CHAPTER IV.

Otago Witness, Issue 1456, 11 October 1879, Page 22

CHAPTER IV.

The Kedcue.

I did not lie ?there long. I know that I should be rniesed and sought for, and dreaded the hue and cry of the search, the inquisitive queDlions aud still more inquisitive eyes, through the ordeal of winch I should have to pass.

60 I rose, and running into the house, bathed my face and smoothed my hair and dress.

Then taking the candle ia my hand and holding it hiyii, I looked fixedly at my own image ia the glass. It was perhaps the first time in my life that I had done this with any other thought than to see if my hair was neat and my collar properly fastened. Now I looked at myself earnestly and critically. I saw a dark little face, with a short blunt nose, that looked as if it had never been properly finished, heavy-lidded eyes, red with tears ; and a large mouth. I was ugiy, very ugly ; how was it that I had never thought of this before ? In my happj' quiet home it had never .occurred to me to question whether I was pretty or the reverse. I was loved, and that knowledge was enough for me ; but now it was different, I longed to know the worst. There could be no doubt about it. I was u gly> very ugly, and Lizzie was so pretty. Ab I thought about hc-.r, her face seemed to come before me aud to take tho placo of my own in the mirror.

I saw the golden hair, the pink and v/hite skin, the dainty pointed nuso, and small mouth.

What waa I, thst I cottld hope to contend with h; : r, f,o keep for inysulf any prjza on which she h/id ret her mind.

Beb'ca* to yieLl without a sfcmggle, aud to endure withouL moaning or complaint. I hv.rl not read many books it is trc", T jCit in all of tlu-m— f"<,m tho ian-y laics' of chilhood upward — the heroine hu.d liocn wondeifully beautiful, -ar.d loved f . r her beauty. JNnturaJly I thought thin was the rule of life. Of course, one's own kindred — father and mother, brothero and sisters — were different, and the sweet home love, that oame aa sn unbought gift and an unalienable heritage, wss due to no external

ohaim. A loving heart, and useful willing hands, were all that ■were needed to keep and strengthen it ; but with other love, the love of strangers, it was not so ; that was reached by a magic door to which beauty was the only key. I had not the key, so übjat door, was shut against me for ever. I set the candle down. A great tear fell hissing on the fame and nearly extinguished it. What matter ! The light, had shown me too much already j better that it should die down into darkness. I was ugly. I would never forget that, but keep it always in mind, and not wonder at the scant Bhare of attention that was paid to - me, All my life long I must walk in. the shadow^ un sought, unloved. It was a cruel thought, and one not to be immediately grasped, for in our early youth life saoms so long, its' vista is practically endless. And a life without love, who dare face it ? Certainly I dared not, so with a reßolute effort of will I put the thought from me, and with a mute prayer for strength and patience I oeized the candle aud ran to the kitchen, where I heaped the fireplace with logs and hung the large kettle on to boil ; our guests would need hot tea or grog before they departed. I set a. tray with cups and glasses, cut basketsful of cake, and prepared to carry them to the barn. They would serve ag an excuse for my loug absence. I At the foot of the garden I met Dick coming to seek me, •Mother sent mo," he explained. She could nob think where you had got to — .and we want some more oake — and you are to come and danee — Archie says bo." '"Here's bhe oake; I have been to the house to fetch it."

He thrust his hand ioto the basket, seized a^arge piece and began to devour it. ,"My ! isn't it golly ! I wish we gave a party every day. And, I say 1 Ally, ia it not a shame, Lizzie promised to dance two dances with me, and now she won't j she pays she must give one to Davie. I'll punch his head to-morrow."

"Oh no you won't. I have kept a whole cake for you, and I shan't give it you if you fight. Dick, do you think Lizzie very pretty ? " ' "Kather !" ho replied -'with enthusiasm. " Her oheeka are so pink, and her hair— its like gold you know, and then she has a way of looking at a fellow that makes oae feel all overish ; I can'b explain, but you know." " Yes, I think I do ; and Dick, am I — am I very ugly ? "

'- " You? Ally ! I never thought about it, but now you ask me, I suppose you are ; but then it doesn't matter for you, you know, you're only a girl." ■ " Lizzie is a girl too." i " Of course she is, but that's different. She's a stunner, and you " i "I am only your siste* 1 , Dick." ' " Yes, that's what I meant ; you are my Bister, and a good little sister too j and after all you are not so very ngly. And I say, 1 Ally, ia it really true — that about the oake, you know? have you really kept one for me?" , ' ' Really and truly, one for you and one for Davie ; but you shall not have them unless you promise me nob to fight." " All right, old girl, I promise j give us another whack now ;" and he dipped his hand into the basket and hastily disappeared with his plunder.

