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About Dakota County herald. (Dakota City, Neb.) 1891-1965 | View Entire Issue (Sept. 8, 1921)
. &&SWS Erf- "v-i w,n ?" ,B.-kS vrT -m : DAKOTA COUNTY HERALD NO DEFENSE By GILBERT PARKER itttbor of "Y "The Seats of the Mighty 99 ((' The Right of Way ,99 Copyright by Blr Gilbert Parker '4 A lw !. STIRRING ROMANCE OF TWO CONTINENTS My dear friend: 1 will not believe thai your fate is an evil one, ihl the law will grind you between the millstones of guilt and dis honor; but if the law should call you guilty, 1 still will not be lieve. . . . I Yes, she and 1 are saying good-by to Ireland. That's why J think she might have let me see you before we went; but since it must ml be, well, then, it must not. Hut we shall meet again. In my soul 1 know thai on the hills somewhere far off, as on the first day we met, e shall meet each other once more. Where arc we going? Oh, very far! We arc going to my Uncle Bryan Bryan Llyn, in Virginia. . . . We shall know your fate only through the letters that will follow ui, lut I will not believe in your bad luck. TAslcn to me why don't you come to America also? ... 80 keep this matter in your mind, as my mother and I will soon le gone. She would not let me come to you I think 1 have never tern her so disturbed as when 1 asked her and she forbade me to write to you; but I disobey her. Well, this is a sad business. I know my mother has suffered. I know her married life was unhappy, and ihti her husband my father died many a year ago, leaving a dark trail of regret behind him; but, you see, I never knew my father. That was all long ago, and it ii a hundred times best forgotten. Our ship saih for Virginia in three days, and I must go. I will Ttetp looking back to the prison where lies, charged with an evil crime, of which he is not guilty, a young man for whom I shall carry the sfirit of good friendship. Do not believe all will not go well. The thing to do is to keep the courage of our hearts and the failh of our souls, and I hope I always shall, I believe in you, and, believing, I say good-by. I say farewell in the great hope that somehow, somewhere, we shall help each other on the way of life. Ood be with you! I am your friend, SHEILA LLYN. So wrote tlio beautiful Sheila to Dyck Calhoun in prison- the Laatiful young Irish girl with her wonderful brown hair and her btae eyes that showed tho loyal tout of her and her lovely mouth that had Cupid's bow. Read between the lines of it and see if it it not n letter to put courage und hope into a manly young fellow' heart even if ho it behind bar charged with murder. But though Dyclc't heart thrilled over the letter, the words comforted him not at all, for there was more to the killing than Sheila knew. Innocent he was, but the future looked dark to Dyck. And hit foresight was good. He refuses for Sheila's sake to re veal what would have given him freedom. He is sent to prison for eight years. He is released after four years to find his father dead and his estate gone. A letter comes from Sheila; it invites him to Virginia and sends money. Sheila does not know why Dyck cannot gs to her. Dyck enlists in the British army. There is mutiny in the Beet. Dyck is chotfen by the mutineers to command the Ariadne. In the West Indies he helps win a victory over the French fleet, is thanked by the admiral and is put under arrest as a mdtineVr. Tho swift march of events finds Dyck and Sheila in Jamaica, still sepa rated by the .mystery of the murder, with an added complication in Ik form of Lord 'Mallow, the governor, who is Dyck's old enemy and the girl's suitor. In short, this is one of Sir Gilbert Parker's good romances. There re many British knights and baronets of Canadian birth, but his title is unique because given him for literary accomplishment. Sir GSbort has written about thirty novels and is as popular in America as ia Great Britain and Canada. J: CHAPTER I. K 1 The Two Meet. "Well, good-by, Dyclc. I'll moot you t Oms sessions, or before tbnt nt tho HofttVCfl It was only the Impulsive,' cheery, waratag exclamation of n wild young Irish