CIHM Microfiche Series (Monographs) ICMH Collection de microfiches (monographies) Canadian Institute for Historical Microreprc -ons / l.istitut canadien de microreproductions historiques Technical /aphic Notes / rjotes techniques et biblioqraphiques The Institute has -:t,en" igi .j .•otain the best original copy available for fil.r.irp Features of this copy which may be bibliographically unique, which may alter any of the images in the reproduction, or which may si^inificpntly change the usual method of filming are checked below. □ D D D □ D D D Coloured covers / Couverture de couleur Covers damj^ged / Couverture endommagee D Covers restored and/or laminated / Couverture restauree ety'ou pelliculee Cover ti.fe missing / Le litre de couverture manque Coloured maps / Cartes geographiques en couleur Coloured ink (i.e. other than blue or black) / Encre de couleur (i.e. au!re que bleue ou noire) Coloured plates and/or lilusirations / Planches et'ou illustrations en couleur Bound With other mateiial / Relie avec d'autrec documents Only edition available / Seule edition disponible Tight binding may cause ihadov;s or distortion along interior margin / La reliure serree peut causer ce I'ombre ou de la distorsion le long de la marge interieure. Blank leaves added during restorations may appear within the text. Whenever possible, these have been omitted from filming / II se peut que certames pages blanches ajoutees lors d'une restauration apparaisser.; dans le texte, mais, lorsque cela etait possible, ces pages n'ont pas etc film.ees. Additional comments / Commentaires supplementaires: L'lnstitut a miorofilme le meiileur exemplaire qu'il lui a ete possible de se procurer. Les details de cet exem- plaire qui sont peut-etre uniques du point de vue bibli- ographique, qui peuvent modifier una image reproduite, ou qui peuvent exiger une modification dans la metho- de normale de filmage sont indiques ci-dessous. I I Coloured pages / Pages de couleur I I Pages damaged / Pages endommagees I I Pages restored and/or laminated / . 1 Pages restaurees et/ou pelliculees Pages discoloured, stained or foxed / Pages decolorees, tachetees ou piquees Pages detached / Pages detachees Showthrough / Transparence Quality of print varies / Qualite inegale de I'lmpression Includes supplementary material / Comprend du materiel supplementaire Pages wholly or partially obscured by errata slips, tissues, etc., have been refilmed to ensure the best possible image / Les pages totalement ou parliellement obscurcies par un feuillet d'errata, une pelure, etc., ont ete filmees a nouveau de fagon a obtenir la meilleure image possible. Opposing pages v.'ith varying colouration or discolourations are filmed twice to ensure the best possible image / Les pages s'opposant ayant des colorations variables ou des decolorations sont filmees deux fois sfin d'obtemr la meilleure image possible. □ D D D D This item is filmed ^' ttie reduction ratio checked below / Ce document esi 'iln.- qu taux de reductiin indique ci-dessous. lOx 14x 18x 22x 26x 30x 12x 16x 20x 24x 28x 32x iiU The copy filmed hero has bsin reproduced thanks to the generosity of Ndtioridl Library of Canada Lexempiaire film6 fut reproduit grace i la g6n6rosit6 de Bibliotheque nationale du Canada The images appearing here are the best quality possible considering the condition and legibilirv of the original copy and in keeping with the filming contract specifications. Original copies in printed paper covers are filmed beginning with the front cover and ending on the last page with a printed or illustrated impres- sion, or the back cover whan appropriate. All other original copies are filmed b Tinning on the first page with a printed or ill ri ■" impres- sion, and ending on the last page wi'h a printed or illustrated impression. The last recorded frame on each microfiche shall contain the symbol — ^ (meaning "CON- TINUED"), or the symbol V (meaning "END"). whichever applies. Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at different reduction ratios. Those too large to be entirely included in one exposure are filmed beginning m the upper left hand corner, left to right and top to bottom, as many frames as required. The following diagrams illustrate the method: Les images suivantes ont 6t6 reproduites avec le plus grand soin. compte tenu de la condition et de la nenet6 de lexempiaire film6. et en conformit* avec les conditions du contrat de filmaga. Los axempiaires originaux dont la couverture en papier est imprim*e sont fiim^s en commencant par le premier plat et en terminant soit par la dernidre page qui comporte une empremte d'impression ou d'illustration. soit par le second plat, solon le cas Tous les autres exemplaires originaux sont film*s en commenpant par ia premi*re page qui comporte une empremte a'impression ou d'illustration et en terminant par la derniAre page qui comporte une telle empreinte. Un dea symboles suivants appara?tra sur la derniAre imago de chaque microfiche, selon ie cas: le symbole — ♦- signifie "A SUIVRE ". le symbole V sigmfie "FIN '. Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc.. peuvent etre filmis A des taux do r6duction diff^rents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour etre reproduit en un soul clich6. il est fllm6 d partir de I'anglo sup^rieur gauche, de gauche ^ droite. et de haut en bas, en pronant le nombre dimages n^cossaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la m^thode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 MICROCOPY RESOLUTION TEST CHART ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No 2 .0 l.i 1.25 ■50 '"■■S 1.4 [1 2.5 2.2 1^ ^-^ 1.8 1.6 A APPLIED irvMGE '555 test Mo'H Street -'ochester. Ne« York U609 USA "6) 482 - 0300 - Phone 716) 288 - 5989 - Fax CROWNED AT ELIM CROWNED A T E L I M BY STELLA EUGENIE ASLING ■^^^t'^^ 1903 SMITH & WILKINS 20/ West Twenty-third Street New York M 0./..vn*.-h(. /f'"'' By Sti:i.i-^ I- Asi.iN"' I'KlNTi.i' i.v Till'. KiAMUii I'k: li Kt^nleSuccL. New \ v-rU In nunuiry ol the latf Coi.. Sir Ca>imiw Stwisi.ms < -/dUvki. K. C. M. (".. .'//'/ iiiln-r rAIKKII-- IN I'XII.K ir//o, thnni:h rn,n;>r//n/ !,v n.hcrsr rircnmst.