"Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou | costly, and new. The boy ripped open me?' " he murmured. "Yea, Lord! one of the over-stuffed sofas, and made yea, Lord! and Marcus my son; "he Prudence make him a comfortable was sleeping again. When the lessons cushion or two. From this room Simon began next morning Marcus was for was excluded by the doctor's orders. the first time listless -- leant his head Marcus was proud of the tremendous upon his hand; then he fell forward; four-poster, with its stiff drapery, and Electa caught him in her arms. She revelled in the great fluffy feather bed, called loudly for Prudence. "Send for and was soon gay and bright in the Dr. Rawdon ! Quick! at once!" By pride of possessing a room of his own. good luck the doctor was just passing Simon began to live apart now. His the lodge; in five minutes he was ex- Peterite fancies returned in fuller force amining the boy, who was lying uncon- than ever. He took his meals in state, scious, his mother supporting his head demanding that Electa should stand and bathing his face with water. behind his chair and Marcus at his side. It was the homage due to him from the wife and son whom he had almost renounced. He was engaged upon a new and important volume — an expansion of the pamphlet which had so signally failed. Marcus was allowed to go out and roam among the plantations now grown into thick woods, that had been neglected for years, but outside the park palings he was sternly forbidden to roam. SomeYes, he was nearly thirteen. The times he would even climb the trees doctor gently lifted his eyelids, put his and look out on the illimitable world hand upon his head, looked very grave. | beyond. How far did it stretch? He soon came to himself. Simon stood where was that Rome where Simon a little way off, looking stupid and be- Peter died with his head downwards? wildered. And Babylon, with that vast temple? "Take him to his room, ma'am, and | Was Peter's wife like his mother, lay him on his bed." bore her name? How could he get to

Dr. Rawdon was an able and sagacious man. He was noted for never talking of his patients to others; their secrets, he used to say, were their secrets; it was infamy for a medical man to divulge what only he could know. This had won him the confidence of Simon, who was just a little afraid of him.

"How old is the boy now? He must be past twelve, isn't he ? "

And

who

"He sleeps in our room, doctor. He Babylon? Did she stay and die there has done so for years."

"He must never do that again. Mr. Ryan if you don't take care you'll lose this boy; you're working him to death."

when the great apostle went away to martyrdom? He became a dreamer. When the birds sang he answered them. Would he ever get to know their language ?

V.

He

From that day the teaching came to an end; Marcus was left to his own devices as far as books were concerned. It was during this period that I, by He had a bad fortnight of it. He slept what seemed a mere chance, had gained himself into a recovery; but he was admittance to the curious household. frail and languid. Electa took pos- At my second visit Simon was waiting session of him; Simon's occupation for me with a plot against me. seemed gone. She sent for an uphol- made a dead set at the young parson sterer to fit up what had been the who had been rash enough to declare nursery. It was done regardless of that he was prepared to learn from expense, but the man was told there those who were qualified to teach him. must be no silk or satin and no gay I had hardly taken my seat before I colors. It assumed a dull, dreary, mas- was bidden to listen to the voice of sive appearance. Heavy rep curtains truth. To my dismay I was told that and ugly armchairs and sofas, solid, he was going to read me the first chap

"You take me first and then I'll take you."

It was uttered in a kind of hurried gasp, and in great excitement.