spirit to his friend Dyck Cnl hoBB, but It had behind It the humor and Incongruity of Irish life. The nun, Dyck Cnlhoun, lifter whom were sent the 'daring words nbout the sessions and the assizes, was n year or two older than his friend, and, as Michael Clones, his servant nnd friend, said, "the worst nnd best camp of them nil" Just up to any harmless deviltry. laflnenced by no traditions or cus toms, under control of no stern rec ords of society, Calhoun hnd caused some trouble In his time by the harm less deeds of n scapegrace, but mor ally that Is, In nil relations of life affected by the Ten Commandments . he was abovo reproach. There never was ia Ireland a cheerier, braver, liuniJsomcr fellow, nor one with such variety of t mind nnd complexity of pvassc. He- was the only child of n high place gentleman; he spent nil the inoaey that came his way, and occa sionally loaded himself with debt, which his angry father paid. Yet there acver was a gayer heart, a more ccneraus spirit, nor nn easier-tempered inaa; though, nfter nil bo was only twenty-five when the words with which tho tale opens were said to him. He was a figure of note among those who spent their time In erltl ctxlag the government and damning the Irish parliament. He even be came a friend of sonic young hiire bralacd rebels of the time; yet no " one suspected him of anything except Irresponsibility, Ills record was clean; Dublin Castle was not after tiltn. When his young friend mndo the re '' nark about the session and assizes, Calhoun was making bis way up the rocky hillside to tnku tho homeward path to his father's place, Pluymnro. He raised his head, looking up Into the sky at some larks singing above 21 In the heavens, God love you, little dears," ho oke aloud. "I wish 1 might die with your singing In my ears, but do you ' Jehow wbut makes Ireland what It Is? Jjook nt It now. Yenrs ago, Just when the cotton mills and tho linen mills Vere doing well, thei came over with their English, legislation, and mndo It fears' going. When wo begin to get earthing, over the English come and take Hie something away. What have w dene, we Irish people, tbnt we couldn't hnve n chuuee It! our own G country? Lord knows, we deserve n chnnce, for It's hard paying the du ties these days. Whnt with Prance In revolution and reaching out her hnnd to Ireland to coax her Into rebellion ; what with defeat In Amerlcn nnd drink In Scotland ; what with poverty, and the cow nnd children nnd father and mother living nil in one room, with the chickens roosting In the. rnft ers; what with pointing tho potato at the fried fish nnd gulping It down as If It was fish Itself; what with the smell nnd the dirt nnd tho poverty of Dublin nnd Derry. Limerick nnd Cork ah, well!" Ho throw his eyes up again. "Ah, well, my little lovo, sing on I You're n blessing among n lot of curses; hut never mind, It's n line world, nnd Irelnntl's tho best pnrt of It. Heaven knows It nnd on this hill, bow beautiful It 1st" He was now on tho top of a hill where he could look out toward tho bog and In toward the mellow, wav ing hills. He could drink In tho yel lowish green, with here nnd there In the dlstnnce n little house; and nbout two miles awny smoke stealing up from the midst of the plantation where PJnymoro wns l'laymore, his father's house to he his own one dny. Dyck Calhoun had n soul of char acter, originality and wayward dis tinction. He had all the Impulses nnd enthusiasms of n poet, nil the thirst for excitement of tho ndventurer, all tho latent patriotism of the truo Celt; but his life was undisciplined, and ho bad not ordered his spirits Into com partments of faith and hope. He had gifts. , They were gifts only to be homo by those who had ambitions. Now, as ho looked out upon the scene where nature was showing hor self at her best, some glimmer of n great future came to him. lie did not know which way bis feet wore des tined to travel In the business of life. It was too late to Join the navy; hut there was still time enough to bo a soldier, or to lenm to bo it lawyer. Suddenly, ns ho listened to the lark singing overhead, with his