-nucs to Irnvv the l;,wl ,,f t /:,-,,- hirlh. vet hrnui^rht tu tlic voun- h,nf>tiun the s.-irrw hi^h inntives .uiu Christum ehiv,-i!r\ uhieh sn:ivclies, u'hieh :ih>ne ni.ikes life imniortnl -to these this litth- hook is yrntetully ,/e,Iicnte(f f>v the Author. r CROJVNED AT ELIM. CHAPTER I. RIVFRSIDH, I shall still call it. though now in the calm dignitx- of its old age the inhabitants have called it by a name signitying peace. Though it is now but a sleepy village yet the mem- ory of its former greatness still linj^ers about it, lending an air of romance to tlie untciinnled l)uild- ings. mossgrown bridges, and dilapidated mills, as illusive, yet interesting, as tlie subtle jjcrfume which greets us on opening a long-closed ])ackage of faded roses. The very people seem to partake of the fpial- ities of the town, .\fter vou have soionriicd amon-^ them for a little, you have a susjjicion that the hand of time has been turned back from the o])ening years of the twentieth century to the early fifties of the nineteenth. The throbbing, pulsating li!e of the busy age seems never to disturb their placid ways. When they s])eak it is with a dignified yet courteous re- serve, which seems to imply that they have a history worth telling, did they but choose to tell it. Rut they come of canny stock, those Riverside ])eo))le, and do not take kindly to a stranuer. Thev will i 2 CROWNED AT ELIM. admit, however, that those were prosperous days when people brought their grain from East and West, and from up about the hikes, to be giound at the great stone mill on the river; and will still si)eak bitterly of the railway eompany whieh took that trade away, and formed a town a few miles distant. And if you are remarkably elever at extraeting in- formation, they may tell you that the town owes its inception to the enterprising capacity of a single mind; that about 1S30 a rich landowner (whom, for tiie sake of convenience, we shall call Robert Murray) when riding about in the dense Canadian forests", came upon a pictures(iue, wildly-rushing river. The many waterfalls attracted his attention, and being a shrewd business man he immediately conceived the idea of establishing a town in its vicinity. Obtaining a grant of land he at once set to work to erect mills and factories at the waterfalls; houses for his men were built in due course ; then followed stores for supplies, a blacksmith shop, post- office, church and school. As trade increased, hotels, or more properly inns, were required, and thus River- side became a cc mplete little town. As stcme was lyir. ,' about in immense quantities, it was used for all building purposes. And the people who came, whether bv design or accident it is impossil)le to say, came from the land of the heather This, then, is the reason that the little town had impressed us with an air of Scottish simplicity and substantiality on (uir arrival. Atid now having obtained so much information, nothing more can we get from Riverside residents, thousili we trv witli many wiles. So we saunter CROWNED AT HLIM. 3 along the little street, past the well kept hedges, past the stone walls which enclose smooth green lawns, on over the bridge where the water rushes down into the chasm at our fe*"t, and still on, follow- ing the bending river till we reach the second bridge, and herein sight of all things which TremaZamoyski loved, and which are still haunted by her memory, we pause reverently, reluctant to lift our unskillful pen to record the history of those who now for years have lain silent in the dust. Here is the bridge Trema crossed manj' times; there the mill, now silent forever; and just at our feet the path along which she tripped that June morning with her new- found friend. And so we sit and dream till the old days come back, and the bones of the valley stir and come together, and stand up clothed with life, ready to take their place on the little stage whei they played their part so long ago. One of the first settlers of Riverside was Donald Bell. In a short time he had grown to be one of the principal men of the place. He was a general mer- chant—dealer in groceries, dry goods, boots and sho'' drugs and hardware. He was also postmas- ter. As might be imagined, Donald, having monop- olized so many departments of trade, was kept very busy. It was noon hour of a warm spring day, and as there was a lull in business, Donald stretched himself u|)on the counter for a little rest. The hum of the mill, the traffic oi the street, the falling of the water, all came soothingly to him from a distance; the bees hummed in the warm sunshine, and Donald slept. He was rudely awakened from his mid-day CRcWXnn AT ELIM. iifip, however, l)y the entrance of Malcolm Mc- Kinnon. "'loo are ye the day, Donald? (iey ^v'eel, I've nae (loot, for it's no wark wnd niak ye ill, a lyin' foriver on yir back." " I will be thinkinti, Malcolm, that it is not thy bissness if I will be lyins^ down, or if 1 will be stand- nig up." " Ma certes, Donald, dinna be vexed. I maun hae ye seal tliis letter wi' a bittie o' wax afore ye stani}) it, an' I'll tak some yellow ochre as weel. Its hoose cleanin' time, ye ken, an' the wifie maim jjie the floor anither coat o' paint. There's a family cam frae the ceety an' ta'en ' Vinemount.' Ye'U hae lieerd al)oot it, na-.' doot, an' Ivlspeth maun hae everything sjnc an' sj>an, so they'll no be finer than she. Its the wy wi' the women folk. Afore I wud fash masd' aboot a family o' Roosians ! " "I wass hearing Willie Robertson say the lady wass no Russian at all, but an English woman." '•I'm thankfu' tae ken it," said Malcolm. "Its an awfu' thing tae hae a family o' heathenish Roos- ians come in tae oor quiet Scotch settlement But her guid man is a Roosian, an' nae doot aboot it, for I heerd Lawyer Mac.Mpin, as drew uj) the deed, say that o' a' the names ever written herccaboots, tlie Roosians was the worst. Cashmere Yamooshka, if I mind it richt. Did ye ever hear o' the like? Aweel. we maun jinst bide a wee ; maybe thev'll no dae n- much harmn." \ inemoinit had a history of its own. The house was liuilt bv Robert Murrav, and stood on an CRowxnn at i:lim. i eminence ovcrlookinj^ tlic river and eonnlrvside. It was of eoloninl architecture, and its wide verandas su]);)orte(l hy pure wliite columns, gave a stately air to the house. Ivven the most ey.])erience(l traveler, sated with the beauties of many lands, wovdd find the view from the jjortico of \'i:\etnount ])leasinix. There was the lawn with its smooth i^rass, over which the stately elms and ma|)les cast lou'j; shadows in the morniuf^ hours; the drive, eurviii,; around a clump of trees, and then descendirij: ;j:ra(l- ually to the road ])etween two rows of tall firs. Across tlie road the land sl()])ed gently to the river— a rushin.