CHAPTER XXVI.

Te Aroha News, Volume IV, Issue 163, 31 July 1886, Page 11

CHAPTER XXVI.

JIM. It is a carious fact that, excepting th» - detectives, who may be said, as a class, to be deficient in veneration, no one in or about Willowemoc ever thought of aseociaing The Jooke, as they persisted in calling him, with the crimes that had - recently startled the community. The people considered him a reverence not unmixed with awe ; and, learning from their reading that the hermits of old passed "for very holy men, they very naturally Attributed this quality .to their own hermi* whose existence gave an additional interest and romance to their beautiful mountains. The people wondered why the hermit had not been called as a witness at John Fen field's inquest; and they were quite sure the officers of the law would compensate forthisovereightby giving himan unusually thorough examination at the trial which was soon to come off in the county town of Sterling. Heretofore the hermit had only visited "Willowemoc to sell hie honey and wax:; and, this done, he would return to the mountain? without stopping to exchange a word with the curious people, who always watched him with a never-satisfied wonder. But a time had come when they were to see more of this remarkable man ; and, finally, to have their starved curiosity appeased by seeing the veil of mystery lifted from his romantic life. After bidding Clarence Ashworth goodbye at the gate of the Manor, the hermit strode towards the hills, followed by Czar, the faithful hound. Though he never wandered a pace from the trail, he appeared to be oblivious to his acts and surroundings. It was night when he reached the glen in which was his home, the location of which was defined in the darkness by a bright 1 light. As he neared the house a voice called out : " Ib that you, my mastei ?" " It is 1, Jim : has all gone well here ?" " Yes, sir ; how is it with you ?' " The day has been dark as night. lam hungry, and troubled." " The weariness and hunger can soon be cured, and I pray that the trouble may be as easily banished." During this conversation the hermit had advanced and entered the main hut, on the wide hearth of which a great fire blazed cheerfully, for cold nights had come with the crimsoning of the leaves. To any but the student of ethnology, Jim would have passed for a full-blooded negro, so black was his skin. But his features were as regular as those of a European, and his hair, now streaked with grey, was long and straight, and must have been black and glossy as the raven's wing b< fore it had been touched by the frests of time. He lived with hia wife, who was much brighter than himself, and their half dozen big-eyed children, in a neighbouring valley, where he farmed on a small scale and kept 'bees on a very large one. Jim was known to be the only person in the hermit's confidence; and us he was a very quiet, dignified man, he came in for his share of wonder, and the oldest inhabitants recalled that he and The Jooke first appeared in Willowemoc together. Without being in the least obsequious, Jim's manner towards the hermit was that of an affectionate, respectful servant. He took the rifle and hung it on a peg near the less modern arms, and then said : " I have been awaiting you for some time, my master, and supper is ready." The hermit expressed his thanks, bathed his hands and face ; then said, a3 hs went into the other room : " Come with me, Jim. I fesl like talking to night." The black man followed him, and -would have stood behind his chair had he not motioned him to a seat at the other side of the table. Before 6atiog, the hermit ofered up a silent blessing, while Jim sat with closed -eyes and bowed head. " Jim, I can talk and eat, Listen to me." " I shall, sir." Before taking a mouthfnl himself, the hermit filled a plate with food and placed it under the table for Czar. "How long is it since we came to these hills, Jim ?" "Five and-twenty years last spring, sir," was the reply. "And since then I have never been beyond the village ?" " Never, sir.' 5 " And having left the world, Jim, I "thought that I should never enter it again, nor have I yearned to go back during all -these yeare, for more and more, as I lived, I have become convinced of its vanities." " You have been very peaceful here, sir j and I and mine have been very happy for being near you." *• If I did no' think you were, Jim, it would make me miserable, for I protested against you following me, and only consented when you assured me you would be wretched a.way from me." "I eafd but the truth," paid Jim, with an expre-pion of mingled lovo and reverence on his face. "But now, Jim," the hermifc cautioned, ** I must go back to the world— at least for a time " "And you will go far ?" <c hio, Jim, I shall be back and forth, and ever within reach. In my soldier days I was never a preserver of life. Now it is •different. A precious life is in danger, and I feel that I can do something to save it." " That in noble, my master." "It ia more than noble— it is my duty." "Ani cannot I help you ?" " Yes, Jim, by caring for my home till I ■return permanently to its peace, as I pray I •may soon be able to do." •» Whose life 'b in danger?' "The life-aye, far more than the life— ■ of the young man my guest of last night." ** Clarence Afhwoith ?" " You have named him." "And he is of the blood of the Berisfords?" •' Yes, and worthy of the best." " When do you leave, my master ?" €< In the morning. Now go to your own 1 home. " "I eh all be here before youl cave. Good •night sir." "Goodnight." Jim went out, eoftly closing the deor behind him ; and the hermit elowly finished k Ma-supper, stopping now and then to pat Czar's bead, and to replenish the plate • tinder the table. After tupper he went into the other • room, first letting the dog out. Here he sat until midnight, his eyes fixed • ou the changing figures made by the coals, • but seeing nothing.

He. carried no watch, and there was no clock about the place. ; Oat?, here,,' face to face with nature, he needed no artificial contrivance to mark the hours. The whole round of the starlit heaven was the dial-plate in which he read the flight of time, and the changes in the hills about him marked the progression of the seasons. Re lay down about midnight, and his perfect control over his thoughts was shown by the fact that he closed his eyes and went to sleep at once. An hour before da> the hermit was aroused by a soft step in his room. There being no locks on the outer doors, Jim had come noiselessly in, having walked three miles through the darkness to see the man he called his " master " before he went away. Soon after daylight the hermit left the valley, this time unaccompanied by Czar, who whined to be 'allowed to follow. Although at least sixty-five years of age, the hermit's form and movements were those of a man in the golden prime of life. Indeed, no man not a trained mountain climber could have kept him in sight that morning. ' He was on his way, first, to see Dr. Berisford, and then to go to the town of Sterling ; but, to his delight, he did not have to go to the Manor to find the gentleman he was in search of. As he neared the Hanging Bock, he espied a figure which he recognised, and he quickened his pace till it looked like a run. The doctor heard him, and turning around waited for him to come up. " Good morning, Mr Duke." " Good morning, Dr. Berisford." These were the salutations that passed between tho two men, who, as they stood there facing each other, looked so like and" unlike. _ "Ycu come in early," said the doctor, fitting down on a rock and motioning the other to a seat directly opposite. " Pressing 1 business needs early hours," replied the hermit, taking the seat and eagerly scanning the doctor's face. " That is true." said the doctor, vaguely. With the suddenness of a pistol flash the hermit leaned forward and asked : "Dr. Berisford, do you believe Clarence Ashworth guilty ?" " I—why should I judge?" said the startled doctor. "Do you think him guilty? I ask you opinion, not your reasons, though they maybe related." "My hopes are that he is not." " But your opinion." " I regret to say the evidence is against him " " Did you hear his explanation ?" "I think I understand it." " And you still believe him guilty ? ' " I did not cay that." " What then ?" " Only that the evidence is against him, and I will add that my wish ia to aid him, if in my power, to prove his innocence." "You can aid him." 11 If you show me the way, I shall not be long inactive." "And you would pursue the investigation, even if sure it would involve your dearest friend ?" "I would pursue this investigation to clear Clarence Ashworth," Baid the doctor, solemnly, "if sure thac it would involve myself."