THE BEADS OF TASMER.

Auckland Star, Volume XXII, Issue 94, 24 April 1891, Page 3

THE BEADS OF TASMER.

BY AMELIA E. BARR, Author of ' Friend Olivia.

CHAPTER IV.

UNDERCOKEKNTS,

' Wβ do but guess at one another darkly 'mid

That thickens round us ; in this life of ours We are like players, knowing not the powers Nor compass of the instruments we vex, And by our rash, unskilful hands perplex To straining discords." • What talk i« there of fathers "when there is such a man as Orlando T

After his conversation with his sister, Donald took his gun, and passing through the fir-wood at its narrowest part, was soon on the wild heath beyond it. Hβ was not a keen sportsman, and this morning his solitude was more to him than game. After an hour's tramp he came suddenly In sight of a grand stag—a mighty beast, with a stretch of horns like the half of a cart-wheel. From his nostrils the breath was pouring like smoke, and hie great yellow body glistened in the sun. Donald could see the perfect cup of three points surmounting either antler, and the animal's bellowing tilled the little corrie with its hollow, angry roar. He could have shot him easily, and for a moment was inclined to do so. ' For he is a ten-pointer, i£ nob a royal,'he thought, 'and it would be something; of a triumph to take home such a prize—a respectable introduction to Lenox and Maclane—and father would like it, I know.' But he deliberately let the chance pass. ' Poor iellow ! Why should I slay him ? He is so eager and happy :' and with the thought the gun was lowered.

The kind act put him into one of his best moods : aftor it, he had no desire to Kill the birds around him. The cock grouse strutted fearlessly with his mate within easy iange, and Donald was contentto watch the bird's bright crimson comb and rich, brown plumaere, and to smile at his lordly attentions to the plainer hen-bird. The whirring creatures did not otherwise stir him ; even the kick-ic-ic of a covey of grouse put no tingle in his fingers. For a good soul has infinite relationships with nature, full of mystery in their beginnings, but loading ib to the glow of sacrifice and the ideality of love by ways quite incomprehensible. Donald's love made him a better man. Thinking of Roberta, he was always astonished to find himself capable of actions above the usual standard of bis life. Thus, in some way, it was Roberta that saved the stag's life, and gave the cock-grouse and his ehy mate safety. He was so happy in his love, and yet there appears to be a divine necessity for joining joy and sorrow together. As surely as we climb some mount of happiness, we find that the way of ecii'ow lies parallel with it. . Donald was so happy, and yet he was anxious and unhappy; for (Sara's words had only put into tangible form vague suspicions familiar to his heart. ...

He perceived that greab changes were to take place at Tasmer ; he understood that any change there musk, in some way, react upon his own life. He was curious, and yet uneasy about their visitors ; he had an idea that people who were permitted to come in contact with other existences had some message to deliver to them, or some influence to exert upon them. They were to be the touch of fate.

So musing, with Roberta B&lfour always as an underlying thought, he wandered until the short winter day began to close. With put being conscious of it, be had instinctively drawn near to the ocean. For ever, it called to bis soul ac a mother calls to her child. In joy or sorrow, in doubt or tremor of any kind, Donald felt its mysterious attraction creep into his blood, and he answered the voice that no one but himself heard. To-night, it was tossing at his feet,, and echoing with sounds that said: ' Come I Come I Come J' plainly enough to him.

He turned reluctantly away from the temptation ; catching in the grey light the grey sails of the Sea Bird, and feeling an almost irresistible longing to be in her snug cabin on the tide top. The castle was all alight as he emerged from the gloom of the firs ; and a great wood-fire threw shifting lustres and shadows over arms and antlers and thick modern rugs and heavy furniture. In the silver wall-sconcee there was also, a profusion of litrht, and Donald wondered, as he went up the usually dim stairway, what motive Sir Rolfe had in such extravagance. It had the effect, however, of making him particularly careful aa to his Own appearance, and if any old thane of Ross could have soen the slim, handsome youth in his broadcloth and tine linen, he must have wondered greatly ab his descendant. He found Sara already in the drawing-room, and looking exceedingly beautiful. Her dress of blue silk added some marvellous charm to the dull glow of her hair and the snow and rose of her complexion, and Donald looked ab her with a brotherly pride and pleasure. They were standing together on the hearth-rug, in a loving, confidential attitude, when Mr Maelane entered the room. Hβ thought they were the handsomest couple he had ever seen, and he stood still a moment to please himself with the living picture. Then Sara turned, and holding Donald's hand, went forward a few steps to meet him.

'This is my brother, Mr Macl&ne—my brother Donald. And what) kind of sport have you had, eir ?'

'I am glad to see you, sir ; and as for sport) Mies Torquil, I think the pleasures of sport are very much over-rated. I have been wading , through marshes, I have had my feeb wet, and shivered up and down hills, and worn myself Out with carrying a gun. I have killed throe fine cock grouse and a few hens, and I feel like a murderer. I only hope I shall nob be asked to eat my victims. .

• That ii not the usual way of describ ing a day's shooting, sir,' said Donald, stnil ing.

' No, I suppose ib is nob.' * Yeb I have been in thorough sympathy with you co-day, I took my gun to the hille, but; I could nob make up my mind to destroy life either. The innocent creatures were so happy. If I had tired, I should have felt like an assassin.'

•Come, now, I like that—and from a young man too ! I think Wβ are going to be friends, sir.'

He spoke with an air of candour there was no resisting, although he was not What is usually called a handsome or facinating man. Nature had not carefully finished her work in Andrew Maclane ; bub he was cast in a noble mould, and the difficulties and struggles of his life had given, combined with intelligent and persevering culture, an almost sculptural appearance to features originally nob fine. Hβ spoke with the burr, and something also of the homely patois, of a man born jusb south of the Solway, and ib was worth while hearing him speak to a fool According to his folly. He had been always engaged in business, and he was now the hand to which a thousand other hands were extended. And yeb he had ever found time for. communion with books; indeed, hitherto he had been fonder of books than of men ; and had made his best friends in the land of shadows, among images of departed heroes and benefactors.

Hβ was so honest, thab Donald understood in five minutes that ho was in love with Sara 5 that was very likely his fire* love for women, and would just as likely be his last. Hβ could not conceal its admiration, although ib was blenb with a humility

which would probably be his worst antagonist; for what woman ever thought better of a lover for his timidity ? (To be Continued.)