A HERITAGE OF HATE

Auckland Star, Volume XLI, Issue 38, 14 February 1910, Page 8

A HERITAGE OF HATE

BY CHARLES GARVICE. Author of "Tho Marquis," "Lame," ""A Modern Juliet," "By Devious Ways,** efts.

.CHAPTER XV. Let us return to the island. For a day or two after that on which fchey discovered the gold, Rath scarcely saw Stella. It seemed to him that she avoided him; for when they caught sight of each other at a distance, she merely waved her hand, or called back in answer to his greeting, " Good-morning," or '" Good-evening; I am very busy," and disappeared. He came to the conclusion that he had offended her in some way; perhaps in not making enough fu-ss over the useless gold; but, though he missed her much more' than he knew, he did not go in search of her or approach the hut. He was very busy just at this time, for the autumn was drawing nigh, and he was preparing for the winter which would follow in its wake. The corn was ripe, and he had to cut the little patch and garner it until he should have time to thresh it; and there were the potatoes to dig, and the honey to gather; hut, busy as he was, he would stop suddenly in the middle of the toil, which would have daunted an ordinary labourer, straighten his back, and sigh, as he looked round in the hope that she might be near. He scarcely knew why he missed her, did not 'realise that her presence had lightened his toil and sweetened his hitherto solitary existence; but at night he went home to his nest in the hollow tree, feeling strangely lonely and melancholy. On 'both evenings he climbed up to the north cliff and looked seaward, in the hope—or was it the dread? — oi sighting a vessel *, but no sail broke the vacancy of the opal sea. Stella was not offended. If she had been asked, she would have found it difficult to tell why she kept away from him. Her up-bringing hod been almost as -solitary as his own, and her innocence matched his. She was not offended; but a strange shyness, of which she was only half conscious, had fallen upon her. It. had smitten her as she lay in his amis, across his breast, when he oa-r----rk'd her along the beach. For the first time, as her head rested on his broad shoulder, and she could feel his breath on her cheek and stirring her hair, she had felt afraid of him. And yet it was not fear in the ordinary sense of the word; for fear is a painful emotion, and there was no pain, but a subtle joy and peace in her heart: the blush which covered her face, which made her turn it from him a.s she walked away, was not caused by fear. She wanted to forget that he had carried her in hi* arms —to remember that she was "just a boy:" but the memory clung to her, sleeping and waking, and annoyed her: so that at times she was almost angry with him for having done sO. The heart of r-very woman is a mystery: how much greater the heart of a ■.-ourig girl as innoocut and unsophisticated as Stella ? But she missed Rath more than he missed her. Her daily tasks wore lighter and less numerous; ihcv weir siwin done, and then time—the lime which always passed &o quickly when .she was with him —hung heavily on her hands. And she could not make a companion of her mother; for the elder woman's apathetic condition had increased, and she seemed content to lie back in the arm-chair in the hut, ot just outside the door, her hands folded in her lap. her eyes fixed dreamily and moodily on vacancy, or closed, a.s i,f in sleep. While Stella hod grown in strcnsTth as well as in beauty since their arrival in the island, her mother had wasted and lx-come weaker. Stella waited on her lovingly and watched her an-ciously. and now and again strove to arouse her to snm-0 interest in the life which Slella found so delightful; but wit-bout success. Beyond a little needle-work, she did notliing—indeed there wan no need— and she could not. be induced to wallmore than a few yards from the but. "Let mc be, Stella," s-he said, when Stella begged her to accompany her to the .beach, the woods, the lowest of the cliffs, walks which she herself delighted in. "Let mc be. I am, if not content, resigned! and 1 am too weak to walk." She grew thinner and paler each day, and the eye of experience -would have seen in her countenance -signs which boded ill; but Stella was not experienced, and had no forebodings. To pass away the time, while she kept away from Roth, Stella was driven to the books on the shelf in the hut. I say driven, because she was not at any time very ifond of reading; and on this fairy isle, with its clear, bracing air and sunny skies, one did not hanker after books as one longs for thorn, and depends upon them, in this fog-girt isle of Britain. The whole place was one open book to her, and with -Rath by her side to point out and explain, she had found it delightful reading; but now she turned to the printed volumes and pored over them •by the hour togetlier, until she would fling them from her with a yawn, and — wonder what Rath was doing, and whether he missed her. On the afternoon of the third day she saw Rath in the distance, striding towards the interior -with liis axe in his hand, and knew that lie was fell trees for firewood. She saw A"im stop and look 'back towards the hut, and once be saw her and waved his hand; she waved hers in response, and then, thinking he would not .be back for some time, took the volume of essays she w*as reading into the shadow erf the pines, and curling herself upon a bed of fragrant pine "needles," tried to read; but the book did not hold her long; her mind wa-ndered after Rath. She could see him swinging the shining axe, hear the sharp thud as it struck the tree, sec his tall, graceful figure as he leant back for another snving and cut. How strong he -was! Were all men so strong, she wondered. He had lifted and carried her as if she had been a 'feather, and bis arms had encircled her as if they were steel 'bands. There it was apain! She could not forgot it! With an impatient mono she opened the book again, and with a frown forced her attention to it; but presently her quick ears caught the sound of footsteps— Rath's —and for a moment she felt for the first time a strange desire to rise and fly from him. But it was too late; for •he had seen her, and with an involuntary exclamation he quickened his pace and stood 'beside her. She looked up with a beautiful start and ejaculation of surprise. "Oh! is that you? How you startled mc!" she said. "Did I?" he said, innocently. "I should have thought you would have heard my footsteps; I should know yours the moment I heard them." "I thought you were ratting trees," she said, rather severely.

