COMPLETE TALES.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXIV, Issue 2, 2 January 1903, Page 2

COMPLETE TALES.

Up at the J they gave a ball each year. It ie a well-arranged ball —-band, supper, floor above reproach, and scores of guests attend it from the outside, which means beyond the high stone walls. Some come from simple lore of dancing, and because this dance is a novelty; some from curiosity, and many from a genuine desire to bring a little pleasure into, the broken lives of the guests who live inside. None of these motives were Henry Henderson's. He did not care for dancing, and he had what he had been accustomed to regard as an unconquerable horror of the demented. Miss Windermere, on the contrary, was extremely interested in them—-and Henry. Which, without any reflection on his mental capacities, explains his presence there that night.

There is an Eastern proverb which says, that when love enters a heart there is folly therein, and nothing else. But that is ft hard saying. Miss Windermere was a pretty girl of an ordinary type, but in Henderson's eyes she was a very little lower than the angels. Love is like the measles, the later in life you take it the harder it goes with you. It had gone so hard with Henderson that he found it quite easy to conquer his unconquerable aversion to lunatics. He was over thirty when he met Miss Windermere, and had hitherto avoided women's society. He also shared Artenras Ward's opinion concerning affinities, "This affinity beesness of yours is cussed noncence, besides being outrajusly wicked." Afterwards there was no more enthusiastic believer, and he never rested until Miss Windermere was also converted. In appearance Henderson was small, slight, and rather sandy.

He did not expect to enjoy the dance, and his expectations were realised. The floor and the music were good as usual, and everyone seemed keen on dancirig. But to Henderson s eye there was too little difference between the sane and the insane. He knew he would find himself being obsequiously • agreeable to a . sane lady, and just ordinarily polite to an insane one, and he shrank from the result in either case. Here and there a lady or gentleman danced alone, or showed some eccentricity of dress or manner, but, as a whole, the crowd was bewilderingly usual Owing to this Henderson refused to dance with any but nis own friends. It then became apparent that he considered himself to have but one friend in the ballroom, and her name was Windermere. This was a flattering' view, but, of course, she could not dance all the evening with him. So he stood about doors a good .deal, and kjept ..an anxious eye on her when she danced wift men who were strangers'to him. Being a nice girl, her conscience pricked her for imposing upon him. such penance as the evening appeared to be. She introduced him in desperation to a tall, broad-shouldered man, the head of the asylum etaff. Henderson had been privately watching , him as the most forbidding lunatic of them all, and was correspondingly relieved. From the conversation which followed he gathered many interesting facts. Everyone, said the expert, was more or less mad on some point. The human brain might be compared to a piano. A note very slightly out of tune would hardly be noticed except by experts. A discordant note in the distant treble or bass, rarely touched by life the player, mattered little. The man was eccentric on some point. Those who were unlucky enough to have a very wrong note the more used part were sent to an asylum, for their eccentricity then became a menace to others.

Again, many people were perfectly sane except on one point. "For instance," said the doctor, "that tall young lady dancing , so gracefully was only insane if you spoke of buttons. Then she became almost violent. The fair man sitting , watching the dancers was possessed with the idea that people threw things at him. But if in conversation you kept him off this subject, he was an entertaining companion. Here was a sad case, a man who had been a distinguished scholar, but who had now a mania for childish games; he had become such a nuisance to his people they had sent him to be taken care of. Of course a sudden shock might Ihrow them off their 'balance at any time, tut shocks were guarded against in an asylum, and the dangerous cases were carefully watched." This was in answer to a nervous question from Henderson. By and bye the doctor was called away, and he was again left to his own resources. An elderly lady informed him she was Helen of Troy, and he escaped from her society into the verandah. Here he consulted his programme, and found four dances intervened before the one marked V. W. There would be time, he decided, for a smoke and a stroll in the grounds.

The grounds round the asylum were lighted,, and looked like a glimpse of fairyland. Bed, yellow, pink and blue lamps festooned the shrubs and trees, shining like jewels against the dark foliage. Henderson, smoking contentedly, strolled from point to point admiring the effects. The ground , dipped slightly and rolled slowly upwards again, and at last he looked back across 100 yards or so to the asylum itself. The lower part of the big building was brilliantly lighted, and made a fitting background to the fairy lights on the trees. The band was playing a waltz—"My Life for Thee"—and its haunting notes floated out through the open windows. Henderson hummed the words of the song to himself as he listened.

