Evening Star Newspaper, October 29, 1898, Page 18

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 29, 1898-24 PAGES. CHAPTER IX. Laurence Sings a Hymn. und beheld his brother. young men the ground, according to but for the fact of Lau- degradation, ler by‘an inch, and of a and supple. » McKim’s shay ounce of flesh on him < had become the laughing thre r lords to find out jotted to each contingent For, as the of the camp. shaw was to be of three days’ un to arise under stretched up from all laughed and jested after their to fight it out, » Brock, or Badger, slim Sholto uming Laure Whitterick! Sholto being en the upper griy . Which show i him to be Sarl of Angus. immediately young men knightly fashion. se MacKim, lit- was instantly ess is it of yours and ragged recovered from hi: he Angus marshal But the brothers lads to take beating he provost. wha > do with the Gallo- art of the encampment, had far bet- officiousness to his with a stick meekly, The Red Angus dr-w his sword tened forthwith to slay the lads But with a spring | n of the wouds, Sholto he had time ust oF parry. aw back his arm for th uff out of his hand, sath the impetus of Sholto's his brother da woody vovet Ss being rubbed The young me us casual inc . fresh-cclored youths tenances of Lord Abbot William knee | it ts it is a shame led to join In aught ruder anting of psalms in holy ser- d@ also of Laurence’s en- the knight of the black incontinently wit ng which almost choked jim. * said the abbot, “ such fair bodie; with his fingers joined ood quietly by with said Sholto un- as a rat trep sir, I can sing *O, Marv Quean! ‘The abbot smiled, well Pleased. “Ah, exceeding proper, a song to the hon- (he devoutly 2 1 knew th Id not be mistaken in y r pardon, most reverend,”* e4 Sholto, “please you to ex- my brother. broken, and he cannot sing at Then under his breath he added you God-forgotten fool. ong, you will h tm a trice and whipped on tr back for Insolence to the earl’s unc! said his brother, “I will sing. The old cock is monstrous deaf, at ave us both strip- Sing,” sald the abbot, “I would hear you | So fair a face must be accompun- | ed by the pipe of a nightingale. Les Black vee 3.R.Crockett. we sorely need a tenor for the choir at Sweetheart!" So, encouraged in this fashion, the dar- ing Laurence began: ‘ae priests aboot me shall be se To mumble prayers baith morn i I swap them a” for Mary Quean! id ae He “8 for me be sunz, s filae, clerkirg | Sle semper solet I gang my ways to Mary Quean! “Ah, very good, very good, truly!” said the abbot, thrusting his hand into his pouch beneath his gown. “Here are two gold nobles for thee, sweet lad, and an- other for your brother, whose countenance is somewhat less sweet. You have sung well to the praise of our lady. What did | you say your name was? Of a surety we j must have you at Sweetheart. And you have the Latin, too, as I heard in the hymn! It is a thing most marvelous. | Verily the very unction of grace must have visited you in your cradle!” Laurence held down his head with all | his native modes but the more open | Sholto grew red in the face, hearing behind | him the tittering and shoulder-shaking of | the priests and lay servants in the abbot’s | train, and being sure that they would in- form their master as soon as he passed by concerning the true import of Master Lau- rence’s song. He was muttering a rapid | recitative, “O, wait, wait Laurle MacKim, | till I get you on the Carlinwark shore. A | sore back and a stiff skinful of bones shait | thou have, and not inch of hide on thee that is not black and blue. Amen,” \he added, stopping his maledictions quick- |ly, for at that moment the abbot came | somewhat abruptly to the end of his bene- | diction. ‘ The great churchman rode away on his ir white palfrey horse, with a smile and ckward wave of his hand. will speak to my nevhew concerning | you this very day, my child!” he cried. | And the countenance of the most gentle th kept its sweet innocence and angelle | grace to the last, but that of Sholto was dark and frowning. CHAPTER X. The Braes of Balmaghic. | By 10 of the clock the braes of Bal- maghie were a sight most glorious to look | upon. Well nigh 12,000 men were gathered there, of whom 5,000 were well mounted knights and fully equipped men-at-arms, | every man of them ready to thrust a la lor ride a charge. | The line of the tents which had been t up extended from well-nigh opposite the island of Thrieve to the kirk- hill of Balm Every knight's follow- jing was stmetly kept within its own pale, lor fence of green wands set basket wise, | pointed and thrust into the earth like the trap spring of those who catch mowdie- warts. Many also were the quarrels and | bickerings of the sauires who had been sent forward to che and arrange the | several cncampments. Ni rough and n the deroga- belted as in, of nave si thought any save |tumble fights such we MacKims indulging tory to the dignity knight Each camp | ow lord, but top of every disvlayed the banner of its higher than all, from the mound and broomy hilloci, floated the banner of the overlord. This |was the white lion of joway on a ground of blue. and beneath it, but on the same staff, pennon whereon was the bleeding heart of the Douglas family. ‘The lists we-e set up on the level meadow that is called the boateroft. At either end a pavilion had been erected, and the lists were strongly fenced in, with a rising tier ‘of seats for the ladies along one side and | a throne in the midst for the Douglas him- | self, as high and as nobly upholstered as if the king of Scots had been presiding in erson. ; veat 10 by the great sun dial of Thrieve the earl, armed in complete armor of rare work, damascened with gold, and bearing j in his hand the truncheon