<::, tumblin,!^ stream, which forced its way between two walls of limestone rock. Beyond the river the fields were l)f)unded by a wooded hill, which as yet liad never echoed with the woodir.an's a.\e. Half a mile to the left, the spire of the kirk and the chimneys of factories told where Riverside nestled out of sitjht below the liill. Robert Murray lived but a short time to eniov his new ;U)ode. He lived to see the house completed; to see the <:;rounds laid out as he desired; to see his pet schemes a success in the villa^^e, ther he died. He left no heir save an adopted son. It was rumored that Vinemount 'nad been left to a younuer brother who had lived in a very modest way near Toronto, but who had finally sou^'^ht a home in Minnesota. If the rumor were true, the younij^er brother never ai)i)eared to claim liis inlieritance. The ])laee re- mained in the possession of the adopted son and finally i)assed into the hands of one, Blackburn Montijc^iiery, a gentleman from Ireland; who, evi- dently wearied of the world and its ways, came to ^ CROWXICD AT ELIM. seek (,uiet and rest in se(|uestert(l Riverside He remained for several years and then departed as (linetly as he had eome. and Vinemount was ngain sold. Repairs were j-oing on about the house for two months, then one day towards the last of Tune the new owners came from Toronto. CA'OUA/iZ; .4 2 ELIM. I I CHAPTER IT. T W.\S evening when the strangers arrived in Riverside, and the many lights of the little town gleaming at far intervals, seemed to inerease its sjze. I,, 11 i)eyon(l the village rose a mist}' phantom in the gloaming. The river followed its eourse between two walls of precipitous limestone, and then rushed over a rocky ledge and down a narrow gorge with a thunderous boom that could be heard beyond the outskirts of the village. Casimir Zamoyski did not respond to the eulo- gistic remarks of his wife and tlaugiiter. He feared that the morning sunshine wouh^ dispel many illu- sions ; that with the morning light the mountain would appear a mere hill, the town would diminish to one-fourth its seeming size; while the rushing torrent would prove a verj- modest little waterfall indeed. Yet, when morning came, and Casimir Zamoyski stood on the terrace in the sunshine, he was fain to confess that there was a charm in the rural land- scape which had not been discernible in the darkness of the previous night. As for Vinemount, he thought it an ideal home— such a place as he had dreamed of when harrassed and perplexed by the troubles of life. Yet it was a very different place from Stroganoff '^ CRnwxf:r) at i-Li.\f. Palace, the lu„„c he htu\ once k lown. Ah well Stro^.ano.r I'alace was only a .Irea.n belc,„^H„.. to tie past. When he left it years a^^o. "/„re4, roZ J^..n...... hacn,een his only possLion. a^'^L^^ he st.I ha.l httlc t., show Un the efforts of a lifetinfe yet when hfe shouhl end he hoj.ed to hand that sacred her.ta,.- down as he had received it./.,.^.,„ I he ^a-nt en.an-s meditations were l.roken short- ly by something tumhlinK on his shoulder-a rose plucked from the window casement. He looked up and encountere.l the smiHn- face of his wife "What a face, Casimir! And on tlic Cerv first monnn^. after onr arrival in yonr IMen. t<,o. Verilv thewhnnsnl„K.n are stran.ua-. Here have I heen c-nterta,ne.l for the past six weeks with vonr descripl ons o, th.scharmin.M.lace. and now I do believe tliat yi.ii are homesick." . "-\;o. I a.n not hon.cick. Miriam. I was just "Hh.hMn.,^ n, remin.sccnces; thou;,h. truiv. the first ^w days ,n a strant^e ph-ee alwavs are lonclv ^^oul.ln t y.,„ like to «(. for a walk -nul « .. • , • , ^ i-Ji ii waiK and see some- llnn'r u{ tlK- stUTcuidin-s of vonr new home' " "Lannot, really. I am .^oin,. to jot down a few •i-js m my journal before everythin..^ becomes hope- Icssly commonplace. I am a dreadful procrastinator and ,f do not write then, at once I Lr I shall n t -nte them at all. Where is Trema ? i:he will b pleased to accompanv \()u." "I saw her^roiu^r towards the meadow. She Wli"T^"',';^r,'-'''^'"^^'^'""^^"-I''^>-tion.-' \\cll I shouhl hke to ,1.0 after luncheon Casi- !'in-: but I can't ^ro „o\v." _^^kulamc Zamoyski stepped back from the rose- ' The uns[>utt"d (Ii-nity of ancestry. Ch-(>w.\/:n AT /././.u. 9 cMiihowcrcd wimluw and picked up licr joiirri.d It was a lar-e volume, IjouihI in Russia k-allur. and contained the principal events of her hte since her seventeenth year. The pa^as had a reniarkahlv fresh a])pearauce considerin. ; the piiR-lu-d faces, and ihc new made ;,'raves." "Do yon mean the Ivast End?" 1 asked, think- inji he meant one of the poorer sections of our ^reat eity. Hnt he answered (piieklv: " N". do; I did not me.in tiiis eitv, or tliis conniry.'and then heeiianj^^ed liie ^nlijcet, hut from the i>athos willi whieh he s]»oke, 1 know lie meant his native land, wherever it may he. London-. 7//r)e 7.0//;. JS37. Casimir Zamoyski has tau,L,dit me torovera vcar. and he uave me mv last lesson to-day. I was over- wh>inied when I fonnd that I shonld n^l see him a.^.-iin. When he said " ( M)od-l)yf," ;md I did not answer, he came over to the piano, and was deeidv pained when he found my face covered witli teais. "'Ml Miriam I" he exclaimed, "do \()u care as much as that ? Is it possihie you care tor a nameless iioliody— an adventurer your lather will sav. Tell me, is it so ? " In a voice almost inandihle I whispered, " Yes, Casimir. it is so." "And are you willing to sh.are my lot wimtever it may hring. wealth or poverty; hapi)iness or " Yes, Casimir." "Then may (lod forgive me and help mel" lie exclaimed, fervent) v. CRowx/:/) AT i:i.i\f n While tlif IwiliL^lit (IftpciKMl wc talkcl and plaiiiu'd, C.