THE DISINHERITED SON.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume II, Issue 81, 14 November 1874, Page 13

THE DISINHERITED SON.

A LEGEND OF ITTENBSS ABBEY. Chaiibb 11. IITTM IOKD WAITBB DE COMISTON AX THE ABBEY 0* FTTBNBgS. The evening's refection was oxer at Furness Abbey, and the bell was chiming for vespers, when a young monk who had but lately finished his noTitiate, John Broughton by name, was summoned to the Abbot's parlor. There, in company with that dignitary, he found the Prior, and the boy whom we have seen in the boat launched for the aid of the rash youth who meditated self-destruction on the Lever Sands. 'ihis boy was the youngest of the three sous of Randolf de Coni■ton, Earl of Thurston, of whose castle on the banks o£ the lake not a yestjge now remains. « A dour fierce lord was Randolf, a determined Lancastrian, who had fought under the Earl of Richmond at Bosworth, had been among those who proclaimed him Henry the Seventh on that field where the fortunes of the White Rose were quenched in blood, and had remained in high favor with that astute monarch till the time of his death. Like that of the king, to whom he had been so devoted, the Earl of Thorston was a man of harsh and severe character.

After the death of Henry the Seventh, he withdrew with his lady Mid their thfee infant sons to his Castle of Coniston. The free and joyous mood of Henry the Eighth, in the early part of his reign, little suited the austere nobleman, who would have made an admirable reiving border baron of the middle ages. The Countess of Thurston, a gentle, timid lady, would fain have remained at court, where she had been most kindly received by the gracious Katberine of Arragon. ' Buttbemerrimakes, the pageant, the joustings, and feastingsin which the young king delighted, -were denounced by the sullen, gloomy earl. From bis fiat his wife had no appeal, and very sorrowfully she accompanied him to the gloomy solitude of his castle, where she died ere her youngest son WaJter had completed his fifth year. Earl Thurston delighted only in war and the chase. The deep forest of High Furness, in those days abounded with game of every description, afforded the earl ample sport in the comparatively peaceable pursuit of the chase. The proximity of the Scottish border afforded him the still more exciting gratification of an occasional foray.

Of his sons, the two elder, both in person and disposition resembled himself. ' Had their mother lived, it is possible that her wise and loving care might have softened the turbulent temper of these boys, the second of whom, Oswald, the same wild youth whom we have seen on the Lever Sands, was perhaps even more fierce and obdurate than his brother.

With all his faults, however, Oswald de Coniston was gifted with strong natural affections.

Fiercer and prouder, but less hard and wholly selfish than Randolf, the Earl's eldest Bon, he was capable both of inspiring and feeling strong attachments.

Thus, there were various of the retainers who would have laid down their lives for him. To his younger brother, little Walter, a fragile, delicate child, he half supplied the place of the mother whom the little fellow had bo early lost. . His devotion to the child was touching. He would climb the steepest rocks, and hang midway between earth and sky to procure for little Walter a wild flower or a bird's nest. He would fish, hunt, shoot, to furnish the most delicate trout, the most delicate venison, the daintiest birds, to tempt the sickly appetite of his young brother. To harder tasks than these he sentenced himself for love ot little Walter.

In sooth, to a boy of his hardy frame and active habits, it was a very hard task to devote himself to the clerkly arts of penmanship and illuminating MSS.

But then the supreme delight of Walter was in transcribing the wonderful stories of cruel enchanters, fiery dragons, distressed ladies, and valorous knights, with which the pages of the ancient romancists teem. Still better did the child love to play on the pure, smooth, shining parchment the gorgeous tints of purple, azure, and vermilion, brighten* ing and enriching all with the burnished gold leaf. Half his pleasure was, however, destroyed if Oswald was not at his elbow to assist him in the task. Many a time had Oswald chafed at the taunts of his elder brother, when with his hawk upon his wrist c sneered at the lad who, instead of roaming by the mere or the forest, sat poring over books or dabbling with inks and pigments to please a sick child. The rough Earl would sometimes join Randolph in his scoffing speech ; but Joslyn Brathwaite, the chief huntsman, swore that his lord did not, after all, love his second sou the less for his devotion to little Walter.

He knew indeed that Oswald was as light of foot, drew as keen an arrow, and wielded as stout a sword as Randolf. On one occasion, when the child Walter was ill of an infectious fever, Oswald watched three nights and days without the door of the sick chamber, which the leech had prohibited him to enter. When the boy recovered, Randolf, who scrupulously avoided ap. preaching him during his illness, sooffingly bade Oswald assume the cap and pinners of a nurse, for that lance he must be unfit to level, or bow to draw.

Then came a great outburst of Oswald's fierce temper. He sprang at hw brother, and shook him till be swayed like an aspen in a northern gale.