of commander. rode first through the fords of Lochar, and immediately after him came his brother David, a tall, handsome boy, whose oliv skin and high-bred beauty attested his Douglas birth. Next rode the Earl of Angus, a_ red, foxy-featured man, with mean and shifty eyes. He sat his horse awkwardly, per- petually hunching his houlders forward as if he feared to fall over his beast's head. And saving among his own company no man him any honor, which caused him to grin with wicked, Sidelong smiles of hate and envy. Then, amid the there appeared Margaret, the famous over all of Gulloway.”” shouting of the on a milk-white earl’s only sister, already Scotiand as “the fair maid With her rode one who, in peopie, palfre: the esteem of most who saw the pair that day, was yet a rarer flower, even | Maud Lindesay, who had come out of the bleak north to keep the lonely .ittie maid company. For Margaret of Douglas w yet no more than a child, but Maud Linde- | Say was nineteen years of age and in | the first perfect bloom of her beat: Behind came the whole array .of the knights and barons who own allegiance to | the Douglas—Herons and Maxw | well Macullochs, Gordons fr Kells, with Agnews and M the shireside. But above all, bering all, there were the Ie outnim= chiefs of the mighty name—Douglases of ‘he north, Moray and Ormont among them, these no- ble young sons of James the ‘iross of Avondale rode nearest their cousin, We head of the clan. Then came Douzlases of the border, Dougiases of the Hen re, of Renfrew, of Douglasdale. Every man of that great company which sph and caracoled through the fords of Loc! was a William, a James or an Arechiba Douglas. The king himseif coutd not have raised in all Scotland such a following, and mall wonder if the hgart of the young xpahded within him: Presently, soon after the arrival the cavalcade, the wappen-shaw was in array, and, company by company, long double line extended as far as the could reach from north to south along side of the broad river Sholto, who in virtue of his courage and good marksmanship had been placed over ird man eye the and sluggish moving the archer company which waited on the right of the ford, fell in behind the cor- texe of the earl. He was first man of all to have his equipment examined and his Weapons obtained, as they deserved the commendation of his liege lord, and the grim, unwilling approval” of Malise, the master armorer, whose unerring eye could not detect so much as a speck on a shirt of mail or a grain of rust on the waist plece of shining steel Then the earl rode down the lines, and Sholto, remembering the enco: nter among the dust of the roadway, breathed more ely when he saw his father’s back. And surely that day the heart of the Douglas must have been proud and high within him, for there they stood, company behind ordered company, the men on whom he could count to the death. And the fad of eighteen, who in Scotland was greater than the king, looked upon their steadfast thousands with a swelling heart. The abbot had made particular inquiries where Laurence was stationed, which was in the archer company of the Laird of Kelton. Most of the monkish band had been made too happy by the deception practiced on the abbot concerning Mary Quean, and were too desirous to have such @ rogue to play pranks in the dull abbey to tell any tales on Laurence MacKim. But one Berguet, a Belgian priest, who had begged his way to Scotland, and whose na- ture was that of a spy and a sycophant, approached and volunteered the informa. tion to the abbot that this lad to whom he was desirous of showing favor was a ribald and a hypocritical youth. “Eh. what,” said the abbot, “a bodle for thy ill-set tongue, false loon; dost think I did not hear him sing his fair and seemly orisons? I tell thes, rude outland jabberer, that I am a Dougias, and have ears better than those of any Frenchman that ever breathed. For this thou shalt kneel. six nights on the cold stone of-the holy chapel house and say of paternosters ten thou- sand and of misereres thou shalt sing three hundred, And this shall chance to teach » | thee to be scanter with thy. breath when thou speakest to the abbot of the Founda- tion Devorgill concerning better men than thyself.” The priest gasped and fell back, anj none other was found with aught to say against Master Laurence, which, considering the ten thousand paternosters and the three hundred misereres, was not unnatural. As the earl passed along he was annoyed by the iterated requests of his uncle to be informed when they should come to the company of the Laird of Kelton. And the good abbot, being, like all deaf men, apt to speak a little loud, did not improve matters by constantly making remarks behind bis hand upon the appearance or character (as known to him) of the various dependents cf the Douglas house who had come out to show their loyalty and exhibit their pre- paredness for battle. As thus it was. T ccme in his Solwayside salmon nets, he young earl would inspection to a company of men—stiff-jointed fishers of out of the parishes of Rer- rick or Borge; or, as it might be, rough colts from the rock scarps of Colvend scramblers after wild birds’ nests on per- ilous heuchs and poachers on the deer pre- serves of Cloak Moss as often as they had a chance. Then the ear}, having zealouslY commended the particular Barnbachle or Munches who led them, all would be neace and concord till out of the crowd behind would issue the growling comment cf his uncle. the abbot of Dulce Cor. “A close-fisted old thief! The saints pity him not! He will surely fry in hell! Last Shrovetide did he not drive off five of our best milch cows, and hath steadfastly re- fused to restore them? Anathama mnran- atha to his vile body and condemned