-isiinir and I As iii.v Jatlicr was a vi-ry wcrdthy iiiaii and vi-ry proud, it was doubtful if he \vould ^Mvc iiis fonsciit to luy inarryiu^r .-„, uidvuown foreigner; so wc- dccidnl tliat should he oppose us, we would i.Mke mailers into our own hands and marry without his eonsenl. When we lieard hiin come in at hist. Casimir look niy hand. sayin.L,' in a voiee hdl of enu)tion : "I'ray for nie tliat I may sueeeed, and if ' (h> not.ccuisider well l)elore you deeide to take thi.-> step. Mu-iani, I love you f)etter than mv own life, hut I would rather live without you than eause v.nir life to he unhap])y. And my afTairs are so uneertain th.tt I re.illy do not know what is hefore me. If [ thou-ht you would live to re-ret this step. I would g(J aw.'i . . as I snid before, and not see vou again." "Oh. Casimir.'" I said, "do not "talk of never meeting again. I am willing to go anywhere, suffer anythmg, so lonLr as I am with you." "Then I accept your love as a God-given trust, and my first aiui in life shall I)e to care for vou ancl make you ha])p\-," Ik- left me then, and -rosved tlie liall to the library. 1 heard him go in and close the door and much agitated. I stood by the window and tried t.i become interested in what was going on in the square. It was a futile attempt. Mv thcmghts could not be enticed from that interview in' the hbrary, and its uncertain issue. From ordinarv conversational tones the voices grew louder and "luler, untii. unable to restrain mv curiositv anv longer I firew aside the heavy portierre and looked C"A'') UA7.7; .1 7 IILIM . across till' li.-ill. My lover was st.imliti^ by the door, wliieli lit' li;il |),',rii,illy ojiciad. Ills sensitive faee was (luivenii;^ \\ ilii ImrL jui'le, an I iiis eyes were flashiii.u witli n'seiitiucnt at tlic in ^nlis h aprd uimn liiiii. My l.i'.IuT, usually so (liu;ni:'K-,l. w ,in now livid with iia--ii>n at llie rmdaeity of a poor niiisie Uaeher askir.>4 lo|- his (lau.i;Iiler's hand. i'htis ihey eon- Iroiiu- 1 eacii oihcr lor a inonu'nt in an:;vv silence, tlKu Casiniir Inrnrd and kit the honvc. The ( Mil till' d.iys <»f your iiiotlKTlcss I)a!)yIi<)od I Iiavc ^v:i[\- fK-d fvcry caprice. Imiaorcd every whim, .lud tliis is my reward, thai you sel up your wdl in opposilioM to mine. Hut rcmemlier, that not a peinv of uiv JiHMiey sliall l;o to supi)ort a la/y «'i)rei-iicr. When ' I'ovcrty coi'ies in at tlic door. Love llics out of tlic wm.h.w,' and some day you will come creci)in.i,' back to me when you fmd out what starvation means. I?al you shall not marry him. Vou arc not to see him or communicate with liim in any wav. To t!nid< Itiat I should have to give such' a command to my only ciiild, who I tliou,L,dit possessed a liLtle of the Tremainc pride! Hut some lay you will thank me for oi)ening your eyes in time, and vou wdl then look back with relief on what you have escaped." I'.VKis. Jinn- L'r,th, ls:i7. It is six days since I wrote in my Journal, and they have been days fraught with de'p importance. Tuesday night the King died, and on. Tliursday I went witli my father t(j see the young J'rinccss pVo- clanned Oueen. As we drove towards St. James Palace. I forgot the approaching crisis in my own hie m tlie strangeness of the scene. Troops of the Lilc Guards took up their stations along the line of procession, and grouijs of mounted officers in glitter- ing uniforms and waving plumes, passed quicklv along the route; while Marshalmen of the Palace m scarlet coats came and went in busy preparation. 14 CROUWrii \T F.I.IM. A-' we drew near to I'ri.-iry Court, lather snid we must \:xt out of the earria^^e, as tliere was iiot room t' r it in the (iua(lran,L;le (whieh ojteiis on Marl- hc,rou<:h dale), Ijeeause of the erowd. And so, to my ureat disgust and ineonvenience, we were obli^a'd to ali.ulit, and if it had not been for fatlier I sliould have iared badly, l)eing pushed here and there by the throng. P.ut at last we were able to get inside of the court. Here the ])ress was even greater, for it was from the l)rdeony overjookin.a^ the qua(han.ule that tl;e yoiuig sovereign was to apuear. Father helped me up on the pedestal of a statue, so tliat I was raised al)ove the heads of the ])eop]e; and presenllv, from tiiis high vantage point, I Sc.v. ; e royal carriage coming slowly along the line, drawn r)y six milk- white horses, and escorted by scpiadrons of the Life Guards. I'ollowing them came the Lord Mavor, the sheriffs, the aldermen and tlie tnace-bcarers in scarlet fur-trimmed robes, cocked hats, ruffled shirts, silk knee breeches and low buckled shoes; there came, too, tlieChaplain. the Remembrancer, and the whitc- wiggedJMdges of tlu- City Courts. We watched '.his imposing sjiectacle witii breath- less interest, and then every eye in Friary Court was fixed intently on the balcony, for from the presence window was emerging a group of gorgeously ar- rayed figures. First came the Karl Marshal, fol- lowed by the Garter Kmg-of-Arnis and the Heralds and Pursuivants in tabards wrought with thcRoval coat-of-arms, and gold silk lions and flowers in be- wildering profusion ; then came the s^ate trumjjeters in tuTiics and caj.s lavishly embroidered in -jo!d. CAW Ml A/;/; .17- i:i.IM. ^g Follou-in- these, came the Rou-e I)rn-,.n, tlie iSIuc Mantle, the Maltravers. and then sud.leiilv there stood „i_ the mi.lst of all that splendor, the' voun- 1 nneess in simplest niourninLT. "We, therefore,- the Garter Kin.^^-<;f-Arms read, the Lords Spiritual and Temporal of this realm hcin-here assisted with these of His late Majestv's Privy Council, with Tiumhers of „ther principal gentlemenof.juality, with the Lord Alavor, Alder- men and Citizens of London, do now hereliv with one voice and consent of ton-ue and heart, publish and proclaim that the High and Mightv Princess AlexaiKlnna Victoria, by the Grace of God" Oueen of the ( nited Km-.lom of Great liritain andlrcland Delender of the Faith: to whom we do acknowicd<^c all iaitn and constant obedience, with all heartv and humble aaect;on.l;..eeching(;od,bv whom kino^ and queens do reign, to bless the Royal Princess Victoria with long and happy years to reign over us " As I listenerl just like me. I suppose if her head aches it "Kike, her cross, and if a dear friend goes awav it "lakes her sad. No doubt she found her first exer- cises in music difficult, just as I \V.