to me, but this felt soft and cold as it touched me, and shook
so that it could hardly hold the glass. Johnnie, lad, is there any one
standing in the porch with your mother?"

"No, sir, only mother."

"Strange," he muttered, "strange; I suppose it was my fancy, I am
always fancying things;" and then he sighed and put his hand on the
boy's shoulder, for Raby Ferrers was blind.

CHAPTER II.

THE BLIND VICAR OF SANDYCLIFFE.

Over-proud of course,
Even so!--but not so stupid, blind, that I,
Whom thus the great Taskmaster of the world
Has set to meditate, mistaken work,
My dreary face against a dim blank wall,
Throughout man a natural life-time,--could pretend or wish.

BROWNING'S _Aurora Leigh_.

About five miles from Singleton, where Redmond Hall stands, is the
little village of Sandycliffe, a small primitive place set in
corn-fields, with long sloping fields of grain, alternating with
smooth green uplands and winding lanes, with the tangled hedgerows, so
well known in southern scenery.

Sandycliffe is not actually on the sea-shore, but a short walk from
the village up one of those breezy uplands would bring the
foot-passenger within view of the blue sea-line; on one side is
Singleton, with its white cliffs and row of modest, unpretending
houses, and on the other the busy port of Pierrepoint, with its bustle
and traffic, its long narrow streets, and ceaseless activity.
Sandycliffe lies snugly in its green hollow; a tiny village with one
winding street, a few whitewashed cottages grouped round a small
Norman church, with a rose-covered vicarage inhabited by the curate's
large family. The vicar lived a mile away, at the Grange, a large
red-brick house with curious gables, half covered with ivy, standing
on high ground, with a grand view of the sea and the harbor of
Pierrepoint.

It might seem strange to any one not conversant with the facts of the
case, that the small, sparsely populated village should require the
services of a curate, and especially a hardworking man like Mr.
Anderson; but a sad affliction had befallen the young vicar of
Sandycliffe; the result of some illness or accident, two or three
years after his ordination, had left him totally blind.

People who had heard him had prophesied great things of Mr.
Ferrers--he had the rare gift of eloquence; he was a born orator, as
they said--a rising light in his profession;