ould strike a rare bargain," muttered the heir, as
he casually surveyed the ancient deed, and then, folding it, placed it
in his breast pocket. "For a mere song was acquired--"

"A vast principality," added the solicitor, waving his hand toward the
fields and meadows far in the distance.

CHAPTER IX

SAMPLING THE VINTAGES

Having started the wheels of justice fairly moving, with Scroggs at
the throttle, the new land baron soon discovered that he was not in
consonance with the great commoner who said he was savage enough to
prefer the woods and wilds of Monticello to all the pleasures of
Paris. In other words, those rural delights of his forefathers, the
pleasures of a closer intimacy with nature, awoke no responsive chord
in Mauville's breast, and he began to tire before long of a
patriarchal existence and crullers and oly-koeks and playing the fine
lord in solitary grandeur.

The very extent of the deserted manor carried an overwhelming sense of
loneliness, especially at this season when nature was dying and
triumphal tints of decay were replacing the vernal freshness of the
forests, flaunting gaudy vestments that could not, however, conceal
the sadness of the transition. The days were growing shorter and the
leaden-colored vapors, driven by the whip of that taskmaster, the
wind, replaced the snow-white clouds becalmed in the tender depths of
ether. Soon would the hoar frost crystallize on grass and fence, or
the autumn rains descend, dripping mournfully from the water spouts
and bubbling over the tubs. Already the character of the dawn was
changed to an almost sullen awakening of the day, denoting a seeming
uneasiness of the hidden forces, while an angry passing of the glowing
orb replaced the Paphian sunset.

In nook and cranny, through the balustrades and woody screens of the
ancient house, penetrated the wandering currents of air. The draperies
waved mysteriously, as by a hidden hand, and, at nightfall, the floor
of satin and rosewood creaked ominously as if beneath the restless
footsteps of former inmates, moving from the somber hangings of the
windows to the pearl-inlaid harpsichord whose melody was gone, and
thence up the broad staircase, pausing naturally at the landing,
beneath which had assembled gay gatherings in the colonial days. And
such a heedless phantom group--fine gentlemen in embroidered coats,
bright breeches, silk stockings and peruke, and, peeping through
ethereal lace wristbands,