A more beautiful October morning than that of the next day never beamed

into the Welland valleys. The yearly dissolution of leafage was setting

in apace. The foliage of the park trees rapidly resolved itself into the

multitude of complexions which mark the subtle grades of decay,

reflecting wet lights of such innumerable hues that it was a wonder to

think their beauties only a repetition of scenes that had been exhibited

there on scores of previous Octobers, and had been allowed to pass away

without a single dirge from the imperturbable beings who walked among

them. Far in the shadows semi-opaque screens of blue haze made mysteries

of the commonest gravel-pit, dingle, or recess.

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The wooden cabin at the foot of Rings-Hill Speer had been furnished by

Swithin as a sitting and sleeping apartment, some little while before

this time; for he had found it highly convenient, during night

observations at the top of the column, to remain on the spot all night,

not to disturb his grandmother by passing in and out of the house, and to

save himself the labour of incessantly crossing the field.

He would much have liked to tell her the secret, and, had it been his own

to tell, would probably have done so; but sharing it with an objector who

knew not his grandmother's affection so well as he did himself, there was

no alternative to holding his tongue. The more effectually to guard it

he decided to sleep at the cabin during the two or three nights previous

to his departure, leaving word at the homestead that in a day or two he

was going on an excursion.

It was very necessary to start early. Long before the great eye of the

sun was lifted high enough to glance into the Welland valley, St.

Cleeve arose from his bed in the cabin and prepared to depart, cooking his

breakfast upon a little stove in the corner. The young rabbits, littered

during the foregoing summer, watched his preparations through the open

door from the grey dawn without, as he bustled, half dressed, in and out

under the boughs, and among the blackberries and brambles that grew

around.

It was a strange place for a bridegroom to perform his toilet in, but,

considering the unconventional nature of the marriage, a not

inappropriate one. What events had been enacted in that earthen camp

since it was first thrown up, nobody could say; but the primitive

simplicity of the young man's preparations accorded well with the

prehistoric spot on which they were made. Embedded under his feet were

possibly even now rude trinkets that had been worn at bridal ceremonies

of the early inhabitants. Little signified those ceremonies to-day, or

the happiness or otherwise of the contracting parties. That his own

rite, nevertheless, signified much, was the inconsequent reasoning of

Swithin, as it is of many another bridegroom besides; and he, like the

rest, went on with his preparations in that mood which sees in his stale

repetition the wondrous possibilities of an untried move.




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