ter of his "Message to the Perverted." | afraid lest the permission should be For more than an hour did I submit, retracted. For the first time I noticed and I was rewarded for my patience what ought to have been plain to me and humility. My reward was au op- before-that there was that dangerous portunity of talking to Marcus. I was yellow hue on his cheek which always very careful in my approaches. I tells a sad tale- the patch of carmine talked lightly, gaily. Simon listened, grew deeper, then faded away; the and was evidently glad I should go on. pupils of the eyes were distended, and There was not the sign of jealousy, as we reached the air he coughed a and when I began to walk up and down short, hard cough once and again. the aisle the old man's face assumed an expression of half amusement. I think he took it as a compliment that I should imitate him. Electa kept her place behind his chair, always with downcast eyes, but I felt she was watching me. Marcus would every now and then walk beside me, trying to keep To the church we marched. pace with my long strides. One day I Some one had lately presented an began to ask him some conundrums. organ to the parish, and one of the He never guessed them, but when the neighboring clergy happened to have answer came he would clap his hands come to try the instrument. Mr. Benwith childish glee and run to Simon. son himself was blowing the bellows. "Did you hear that, father?" and We passed through the lodge gates desometimes break into a laugh. It was fiantly, and when some fifty yards from all so new to them all, and so evidently the church Marcus stopped, with parted new that to me it was almost painfully lips, and put his hand upon my arm. pathetic. During all this time-for my visits extended over several weeks I had hardly exchanged a word with the lady Electa.

One day I called much earlier than usual at the Manor House. I had only another fortnight to remain at Carlton. The spring had set in with much less than its usual severity. The tassels were red upon the larches; the primroses were smiling graciously on the banks; the blackthorn was almost going off; the leaves were unfolding in the sunshine. Simon looked up wearily, his face in his hands. Electa was standing behind his chair, her chin leaning on her folded hands.

"Where shall I take you?" "Take me to the church. I want to see the inside of a church ! "

"What's that?" He had actually never heard a musical instrument before in his life. He hurried in at a

ruu.

Just as we got inside the porch that overwhelming outburst in Beethoven's "Hallelujah to the Father" broke forth as if with a greeting of rapturous praise. Marcus made one step forward, and clung for support to the back of the nearest seat, staring at vacancy, trembling and haggard. The rector pointed sternly to the lad to take off his hat. Marcus heeded notstood there as in a trance, a deadly pallor upon his face. Suddenly the music stopped, for the wind was out. Marcus uttered a piercing cry and covered his face with his hands. Sobs came from "Mr. Ryan, may Marcus take me him with such violence of emotion that through the woods and show me the I threw my arms round him to support way "" ? him. It was several minutes before he became calm. I took him back to the house. We had not walked two miles, yet he was almost prostrated before we reached the library, and he looked very ill.

66

Young sir, Marcus my son may take you where you will. And you may take him wherever he fain would go."

The boy jumped up from his usual seat in the window. He seized me by the hand and hurried me along, as if

"Mr. Ryan, I'm afraid Marcus your son is very, very far from well. I am

going to send Dr. Rawdon to look at the oracle of God. I count it not
him. I pass his house on my way, and strange, concerning the fiery trial that
it is time for me to get back. Electa
darted an eloquent look of gratitude at
me. Marcus was lying listlessly on one
of the old sofas.

is coming on my house, as if some strange thing were happening. As for you, you see but a little way, but you will not feed your flock for filthy lucre.

"There's a voice that bids me not No! The man of Tarsus will not lead say nay to you to-day, young sir."

Next week I could not get over to
Carlton. The week after I went to say
fare well. Simon had grown slow and
feeble, I think he must have had a
slight seizure.
He was quite alone.
Where was the lady Electa? "She
hath forsaken me!" was all he an-
swered. The truth was, she was with
her son.
There had been a sad revolt
from his authority. Marcus was des-
perately ill. Dr. Rawdon with almost
brutal frankness told her the boy was
dying. The mother found her courage
and resolve in the face of the dreary
prospect. It came at last to this.
"Simon, if I must choose, I take my
post beside my son! You may curse
me, you may kill me; I will never
leave my boy again.' From that time
she never left the poor lad's bed. For
the disease, as often happens, had de-
veloped with frightful rapidity, and he
had not a month of life remaining.

I raised my voice intentionally. Pru-
dence came in without knocking; all
the old ceremony had gone. The very
servants looked angrily and reproach-
fully at the old man.

66

My lady wants you, sir!"
With some remaining dignity he
rose, though feebly.

66

Young sir, last time, you know, you took from me Marcus my son; now I will take you back to him !"

I stayed not long in that sick-room, it was too painful for us all. I rose to go.

I tried to say farewell, but I was choking. Simon was the first to recover himself. He was the prophet with a call once more.