\i:!> AT ELIM. I (lid -Ml reply, iii_\- iiiiiKJ was in a whirl. After a inomciil he eoiitimied : ■' Peihajjs yoii think I e. How dismal everything looked this m.,rnin- and how iH-i-ht this evenin-. It is all owin- to a visit from ourministeHn-angel. Prince Adam Czartorvski Casnnu- has been so ill; money all -r.ne; j.upils scat- tered. Ho was unconscious of all the trials to which I have been subjected durin- his Ion- illness till this ^lornm,i,^ when he questione.l nic about cvctn thin- Thou,t,d, I tried to keep tlun-s from him. he'see.Pc'l intuitnely to understand it all. We were talkin- when the hell ran- and who should come in 1,ut our dear Pnnce Adam. He had been at his estate in Ud.cia lor some months, and diy." ^vas all he said as iie took Casimir's wasted fm-ers in his-the Pnnce was never a demonstrative man, but Casimir's lip trembled at the tenderness of the tone. '• Uu^v have matters been ?oing with you, mvbov'" the Prince asked. " " ' '' Pretty fair, till I was taken sick." "And now I can see that vou need a Ion- rest " As he spoke, the Prince -ave a swift glance 'around our p.am httle apartment. Evidentlv he was won- denng what would become of t. two, Vor he saw as plainly as I that Casimir would be «na1,le to take t'l' the cares of his ,,.rofessiou for some time. I saw 20 CA''>IV'.\7;/; AT LLIM. that he had a phiii in his head, hut never suspected what it was lill he turned to nie :;;id said: ■' I eanie aiuuiul \)\ Luneluu, :■ d I saw your latlier." '• I»id vou? How was he?" I in. luired, anxiously. •'He was looking rather worn and worried, but I fancied that he niiylit be reconciled to your mar- riage if you would go to him and ask his forgive- ness." "But did he send no message?" " No, wdien I told him thcit I would see you in Paris, he merely said, 'Oh, thev are living in I'aris, are tliey? ' Nevertheless, if I were in your place I would go and ull him of your luisl)an(rs illness, and I know he would do something for you." "Oh, mon I'rince," I exclaimed, "I could never do that — never I It would kill me to crave his assist- ance. He told me that if I marncd Casiniir, I woidd come creeinng back to him s(;irie tlay, when I had found out what starvation meant." "Did he tell you that, Miriam?" "Yes, Casimir; but never mind, we shall not have to go to him. I have liands ; I can work." Prince Adam was silent for a while, ajul then he said: "They tell me Volkonski has been pardoned by the Czar, and that he has come into favor with His Majesty. I understand it was Prince Lieven who efi'ected the reconciliation. I was just thinkins what a fine thing it would be if something could be done for you. It would not tlo to cx])ect a govern- ment ])osition, but if you tnight just be allowed to go home for a while, what a fine thing it woidd be for you and Miriam. But I have thought of every 1 I CRnWXi:!) 1 •/■ r.I.IM. 21 vour av.'iilril)le ijcrson, ,-itid I kii^w el no one wIkhii w c could semi oi! Uiis mission. Any ctTorls wliicli I iuiL;lil ni.'ikc woi.Ki he worse ihan useless." "Let me j^o," I saiil. e.-iueil\ . As I made this jji-opositiou both Ca^inlir and the Prince looked at me in wonder. " Please do not object, mon Prince," I added, eoaxingly, as he was silent. " Vour Excel- lency must know that there could he no one who would have such an incentive for hrin;.;in^^ the mis- sion to a successful issue as myself. I should not return till my hushand's ])ardon was an accom- plished fact. I know I would succeed. I should not even for a moment dream of failure. Please say that you think it advisable for me to jjo." "I do thiid< it (|uite advisa1)le; 1)ut do von realize wdiat you are undertakin<.r? The len<^tli of the journey, your youth and, from the C;:ar's stand- point, the j,n-avity of your hushand's offence? " "I am ready to overcome all dilliculties if vou and Casimir will oidy say that I may go." " .\nd wdiat will become of me in your absence, little wihe!"" "Oh, I will take care of you if Miriam is reallv dctertnined to j,n)," the Prince answered. " I shall be more than delii,dited to have you come and stay with me at my chateau at Montfermiel. Indeed, I should be only too pleascfl to have you both live with me altogether. Rut a few weeks at Mont- fermiel is just the chanue y.)U need. Casimir. You may stroll throu,<.;h the ])ark to your heart's content, and hear music in the bird son<>: and in the voice ot the evening wind. You will he able to compose music in such surroundings much better than when 2- cA'Mir.v/:/) .17 i:i.iM. shut in tlifsc sii.all rooms. And now in regard to Miriam's going; wIkmi shall it he? " "Since you liavc so kindly offered to take care of Ciisiniir. mon Prince, I should like to go just as soon as he is able to be taken to Monttermiel, and the sooner he leaves this liot city the better." " Very well, we will have him comfortably settled at the chateau, and then I shall see you safely off on your journey." Hver since the Prince went away this morning, Casimir has been talking of St. Petersburg, and now, poor l)oy, he is so excited that he cannot sleej). Madame Zamoyski was suddenly brought back to Riverside by the ringing of the lincheon bell. Where had the morning gone? And, alas, the entry in her journal was still to be written. si CROW SHI) AT LLIM. 33 CHAPTER III. TKKMA, in the nicaiiliinc, had enjoyed tlie morn- ing,' very niiieh. On ^^nu):, into the meadow, she was (leh<,dited to find the ground ahnost eovered with strawl)erry vines, under whieii the ripe fruit Kh)wed tenijjtingly. In a tenee eorner she found a niueh dekipitated luneh basket ; this she lined with leaves, and was soon engaged in the pleasant task of filling it with ripe herries. Her faee glowed with pleasure beneath her broad-rimni"(l hat. It was sueh a novel ex])erieiicc to the town-bred maiden to revel in ail tliat bounty whieh Nature had seattered about so lavishly. No prospector coming suddenly on a"fmd,"could have more i)nrc joy in his rich discovery than she in all that wealth of strawberries. lUit, like the prosi)eetor, she was ever on the alert for fresh scenes of fruitfulness. Looking through a fence she espied some especially large berries in the next field, which she 'lo sooner noticed than she scrambled over th^- fence and proceeded to fill her basket high with the tempting fruit. Xot one more berry would her basket hold, and she was just about to retrace her steps when she became suddenly aware uiat she was not alone in the meadow. She had been so engrossed in her task that she did not see a geniltman approaching till he stood beside her. Ill 24 Ct^•"]y.