I entered the barn.

A countryman Co was in progress : I had never seen it before. Affcerwards I heard that it was called the " Triumnh ."

I watched the dancers with interest. A long line of men and girls stood fachig each other. ! As I watched, Archie took his partner, Lizzie, to the top of the row ; they were joined by Tom Mackenzie, a young- farmer who lived over the ridges : each clasped one o£ Lizzie's hands, and then joining their own disengaged fiagera they lifted their arms in a sort of arch over her head and led her down the dance iv triumph. 1 I saw Lizzie glance from one to the other of her supporters, a queen consoious of homage. I saw Archie whisper softly in her ear, and Tom's bronzed facg pale and his lips quivei % , and the utter indiffereuce with which he turned to his own partner and conducted her through the figure : and then I took up the baskets of cakes and handed them round, and resolutely turned my back on the dancers.

Soon Archie came to me.

1 "The next is a wftltz ; I ordered it expressly for you. My pupil has not yeb had an opportunity of showing her dexterity. Come, I expect you to do credit to my teaching."

: "No, I cannot dance; I know I should make mistakes, and then every one would laugh. Ask Lizzie." " Why Lizzie ? It ia you I want." " I c-«nnot ; really I cannot. Lizzie does it so well, and I—"I — "

"Alice, I did not think you so foolish," he said gravely. " Surely you are not jealous of your friend ." All the blood in my body ssemed to rush to my face at this reproach, and my heart beat violently. '

Jealous ! Could it indeed be tlut I was jealous of Lizzie's pretty face, manners, and accomplishments ? I felt small indeed, contemned in his eyes of 30 moan a vice.

Meekly I took his arm, and the music began. I made a mess of it ; there is no disguising the* fact. My feet seemed frozan or wooden ; they would not move in time, but shufildd about in an ungainly manner. I thought he would be angry and annoyed ; that made me worse. I floundered aud could not recover myself. Ojice — twice thrice he paused and started again, but 1 could not manage it. Finally we withdrew from the circle of daucars and sat down.

I was afraid to look at him, I ftlfc he must be so vvfxed j better that, better auythiog than that he should fhink that I was jealous of Lizzie. Now I had done my b?st co please him awd tailed ; however anuoyed he might be, surely he would do mo juslico in thid. I had tried my he?.t, but in ail thingK Lizzie was my superior. I murmured something of this ; to my surprise ha did not r,ce«i Vf-xei!, but treated tha matter very lightly.

"It was quifca a common thing; people often s'ood up to dauc3 and made a mess of it. No, 1 had not made a fool of myself, that was a morbid idea, Waltzing was nob easy, it required plenty of practice and per.

