A SINGER FROM THE SEA.

Auckland Star, Volume XXIV, Issue 282, 28 November 1893, Page 6

A SINGER FROM THE SEA.

ST AMELIA E. BARE.

Author ol 'The Beads of Tasmar,' 'The Mate of the "Eaater Bel L,"' 'The Household of McNeil,' 4 Friend Olivia,,' Etc., Etc., Etc

CHAPTER XVI.-(Conbinußd.)

On bhtf 24th, all was ready bo bring home the boat. She had been sold to Denas Tresham, the money paid, and the deed of transfer to John Penelles ready made. out. There had also been prepared a paper for the Sb. Penfer ' News,' which was to appear thab day, and which Lawyer Tremaine eaid would supply ten days' holiday gossip for the citizens. And no day specially made for so happy an event could have been lovelier. The sea was dimpling all over in the sunshine; there was just the right wind, and jusb enough of ib, to let Tris reach harbour in the aftertfbon. John wondered at the air of excitement in his cottage; Joan was singing; Denas had her best dress on, and both had been busy -unking clotted cream and junket and pies of all kinds. In fact, John was a libble depressed by this extravagance of lighb hearts. He did nob think the money Denas gob from her Bchool warranted ib, and he was heart-sick with the terrible fear that the busy Beason was at hand and that he had found nothing to do. Adam Oliver's bwo nephews from Cardiff had come bo help him, and that that one place; and neither Trenager nor Penlow had said a word to him; and his brave old soul sank within him. 4 And what be in the wind with you women I know nothing of,' ho said, fretfully. * Bub you do have some unlikely old ways.' * Whab wav be bhe wind, John, dear?' 4 A little nor'ard, what there be of it; only a capful, though.' * Aw, then, John, look to the nor'ard ; for good luck do come tbe way the wind blows.' ' Good luck do come the way God sends ib, Joan.' • And many a time and oft it do be coming and us nob thinking of it.' John nodded gravely. There was little hope in his hearb, bub he went as usual to the pier and sbood there watching the boats. Most of them were now ready for the fishing. When the heurs, or men on bhe lookout, saw the shadow of a dark cloud coming on and on over bhe sea, when they waved the signal bush right and lefb over their heads and sweeping their feet, then they would move out of harbour and shoot the seine John was very anxious. His lips were moving, though he was silent. His body was mindful of the situation; hia soul waß praying. * Thab be a strange boat,' said Penlow, after a long gossip; "well managed, though. The man ab her wheel, whoever be be, knows the set of tbe tide round here as well as be knows bis cabin. I wonder what boab that be.' John had no hearb to echo the wonder. Another strange boat, doubtless, bringing more fishers. He said ib was getting teatime ; he would go along. He knew thab if the fish were found, and tbere was a seat in a boat, .it would be offered him. Hewould nob give his mates the pain of refusing or of apologising. The nexb day he would go toSb. Ives. . When he reached his cobtage he saw Joan and Denas on bho doorsbep wabching the comingj^b^ab. Their smiles amd interesb hurt rntix. He walked to the hearth and began to fill his pipe. Then Denas, with a large paper in her hand, came to his side. She slipped on to his knee; she laid her cheek against his cheek; she said softly, ~ and oh, so lovingly : • Father ! Father 1 The boat coming ! Did you ccc her ?' 'To be sure, Denas. I Baw her, my dear.' ' She is your boat, father. Tours from mast-head to keel—all yours 1' He looked ab her a momenb and theo said : * Speak them words again, Denaß.' She spoke them again, smiling with frank delight and love into his face. 'Thank Heaven ! Now tell me about it. Joan, my old dear, come and tell me about it' Then they sat down bogether and told bim all, and showed bim the St. Penfer •News' containing Lawyer Tremaine's statement regarding the property which had come of righb to Denas. And John listened until the burden be had been carrying rolled quite away from* his heart, and with a great sigh he stood up and said loudly, over and over again : 4 Thank Heaven ! Thank Heaven ! Thank Heaven !' Then, as if a sudden hurry pressed him, he cried : ' Come, Joan ! Come, Denas I Leb us go to the pier and welcome her home I' She waa just tacking to reach harbour when tbey mingled with the crowd of men and women already there, and Ann Trewillow was calling out: • Why, ib is Triß Penrose at her wheel!' Then, as she came closer, a man shouted : 4lt be the Darling Denas I It musb be .John Penelles'a boat! To be sure it be John's boat 1' This opinion was reached by an instant conviction, and every faeo was turned to John. •lbbe my boat, mates, Thank Heaven and my littlo girl! It be my boab, thank Heaven!' And then Tris was at the sup, and the anchor down, and all the men were as eager about bhe new craft as a group of horsemen could possibly be "aboub the points of some \ famous winner. Tris had to tell every particular aboub her builder and her building ; 1 and as the fishers were talking excitedly of these things, Joan gave a general invitation ,to her friends, and tbey followed her to the cotfage, and heard the St. Penfer ' News ' .wsad, and had a plate of jurikob and of clotted cream. iArtd thoy wero really proud and glad of wliafc they heard. Denas had made herself _..,> '.--cloved thab no one had a grudging or env;ioufl feeling. Every one considered how •the \ bad come back to them as if she had been* penniless. * And teaching our little ones, too, with sixteen hundred pounds at ber Luck. Wonderful ! Wonderful !' said fii-ntr cine nnd then soother of the women. Indeed, if Denas had thought oub a plan to make Verself honoured and popular,: she could htvrdly have conceived of ono more in iKi'wm >vith the simple souls she had to influence. . They could nob sleep for talking about lb. \ Denas Penelles was a veritable romance to them. • And fidr she was and fair she be, Baid Mary Oliver, 'a good woman with not a pfnch of piiide in her make up. And if Tris Penrose win nor, and she win him, a proper wedding ib will be—a wedding madeby their guardian angels. Ido think thab.' And tho i*rowd of women presenb, answered one and then another : • * A proper wedding it will be !To be sure.' , s In tho evening there was a great praisemooting at John's cobtage, for in St. Penfer all re'o'icing a.nd all sorrow ended in a reliaious meeting. And Denas and Tris saug out of the same hymn-book, and sab side by eide as they listened to John's quaintly eloquent tribute to the God 'who did always ' keep faith with his children.' . i waß like to lose sight of my God,' he cried ' bub my God never did lose sight of urn 'God's children be well off.. He goes so 'neighbourly ivith bhem. He is their Pilot and their Home-bringer. I did weep to myself all lail» night, and then as His promise says : •• Joy did come in the morn. !____________