"Bear witness, young sir! I have towards you used hospitality without grudging, and I have spoken to you as

you astray! The lady Electa, with me, saluteth you, and so doth Marcus my son. Greet ye one another with a

kiss of charity."

He came slowly to me, and kissed me on the cheek. He felt my tears upon his lips and kissed me on the other cheek, shuddered, and sat down, pointing to Electa. I kissed her forehead. Marcus tried to raise himself and sank back, "Kiss him, mother! and then "— looking at me tearfully "kiss me!" She raised my hand and kissed it. Then she put her son's arms round my neck as I bowed over him. I suppose I left that sad room on my own feet, but I only remember finding myself in the hall. "God bless you, sir, and reward you," said Prudence, handing me my hat. "You've brought them three together once again at last!"

Marcus died. Nothing would induce Simon to attend the funeral. When Electa declared she would see her boy in his grave, Simon moaned a protest, then assented; then insisted that all the house should go and leave him alone. He was obeyed. Harry Clarke came down and managed everything. When they came back to the house Simon was gone. He had been sadly shaken of late, and his speech affected, but he still took his slow and tottering walks in the grounds. There they searched for him, waited, became more and more alarmed. Suddenly Prudence glared in at the library door.

"Mr. Clarke !"

He started up and went out to her, scared by her look of horror.

"Mr. Clarke! he's up-stairs." They found him lying in the old coffin-dead!

From The Cornhill Magazine.
THE CARNARVON PENINSULA.

To the dispassionate Englishman the Welsh people do not seem anything like as interesting as their country. But that is, no doubt, because their beloved land is quite exceptionally attractive.

a wild night. I know well that the general character of the Welsh includes cleanliness in its list of attributes. This, however, does not apply to the Welsh of the peninsula. They are a people apart, living in the dust of their ancient habits. England seems as remote from them as Germany seems I was driven to an even harsher con- from us. What have they to do with clusion than this during my walks and it and its people? they not unnaturally residence in that somewhat benighted ask themselves. They are not like the district of North Wales known as the degenerate Kelts of such places of Carnarvon Peninsula. Look at it on tourist resort as Llanberis, Beddgelert, the map, and see what a long headland or Llandudno. These recreants actuit is, with the islet of Bardsey at the ally talk English over their teacups, toe, like Sicily in its relation to Italy. and attend chapel to hear English serWhen you are at Aberdaron, the little mons. The peninsula Welsh are of a village nearest Bardsey, you are about stouter and more national heart. Their sixteen miles from the railway. That, morals are of a high order. They for Great Britain, is pretty good. One would consider the publican who sold may therefore expect a little roughness beer on a Sunday as a child of perdiin this part of the realm, especially tion, and the tourist who demanded it when it is remembered that the inhab-as equally lost. They would have enitants all speak Welsh, and those of tire sympathy with the lady who the them who retain school history in their other day wrote plaintively to a journal minds have still strong views about of the principality asking advice about Edward the Conqueror, and think the spiritual state of a relative who had Owen Glendower one of the great fig- backslided so far as to spend an evenures in the world's gallery of immor- ing in a circus. tals.

The Welsh of the peninsula (it is called the Lleyn, which means the peninsula) do not pretend to have many graces of manner. The majority of them are much like those very ugly chapels of theirs - Salems, Zoars, Morials, Jerusalems, Bethels, etc.,· which stare with their rectangular or polygonal faces at the Saxon stranger as if they thoroughly resented his intrusion into their domain of influence. If, being thirsty, you ask them for a beverage, they tender you spring water. If, having lost your way, you inquire for a direction, you are either misunderstood and therefore misdirected, or you are treated with calm sniggers which prove you are in a foreign land to which your homebred tongue is an object of ridicule. If, after much persuasion, you induce the mistress of one of the nice, snug-looking white cottages, which pervade the landscape to take you in and bed you, unless you have a contempt for fleas you shall pass

They are not all like this, but the majority certainly are. I know nothing more depressing to the unprejudiced traveller than his experiences in the peninsula during a brief, restrained tour among the people on Sunday. They all look as if they yearned to attend the funeral of a very near relative. The boys do not whistle. The maidens are more than demure. The older folk are reputed to go to bed between morning service and evening service, having, I suppose, learnt a little of the philosophy of life. And even the young men wear black. Their ministers are, of course, mainly of the unrelenting school, which cannot promote vivacity. Calvin has much to answer for in Wales as well as in the Lowlands of Scotland.