face lifted to the sky, be heard a human voice singing; and presently there ran up a little declivity to his left a girl an Irish girl of about seventeen yenrs of ge. Her bat was banging on her arm by n green ribbon. Her head was cov ered with tho most wonderful brown, waving hair. She bad a broad, low forehead. Greek In Its proportions nnd lines. Tho eyes were bluer ovci than his own, and were shaded by lashes of great length, which slightly modi- tlCHl tho Unit lines of tho face, with Its admirable chin, and mouth somewhat largo with n cupld's how. In spite of Its nrdent nnd IumIous look it wus thfl month of 0119 tvho knew her own mind nnd could sustain her own course. It was open when Dyck first saw It, because she was singing little bits of wild lyrics of tho hills, little tragedies of Celtic life Just bursts of the Celtic soul, as it were, cheerful yet sad, buoyant and pnsslonnte, eager yet melancholy. She was singing in Irish, too. They were the words of songs taught her by her mother's maid. She had been tramping over the hills for a couple of hours, virile, beau tiful and nlone. She wore a gown of dark gold, with little green ribbons here nnd there. Tho gown was short, nnd her ankles showed." In spite of the strong boots she wore they were alert, delicate nnd shapely, and all her beauty had the slender fullness of a quail. When she saw Dyck she stopped sud denly, her mouth slightly open. She gave him n sidelong glanco of wonder, Interest nnd speculation. Then sho threw her bend slightly back, und all the curls gnthcred In a bunch nnd shook like bronze flowers. It wns a head of grace and power, of charm nnd allurement of danger. Dyck wns lost In admiration. He looked nt her ns one might look nt n beautiful thing In n dream. He did not speak ; he only smiled as he gazed Into her eyes. She wns tho first to speak. "Well, who are you?" she asked with n slightly southern accent in her voice, dellcntc and entrancing. Her head gave a little modest toss, her fins white teeth caught her lower Up with a little quirk of humor; for she could see tbnt be was a gcntle mnn, and that she was safe from any thing that might trouble her. He replied to her question with the words : "My name? Why, It's Dyck Cal houn, that's all." Her eyes brightened. "Isn't that enough?" she nsked gently. . She knew of his family. She was only visiting n the district with her mother, but she bad lately heard of old Miles Calhoun and his wnywnrd boy, Dyck; and here wns Dyck, with a humor In his eyes and a touch of melancholy at his lips. Somehow her heart went out to him. Presently ho snld to her: "And what's your nnme?" "I'm only Sheila Llyn, the daughter of my mother, a widow, visiting nt Loylnnd towers. Yes, I'm only Shei ln I" She laughed. "Well, Just be 'only Shclln.f " ho an swered ndmlrlngly, and he hold out a hand to her. "I wouldn't hnve you be nttythlng else, though it's none of my business." For one swift Instant she hesitated ; then she laid her hand in his. "There's no reason why we should not," she s'aid. "Your father's re spectable." She looked at him ngnln with a sidelong glance, nnd with it whimsical, reserved smile at heV lips. "Yes, he's respectable, I agree, but lie's dull," answered Dyck. "For nn Irlshmnn, he's dull aud he's a tyrant, too. I suppose I deserve that, for I'm a handful." ' "I think you are, nnd a big handful, toot" "Which way are you going?" ho nsked presently. "And you?" "Oh, I'm bound for home." He pointed across the valley. "Do you see that smoke coming up from the plan tation over there?" "Yes, 1 know," she answered. "1 know. That's l'laymore, your father's place. Loylnnd lower la between here and there. Which way were you going there?" "Hound to the left," ho said, puzzled, but agreeable. "Then we must say good-by, bemuse 1 go to tho right. That's my nearest way." "Well, If that's your nearest wny, I'm going with you," he said, "because well, because because " "If you won't talk very much!" she rejoined with a little uir of Instinctive coquetry. "I don't want to talk. I'd like to lis ten. Shull we start?" Sheila's father's nnme was Errls