fept unconsciousness j I jw&b and" frig&tened, bo of course "I failed.- '■ I should do all right another,time." - ' "-1 ' , ' ". I felt grateful for his kindness, and said , so : „'•'.' "I feared you would ba vexed." "Perhaps I am, but not wifch you." "You are aeon tired," said Lizzie, speak, ing over her partner's shoulder asshe whirled past, and -then brought him to a stop .just by my side, "I think I may as well reat a little too. I have danced every dance tonight — and you, Ally ?" "This has been my first, and I think it will be my last," I answered, trying to speak lightly. "I am not an experienced performer, as you are, and I don't like to involve my partners in my misfortunes." " Oh ! that is quite too conscientious. But if you are really not going to danoe any more, ' perhaps you will spare Mr Lovel to give me a, turn : he is such a splendid waltzer, and , I think Mr Mackenzie is tired." " Pray go, Archie," I said. Poor Tom gnawed his tiny moustache, and muttered below his breath : "Well, that's cool, anyhow ;" and our respective partners moved away together. Tom and I had known each other since we were children, and were not accustomed to stand on any sort of ceremony with each other. His doleful countenanco as he turned it on me seemed so inexpressibly absurd — hio wob being so out of all proportion to the occasion — that in spite of my own pain, I could not help laughing. " Poor Tom !" I said, " and ara you also bitten?" " • "Yes. Ally," he answered. "I dare aay you won't believe me, but I love that girl, and — " . ' "Love her?" I cried; "why you never set eyes on her until a few hours ago." ' ' "What docß that matter ?" he answered tragically. " There is such a thing as love at first sight." ' " Ah ! Tom," I said, "'hottest love is aooneat cold ;' ripest apples soonest fall.'" • " Ah ! you don't understand," he returned, and heaved a sigh which made the temporary and fragile structure on which we were seated shake most ominously. " Come and help me to arrange supper," I said practically ; and his love was not so . violent as to make him de*f to the suggestion, nor, I observed, did it prevent his'making a very good and substantial repast. The supper was an iafortaal affair : each one took it when and how he pleased ; and the daacing wenh on with iistie or no interruption. The fiddler oughb to have been tired ; but he only drank more whiskey and played more energetioally as the hours went od, and seemed as if he was moved by .well wound machinery that was in no danger of breaking down. [' It was about half-past two. I felt very weary, and wondered when oar gaests might be expected to depart. They showed no inclination that way j many openly announced their intention of " keeping it up until morning light." I .was seated in a corner, with my arm resting on a ledge, and my head resting on my hand. In this position, and in a spot where. the oandles had burned dim, so that I was likely to remain unseen, I hoped to rest and escape notice. ' ■, Sitting thus, an unoccupied spectator, I ■ • saw something which seemed, to ine.yery strange, and whicn powerfully' aroused'-nrat '- my interest, then my curiosity, then a sentiment of fear, an overpowering dread of some ' coming evil, I guessed not what. •„ ' ' As I watched, it seemed to me that some word was passed from man to man, which caused them to draw away silently buiswiftly, making little or no excuse, but rapidly disengaging themselves from their occupation) whether dancing, eatiDg, or flirting.. In a few seconds all the youngest,, otrougest, and ablest of the men had deserted the ballroom. I looked for Archie ; he was nowhere visible. My father and brothers had also disappeared. I heard one woman say to another : 1 "« What's« What's up ? where are the fellows off to?" And she answered carelessly : ' - "Oh ! for a drink and a smoke, I stm« pose." / > It might be so, but the presentiment of ill told me otherwise. I crept nearer the door. A face appeared, and two keen eyes swiftly scanned the occupants of the room, as if seating for some one. They lighted on me, and I answered the unspoken call at once. "What is it, Archie?" He drew my head to his and whiapered : "Don't cry out. The rioks are on fiie. Tell your mothor quietly, and keep it as'^ much as possible from the other women. •There is no cause for alarm ; everything is being done that can be done, and the flames will be out in a few minutes ; but we don't want to frighten the women, so keep it from them if you can " Vain command ! He hurried away, and I got mother into a quiet corner and told her ; but before I could make her understand me, and impress upon her the necessity for silence, the news had spread like wild fire. " Fire ! Fire ! Fire !"

The ory rang up through beams and rafters.

Th.Bro was a wild stampede. In five seconds not a creature was left in the barn ; some doubtless believing that that buildiug and their own lives were in danger, rushing frantically away they cared not whither ; others, besitatisig and trembling, clustered by the door. " WJieieis it?" No need to repeat the question. High up in the dark night gky a dense inasa cf smoko rose Uke a black cloud, pierced no .f and again by forked tongues of flame, which quiver-id hko red lightning through the iwurky miss. While little obscured by tho gUre or the smoke the moon rode, high ov-*r fr.ll, ia the clear depth of the nighfc blue heavun, c* Italy unconsoious of the turmoil b«iow.

Tho roar of thn devouring flames came to o'n-eaia, u>y /.he wind had risen and was blowitfs^ sU tidily iv our- direction. The smell of burning, too, was distinctly perceptible, and Archie must have been strangely credulous if he had really hoped that we should neither hear, nor see, nor smell the fire, "Where is it ?''

