mary Johnson son, M Shanklin. ‘oman’s Home and Foreign Mis s of the Gunton Temple Presby an Church held its annual praise church last Sunday evening, Miss Little presiding. Mrs. Verno Hodges gave a short history of the socle after which Rev. Dr. Thomas M field secretary for the foreign board, an address on the subject of mis- sions. Music was furnished by the young ladies’ choir of the Fourth Presbyterian Church. Miss Carlotta Brockett sang a solo. > Proved a Benefit. From Electricity The barbed wire fences surrounding San- tiago, which have proved a hindrance and nuisance to our hard-worked soldiers, have, it seems, after all, their advantages. Ne long ago one of the wires of such a fer was sufficiently insulated to allow of te graphic messages being sent from army corps to another, a distance miles. Thus the Spaniards unwittin saved the enemy’s signal corps the tr of laying a wire through a rugged country. one of fi a < Wants Quickly Filled. js Season, when so many are seek- ing situations, and, on the other hand, so many secking employes, it is of interest to know that advertisements under the At classifications Wanted Help and Wanted Situations are inserted in The Star at @ charge of 15 cents for fifteen words. —_.>—_—_ An Imitative Fowl, ht lishing Company) ’ “To think I've stayed out of that garfen all this season, just because my wings were clipped!” 4