Boyne, und he had been debauched, drunken, and faithless; so at a time of unendurable hurt his wife had freed herself. Then, under tho egls of her uutldeu name, 'she had brought up her daughter without any knowledge of her father; had made her believe ho was dead; had hidden her tragedy with 11 skillful hand. Only now, when Sheila was released from 11 governess, had she moved out of the little wild area of the County Limerick where she lived; only now had she come to visit an uncle whoso hospitality she had for so many yenrs denied herself. Sheila was two years old when her father disappeared, and fifteen years had gone since then. Down the long rood the two young yeople traveled, gossiping much, both if them touched by something .sad aud n.ttrhtUH, neither knowing why; both Os tlu'iu happy, too, for somehow they tl come neurer together than years of ordinary llfo might have made pos Hihle. Thoy broke Into talk of their ovru coivatryatrie, of the war With Frar.ce, of the growing rebellious spirit In Ireland, of riots In Dublin town, of trouble nt Limerick, Cork and Sllgo. At the gate of the mansion where Sheiln wns visiting, Dyck put Into her hands the wild flowers he had picked as they passed, and said: "Well, It's been a great day. I've never had a greater. Let's meet again, nnd soon I I'm nlmost every day upon the hill with my gun, and lt'd be worth a lot to see you soon very soon." "Oh, you'll be forgetting me by to morrow," the girl said with a little wlstfulness at her Jlps, for she had a feeling they would not meet on tho morrow. Suddenly she picked from the bunch of wild flowers he hail given her a little sprig of heather. "Well, if we don't meet wear that," she snld, and, laughing over her shoul der, turned and ran Into the grounds of Loyland towers. CHAPTER II. The Coming of a Messenger. When Dyck entered the library nt Playmore, the first words he heard were these: "nowe has licked the French at Brest. He's smashed the French fleet and dealt a sharp blow to the revolu tion. Hurrah I" The words were used by Miles Cal houn, Dyck's father, as a greeting to him on his return from the day's sport. Now, If there was a man In Ireland who had a narrow view and kept his toes pointed to the front, It was Miles Calhoun. Ills people had lived In Con nemara for hundreds of years, and he himself had only one passion In life, which wns the Protestunt passion of prejudice. Ho hnd ever been a fol lower of Burke a pnsslonate follow er, one who believed the French Revo lution was a crime against humanity, a danger to the future of civilization, n miserable orgy of unworthy millions. He hnd resisted more vigorously than most men the progress of revolu tionary sentiments In Ireland. He was aware that his son had far less rigid opinions than himself; that ho ven defended Wolfe Tone and Thomas Em met against nbuse and damnation. Tlint was why he had delight In slap ping his son In the face, whenever possible, with the hot pennant of vic tory for British power. He wns a man of irascible tempera ment nnd stern views, given to fits of exasperation, ne was small of stature, with of round face, eyes that sudden ly went red with feeling, and with none of tho handsomeness of his son, who resembled his mother's side of the family. The mother herself had been a beau tiful and remarkable woman. Dyck was, In a sense, a reproduction of her fiPr cr Down the Long Road the Two Young People Traveled. In body and mind, for n more cheerful and Impetuous person never made 11 household happier or more Imperfect than she made hers. As the elder Calhoun made bis an nouncement about the battle of Brest and the English victory, a triumphant smile lighted his flushed fnce, and un der his heavy gray brows his eyes danced with malicious Joy. "Howe's a wonder!" he snld. "He'll make thoso snvnge, mad, red republic ans hunt thoir holes. Eh, Isn't that your view, Ivy?" he asked of a naval captain who had evidently brought the news. Captain Ivy nodded. "Yes, It's a heavy blow for the French bloodsuckers. If their Ideas creep through Europe aud get hold of Englund, Ood only knows whnt the end will