A rustling sound broke in on hie musings. He glanced round, lrat there was no one in sight, such sight at the night permitted. Hβ was preparing to move on when a stealthy voice inquired if he were ready. This time his ears located the sound. He •va» standing near a jpne, ajlmQgt. he-

neatb one of its low, spreading branches. Lying along the stem of this was a man. With, a leap of the heart Henderson realised no sane person -would take up such a position. At the same moment the man dropped from his perch with a quick, catlike movement, and walked up to him. Six-foot two looked down on a startled sft 6.

"I -was a jaguar up there," explained the man afiably, "and at first I thought I would descend on your head and r—r—-rend yon -with my clawe. Did I look the character?" "To the life," said Henry, who had never seen a jaguar, and never wished to. But the sailor's principle: "I never disputes with a shark," was his also with lunatics. ' *& "The other way is longer," continued the man, "but infinitely sweeter. Linked sweetness long drawn out, in fact."

"Indeed," said Henderson, faintly. It is horrible to feel afraid. For the first time in a sufficiently rough life he was experiencing a dreadful feeling of abject panic His horror of the insane seemed to have been a prophetic one pointing to this end. And what was meant by the other way being longer? Cold perspiration stood out on his forehead. Then a saving recollection crossed his mind, and Henderson was himself again. Probably the panic had lasted forty seconds, but he was now hot with shame of it. And this was the recollection—if this man was violent he must be kept away from the ballroom. A scene, a loud outcry, and it mighty be turned into a pandemonium. This was his reading of the doctor's words. And he shuddered as he pictured it. But was this a dangerous lunatic? He seemed quiet enough, and, indeed, only his remarks betrayed insanity. His voice was pleasant, and he had an intellectual, clean-shaven face. The lamps, though distant, threw light enough to show that, as he faced them. A glance at his tall, sinewy figure dispelled any hopes of suddenly overpowering him. Henderson gazed at him in an agony of indecision.

"Well?" said the man, impatiently

"Well," repeated Henderson, have a cigar."

"Eγ—

It was a heaven-sent inspiration, for in Henderson's eyes nothing could be more soothing than a cigar." "Afterwards, my dear sir," said the lunatic. "Speaking strictly for myself, it will be.mdre enjoyable afterwards. Are you ready?" t "I am ready for any thing," said Henderson, sturdily, and he was.

The lunatic looked at him, laughed, and sprang straight at him. But before the long, lean hand could touch him Henderson was running like a hare away from the asylum and a chance of life. His hopes were centred on tiring the lunatic out, hiding from him, aided by the friendly darkness, or out-running him. Once in the grip of those sinewy fingers he was powerless. He had a runner in his day, but never had ac sprinted to breast the tape as- he did now for dear life.

The first breathless flight ended in a rapid dodge behind a large bush, through which he faced his pursuer. The lunatic appeared to consider a moment, then he bent to half his height and began an elaborate stalk round it. In the half-light thie manoeuvre was plain to Henderson, and easily countered. They circled in this fashion round the bush until the stealthy silence of the hunt got on Ms nerves, and he broke away across the open and took refuge behind another cluster of shrubs, only to be ousted from it.

This was the beginning of a ghastly game of hide-and-seek with the hiding part left out. And one ot the players played it for his life. Again and again Henderson tried to get away into the darkness beyond the outer line of lamps. The cunning of the madman frustrated him at every point. There seemed to be a method in the madness of the hunter. He was headed back when he attempted to break away, outpaced in a straight run, and driven from bush to bush and forced further into the lighted ground, and closer to the asylum. Sweat poured from his face as he dodged and doubled beneath the gaily-coloured lamps, cursing them as he ran. Twice a desperate turn just saved him, and he could have screamed like a hare when the dog's teeth snap close behind him.

It is easier to imagine "than describe his feelings. Though he exerted himself to his topmost speed he could not shake off his silent pursuer. The waltz music still sounded from the ballroom; Miss Windermere was probably dancing to it. In a few minutes, if it lasted so long, he would be dying to it. At least he would hear it if his sense of hearing were left as the life was choked or battered out of him. And it was bitter to think she would not know why. But he held on to his first resolve. If he died it would be silently and alone.

The end came very suddenly. The lunatic stumbled and Henderson gained a little on him/and then with a desperate spurt gained more. Racing with catching breath across the open space he caught his foot in a root and fell heavily. Too stunned and exhausted to move, he lay still, dumbly waiting. He heard an exultant laugh as his pursuer stopped beside him. A hand struck him sharply on the shoulder. "Tug!" said a triumphant voice, and the lunatic fled on to hide in the darkness. Very sick and giddy Henderson struggled to his feet, and cursed asylums and their inmates root and branch.— "A.M.H.," in 'Tastoralists' Review."

V' «»JWM»e. J

FOR WHICH THERE IS NO VICTORIA CROSS