his seul.” Every word of this comment and adiJition was heard by the person most concerned. Or it might be “Henry Amilligan—his mother’s son—God wot. And his father's, too, doubtless—if only one could know who bis father was. The devil dwell in his fat belly! Exorcise te—" So it went on till the temper of the young Earl of Galloway was strained almost to ie) By Ky HE TOOK | mane lon erectedyat fhe southern end of the Jousting megdow,°when a gust of cheering berne along the Ifhes anncunced the arrival of a belated company. The young man glanced northward with intent to discover by their pennons rho his visitors might be. But the distdnce ‘Was too great, and ident fication wad made more difficult by the swarming of the populace round the new- comers. So, being unable to make the mat- ter out, Earl Willjam dispatched his brother David to bring him word of their quauty. Presently, "howéver, and before David Douglas’ ‘return; shouts of ‘Avondale! Avondale!” from, the men of Lanarkshire informed the young earl of the name of one of the least of those who had arrived. A frown datkenéd his brow so quick and argry that ft shbwed the consideration in which the Douglas held his granduncle, James the Gross, Earl of Avondale. “I hope, at least,” he said in a low voice to Malise, who stood half a step behind him, “that my cousins Will and James have come with him. They are good metal for a tourney and worth breaking a lance with.” By this time the banners of the visitors could be seen crossing the fords of Lochar, while high advanced above all private pen- nons two standards could be seen. the royal banner of Scotland and close beside | the rampant lion the lilies of France. “St. Bride!” cried the earl. ‘Have they brought the King of Scots to visit me? His majesty had been better at his horn book or playing ball in the tennis court of Sterling.” Then came David back, riding swiftly on his fine dark chestnut, which, being free from the mantle in which the horses of knights were swathed, and having its and tail left long, made a gallant show as the lad threw it almost on its haunches in his pride of horsemanship. “William,” said David Douglas, “a word in your ear, brother. The whole tribe are here—fat Jamie and all his clan!” The brothers conferred a little apart, for in those troubled times men learned cau- OF HER PALFRE the breaking point: but he wished not pany and its various adjacent bourgs of £ use a disturbance among so great a com- nd on a day ef such renown. At last they came to the muster of the clean-run limber lads of Kelton, artificers mostly, and stated retainers of the castle riin- wark. Rhorehouse, Gelsion Ma! and 'Thrieve. Some one immediat the elbow, and shout¢ was the company he desired to see. he rode forward to the left hand nephew. as Malise and he passed down the line, examining the weapon “Laurence MacKim! I would see Lau- rence MacKim!” cried the abbot, holding up his hand, as if in the chapel of hiv mon- astery. The earl stopped, and Malice turned right about on bis heel in great as- ty took the abbot » in his ear that this Then of his stowly tonishment. “What wants old Marrowbones with our Larrie? muttered. “Surely he cannot have gotten into mischief with the lassics already. But I kenna—I kenna. When J was sixteen I can mind—I can mind. And the loon may well be his father’s own con.” And Malise, the man of braw ched be was ty come out of his quiet g! bot William, wonde next. Laurence steed forth at a word of com- eyes the Ing what mand from the earl. He saluted and then dropped the point of his sword meekty "pon the ground. His white and rose chernb’s face expressed the utmost geodness and in- nocence. : Year kinsman.” said the abbot to his nephew, “I have a reanest to prefer which T Lope you will grant. though it deprive This youth is not fit nd rufflers of yeu of one retainer. company for rude soldiers the camp. His mind is already on nigher things. He bath good. clerklv Latin, also emg skilled in the humanities, as T have ‘d proven with mine own ears. His of cangurge and deportment is man- , and he can sing the sweetest and mest spirituel songs in praise of M and the saints. I would have him In our choir where we have much need both of a volce such as his, and also youth whose sanetity and ‘innocence leaven with the grace of the spirit the reophytes of our college, and the consider- ation of which may even bring repentance into olde* ane more hardened hearts." Malise MacKim could not believe his ears as he listened to the abbot’s rounded pe- ods. But all the same his gray eyes twin- kied, his mouth slowly drew itself together into the round of an O, from which issued a long, low whistle, perfectly audible to al! about him except the abbot. Lord have merey on the innocence and cloistered quiet of the neophytes ‘f they get our Lacrie for an example!” muttered Malise to himself as he turned away. Even the young earl smiled, perhaps re- membering the last time he had seen the ¢ Sweetheart Abbey youth before him, clutching and tearing like a wildcat at his brother's throat smithy at Carlinwark. “You desire the Ife of a cierk?” said Lord William, pleasantly, to Laurence. He would gladly have purchased his uncle's at even a greater price. “If your lordstip pleases, ‘aid Laurence, meekly, adding to himself: “It cannot be so hard work as hammering at the forge, and if I Ike {t not, why then I can always run away.” You think you have a call to become a holy clerk “I feel it here!” quoth Master Laurence, hypocritleally, indicating correctly, how! ever, the organ whose wants have made clerks of so many—that is, the stomach. rl William smiled yet more broadly, anxious to be gone, he said: “Mine here is the lad’s father, Malise Mac- ter armorer and right good