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Show Richard's Bravery Won Lacy The Weekly Short Story By LEETE STONE. IN THE days of good Queen Anne there lived a lovely peasant maid In the village of Lonrenth which "lies on the emerald bosom of Cornwall, midway between those gems of traditional lore, Looe and I'oiperro. Her name was Lacy and there was not a single swain in all the community that would not willingly have laid down bis life for her except one; the one who loved her, perhaps, most of all His name was Richard. Men smiled with a contemptuous curl of the lips when he passed by. He wore no sword;. he was gentle; gen-tle; a lover of peace; a reader of books. It was so he came to be called a seeker after soft living in a day and age when the creed of men was everlasting strife and bloodshed. And Lacy loved Richard; loved him for his sensitiveness ; loved him. for the romance that lived within him, manifesting Itself in glowing words and tender, passionate pas-sionate little verses which he would bring her often on bended knee. But Lacy, loving Richard, would not assure him of It Not until he proved himself the superior of all her bold and- swashbucklng suitors in that mental province known as bravery. It must be remembered that Lacy lived In a time when to woo and capture a woman's love was a matter mat-ter of mettle rather than mind. One night Richard and Lacy stro!ledln the velvet dusk on wide Lanreath moor, faint stars above them presaging midnight brilliance. "It is said that Greatover rode the moor last night, Richard," Lacy said, a sudden decision forming within her mind. ' A-ah," Richard shivered ever so slightly. "Let us return before it Is fully dark. Perchance be will be abroad again tonight." Richard I Richard I" Lacy drew eloser to him, half-turned, and clasped her hands over one of bis lean, slim shoulders. "We cannot go on like this. I will tell you now that I love you in all ways ; but he whom I marry must be the bravest man In Lanreath. Richard. I'll marry you If you'll halt Greatover. Remember his dying words 1 That whoever had courage to stand directly di-rectly In his path with drawn sword and cry 'Haiti Begone 1' that would banish him forever from the moor." Richard's face had whitened with the progress of Lacy's words. Long silence; then his lips were pressed In a thin line: "Very well, my love; each night shall find me here. If the shadowy steeds trample me Into the moor, remember that I tried." Greatover, be It known, was an avaricious landowner who had lived In Lanreath long ago. He had wasted a fortune In useless lawsuits law-suits attempting to seize a wide stretch of the moor for personal property. From time Immemorial British moorland had been "common" "com-mon" land; free to all. So embittered embit-tered was Greatover by his failure and the loss of bis gold that he weakened and died. On his deathbed death-bed be swore solemnly that be would return o' nights and drive wildly over the moors he had longed to own in a black coach, borne by six sable, headless horses ; promising, however, that whoever among the men of Lanreath were brave enough to stand directly in his path and bid him begone, would banish his apparition forever from the moor. So the years went by and always In the moonlight Greatover, his black coach and six headless horses haunted the moor, careening wildly; wild-ly; the shade of Greatover himself, half risen from bis driving seat, I leaning forward grinning madly and lashing first the lead horses, then their followers, with a long, snakelike whip. Richard went home after Lncy's declaration; wrote a farewell sonnet son-net to her, as be verily believed his last hours were at hand; buckled on the sword he had not worn since being Instructed In Its use; mounted a white horse and rode forth at midnight to the middle mid-dle of Lanreath moor. There he stationed himself and waited In the soft blaze of moonlight. Hardly had he paused when fnr down against the dim horizon edge he discerned a swaying black blot which seemed, slowly, Indeed, to grow larger nnd larger. His eyes glued upon what he knew to be the phantom approach - of Great-over Great-over and his unearthly equipage. Fear took bold of Richard and wound itself like a tight stricture around his heart. Then of a sud den, as the sepulchral vision came closer and closer, and the staccato thud of ghostly fe became audible, audi-ble, that courage which Is of the soul rather than the muscle flooded flood-ed Richard like a wave. "For Lacy and for Lanreath I" he breathed, clenching And poising the slim rapier In his hand In. the weird light be discerned blood streaming from the severed necks of the six steeds; beard and saw Greatover's maniacal laugh I Wicked Wick-ed hoofs were reaching up to tear and trample him from his mount It seemed as If someone else shouted loudly: "Haiti Begone t" Richard was alone In the moonlight moon-light Greatover was gone, never to return. All the village folk worshiped wor-shiped him and men smiled no more, but were respectful when he approached. And Lacy told her children of the bravery of their father. (Copyright. |