bo I In their view, to niter everything that exists Is the only way to put things right." At that moment the door opened, und n servant entered the ropra. In his hand he carried a letter which, with marked excitement, he brought to Mile Calhoun. "gurc. k4'4 waiting, air," he !. "And who's he?" nsked his master, turning the letter over, ns though to find out by looking nt the seal. "Oh, a man of consequence, If we're to judge by the way he's clothed." "Fit company, then?" his mnster asked, as he began to open the heavily sealed letter. "Well, I'm not saying that, for there's no company good enough for us," answered the higgledy-piggledy butler, with a quirk of the mouth; "but, as messengers go, I never seen one with more style nnd point." "Well, bring him to me," said Miles Calhoun, nnd broke the seal of the letter in his hand. "Good God!" he nddbd, after doing so, for he had just realized that the stamp of the seal was that of the attorney general of Ireland. Then he opened the letter nnd rend It. A flush swept over his face, mnk iug its red almost purple. "Eternal damnation eternal dam nation!" he declared, holding the pa per nt arm's length, inspecting it. He then hnnded It to Dyck. "Rend that, Ind. Then pnek your bog, for we start for Dublin by daylight or before." Dyck read ,tho brief document and whistled softly to himself. "Well, well, you've got to obey or ders like that, I suppose," Dyck 'said. "They want to question us as to the state of the country here." "I think we can tell them something. I wonder If they know how wide your travel Is, how many people you see; nnd If they know, how did they come to know? There's spies all over the place. How do I know but the mnn who's Just left this room isn't n spy, Isn't the enemy of all of us here?" "I'd suspect Michael Clones," re marked Dyck, "just ns soon as Mul vanoy." "Michael Clones," snld his father, and he turned to Captain Ivy, "Ml cbael Clones I'd trust as I'd trust his blessed majesty, George III. He's a rare scamp, Is Michael Clones! He's no thicker than a cardboard, but he draws the pain out of your hurt like a mustard plaster. A man of better sense and greater roguery I've never met. You must see him, Captain Ivy. He's a man of men. Is MIcbnel Clones." The door opened and the butler en tered, followed by a tall, thin Don Quixote sort of figure. "His excellency," said Mulvaney, with a look slightly malevolent, for the visitor had refused his nnme., Then he turned nnd left the room. At Mulvaney's words, nn Ironical smile crossed the face of the new comer. Then he ndvanced to Miles Calhoun. Before speaking, however, he glanced sharply at 'Capinln Ivy, threw nn Inquisitive look at Dyck, nnd said : "I seem to have hurt the feelings of your butler, sir, but that cannot he helped. I have come from the attor ney general. My nnme is Leonnrd Mallow I'm the eldest son of Lord Mallow. I've been doing business In Limerick, nnd I bring n message from the nttorney general to ask yon to at tend his ofllce at the earliest moment. I've seen strange things ns I came. I've seen lights on the hills, and drunk en rioters In the roads nnd behind hedges, nnd once n shot was fired at me; hut here I am, safe and sound, carrying out my orders. What time will you start?" he added. He took It for granted that the sum mons did not admit of rejection, nnd ho was right. The document contained these words: "Trouble Is brewing; indeed, it Is nt hnnd. Come, please, at once to Dub lin, nnd give the lord-lleutennnt nnd the government n report upon your district. We do not hear altogether well of It, but wo are aware that no one has the knowledge you possess. In the name of his majesty you arc here by nsked to present yourself nt once nt these oillces In Dublin, and be as sured that the lord-lleutennnt will give you warm welcome through me. Your own loyalty gives much satisfaction here, nnd If yon enn bring useful In formation much good' mny ensue. 