servant. Ask bim concerning his so! “Tis all up a rotten tree now!” muttered urence. “My father will reveal all.” Malise MacKim smiled grimly, but with a salutation to the dignitary of the church and relative of his chief, he said: “Trul: had never thought of this; my son’ as werthy to be a holy clerk. But I wiil not stand in the way of his advancement or thwart your favor. Take him for a year on trial, and if you can make a monk of him do so, and welcome. I recommend a icath- ern strap, well hardened in the fire, for the purpose of making a beginning. ‘He shall it.dced have penance if he need it For the good of the soul must the body suffer!” said Abbot William, sententiously. “Saint's bones and cracklings!” muttered Laurence. “This is none so cheerful. But I can always run away if the strap grows overlimber, and then let them catch me ‘if they can. Sholto will help me.” “Fall out,"" commanded the earl, sharply, “and join yourself to the company of Abboi William. Come, Malise, we lose our time.” Thus was one of our heroes brougiit into the way of becoming a learned and holy clerk. Bit those who knew him best agreed that he had a far road to travel. in the CHAPTER XI. The Ambassador of France. ‘The earl Lad almost arrived at the pavil- tion early, and ‘though the Douglas the greatest, man in Scotland, rounded by meaner men as he was, i! hooved him™at all times life and honor. Earl Douglas. came ‘out of the sparred inclosure of the iit ring in order to Te- ceive his guests. First. an escort to the royal amba: dors of France and-Scotland, who came be- hind, rode the Earl of Avondale and his. four sons, noble young men. and all un- likely to have sprung from such a stock. James the Gross rode a broad Clydesdale mare, a short. soft, unwieldly man, sit- ting squat on the saddie like a frog astride a roof, and glancing sidewise out of the pursy recesses of his ey Behind him came his eldest son William, of a true Douglas countenance, quick, high and stern. Then followed James, whose lithe body and wondrous dexterity in arms were already winning him repute as one of the bravest knights in all christendom in every military and knightly exer Behind the Avondale Douglas rode men abreast, tween them. The first to take the eye both by his stat- ure and remarkable appearance, rode a charger covered from head to tail in the gorgeous red and gold diamond trappings pertaining to a marshal of France, He was in complete armor be- to be jealous of his ss two with a lady ona palfrey b and wore his visor down. A long blue feather floated from his helmet, falling almost upon the flank of his horse. A truncheon of gold and black was at his side. A pace behind him the lies of France were displayed, float- ing out languidly from a banner the hands of a young squire. The knight behind whom royal of Scotland fluttered was a different mold. His spare frame buried in the suit of armor which somewhat awkwardly. His. pale face looked more in place ira‘ cloister than on a knightly titi and he glanced this way swift and furtive suspi while setting one trap. in another. But the lady who rode on a white palfrey between these two took all mene ree even in the presence of a marshe Franc and a herald of the Ki Bit eee staff in the banner man of seemed he wore ascetic a monkish ng ground, and that with the jon of one who, fears to be taken h & of Scots The Earl Douglas having let his eyes ones mest upon ‘her, could mbt acei oe them, being, as it were, sparen of the wonder which he at aoe It was the lady of the pavili der- neath the pines, the lady be tievesetee light and the midnight storm, f he was no longer clothed fn simple ite, but arrayed lke a king's dace On her head was a high peaked coiffure, from which there flowed down a gracetat cloud of finest lace. This, even as the earl looked at her, she caught at with a be witching gesture and brougat’ over’ her shoulder with her gloved hand. A clo: fitting robe of palest blue outlined the Pp fections of her body. A single fleur-de-li: in gold was embroidered on the breast of her white bodice, and the same device ap- peared again and again on the white hous ing of her palfrey. She sat in her saddle gently smiling, and logking down with a sweetness which was either the perfection of finished coquett pethe expression of the finest natural mod- esty. 7 Strangely enough the firs came to the Earl Dougla: prise was one in which tri ed with mirth. “What will the abbot and M 2 a ile he — half aloud. Rae aoe e im about in order to lo face of his master armorer, ce vuronthe He found Malise MacKim’ ashen pale and drawn of coyntenance, the mouth open amd squared wita wonder. His jaw was fallen slack and his hands gripped one upon the other like those of one praying to. the Saints. is The carl smiled and bidding Malise un- lace bis helmet in compliment to his Suests, he stood bareheaded before them, his head appearing ubove the blackness of his armor, bright as a flower with youth, and instinct with the flery beauty of his race. It was James the Gross who came for- ward to act as herald. “My well-beloved nephew,” he began, in somewhat whining tones. “I bring you two royal embassies one from the King of France and the other from tke King of Scotland. 1 have the t thought which 8 after his sur- ‘umph was blend- honor to present to you Marshal Giles de Retz, ambassador of the most Christian king, Charles VIE, who will presently de- liver his master's message to you.” The marshal, who till now’ had kept his visor down, slowly raised it, and revealed a face which, after being once seen, could never afterward be banished from the mem- ory. It was a large gray-white counte- nance, with high cheek bones and colorless lips, which were continually working one upon the other. Black eyes were set close together under .heavy, hairless brows, and a long, thin nose curved between them, like the beak of an unclean bird. “Bari William,” said the marshal, “I bid you greeting in the name of your liege lord, Charles, King of France, and also in that of his son, the dauphin Louis. 