The few exceptions are those who have journeyed into England and stayed there long enough to be inoculated with a little of our own proverbial liveliness and good sense. But even these people keep a tight hold upon

their imported notions and convictions. | may argue me a simpleton, but that For dear life's sake they must conform does not distress me in the least. to the conduct of their neighbors; else Such visitors as do find their way to they will be indicted at one or other of the toe of the Lleyn take the coach the terrible, miscalled social evening from Pwllheli. That is a tolerable meetings, when the flock attend chapel | route, though not the best. It is more simply and solely, as it seems, to pub- enlightening, if more laborious, to don licly pick holes in the characters of thick boots and walk by the coast each other. If, on such an occasion, a through Llanbedrog and Rhiw. One case is established against them, the minister has it in his prerogative to excommunicate them, pending repentance and confession as public as the charges brought against them.

thus sees a surprising number of bulls and sagacious colley dogs, a sufficiency of white Welsh cottages, in the proper season myriads of primroses and hyacinths, as well as gorse-crowned hills, I have in my mind one such excep- and (most cheerful sight of all) the tion. She is a girl to make the heroine superb breakers of the Atlantic combof a novel - young, fair, amiability it- ing into Hell's Mouth Bay in a line self, educated in England, yet patriotic more than three miles long. Also the to the backbone, and whose sweet En-landscapes over the principality must glish lisp and occasional misuse of be mentioned. These are not to be tenses and prepositions are seducing matched anywhere. One looks south lures for the susceptible British male. to St. David's Head, and all the cumber When I, a stranger, besought shelter of Snowdonia is seen to the north. in her mother's house, she it was who The route is distinctly unhackneyed. pleaded for me with the obdurate dame. The Welsh urchins regard you as a Later, she waited on me for three days marvel, to be reverenced or mocked with her own fair hands, sat with me according to their temperament. Of when I was solitary, unfolded her sim- houses of entertainment throughout ple, sweet young life to me while she the sixteen miles there may be two, leaned her cheek upon her palm, and and bread and cheese and ale is all apologized so prettily for her mother's these can afford the traveller. The many fleas and abundant dirt that I one at Rhiw is quite remarkable began to regard both these defects as small and unassuming, on the top of domestic qualities of distinction in the ridge between Hell's Mouth Bay the peninsula. She told me more of and Aberdaron, and any number of her soul, I surmise, than she has told centuries old. Here, while I rested in to the grim-faced, tawny-bearded per- the big chimney-corner of the common son who stalks up and down the village room, I learnt something of the famous under his halo of "the minister." Her astuteness of the Welshmen of the nature seems to me quite spotless. peninsula. A couple of them entered, Even the shred of native-born supersti- weatherworn and ragged. They talked tion which she retained was comely in a species of English. "We are poor her. She told me how her belief in chaps, sir, we are," said the spokesman the spirit-world had made her over and of the two. "But your glass is empty, over again leave her warm bed in the what will you drink?" Their innodead of night and kneel just as she was cent ruse succeeded, of course, as it in the middle of the room, appealing to deserved to succeed. The large-bodied her deceased father to give her a sign Welsh woman who served the ale prethere and then that he was watching tended she knew no English, but there over her. No sign had been given, was the ghost of a gleam in her stolid but still she believed. eyes as she brought in another quart at my expense.

I find I have commemorated this pretty girl in my note-book in these words: 66 I could love this girl; what a My confession

white soul she has ! "" LIVING AGE.

VOL. II.

92

The two hills of Llanbedrog and Rhiw are so steep that few vehicles care to tackle them. The coach goes