The Fourth Watch
Au
of the Frenelle homeste
Parson John, as he kissed his daughter good
ll turn the tables upon me. He knows so much about the wo
echoing and re-echoing from the neighbouring hills and forest. Everything spoke of peace, and in Parson John's
The Frenelle homestead had belonged to the family from the early Loyalist days, descending from father to son for several generations. Each had contributed something to the improvement of the land, but it remained for Peter Frenelle, Stephen's father, to bring
s of corn, standing golden in the setting sun, he paused in his walk, and remained for some time in deep thought. "John," he at length remarked, placing his hand affectionately upon his companion'
he next morning when he was summoned to his friend's bedside, to receive his final message, and to hold the hand out
Mrs. Frenelle managed the farm and exhibited remar
their heads and prophesied trouble as they saw the land producing less each year, and its acres, formerly rich with grain, covered with bushes. Parson John reasoned and remonstrated, though all in vain. Stephen always promised to do better, but in the end continued the same as before. At last the awakening came, sudden and terrible. The bank account had been overdrawn to a considerable extent, and payment was demanded. The
day of doom
ng, was sweet to look upon. She was not what one would call pretty, but it was impossible to be long in her presence without feeling the influence of her strong buoyant disposition. The angel o
entered the room. "We will be driven from our dear old home, w
re than will cover the mortgage. We will have that to start with again, and in a few years we may
, will no doubt let you remain here, and give you a fair chance to
laining that they have not enough room. She has said on several occasions that they would own this farm some day. Then, you see, Farrington is a candidate for the next Councillor election. He has large ambitions, and hopes eventually to run for the Local House. He thinks a place such as this with its fine, old-fashione
utbid him," suggested Mr. Westmo
arrived from the city last night. He wishes to buy the place merely as a speculation, hoping to turn it over to some rich people who wish to come to Canada
estate man. The former was standing a little apart from the rest, with his eyes intent upon the auctioneer, and unable to repress the eagerness which shone in his face. As the bidding advanced and drew near the three thousand dollar mark, Turpin showed signs of weakening, while his bi
ced towards the house, and, seeing Mrs. Frenelle standing in the doorway, his lips parted in a
ime ensued at this crisis was broken
usand dollars! Any advance on three thousand dollars. Go
hundred," came sudde
ve startled the men more than this
he moved a step nearer to be sur
asped. "Did the parson ad
on Westmore," shouted the auctioneer. "Any ad
gton thrust his hands deeper into his pocket
ve hundred," came
had moved from the door, and was standing near the group of men with her eyes fixed full upon the clergyman. The expression upon her face was that of a drowning person, who, when all hope has been
ong and clear from Parson John
lmost held their breath in the excitement of the moment, and Mrs. F
advance--on four thousand dollars? Going at four thousand dollars--Once--twice--t
of statesmen, and the affairs of the financial world. And yet in the sale of this farm in an obscure country place the secret springs of life, even though on a small scale, were laid bare. The pathos of a happy home on the verge of destruction, with a loving mother and an invalid child in danger of
sly at the clergyman, who was standing somewhat by himself. "One-third of the amount down,
ply. "The whole amount shall be paid at o
son kin fork out four thousand dollars at one slap. I see now why ye're allus dunnin' u
and his lips parted as if to reply. Instead, however, he
of joy were in her eyes as she lifted them to her Rector's face, and
ought of you buying the place! I cannot understand i
y," and as Mr. Westmore turned his face towards the window a tear