^■!:l) \r i:i_jyf "All, with wl„,ni h.uv I the- pk'Msiuc .Wsliariiur mv strawhm-ic-s:^ - ,-, pk-a.ant voice a.kc-,1 T.vuri on lookin- up. fonnl a pair „f vctv lucn -ravc-vc-s t.xc-1 up<„: I,cr. S!,. ncv.-r was so tlmron^^hlv star- 1- n, her I)(c. I„ the hr.t plaee she was alannc.l to hmI that she ha, I heen takin;.^ ,r„it which did not '"-■l"";: to her. Then she never re-ncnlurc 1 having, seen sneli a stran-e lookin- -entleinan He was a •".xture ot heanly and n-^liness. A Hne noble head an«l a l.ody hadlv delornied. though he was tall not w.thstandn,^Mn-,dehMmiiy; a pair of nio.t heautiful Ki-ay eyes ,n a taee nineh marred l.v sears, k wonld seem that .Nature had intended him to l,e almost pericet en,,n.L,di for a Creek -od, hut the I'ates !,ad decreed ..therwi^e. In oue n,on,ent Trcma noticed the curve.l hack, the scarred check, the features of sneh perfect outline tliat they nd^ht have heen the model f..r the deathless marl.le of a Phidias or Angelo; and the eyes-hut when she looked into those eyes she decided that he w.asn't .Ireadlul at ail "1 h^'A .vom- pardon, sir," she answere.l. her native di-nity overcoming her confusion. "I was not aware that tlrs mearhuv was vonr propertv My name is Trcma Z.MH>yski. I an," a daughter of tasnn.r /amoyski, who has l,ouL:ht Vincn ount I iH.pe von will pardon my intrusion, and, indee' hohlin^: them towards him tnnidly. " fliere are lots over the fence, onlv thev are not so larl tlie prettiest sjkHs hereahouts." •Hraeside?"' she said, pcrplexedlv, tlie Seoteh word faliint; ijuaintly from her lips. "Ves; tile hrae, you kno\v-iln. hJH, the clitT Come. I'll siiowyou a s,,ot from whicli von will .^ct a (me view of the rocks." ""!>. thank you! Hut my I.enies will melt in the st-i. Au.l my hands-just h,ok at them.'- holdinir lip her liitle hands uitl, iluirpink lin-ers. "I'll I'Mt your basket uihkr tlielni.li here ami vou can hathc your fin.i^ers in thv river, nke the naiads used lo ,],, ]„ dassie storv." \Vl.vn tlR.y earn,, t., Hk- rivJ-r hank he IkImcI her to descend, tsru^^.d sides, and with mueh lau,lnn^ she bathed Ikt herry-stained .niters, stan.lin^/ on a lu.-c hou der. where the water ran clear, to do so A tcrwards slu- wi,,ed them on hi. handkerchief wliieh he olili-in-ly loaned her. They proeeeded alon;, the narrow path between thcehiland the nver. when, pre.sentlv. thev eau.e to a spot which caused Trema to stop in her pleasant talk and look upward with wonderin^^ eves. .\s thev iKul ^^one along she had been listening" to her new fnend s interesting conversation, at the same time gathering tlowers which grew in theereviees of the rock ; again, examining some piece of petrifie.l moss or other curiosity which her new neighbor seemed o„ healer to find for her. so she did not m.tiee that ihe walls of limestone were getting higher and more 36 CR'>\V\i:i) AT El.lM. I)ririi)it«)us till i1r-\ (.■.um- lo ;t l.nid in I ' i- livc-r. and tlicii she lookfd up. "Oh. look!" she rxclaitiKMl. " Sc-t- that rock across tlic riwr? Ii is a writable caslic-. Sfc- tlu- Imllrcss, and liast ioii, and old castle kcrpl Isn't it grand? And tlurc is a window, and it is a roal window, too!"' she added, excitedly. "lean see away into it. Isn't the rock solid all throu-h :■' " "No." the gcntleni;in answered. ' Tliat is the entrance to ([uite a larj^'e cave. There is a hidilen well within, wiiicli, however, no one in tluse davs has been able to find." " Then how do ]ieo])ie know a well is there? " "It is a iradiiion handed down l)y the Indians, and seems to iia\e some trnlh in it. Whether true or !iot, the story is a very pathetic one. Come, we had better retrace onr steps, .and I wdl tell vou tlie story if yon would like to hear it." "Oil, pk'Pvc 1) me I sliould like it all tliin;^s." "Well, it is said that years a;,'o when the coim- try was all a wilderness, when the red man was monarch of these forests, t' .at a party of Huropeans were lindin-- their w.iy from O^densbnrL,^ to the Oliio \ alley. In the p.irty w.as a yoimi,' ^irl about fifteen years old, dau.^diter of the owner of the caravans. She must have been very beautiful, for the Indians afterward n.n.ied her Fallinn^ Star. She had with her a cith.ara on which she pl.aycd in the warm evcn- in;.;s when the caravans stopped iny \\\v ni'.;ht. Tlie sweet music antl her wonderful be.-iutv .attr.acted the attention of Bi^r H^.ar, ;i chief of one of the Mohawk Nation, who had been down on some warfarin--- ( A'" i;-.v/. /' .\ r i: i.iM. all txiK.lili..ii t,, the i'alls, ainl !ic- (IiHruiiiii-il toc.-irrv licr hack to his tountrv. "Ik- aLV(.nIiii-Iy watch.,! iiis <.i.i).M-tuiiit v, and wlicii "lu- cvcinn- slu- waii.li:xd a sIiMpt -lislancc In. Ill the caravans, he seized hrr. Makin- a si^n thai he uonld kill her if she cried out, he lil'ied lur in his arms aiir! hurried to join his followers. "AuK.n- tiiem was a voun- Indian named Lo„^r How. whose heart wa^ toueiu-d at the dre/idful fate which had overtaken the whie maiden, and he deter- mined to rescue her and return lier to her people. This was, however, n(,t easily accomplished, as the old chief kei.t coiist.-int ;,Mi.ird over her. " They crossed the river some distance above the Falls, and then proceeded westw.ird sever.d davs" journey till ihey reached this river, which thev 17)1- lowe.lunlii they came to a place above Riverside- the chiefs home. In ,all that distance [...n- 15, ,w hiulw. opporlunitvof rescuin- the voun- -n-j I,„t he hoped wiien they reached their .iestination that the chat would be less watchful. .Vnd so it i)r()ved lor .m their arriv.d he j.ut Fallimr Star into the youn- Indi.