1
/
of
1
SAP
In The High Valley
In The High Valley
Regular price
$0.99 USD
Regular price
Sale price
$0.99 USD
Shipping calculated at checkout.
Quantity
Couldn't load pickup availability
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. ALONG THE NORTH DEVON COAST 7
II. MISS OPDYKE FROM NEW YORK 40
III. THE LAST OF DEVON AND THE FIRST OF AMERICA 65
IV. IN THE HIGH VALLEY 93
V. ARRIVAL 127
VI. UNEXPECTED 149
VII. THORNS AND ROSES 174
VIII. UNCONDITIONAL SURRENDER 204
IX. THE ECHOES IN THE EAST CANYON 235
X. A DOUBLE KNOT 267
IN THE HIGH VALLEY.
CHAPTER I.
ALONG THE NORTH DEVON COAST.
IT was a morning of late May, and the sunshine, though rather watery,
after the fashion of South-of-England suns, was real sunshine still, and
glinted and glittered bravely on the dew-soaked fields about Copplestone
Grange.
This was an ancient house of red brick, dating back to the last half of
the sixteenth century, and still bearing testimony in its sturdy bulk to
the honest and durable work put upon it by its builders. Not a joist had
bent, not a girder started in the long course of its two hundred and odd
years of life. The brick-work of its twisted chimney-stacks was intact,
and the stone carving over its doorways and window frames; only the
immense growth of the ivy on its side walls attested to its age. It
takes longer to build ivy five feet thick than many castles, and though
new masonry by trick and artifice may be made to look like old, there is
no secret known to man by which a plant or tree can be induced to
simulate an antiquity which does not rightfully belong to it.
Innumerable sparrows and tomtits had built in the thick mats of the old
ivy, and their cries and twitters blended in shrill and happy chorus as
they flew in and out of their nests.
The Grange had been a place of importance, in Queen Elizabeth's time, as
the home of an old Devon family which was finally run out and
extinguished. It was now little more than a superior sort of farm-house.
The broad acres of meadow and pleasaunce and woodland which had given it
consequence in former days had been gradually parted with, as
misfortunes and losses came to its original owners. The woods had been
felled, the pleasure grounds now made part of other people's farms, and
the once wide domain had contracted, until the ancient house stood with
only a few acres about it, and wore something the air of an old-time
belle who has been forcibly divested of her ample farthingale and
hooped-petticoat, and made to wear the scant kirtle of a village maid.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. ALONG THE NORTH DEVON COAST 7
II. MISS OPDYKE FROM NEW YORK 40
III. THE LAST OF DEVON AND THE FIRST OF AMERICA 65
IV. IN THE HIGH VALLEY 93
V. ARRIVAL 127
VI. UNEXPECTED 149
VII. THORNS AND ROSES 174
VIII. UNCONDITIONAL SURRENDER 204
IX. THE ECHOES IN THE EAST CANYON 235
X. A DOUBLE KNOT 267
IN THE HIGH VALLEY.
CHAPTER I.
ALONG THE NORTH DEVON COAST.
IT was a morning of late May, and the sunshine, though rather watery,
after the fashion of South-of-England suns, was real sunshine still, and
glinted and glittered bravely on the dew-soaked fields about Copplestone
Grange.
This was an ancient house of red brick, dating back to the last half of
the sixteenth century, and still bearing testimony in its sturdy bulk to
the honest and durable work put upon it by its builders. Not a joist had
bent, not a girder started in the long course of its two hundred and odd
years of life. The brick-work of its twisted chimney-stacks was intact,
and the stone carving over its doorways and window frames; only the
immense growth of the ivy on its side walls attested to its age. It
takes longer to build ivy five feet thick than many castles, and though
new masonry by trick and artifice may be made to look like old, there is
no secret known to man by which a plant or tree can be induced to
simulate an antiquity which does not rightfully belong to it.
Innumerable sparrows and tomtits had built in the thick mats of the old
ivy, and their cries and twitters blended in shrill and happy chorus as
they flew in and out of their nests.
The Grange had been a place of importance, in Queen Elizabeth's time, as
the home of an old Devon family which was finally run out and
extinguished. It was now little more than a superior sort of farm-house.
The broad acres of meadow and pleasaunce and woodland which had given it
consequence in former days had been gradually parted with, as
misfortunes and losses came to its original owners. The woods had been
felled, the pleasure grounds now made part of other people's farms, and
the once wide domain had contracted, until the ancient house stood with
only a few acres about it, and wore something the air of an old-time
belle who has been forcibly divested of her ample farthingale and
hooped-petticoat, and made to wear the scant kirtle of a village maid.
Share