" Yonder; just at. the foot of tho braa, behind that clump of blue gums " For convenience in feeding the horses the

Btacks had been built close to the stable and stockyard, and at some distance from the house, the large barn standing about halfway between, though: not in a direct line. There was a considerable number of stacks, and they had been built somewhat close together. I remembered distinctly that Archie had remonstrated with father on this arrangement ; but the old man had made light of his objection's," declaring that he liked to have plenty of fodder close at hand, and that " there was 'no fear of rick fires in a country where 'one had no rough neighbours and no discontented labourero ;" and now the very evil had occurred which Archie had feared. How the fire originated we never knew ; probably from the unextinguished match of some careleßs smoker, who, strolling about in the moonlight, was taking stock of father's possessions, and possibly comparing the size and structure of his stacks with those of some £ther farmer. I Indistinct shouts and cries came to us, rising aad falling with the wind. "Let us go nearer. I want to see what they are doing." It was Lizzie who spoke. In chat moment of excitement sho hail grown strangely quiet and reserved. A little to tho right ofjiis was a steep bank which ran in a kind of low ridge straight down the side of the valley, until it ended somewhat .precipitately just at the back of the stockyard fence. From this spot we should command a splendid view of the stacks, and all that went on in their nelgh-

bourhood. Lizzie knew the place well, and even as ahe spoke she led the way in that direction. I observed then and afterwards that she appeared in no W»y hurried or disturbed. "I have never seen a fire," she said, " though I have often wished to do so. Pray let us go nearer— look at the sparks; how pretty they "are, they remind me of gigantic fireworks.- lam glad I have seen it." So thia calamity which might mean ruin to us, and the loss of the whole year's crop, presented itself to her only in the light of a spectacle prepared for her amusement. In my anger and pain I said something of this sort. When later on we stood in full view of 'the seen© and beheld the terrible havock made by the flames— the way in which they caught Btack after stack and bid defiance to all the efforts made to extinguish them— she answered quietly, « You are unjust, as you always are. If I had lighted the tire for my own amusement, you might blame me. As it ia, I really cannot see what fault you can find with me. Oonfesß yourself ? is it not a stirring scene," It was indeed. From the position we had now gained we could see every movement in the yard below. , The wind had changed a little, and the smoke, and sparks were driven away from us', bo that we could see the figures of men and boys' hurrying here and there, leaping and 'gesticulating in what seemed to us an an obieotletß excitement. 1 « What are they doing now V "They have thrown ropes over the great wheat stack and are trying to move it a little further from' the flames. But I fear they won't succeed. Oh 1 it ia catching fire already, and father said only yesterday that it was worth bo much that the sale of it would enable him to pay off the last instalment on his ,land, and that when that waß dbrie 1 tie should be free. Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! we shall be ruined. "Don't look on the worst side of things, Alice," said' a' kind neighbour consolingly. "It iefcft great misfortune surely; but Davle Grant-is^iotffche man to be ruined bo easily : it'll put liim"behiad in his payments for a while 'may be, but that is all ; so don't fret my girl. Ye'shouldayebe thankfulthat man and beast are spared " The beasts J ah, Heaven ! Even as she spoke what was that terrible cry that rent the air and pierced to our very hearts. A cry of impotent terror, a yell of rago and pain, so loud, 'bo 'fierce, so piercing in its anguish, so unearthly in its horror, that we turned from one. to the other crying : 1 " What is it ? oh, God ! what is it ?" It came again— : louder, more shrill than before, and this time I recognised it. _ "It is the horses. Dear Heaven !it is the horseß, the stable must have caught fire." • As I h*ve said, the stackyard was near the stables. When the fire commenced the

wind blew the flames entirely away from it,

bo that it seemed perfectly safe, aad no ono thought it necessary to move the horses. When the wind veered, and fire threatened ' the wheat-stack, all attention was directed to the task of Baying it, and none remembered that the very same breeze would probably blow Bparks on to the dry thatched roof of the stable, and that if it once caught fire, nothing could save it from Bwift destraction, for it waß of rough timber, thatched with, rushes, and therefore highly combustible. There were six horses on the farm — how well I knew them all, from old Smiler to young Clyde. There was not one who would not follow me round tho yard f>>r c&irots and potatoes, or suffer me to ride him barebacked to and from the watering. I knew them and loved them so well. I even thought that I could distinguish their. voices in the hoarse cry of agony that rang in my ears as I fled down the steep slope, for J. could no longer remain a paesive Epsctator of the terrible scene. The men had heard the hideous cry, and paused in their efforts to save tho wheat. " The horses ! save the horses !" But alas ! who could do it, and how ? The high pitched roof was already a mass of hissing, curling fUmes, that seemed to my excited fancy as if thirsting for their prey. Ono man — how I blessed him for it — dashed in the door, and one of the hoisas (it was old Smiler) Btumbled out, half blinded with smoke and fhme ; and with a joyful whinney dashed through the crowd which opened willingly to led him pass ; bu?; the otherjjhorses did not follow their leader. They were young and nervous, frightened out of all instinct of self-preseivation. The posts of the door were on tire, and they dare not pass the barrier of flame. I could hear them trampling in their stalls and uttering shrill cries of terror. •' Archie I Arohle ! save them/ In my exoitoment I had penetrated through