And then John burst into song, and all his mates and neighbours with him. And it is in buc.'i holy exalted atmospheres that love reaches its sweetest, fairest strength and bloom. Tris had no need of words. Words would have blundered and hampered and darkened all he had to say. One look ab Denas as they closed bhe book together, one look aa he held her hand on the doorstop, and she knew more than words could ever have said. She saw through his eyes to the botton of his clear honesb soul, and she knew that he loved her as men love who find in one woman only the sign of life, the master-key of all their being. She expected Tris would come and see her the nexb day, bub Ann Trewillow broughb word thab he had sailed wibh Mr Arundel. Tris had been expecting tbi3 movement, and the yachb had only been j waibing for guesbs who had suddenly arrived. Denas was rabher pleased ab bhe occurrence. She was nob prepared yeb to admit a new love. She felb that either in refusing or accepting Trie's affection she would be doing both herself and Tris an injustice,' A love that does nob spring into existence perfect needs cautious tending. Too much sunshine, too much care, too constanb watching will slay it. There must be time given for it to grow in. . Without reasoning on the matter, Denas felb that absence would be a good thing. She was afraid of being driven by emotion or by circumstances into a mistaken position. And she had now an absorbing interesb in her life. Her school was a delighb. No consideration of money qualified her pleasure in her pupils. She was eager to teach all she know. She was eager to learn that she might teach more. As the weeks went by her school gob a local fame. It was considered a greab privilege bo obtain a place in ib. Good fortune seemed to have come to | Sb. Penfer by bhe sea when Denas came back bo ib. Never had there been a more abundanb sea harvesb than that summer. The Darling Denas broughb luck to the whole fleet. She was a swifter sailer, and always first of the fishing ground, and always first in harbour again. And it was a great pleasure to Denas to watch her namesake leading oub and leading home, bhe brown-sailed bread-winners of the hamlet. When bhe time and the tide and the weather all served, Denas might now often be seen with her mother and the rest of the fishermen's wives standing on the windblown pier, watching the boats oub in the evening. There had been a time when she had positively declined the loving ceremony; | when she had hated tbe thoughb of any community in such feelings; when tbe large brown faces of the wives and mothers and the sad patience of their attitude had seemed to her only the visible signs of a poor and sorrowful life. And even yeb as she stood among bhem, she was haunted by a rhyme she had read in some picturepaper years ago—a rhyme, thab so pabhebically glanced ab love that dwelt between life and death, that she never could see a group of fishermen's wives on tbe pier, watching the boats outside, without saying it to herself: ' They gazed on the boats from the pier! Ah, me! Till their sails swelled in the wind ; Till darkness dropped down over the sea. And their eyes with tears were blind. Then home they turned, and they never spoke. These daughters and wires of the fisher-folk. Bub years and experience had taught her the falsehood of extremes, and sho knew now that life had many intermediate colours between lamp-black and rose-pink, and that if the fisherman's wifo had hours of anxious watching, thab she had also many hours of rapburous love bhabcomessparingly boobhers —lovo bhat is the portion of those who come back from the very grave with the shadow of death on their faces. In the autumn Tris returned for a few days, but he was so busy thab he could nob leave the yachb. She was being provisioned and pub in order for the long Mediterranean winter voyage, and Tris was in constant demand. Bub John and Joan and Denas walked over to St. Clare to bid him good-bye; and never had Tris looked so handsome and so manly. His air of authority became him. In a fishing-boat men are equal, but on this lordly pleasureboat it was very different; Tris said to one man ' Go,' and to another one ' Come,' and they obeyed him with deference and alacrity. This masterful condition impressed Denas greatly. She thought of Tris with a respecb which promised far more than mere admiration lor his beauty or his picturesque dress. After Tris was