1 nm, sir, "Your obedient servant, . ".TOHN M'NOWELL." "You hnve confidence In tho people's loyalty here?" nsked Mallow. "As great as In my own," answered Dyck cheerily. "Well, you ought to know what that Is. At the same time, I've heard you're n friend of one or two dark spirits In the land." "I hold no friendships that would do hurt to my country," answered Dyck sharply. Mallow smiled satirically. "As we're starting at daylight, I suppose, I think I'll go to bed, If It may be you can put me up." "Oh, Lord, yes I We can put you up. Mr. Mallow," remnrked tho old mini. "You shall have ns good a bed as you fun llnd outside the viceregal lodge a four-poster, very wide and very long. But, Mr. Mallow, you haven't announced that you've had dinner, nnd you'll not bo going to bed In this house without yoi'r food. This is a day when we celebrate the anni versary of Irish power and lift." "What's that?" asked Mnllow. 'That's the battlt of the Jlfcyis," answered his host with n little air of ostentation. "Oh, you're one of the Pcep-o'-Dny Boys, then," remnrked Mallow, "I'm not saying that," answered tho old man. "I'm not an Ulaterman, but I celebrate the coming of William to tho Boyne.. Things-were done that day that'll be remembered when Ireland is whisked away Into the kingdom of Ilenven. So you'll not go to bed tlil you've had dinner, Mr. Mallow! Din nor nt five, to bed at eight, up before daylight, and off to Dublin when 'the light breaks. That's the course 1" He turned to Captain Ivy. "I'm sorry, captain, but there's naught else to d, and you were going tomorrow nt nons. anyhow, so It won't make much differ enco to you." "It will make 'no difference what ever," replied the snllorman. "I have to go to Dublin, too, nnd fromthere to Queenstown to join my ship, nnd from Quecnstown to the const of France to do some fighting." "Please God!" remarked Miles Cat lioun. "So be It I" declared Mnllow. "Amen!" said Dyck. C" Once again Dyck looked the visitor straight In the eyes, and far back In Once Again Dyck Looked the Visitor Straight In the Eyes. ' the horizon of Mallow's life-sky there shone for an instant the light of rfn evil star. "There's the call to dinner," re marked Miles Calhoun, ns n bell .began ringing In the tower outside. "Come with me, Mr. Mallow, and I'll show you your room." - "Sheiln Sheila I" ' snld Dyck Cal houn to himself where he stood. . CHAPTER III. The Duel. The journey to Dublin wns made by the Calhouns, their two guests, and Michael Clones, without incident of note. Arrived there, Miles Cnlhoun gave himself to examination by gov ernment officials and to assisting the designs of the Fcep-o'-Day Boys; nnd Indeed he was present nt the forma tion of the first Orange lodge. His narrow nature, his petty craft and inalevolencc, were useful In a time of anxiety for the state. Yet ho had not enough ability to develop his position by the chnnces offered him. He had not a touch of genius; he had only bursts of Celtic passion, which he bad not mind enough to control. Indeed, as days, weeks and months went on, his position became less valuable to himself, and his finan cial affairs suffered from his own nnd his ngent's bad management. In his pnrticulnr district he wiui a power; In Dublin he soon showed the weaker side of his nature. He hud a bad habit of making foes where he could easily have made friends. In his personal habits he was sober, but erratic. Dyck bad not his father's abstention from the luxuries of life. He drank, he gnmed, he went where temptation was. and fell Into It. He steadily di minished his powers of resistance to self-indulgence until one day. at a tav ern, lie met a man who made a great Impression upon him, Tills mnn was brilliant, ebullient, full of humor, character and life, knowing apparently all the lower world of Dub lin, nnd moving with nn assured step, it wns Errls Boyne, the divorced hus band of Mrs. Llyn nnd the father of Sheila Llyn; but this fact was not known to Dyck. There was ulso a chance of Its not becoming known, be cause so many years hnd passed since. Errls Boyne was divorced. Dyck and Lord Mallow quar rel and settle it with swords. (TO BE CON'tiNTJED.) Van Dyck Supreme. Van Dyck bus been ratd the great est portrait painter of nil th.y, with thU fMStblA .Tcptin of TIUAi. I, f 'rfj 1 '