-in-s char-e. with a threat that he was to look shar])ly after her. "The moment of rescue ha.l come. Lon- P.ow only wa.ted till all was still about the tepees, then he motioned Fallin- Star to follow him. She obeyed willm-Iy.for she understood that he meant to"be friend her. They slipped quietlv down to the river where a canoe was in readiness. Softlv he pushed it down the stream till they came to a r-'int below the cave; ^t-ntly he lifted her from th. c.inoe, climbed with her up that steep ascent, drew aside the twigs '.'S C"A''>U'.\7;/' AT Kl.IM. an. 1 hows which concealed the entrance to the cave, and placed her within. Roturninir to the canoe he brouj^ht some food and her beloved cithara. which shesllll had. A,,ain the canoe w.is ])addled softly lip llie stream, and slie was alone with the stars, the silence and the night. " .\,Lrain the stars came out, and again there was silence aromid the tepees. Long Bow stopped his canoe bene itli the cave entrance and gave a low ])eculiar crdl. It \ -as answered by a few strains of soft weird nuisie. and the young Indian ascended with another supply of food. He explained that Great Rear was angry at her disappearance; he dare not start on the journey yet. lest the chief overtake them. He would try and make the chief believe that some wild animal had carried her off. S(- every night the canoe glided down the stream, and strange sweet airs floated out over the water. Then one evening Long How brongliL the glad news '/nat tiie chief iiad gone on a 'uniting expedition, and they would be able to start that ev<'ning. But when he was climb- ing to tlie cave for the last time, an arrow whizzed for a moment tlirongli tlu' air a>id lodged in the Itack of the youn.:' lirave, and with a groan he fell back- wards into the .vater. " Palling Star, watching at the cave entrance, saw the arrow and, on the op])osite side. Cireat I'e.ar still holilinLT the bow. and with a sere.'ini '-he ttirned and iled into the cave. Presently she heard footstei)s behind her; smothering a cry she increased her speed, running on aiii! on, till su:ldeidy there was a splash, a gtirgling cry, and silence. When the ])nrstiers came up .a moment later, the heautifid i'ace of Falling Star CRowxnn \T i:i.iM. 2;) appeared for an instant on llie Muface of the water, and then sank out of si^ylit forever. "And tlie Indians say that on summer nij^jhts a eanoe has been seen to gHde (h)\vn the river guided liy no visil)le hand, and that strange weird musie ll(jats from the eave out over the water, niakin<>' mournful sounds among the liuge old roeks, hke far eehoes from the spiritdand." There was a suspieion of te.-irs in Trenia's eyes wiicn tlie legend ^vas finished. " What a sad story," she said, looking baek to cateh a lasl glimpse of the legendary si)ot; hut the rcjek was out of sight, they had turned the l)end in the river. They now eame to a flight of natural steps f.rmed in the limestone, which they ascended. When tliey reaehed the top, he said : " Xow you can see the whole extent of Riverside. It is not as large as St. IVtershurg, nor yet as Toronto. Still, I think you will find many sincere friends here, for they are a true jteople. Over yonder is our little kirk. I hope to see ycni there to-morrow." "Thank you, I shall be pleased to attend the service. Then you go to the kirk ? " " Yes." he answered, smiling, " I go to the kirk." In a few moments they had again reaehed the meadow, where Trema found her berries uidiarmed, and thanking her new neighbor for the {)]easure he iiad given her, she ran ({uicl^ly along the garden ])ath to the house. She -tojjped a. moment in the kitchen to give Hannah her berries; then, when hanging up her hat in the hr 11, she glanced into the mirror and was amazed f > see a large ber.-y-staiu on her face, J 30 CA'" WM.I) A 1 lil.lM . left tlicre wIk'ii she li.'id liruslicd liuck Ikt hair with licr juice-covered fin<^ers, " Trema Zanioyski I " she exclaimed, "what a fright \-ou are! And then you do not even know the name of your interesting neighbor. IIow stu])id ! " But strangely enough she never asked her father for the information. CROWNED AT ELIM. 31 CHAPTER IV. THE Sa1)hath which folhjwed was a mcmorahlo one for Trema. Indeed, it might be said that it was for her parents also. CasiniirZamovski had at last found a place where he might lav down the burdens of life. He was very well pleased with Vinemount and he liked, too, the little town so close at hand. A sense of tranquility seemed to pervade the place, and he thought that he could ask nothing better than that he might live and die in that rural S]H)t. They went to the kirk by the river path, because Trema elected to go that way. She was ca])tivated by the weird grandeur of those frowning old rocks. She could scarcely divest her mind of the idea that they had all been planned and .uly drawn up bv an architect; that the forests of wide-spreading l.«'>eches and maples had been planted by a landscape artist; that the river had its source somewhere m a huge reservoir and came rushing along between the rocks at the will of some autocrat. This idea came from tlie artificial nature of St. Petersl)iirg, where Trema had si)ent her early years. There sh.' had driven .-ibout a good deal with her grandmother, who had taken pains to instruct her in all they saw. Thus she came to know that Peter the Great had founded I.. I \\ \ .' 32 CKov.'xr.n AT ni.iM. the city on a (les< l)arrcn marsh; thai tlic canals, lakes, groves ai- . meadows which tdlh.wcd eacli other in dreamy succession were rdl artilici;il. So that natural scenery imaided l)y the work of man was a source of continual wonder to her. M idanie Zamoyski was not so interested. She frowned when her dress — a heautit'ul s':il< — brushed aj^ainst a damp moss-covered rock. She was dis- gusted when she fotuid her fme shoes were being soiletlby the damp earth, and iniormed Trema that it she likei] niuddy rna-Is and dirly rocks she might go that way alone, l)ut for herself she j)refi-rred go- ing by tlie high-road. Trema \ \,s sorry and apolo- getic ; her father siid nothing, being engrossed in the skeleton of a fish which he had fouiid. Tiiev reached the kirk, however, witliont mishaj). It was the only cluirch in the little town, and prob.ably tliat was the reason why it was such a fme building. Be that ar it may, it was noted far and wide for the beauty of its .