gone away the winter came rapidly, bub Denas did not dread it. Neither did John nor Joan. John looked upon his boat as a veritable Godsend. What danger could come to him on a crafb so blessed? All her 'takes' were large and fortunate. The other boats thought ib lucky to sail in her wake. On whatever side bhe Darling Denas easb her baib they knew it was right to cast on that side Joan was Happy in her husband's happiness ; she was happy in her unstinted housekeeping; she was now particularly happy in Denas's school. The little lads and lasses brought all their news, all their joys and sorrows to Denas; and when Denas went home every day, Joan, wibh her knitting in her hands, was waiting to give her a tasty meal and to chat with her over all she had heard and all she had done. _ T , , And Denas was happy. W hen she mentally contrasted this busy, loving winter with the sorrows of the previous one, with the hunger and cold and poverty, the anguish of death and the loneliness, she could not bub ba grateful for the littlo home-harbour which her storm-tossed heart had found again. If she had a regret it was that she could not retain her hold upon her finished life. Every time she asked her heart after Roland memory gave her pictures in fainter and fainter colours. Roland was drifting farther and farther away, bhe could no longer weep ab his name. A gentle melancholy, a half-sacred remobeness invested the years in which ho had been the light ot her life. For— * When the lamp is shattered. The li£.ht in thu dust lies dead; When the cloud is scattered. The rainbow's glory is lied.' Mercifully youth has this marvellous elasticity. And the children filled all tho vacant places in her life. For as yeb she did nob think much, nor ab all decidedly, about Tris. If Roland was slipping away from memory, Tris by no means filled her heart. Yet she was , pleased whon Ann Trewillow's little maii Gillian told hot* one morning: •Master Arundel's yachb be come into harbour safe and sound. And.Captain Tris he be bravo and hearty, and busy all to geb ashore again. And my mother do say Mr Arundel he be going to marry a fine Jady, and greab' doings ab the Abbey, no doubt. And mother do say, too, thab Capbain Tris will be marrying you. And X was a brave bit frightened at thab news, and I up and answered mobher: 'It bean'b so. Miss Denas like bebter teaching us boys and girls." 1 said thab, and witbing it so with ali my hearb.' And Denas, seeing that the boys and girls were looking anxiously ab her for an assurance of this position, said positively : ' I am happier with you, children, than I could be with any ono else; and 1 do nob intend to marry at all.' ' Never ? Say never I' • Woll, then, never!' Yet there was a fainb longing in her hearb for love all her own. A man can love whab others love, bub a woman wants something or some one to love that is all her own. And she was interested enough in Tris's return to dress with more than usual care thab evening. She felb sura ho would come; and she pub on her besb black gown, and did nob brush the ripples out of her front hair, bat let the tiny tendrils soften the austere gravity of her face, and make tbab

slight shadow behind the ears which is so womanly and becoming. About seven o'clock she heard his footsteps on the shingle, and the gay whistle to which they timed themselves. Joan went to the door to welcome him. Denas stood up as he entered, and then, meeting his ardent gaze, trembled and flushed and sab down again. He sab down beside her. He bold her how much already he had heard of her gracious work in the village. He said it was worth going to France and Italy and Greece, only tb come back and see how much more lovely than all other women the Cornish women are. And by and by he took from his pocket tbe most exquisite kerchief of Maltese lace and a finely carved seb of corals. Denas would have been less bhan a woman had she nob been charmed wibh the beautiful objects. She leb Tris knob the lovely, silky lace around her throat, and she went bo her mirror and pub the carved coral comb among her fair abundant tresses and the rings in her ears and the necklace and the locket round her white, slender throat. Then Tris looked at her as if he had met a goddess in a wildernesß ; and Joan, with her hands against her sides, congratulated and praised herself for having given to St. Penfer by the sea a daughter 30 lovely and 80 good. ( To ie Continued. )