1 bring you also a further token of their good will, in that I hail you heir to the great estates and dignities of your father and grandfather, dukes of Touraine and pre- mier vassals of the King of France. The young man bowed, but in spite of the interest cf his message, the marshal caught his eyes resting upon the face of the lady who rode beside him. “To this I add that which, save for the ressage of the king my master, ought filly to have come first. I present you to this fair lady, my niece, the Damosel Sybilla de Thouars, late maid of henor to your high princess, Margaret of Scotland, who of late hath expanded into a yet fairer flower un- der the sur of our land of France.” The earl dismounted and threw the reins of his horse to Malise, whose face wore an expression of bitterest disappointment and Instinctive hatred. Then he went to the side of the Lady Sybilla, and, taking her hand, he bowed his head over it, touch- ing {t with his lips with every token of re- spect. Still bareheaded, he took the reins of her palfrey and led her to the stand re- served for the queen of beauty. Here being arrived, the earl invited her to dismount and occupy the central seat. “Till your arrival it lacked an occupant, but today the gods have been good to the house of Douglas, and for the first time since the death of my father I see it filled.” Smilingly the lady consented, and with a wave of his hand the Earl William invited the Marshal de Retz to take the place on the other side of the Lady Sybilla. Then turning haughtily to the herald of the King of Scots, who had been standing alone, he said: “And now, sir, what would you with the Earl Douglas?” The monkish man found his ords with little loss of time, showing, howover, no resentment for Earl William's neglect of any reverence to the banner un- der whose protection he came. “Iam Sir James Irving of Drom, and I stand here on behalf of Sir Alexander Livingston, tutor and guardian of the King of Scots, to invite your friendship and aid. The Lord Crichton, sometime chancellor of this realm, hath rebelled against the royal authority and fortified him in Edinburgh Castle. “So, both Sir Alexander Livingston and the most noble lady, the queen mother, desire the assistance of the great power of the Earl of Douglas to suppress this re- ae Scarcely had these words heen uttered when another knight stepped forward out of the train which had followed the Earl of Avondale. “I am here on behalf of the chancellor of Scotland, who is no rebel against any right authority, but who wishes only to bring this distracted realm back into some 2 s sured peace, and to deliver the young king out of the hands of flatterers and letchers. I have the honor of requesting on behalf. of the chancellor of Scotland, Sir William Crichton, the true representative of royal authority, the aid and alliance of my Lord of Douglas!” A smile of hav the face of the e ighty contempt passed over rl, and he dismissed both heralds, uttering in the hearing of all those words which afterward became so famous over Scotland: “Let dog care?” dog—what should the lion CHAP’ Mistress Maud Lindesay. The sports of the first days of the great wappenshaw were over. The Lord James Douglas, second son of the Gross One, had won the tourneying by unhorsing all his opponents without even breaking a lance. Sholto MacKim wore on his cap the golden buckle of hery, and took his way hap- pily homeward, much uplifted that the somewhat fraudulent e Maud Lindesa ss of Mistress had smiled upon him while the French lady was preening it there. The knightly part of the great muster had gone back to their tents and lodgings. The commonaliy were mostly stringing away throuch the vales and hili passes to ir homes, no longer in ordered com- panies, but in bands of two or three. Dis- putes and misunderstandings arose here and there between men of different prov- inces. The Galloway men called “Annan- dale thieves at those border men who came at the summons of the herditary der of the Marches. The borderers re- plied by loud bleatings, which signified that they held the Gallowegians of no better un- derstanding than their native sheep. It was a strange and varied company which rode home to Thrieve to receive the horpitality of the young Earl of Douglas and Duke of Touraine. The castle itself being no more than a military fortress, centaining, in addition to the soldiers’ quarters, only the apartments designed for the family (and scant enough of those), could not, of course, accommodate so great a company. But. as was the custom at all great keuscs, ‘thougk more in England. and France than in poverty-stricken Scotland, the Earl of Douglas had in stor> «an abundant supply of tents, some pf them Woven of arras and ornamented with cloth of gold, others of humbler but equally serviccable material. His mother, the Countess of Douglas, who knew nothing of the occurrences of the night of the great storm, or guessed at the suspicions of witchcraft and diablerie which made a hell of the breast of Malise, the master armorer. received her son's guests with distinguished courtesy. Malise himself had gone so soon as he set eyes on the companion of the Marshal de Detz to find the abbot, that they might consult together. only, however, to discover that the gentle churchman had quitted the field as soon as he had obtained the consent of his nephew to the possession of the new cherister, to whom he had taken so sud- den and ‘violent a fan The