the crowd, and heedless of the scorching heat, the suffocating smoke, and blindiug sparka, was pushing my way towards the stable. Lizzie had followed me, but I did not immediately perceive her. Thus it happened that I ran against Archie, who seemed to be looking for Komsthing. "Archie ! Archie ! save them." "I am going to try. Give me that j" and without further ceremony he took the light shawl that I wore round my Shoulders and tore it ittto five long strips. " I shall blindfold them, it is their oly chance."

He turned away.

Lizzie caught his hand. " Are you mad," ahe cried, " to peril your life for that of a brute f

He looked at her, a Jook so full of withering contempt, that had any man looked so at me, I think I must havo struck him in the face, or have crept away and never dared to meet a brave man's eyes again. He looked at her, and then without a word put her on ouo side.

But she would not let him go so easily. "See, the flimes are spreading, you cannot save them. It is a pity to lose them, but you can buy others."

Again that cry of agony

He thrust her from him as one would shaka off a poisonous reptile or a deadly Bin, and sprang through the flaming doorway. We could not see what he did : but one after the other — oue — two — three — four of the horaea, securely blindfolded, sprang out between the burning posts, and trembling in every limb, and white with foam, rushed madly away from the scene of their recent terror.

Of the six, all were now safe but one, and long as I have been iv telling the story, the rescue occupied only a few moments ; but ia those few moments the flames had spread rapidly, the thatch was one mass of glowing fire ready to fall as soon as the strong rafcers should be burned through. The heat was intense ; though in my anxiety I saarcely felt it ; but my pretty new dress was completely spoiled, and my hands and face were scorched with the falling Bparks. An awful fear dawned upon me. " Archie ! Archie ! make haste ; the roof is falling." "Lovel! Lovel! save yourself. Quick, quick !" I think I tried to throw myself into the fire with the wild hope of reaching him, but some one held me back.

" Arohie ! Archie ! oh, God 1 the roof has fallen — let me go to him, let me go." A ringing cheer of triumph, The sixth horae approached the doorway, hesitated, and trembled. He smelt the fire in front of him though he could not see it, and in spite of all urging he would not pass it. It was Clyde, the youngest of our team, a splendid up-standing brute of Bix years old, very spirited and staunch, but somewhat nervous, as youog horses are apt to be, and frightened of anything that was strange. He wanted soothing instead of urging. Ia his terror he struck out with his heels and was therefore unapproachable from the roar. While he stood in that position neither he nor Archie could ba saved, and the roof behind them was already falling in. Another second and escape would ba impossible, and I should see him die there before my eyes The thought gave me a strength that seemed almost superhuman. I thrust aside the hands that held me, I advanced a few steps and apoke to the horsa in the gentle coaxing tones to which he was accustomed.

. At first he did not seem to hear j then he put his head ou ono Bide and listened, ceasing to kick and plunge.

" Clyde ! Clyde ! good horse, come to me." It was an awful moment. The heat wa3 intense. I felt as if I could scarcely breathe, and yet I continued the wooing caU, in a voice that I tried to make as natural as possible.

"Clyde ! Clyde ! good horse, come out."

He knew me^ that was certain, and yet he hesitated.

A brand from the roof fell upon his hind quarters ; fortunately it did not touch his head.

He sprang forward ; again I called him, and then the fatal doorway was clear.

" Arcbie ! Archie ! Why don't you come now ; make haste, or it will be too late." Then as the smoke blew aside we saw a dark object on the ground. Oh, Heaven !it is he ; the horse has kicked him, perhaps killed him. Ah no, he moves, scrambles to his feet, and staggers forward. At that instant the heavy beams supporting the roof g«.vo way with a crash, the lintels fell together, and the whole building was a mass of flame.

A dozen hands seize him and bear him to a place of safety. And then the fire is left to its own wicked will ; none have the heart to struggle with it longer, for he, the hero of the hour, is lyiDg insensible, scorched and burned beyond recognition, and none dire give voice to the question that rises in every heart, " Can he live ?"

(3b he continued. — Commenced in No 1452 )