"So I was," he said; "but I have broken the handle of my axe." He dropped the broken tool at her feet, and sat down beside ber with the dbtuseness and self-unconsciousness of the man. "Where have you been for the Last two days, Stella?" She yawned indirTeo-ently as he replied, with fine sarcasm: "On this island." "Yes, I know," he said, with his usual seriousness; "but why haven't you come to help mc as you used to do?" "I've been busy," she said, absently, and apparently extremely interested in her book. "Busy about — _ho_t the hut. I don't suppose you've missed—wanted' mc." "Yes. I have," he replied. 'Tve missed you very much." "Oh. thanks. I didn't know I was of so much use to you." "It isn't that," he remarked, with appalling candour. "It isn't that'you help mc so much; but I miss you somehow. I don't know why. I never felt lonely, or to want anyone with mc, until you came." She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and closed the book over her thumb. "But I daresay I should have got used to being alone again if I had not had you with mc for another day or two." She opened the book suddenly, and became absorbed in it again. "Perhaps it would be just as well if I did get used to it," he went on, musingly; "then I sha'n't miss you so much when you go." "I'm not gone yet, and I don't see much chance of going," she remarked, without looking up. "No," he assented, gravely. "Not until the Indians come. I might arrange with tbem to send someone for you." There was silence for a moment, as be began to cut the broken handle from tlie head of the axe, for Rath was seldom idle; then he said, meditative!y: "I thought you might be offended about something." "Offended? Oh, dear, no! What at?" "I don't know. Perhaps because I didn't attach so much importance tr, your discovery of the gold; or because I carried you the other day. I suppose no one likes being carried against their will, though you seemed unable to walk." "Did you carry mc?" she said, lifting her brows until they almost joined the hair on her forehead. "Ah, yes; I remember. Oh, no, I'm not at all offended. Though 1 hope you won't do i.t again. I hate being carried." "So you said." he remarked, placidly. "No, I won't do it a_;ain. Where are you goimr?" for Stella had risen. "Into the wood for a stroll." "Better not." he said, casually. "I saw a panther just now. Just my luck; I'd left my gun behind." She was back be.side him. her hands on his shoulders, like a flash of lightning. % "A—a panther? Oh, Rath!" And she shivered as she reflected that she might have met that panther any moment during the las; .wo days— alone, and without Rath to protect hnr. "Yes; he has come after the calves, I suppose I'll track him to-morrow. You need not be frightened; he won't come here," he added, with his short laugh. She snatched her hand from his shoulder, and flung herself down again —but farther from him. "I was not frightened—that is, not much," she said, with injured dignity, as she opened the book again and read it—upside down. "What is that—the book?" he asked, after a pause, and intent upon his axe "Essays—Emerson's," she said. "Dry old things. Do you like them? Oh, 1 forgot you couldn't read. Rath." "No," he said, cheerfully. She looked at him curiously, her chin in her hand. "IXm't you sometimes wish you could read, Ratii?" He shrugged his shoulders. "No; I don't think so. My father said that most of the trouble in the world came of reading and writing." "1 wonder whether he was right?" she murmured, dreamily. "Everything he said was right," he said, calmly. "Not everything," rejoined Stella. "For instance, he—he said that women were dangerous, and you know now that that wasn't right." He was silent over this poser. "But wouldn't yon like to read Rath?" He thought for a moment. "Y-es. Perhaps in the winter, when there is not so much to do, it would pass the time; not that I have much time." She drew herself a little nearer to him. "if you Like, I'll teach you," she said, with a fine air of indifference. "I'll teach you to read and write—that is, I'll try; and if you don't like it, why, you needn't go on. You are not obliged to do either if you don't care about •it." "Well, perhaps it's just as well to know how," said this gentlemanly savage, "though my father said that all that was worth knowing in the island could be learned without books." "Yes, on the island, perhaps; but if you left it " He shook his head. "1 shall never leave it," he said. ,7 You don't know; but never mind. See here; I must begin by teaching you your letters—" He glanced at the sun. "I haven't much time. Will it take long?" "It all depends on whether you are stupid or not," she said, rather piqued. "T expect I shall be stupid," he said, gravely; but he drew up closer to her, so that he could look over the book on her lap, and the lesson commenced In a few minutes they were both interested. Stella forgot her shyness, the reserve of the last two days melted like snow in summer, and soon she was leaning back, her eyes sparkling, her laughter rippling like music over his blunders. "You stupid! That isn't B; that's a D. I've shown you the difference twenty times." "I'm sorry," he said, gravely and humbly. "I told you I should be stupid. I'm not so quick to learn as you are" She was tender self-reproach in a moment. "Tin not quick, Rath." "Oh, yes, you are," he said, «m_den_y. "Think of all the things yon have i learnt since you have been on the island.

Are all hoys so quick? I don't think 1 -ocas when my father taught mc. But never mind; let mc try again-" After all, he was quicker than she thought. He soon began to distinguish between the forms of the letters and their different sounds. His interest was awabei_ed, and, to his surprise, he felt quite keen about the thing. In her eagerness to teach him, SteHa forgot her shyness and restraint of the last two days, and talked and laughed at him with all her old ease and freedom; and the small cloud which had hovered between them was dispelled by her innocent laughter. (To be continued daily.)