hoofs of the whole cavalcade were scon sounding hollow and dull upon the woolen bridge which the earl’s father had erected from the left bank to the southera, nest corner of the Isle of Thrieve, bridge which a single charge of powder or even a few strokes of a woodman’s ax The Lady Pinned on the Cross. would have been sufficient to remove or disable, but which nevertheless enabled the castle dwellers to avoid the extreme in- convenience of passing the ford at all states of the river. Sholto MacKim, with all the consctous- ness of a shining success in the stiffness of the neck which upheld the slight addi- tional weight of the earl’s gold buckle in his cap, found himself, not wholly by acci- dent, in the immediate neighborhood where his heart's beloved, Maud Lindesay, like a valiant seneschal, had kept her place all day close beside the maid of Galloway, as Margaret of Douglas was already called. And now the little girl was more than ever eager to keep near to her fair “gou- vernante,” for the ambassador of the King of France had bent one look upon her, so strange and searching that Margaret, though not naturally timid, had cried aloud involuntarily and clasped her friend's hard with a grasp which she refused to Icosen till Sholto had promised to walk by the side of her pony and aliow her to net her trembling fingers in the thick of his elvstering curis. For the armorer’s son was in those sim- ple days an ancient ally of the little noble damsel, and he dreamed, and not without some excuse, that in an age when every Wan’s strong arm and brave heart consti- tuted his fortune, the time might come when he might even himself to Maud Lindesay, baron’s daughter though she was. For both his father and himself were already high in favor with their master, the earl, who could create knights and cis- pose lordships as easily and much more effectually and finally than the king him- self. ‘The emissaries of the chancellor and Sir Alexander Livingston did not accompany the others back to the castle, after the short and haughty answer which they had received, but with their followers returned the way they had come to-their several headquarters, giving, as was natural be- tween foes so bitter, a wide berth to each other on their northward journeys to Edin- burgh and Stirling. What think you of this day’s doings, Mistress Lin¢esay?” asked Sholto, as he swung alons beside the train with little Margaret of Dougias’ hand still clutching the thick curls at the back of his neck. The maid-of-honor tossed her shapely head. and with a little pretty upward curl of the lip exclaimed: “Twas a stupid day as ever I saw. There was not a single handsome knight nor yet one beautiful lady on the fieid this da “What of James of Avondale when knights are being judged?” said Sholto with a kind of gloomy satisfaction, boyish and characteristic, “he looked often enough in your direction to prove that he did not agree with you about the lack of the beau- tiful lad At this Maud Lindesay elevated her pret- ty nostrils yet further into the air, “James ot Avondale, indeed,” she said; “he is not to be compared, either for dignity or strength, with the earl himself, nor yet with many others whom I know of lesser estate.” “Sholto MacKim,” cried the clear, piping voice of the little Margaret, “how in the world am I to keep hold of your hair if you shake and jerk your head like that? If you do not keep still I will send for that pretty boy over there in the scarlet vest, or ask my cousin James to ride with me. And he will, too, I know, for he likes bravely to be beside my dear Maud Lindesay.” Sholto held his head erect and forthlook- ing as if he had been under the inspection of the earl and were doubtful of his weap- ons passing muster. There came a subtle and roguish smile in the eyes of Mistress Maud Lindesay as she observed the sudden stiffening of Sholto’s bearing. “Foul feet, slow bellies, fushionless and slack are ye to run my lord’s errands, but quick enow to return home upon your tramping, clattering ruck of ho’ and ex- pecting to ride over my bridge of good pine planking instead of washing the dirt from your hoofs in Dee water. The long files of horsemen threaded thetr Way across the green plain of the isle to- ward the open space in front of Thrieve castle, the points of their spears shining high in the air and the shafts so thick that seen from a distance they made a network of slender lines reticulated against the sun. The great island fortress of the Doug- lases was then in its highest state of per- fection as a fortress and dignity as a resi- dence. Archibald the Grim, who built the keep, could not have foreseen the wond- rous beauty and strength to which Thrieve had attained under his successors. This night of the Wappenshaw the lofty gray walls were hung with gayly colored tapes- tries draped from the overhanging gallery of wood which ran round the top of the castle. From the four corners of the roof flew the banners of four provinces which owned the sway of the mighty house, Gal- y.Annandale, Lanark and the Marches, while from the center, on a taller flagstaff than any, flew tne standard royal, for so it might be called, the heart and stars of the Douglases’ more thaa royal house. The outer walls thus blazed with cole and the woods around gave back the con- stant reverberation of artillery, as with nd guns and artillery of weight the gar- reeted the return of the earl and bis The green castle island from end was thick with tents and gay with pavilions of many hues and various design, their walls covered with devices, and each flying the colors of its owners, while on poles without dangled shields and harness of various Kinds, ready for the younger squires to clean and oil for the use of their masters