-irchitectiire and the elegance of its interior adornments. When inside, Trema cast a furtive glance around for Iier new acfpiaintance. She was (pi-te anxious to see him. or at least she was .anxious that he should see her witli her face cleansed of lierrx-stains. But, alas, he was nowhere to be seen. She dared not look again, for tliat glimpse had shown her that her ]iarents and herself were the cynosure of all eyes. It was not often arrivals came t(j Riverside of the prominence of the Zamoyskis, and their "heathenish name" had attracted consideralile attention. River- side had not (piite made up its mind whether to exi^ect these foreigners to appear in sheepskin or J^ ck()]vxi:n AT i:i.iM. 33 deerskin clothing. I.na-ine its s,.ri)rise. therefore, when Casimir Zamoyski acconii)anied l>v his wife and daughter, walked down the aisle of the kirk clad ni the most elegant costumes that the citv could produce. It is safe to sav that CasimiV Zamoyski never before in all his life attracted so much attention. Not when he bore his part so noblv at Warsaw; not when he fou.ght at Modlin by the side of his dear Prince; not even when he stood with his aristocratic mother in the presence of the Czar, had he been the target for so manv curious eyes. Trema was vjuite overshadowed bv the majesty of her father and the statelv digirtv of her mother. She opened a I'salter, and tried toconcen- trate her attention on the Psalms. She was grow- ing impatient for the service to begin, whcMi the vestry door oi)ened and there he was- her new neighbor-in black gown and white bands. How well he looked up there in the i)uli)it ! His dcfc^rmity was no longer conspicuous, and there was abou't him an indescribable air of majestv, greatness and strength, combined with a child-like svmpathv. that drew all sorrowing hearts to him for comfort and helj). Trema could not tell wherein the difference l.iy between her acquaintance of vesterdav and this minister in the pulpit, but she felt dominated by a presence majestic, impressive and powerful, and the state of her mind was very humble indeed. Yester- day she had taken his berries; like a cliild she had gone with him for a walk with a ))erry-stained face. To-day his very ^ rcsence overpowered her In his robes of sacred office he seemed as unapproachable I < iii If 4 3-t CU(i]V.\i:ii AT lll.lM. a> llic statue ot'St. I'ctcr ,Lriianlin_; Liic catraiKX' to tlu' liol;, i>l' linlic'S ill that lar-DtV elaircli iii St. I'ctLTS- burg. This, then, was tiic Kcv. Davi.l McGhislian, of whom she 'lad la-arrl her father s])fak and uJiom RivcTsitlc adored. The sileiiee whieh i'lilhiwed t!ie (i;)eiiiiii4^ exereises was I)ri)kou hy the voiee nf the minister re.adiii;^^ his text: "I'll 1 the (hiv break and tlie shailows llec away, turn my beloved, and lie th^ai like a roe or a vouu'' liart upon tlie mountains ol I'.etiier." WiiaL a voice he had! — dee]), and (|uiet. and imi)re>sive. The very tones seemed to wrap the hearers in a mantle (>t solemnity, and to lift their hearts aw^iy from the common noisencss of the world — awtiy to a si)iriliud re;4:on of holy SabbaLh peace. Trenia never foruot that service. WiicLlier it was the theme of t!ic sermon or the simijle dl;,Miity of the wt>rshi;), or the novelty of her surrot'.'iUlint;s, which impressed licr slie was not (p;ite clear, but it proved one of the unforu'cttable services of her life. " bntil the diay break ar.d the shadows lice awav," a^Tiiii that marvellous voice sounded diwn the aisles of the kirk. As the ptojjle listened, that story of the Bride and the Land* was no Ioniser a vi-ionary p;ira1)le of a far off century ; it wa.s i\ jticlure painted there be- fore them. They saw the elect, the chosen one. cast abroad a foundling infant ; they saw His tendcrcom- ])assion as He took her to His heart and nourished all her helpless years; His sacrificial love when, with His blood. He r.'insomeil her from death, and His thoughtful care when He left her for .awhile to pre- l)are her home above. They saw how the way was long and lonely and dreary for her. They heard her C A'"ir.\7:/) AT F.I.IM. (i\V -\VL'(.l (.TV 'urn, my I)cl()vc(]," for sli l.ie c Mnl..rt of His presence with luT. Tliev nesscd a!l ihc terrors of tliat nii/ht-ti e wished wit- mie ]onrnev, the wild heasts that were readv to d evour her, the snares that were laid to entrap her. tlic teniptati that l)eset her. They watclu ,1 her as sh (MIS into the shadows of tl into tlic ver\ e went (h)wn le woods and tlie hills— ave valle\- of the shadow- juy! they saw the day break and the shad away forever, ant! the Bride- fur whom He had waited so 1 anil then, o ( )WS H ee room come to claim hci on; Tl len, when the iteojjle were cau<.,rht up in that mood of exaltation, tl e nnnister passed from tl tone of tender pathos in which he had 1 le to (Mie of stern d enunci )een speaking ition, and the ])eople saw themselves as they were, un-rateful, i)roud. idol shippers of worldly possess! wor- the Kin^ of kiiiceries. " Its a jid-ment. I'm thinkin', tae hae sich folk come aman^^\ .,1 il„. w..lt pc-riians Hut what you care? Way thn.i.uh il„ trees you see the h-ht of your honic. an' soon vour wife she hear ju,.i,de of the bells, a.i' come to t'lie door with your leetle hoy ,n hw ..nns. mrhe lau-hs an' crows hkehewas w.ld w.il, j-.y. Then in ilu- house vour arm chair is d.-awn to the f.re. the kettle sink's', an' hot cakes smoke on the tal)le. " But in I-ranee there is a (inVerenee. Some -^rand Seigneur he own the lan.l, an" the poor man pavs bi-r ifiit. Then some time the en.ps not -^row, an' the hailift of the -rand Seigneur hecomean'sav the poor H.an must pay or he will sell his goods. S.) one dav c-veryt.ng is taken from him. an' his wife she pine nn' (he. .-ur he go to the great eeety an' tink to lind woi-k ; but there is no work. " Then, by an' by, Ik- go to live (h)wn in the back alley. X„ sunshine there, no pure air; but rotten garbage all a,-oun