Heaven knows in what the fray between the lads might have ended, for the sullen Randolf essayed to draw his dagger from the sheath. The shrieks of little Walter, however, alarmed the household ; and the Earl, who was within, having arrived in time only to receive the still invalid boy in his arms in a dead swoon, he interposed his authority between his elder sons. He took part with Oswald, and uttering a sentiment but little in accordance with his customary rough manner, he bade Randolf remember that it was characteristic of a true knight to be bold as a lion, yet gentle as a lamb.

He bade both the bays to a trial of skill with the lance and the longbow, promising a jewelled baldric to the victor. That rich prize was won by Oswald, and ever afterwards the sneering Randolf termed him his father's favorite ; but he never ventured to dispute his prowess in warlike sports again. . In a Bort of fashion Oswald was indeed a favorite of his father • but the affection of the Earl for his other sons did not incline him to swerve a jot in his design of accumulating wealth for his heir. Still matters might have had a quiet ending, and Randolf de Coniston might have succeeded bis father as Earl of Thurston, and left sons to inherit his name, and Oswald might have accepted the portion of a younger son, the lance and the sword, wherewith to hew his way to fortune, and this woeful story, as it must needs prove in the end, might never have been to be told, but for that fair and fatal source of nine-tenths of the troubles of mortal life — a woman !

There wa« one Sir Richard Egremont, a etern old knight, a friend of the Earl of Thurston from his youth, and a man after his own heart. Like the Earl, Sir Richard was a widower ; but instead of being the father of three brave boys, the knight's only child was a daughter! Much had the brutal and stupid knight grumbled at the child's sax, and so often reproached the poor Evelina that she was not a bold hearty boy, that the noor girl was quite ashamed of her unwilling fault, and passed her time in fruitless wishes that she could inherit her father's sword as well as his land.

Sir Richard died when his daughter was about fourteen years of age, and little loss had she by his death, which would indeed have been her gain had the knight been possessed of the good sense to leave her under the guardianship of some matron. That, however, he considered by no means necessary, and he nominated as her sole guardian his friend the Earl Ihurston, adding thereto a proviso that she was to wed the Lord .Randolf de Coniston when of suitable age. Should she refuse to be bartered thus, as if she were a hound or a horse, then the whole estate— a very rich one — was to lapse to Earl Randolf, with the exception of a small dowry to secure her maintenance in a convent-

If, on the other hand, the young noble should ungallantV refuse the lady, the offer .of her hand and fortune was to be made on the same terms to his brother, Lord Oswald.

Little chance was there, however, that Evelina Egremont would have to endure snch an affront. She was a fair, beautiful girl, timid and yielding to a fault ; who, had she detested Eandolf de Coniston. would never have summoned courage to dispute her fathers will and refuse to be his wife. Happily, as it at the time appeared for the poor girl, her inclinations in this respect were not at variance with her duty. Haughty and overbearing at all timei, morose and sullen as Randolf

de Coniston occasionally was, this timid, tender creature loved him. It was a singular instance of the attraction which exists between natures the most opposite. The rough and overbearing Randolf loved her in turn, but he loved her lands better than herself, and it would have been well if her gentleness and beauty had been regarded by Oswald de Coniston with that friendly indifference which was meet towards the promised bride of his brother. But for that unfortunate clause in the will of Sir Richard Egrenaont which offered the hand of his daughter to the second of the Coniston brothers in the event of it being refused by the first 1 , it is possible Oswald would have regarded her only with fraternal love. But Sir Richard's will made a supposition of Evelina becoming the bride of the younger rather than the elder brother ; and fierce, passionate Oswald suffered himself to love her with a love which, like a swollen torrent, overleaped all obstacles. How the personal resemblance between these two brothers was so strong that they were sometimes mistaken for each other, though Oswald was the handsomer of the two. Unquestionably he was the better tempered of the two. He deemed not that though Evelina seemed happier in big society than that of Eandolf, that she loved the morose youth to whom she was affianced. Neither did he doubt that the noble estates of Thurston and Coniston must descend to Eandolf, that their father, to whose decision the will of Sir Richard Egremont had left everything, would hesitate to bestow Evelina and her fortune on bis second son.

Bitterly self-deceived throughout was Oswald de Coniston. Evelina coldly rejected his suit, and avowed her attachment to his brother. Worse than that, she made Randolf acquainted with his declaration, and he, exasperated at what he called the presumption of his brother, loaded him with such contumely that the exasperated Oswald drew his sword, and was perhaps only saved from the crime of fratricide by the interference of his father. The Earl himself in separating his son* received a flesh wound in his right arm. His own fierce and domineering temper was roused. He demanded of Oswald how it was that he had dared to lift his eyes to the bride of his brother, a lady of wealth, and he a penniless younger son.. He demanded of Oswald that he should sue humbly to his brother for pardon, and on liis refusal bade the lacqueys and pages turn Mm from the castle. The unfortunate youth waited not for that indignity, hut fled forthwith ; and in his distracted mood took his way to the Lever Sands, where he near found the grave of a suicide in the rising waters.