on the remaining days of the tour- nament. Sholto waited at the bridge head, im- patient with the press, and eager to be left alone with bis own thoughts, that he might Bo over and over the words and looks of his heart’s idol, and suck all the sweet pain he could out of her hardheartedness. Sud- denly passed backward from lip to lip, ac- cording to the universal, and, indeed, ob- ligatory, custom of the time. there reached him the “passing of the word.” He heard his own name repeated over and over, in fifty voices and tones, waxing louder as the “word” neared him. “Sholto MacKim—Sholto MacKim, son of Malise, the armorer, wanted to speak with the earl. Sholto MacKim! Sholto —" A great nolt of a Moray highlandman with a mouth like a gash, shouted in his very ear. (To be continued.) ART AND ARTISTS. In Mr. E. C. Messer’s studio the results of his summer's work at Paxson are be- sinning to be more and more apparent. With him outdoor studies are rarely a good indication of the quality of the work that he will send to the winter exhibitions. The real work of the year is done in the stu- dio, where he wrestles with his sketches until he evolves pictures possessing har- mony, artistic feeling and, above all, the distinct note of personal style. It is rare indeed that he can take hold of a canvas painted in the open air, and, carrying it forward in the studio, create one of his best pictures. Usually his most successf.! landscapes are those which he starts en- tirely afresh, and bases on e outdoor sketch without binding hin: rigidly to the exact arrangement or composition. He has started a number of pictures in that manner this fail, and though he has hard finished a single one, several want only the last touches of ‘the brush. Among these subjects evening motives predom- inate, and one of his favorite effects ap- pears More than once—the effect seen at sunset when the last rays of golden light still linger on the very tops of the trees. In one of bis largest canvases, a work which promises to be a very striking exht bition picture, he has depicted a twilight effect, In which the pale sky throws the large masses of trees into a dim silhouette. * ** Mr. Parker Mann has been busy preparitions to sail for England, he expects to start in a short time little probability of his paying even a flying visit to Washington. According to present plans, he will remain in England this win- ter, renewing some old friendships and de- voting such time as he chooses to painting. He looks forward to returning to his cot- tage in East Gloucester next summer, though it is likely he will go abroad again in the cnsuing autumn. This year the un- favorable weather at Gloucester prevented him from accomplishing as much work as he had hoped to do, but in spite of the drawbacks encountered he made a number of delightful pastels, choosing for his sub- Jects the moorland scenes of which he has always been so fond. While it is likely he may be represented now and then in our local exhibitions, it ts understood that there is littie probability of his returning to Washington to live, and the artistic frater- nity here sustains a severe loss in the de- parture of a member who has been so active and energetic in forwarding art in- terests. making and as there js * “* Next Friday and Saturday are the dates set for receiving pictures entered for the third annual exbibiticn of the Water Color Club, and all those interested hop2 for a large showing of high-grade work. Pictures will be received at the rear entrance of the new gallery of the S. W. A., 1020 Con- necticut avenue, between the hours of 9:30 am. and 6 p.m. There will be a press view on Saturday, November 19th, and on the following Monday the exhibition will be thrown open to the public, the pictures re- maining on view for two weeks. Ths scope of the exhibition is much as usual, only works in water color, pastel and black and white being eligible, but the number of pictures which any cne artist may exhibit has been extend2d to eight. The system of using entry blanks has been discontin- ued, and the entry slips or labels used in New York have been adopted. These la- bels may b2 secured by applying to the chairman of the board of managers, Mr. J. H. Moser, 1220 © «treet. ie 3 =* At Fischer's gajler, vite a group of mis- cellaneous paintings serve as a kind of ad- vance guard to the exhibitions that are to follow when the season has b>en regularly inaugurated. Among these Gaspar Netsch- ers portrait of himself, painted at quite an early age, is perhaps the most fascinat- ing thing of that sort that has been shown there in a long time. The Iikeness has all the elements of what Sir Joshua Reynolds called the “grand style” in portraiture—re- finement, elegance and dignified simplicity The fac? is painted with a perfection of color and texture that leaves litle to be desired, and the ensemble makes the por- trait by Lawrence, hanging nearby, seem almost commonplacs, in spite of all its boldness of treatment. There ts also exhibition a weil-arranged group of figur: by Israelis, an attractive evening landsca by Delpy, one of the best pupils of Dau- bigny, a cattle study by Troyon, a cleverly painted genre subject by Toby Rosenthal and a church interior by Salinas. The lat ter canvas has all the glitter and brillancy of the Fortuny school and ts painted with @ rather singular combination of delicacy and boldness. * -* A number of water colors testify to Mr J. H. Moser’s industry during the past few months, many of the sketches being taken here in the city and the rest being subjects. seen on the short excursions which he t a into Virginia during the warm weather, everal of his best sketches were made in the vicinity of Clifton Forge, and depict t Mh, forest-covered mountains. with Wreaths of mist rising from ‘the valleys Among the sketches made right > Washington there is a very tru ed evening effect se all n near the A « bridge, a sober quiet ve full of the sentiment of repo: As examples of ar Ustic @kill the flower garden studies mad near the Agricultural building are of un usual interest, for tn these he has shown the brilliancy and glitter of the sunshine the semi-transparent beauty of the leaves when seen against the sunlight, and h troved his mastery of many of the mos’ difficult problems of painting. Mr. Mow fxpects to move into a studio on F street before long. * ** Mr. Paul Putzki has been holding throurh- out the week an exhibition of his work In china decoration in his studio in the M ott building, and the display new pieces of artistic merit. vorite flowers with him, difficult to find Includes many Roses are fa- and it would be anything more graceful in errangement or more thoroughly charming in color than his set of plates decorated with the different arieties of roses. Equa!- ly attractive is the decoration of a larg vase, the roses possessing a dewy freshness that cannot fail to please. In thi similar vase, decorated with a ign, Mr. in strongly and in orchid Putzki has shown great skill accenting certain of the flowers ond in suggesting the greater remotence of the others by allowing the leaves nnd pms almost to melt into the back- round. While there is a. difference opinion among decorators as to the appre priateness of this method of treatment Some believing that the design should ty handled in the flat style of ie, it is certain that Me. Putzki red thoroughly the difficulties of the style ts he has chosen. ie ga! * * * The sculptor, Mr. Ferdinand C. Leim>r, has now on exhibition at Veerhoff's thrae examples of his handiwork, the bust of the late Maj. William G. Moore having, per- haps, the most general inter This bust was made for the police department, to ty ITesented on the Gay of the poller parad to the family of the late chief, and thos who have seen it unite in considering 31 a excelent liken, The ne is tre bust of Secretary Porter, and it see if the sculptor’s strongest point is his fa-- ulty of getting a good likeness. from artistic standpoint ihe bust of Mr. Leiner a small nephew is, perhaps, the most int: esting of the three, so natural and lifeike is the expression. * * * Mr. Walter Paris spent the greater part of the summer in Ipswich, Mass. part of his time to painting the fascinating landscape subjects in that vicinity having for his main aim the making historical record of the many old are tural landmarks which are to be sec: every corner of the town, but which sre sradually disappearing. Few towns tn that part of the country have as interesting and picturesque examples of architecture, dat- ing back into the colonial period, and Mr. Paris’ sketches ar. of a good deal of inis- toric value, besides giving pleasure in a purely aesthetic way. He worked with un- tiring industry all summer, and when, late in Septemter, just before his departure, he gave a couple of exhibitions of his season's work, he was able to display tc the number of more than giving but ot a ites- water colors four score None of these showed that any ureat length of time had been expended upon it but each was complete and finished as to the details, and was not slighted in part. While Mr Parts’ very Iteral ner of working appeared to best advantaz. in the architestural subjects, several of his landscapes were quite striking, especially phe which contained unusual cloud ef- ‘ects. any man- Sees Snakes in Austr From Chambers’ Journal. There are five kinds of venomous snakes in Victoria; the tiger snake, the black srake, the brown snake, the copperhead and the death adder. The last-mentiored is very r: " ‘are in Vic- tcria and very venomous. It is about two et long, very thick in proportion to its length, of a dull brown color and with a flat, wide head. The strangest thing about that many people believe its sting is contained in the tail. Leaving the death adder out of the count, there are four species which are fairly com. men. The tiger snake comes first, in popu- la> esti ded tion if not in reality. “Tt is S the most venomous and - most Sevage. It attains in some districts a length of about six feet, but the major of specimens are from three to four feet long. Its coloring is variegated, black and brown on the back, and pale brown on the belly. When attacked, it sometimes raises its head to a height of a foot from the grcund; and its appearance then, as it rests on its coils with its head seemingly widened out, its neck contracted, its fork- ed tongue flickering out of its mouth, and its eyes blazing with rage, makes the aver- age man rather chary of approaching. One good point ts that the backbone of all snakes is easily broken by a blow from a stick, and the power of locomotion 1s thus taken away. Next on the list is the black snake. ‘This {s rather larger than the tiger, and the handsomest of all Vic- torian snakes. The back is jet black, and shines like a well-polished boot, and the belly is a beautiful salmon pink. "It ts I common than the tiger snake, and is very frequently confounded with the copperhead The brown snake is brown on the back, whitish-brown on the belly an@ about the same length as the other two. The com- monest of all, at any rate near Melbourne, is the copperhead, which ts found in most parts of Victoria. As its name implies, it has a copper head, a dark back and a yel- lowish belly. +e All Washington an Audience. The Star's “Wanted Help and Situations” columns are carefully read by thousands daily. Fifteen cents pays for fifteen words, —s koe a fish)—“I'm feared I") loose my '—Punch. . half-crown flee!”.