The Salt of the Earth.

Auckland Star, Volume XLIV, Issue 75, 29 March 1913, Page 20

The Salt of the Earth.

CHAPTER I. PANDORA WAITS. Outside a blackbird was piping madly in the blackthorn, aud towards the West a sheaf of flaming violet arrows streamed to the zenith. The hedgerows were touched here and there with tender green. The bonny breath of the South was soft and tender as the lingers ol Aphrodite. lt was the lirst real day of Spring, and most people lingered out of doors till the bare branches of the trees melted in the gloaming, and it was possible to sec and hear no more, save _ for the promise of the little black herald _. sinking madly from the blackthorn. *', Thus was it outside. Inside the silk "; blinds were clotscly drawn, and the heavy ~ tapestry curtains pulled across t'lem as .~ if the inmates of the room were envious I» of the dying day. and were determined ._! to exclude it. The score or more tiny points of electric tin mc were scrupu- ~ lously shaded with pale blue, so that • even the most dubious complexions •-- might not suffer. At certain places the «, lights were gTouped in lambent masses, I for they lighted the trio of Louis Qnat- ._'. orze card-tables, where twelve people "- -were playing bridge. Now aud again the tongues of yellow llanie picked outsome glittering object against the walls or on the lloor, hinting at art treasures, most of them with histories of their own. (In the whole, the restful room was more calculated for philosophic reflection than for fierce, silent gambling, with m- ; drawn breath and lip caught sharply between white teeth. '[lie room was • deadly still, save for the flutter of the cards as they rippled over the tables. Tliere were cards, too. upon the lloor, glistening under the light like bizarre patterns to the Oriental carpet. Only two men looked on--one a thin, nervous -. ascetic creature, with melancholy greyeyes and a Vandyck beard. The average man would have had no trouble in guessing that Philip Vanstone was an artust. lie had the temperament stamped upon him. both as to his features and his clothes. His companion was built in a larger mould, a cleanshaven man, with a hard, straight mouth, and the suggestion of a bull-dog about him. When one glanced at Douglas Donne-, oue ■instiiiciavrtly thought o; Rhodes and other pioneers of Umpire, win) had that marvellous combination ot miud, which allies high courage and imagination with the practical attributes that lead to fortune. To a certain extent Denne was a pioneer. He had amassed a huge fortune in foreign lands. He had played liis part in painting tlie map of the world a British red. and, incidentally he had found time during his Oxford career to win the Newdigate prize, and write a volume of poems which had attracted considerable attention. If he had described himself, and v. hy his career had been so phenomenaiiy successful, he would have spoken slightingly, and called himself a pawnbroker with an imagination. I'sually he thanked Pinero for " It saved a great deal of trouble when he found himself in the clutches oi the interviewers. And yet. despite his youth, and his health, and his fortune. In* was by no means a happy man. To begin with, lie wa.s cursed with a certain demon of introspective analysis. He was bound to bring everything under the microscope, including his own soul, and tlie -ou! of his fellow men. He refused to believe in the genuine disinterested action. He [nit it down to temperament. lt gave pleasure to the wide-minded man to do good and kind things; therefore, it could hot be accounted as righteousness—it was merely a selfish method of enjoyment. Everything that happened in lite. every mood and impulse of his „wn and of other people came un.l.-.;* Denne's mental scalping-knifc. so that, to him, tho beauty of the pearl was ii'*ver anything but the foetie -secretion of the oyster. Dennc would have given much t.. have been able to change places with Phil Vanstone, the penniless artist. He wasn't playing himself: in fact, he rarely touched a card. Playing for sovereigns wa.s poor sport to a man who had been moved to stake an Empire upon lhe throw of a dice. lie had come to Adela Barton's cottage at Maidenhead .purely to please his companion, but was iron* or less scornfully amused, because Adela Burton was one of the apostles of the Simple Life. Perhaps that w.t-j why -she wa.s playing ear.l,-* with a more or less notorious set of men and women, who had motored down from town that same morning, seeking '.he pure delights of the pink. March day. Denne watched the .-.mis Hashing aero- - the table, heed* ,'e-s of the play of emotions iv the rich . brown Rembrandt shadows. He was as ; near to enjoying himself now as ever 1 he had been ill his cyiiic.il life. Presently, by a. curious coincidence, th" ; three rubbers finished simultaneously. ; nii.l tin; players sa: back in t! • t.'lup- ; J.cuda'e chairs. It was characteristic of Adela Burton'- cottage, and. inculeii- -' Illy. of h. r-elf. that al! the furniture w.i- Chippendale, unless it happened to ; date back to the period of Louis Qtiator/e. "Are you going to play any more?" Denne asked. The hostc-s rose from her -eat. and rame round to the speaker's side. Shu was very simply and plainly dressed in homespun material with a suggestion ot heather blue in it, which, no doubt, was one of tlie not.*- in tin* melody of th» Simple Life. But it had cost sixty guineas in Paris all the same, as anvil 0111 in who studied the fashion papers •a on!,I have known at .*i glance. "I will play no noire till- evening." Allele s.i'd. gaily, "in fact. 1 wonder at mv temerity in playing at all to-day. lor before I -leep to-night the great secret will lie di-i'lo*. d. I),, y,,,., know tii.it before long I shall come" into my mysterious fortune';" Dcnne congratulated his hostess gravely, lie was -untying and criticisbut. outwardly, (here was little with which he could find fault. To begin with, there was no other woman of his e.ci|uaintanee who had gone through two rapid seasons in London without some sign that tiie bloom was off the peach, and tbe dew dry on the llower. Adela Jinrlon . complexion was as pure and "■" fresh now as when she lirst startled So-r-.i.-ty with her original methods and almost archaic extravagance. In some strange way she had retained all tne innocent look of youth, though there ■was wisdom and laughter in her unfathomable eyes, wbicn were like, green Jakes under budding chestnut trees in the calm of a still May evening. Such ■wonderful eyes they were, with all the

A Story of Love and Excitement BY FRED. M. WHITE.

I knowledge of the ages in them, and yet clear and innocent ••• those of a little I child. _Pr the rent, she was rather •small, though -she was not without a dominating something, which it was impossible to express in words, and ye' which could be felt like darkness. Two years before Adela Burton had hardly been heard of. >Jow she went everywhere until the time had come when she led fashion instead of following it. This is the rare attribute of the gods, and is given only to great Society ladies and inventive milliners. Probably Adela Burton had been the first to prasp the pi. ' urcsqueness and jioetical advertisements to be derived from the cult of the Simple Life. Her cottage at Maidenhead consisted merely of a hall, sitting-room, bedroom, and bath-room, together with a tiny kitchen, where she did for herself. The humble necessary charwoman came every morn* ing to scrub and scour, and, besides that. when si t. Maiden head Adela Burton livpd entirely alone. One had to look lo the graphic writers of Society papers adequately to describe the personality and menage oi" a woman like Adela Burton, for they were beyond the scope and mte]|<*.*t of the ordinary novelist. Possibly 110 living woman had contributed so much in the income of the paragraphists who make their living by describing the toilettes and eke the pots and pans of ladies of fashion. "1 am sure I congratulate you." Dcnne said, in his same grave way. "Let mc see, what is tbe amount of this fabulous fluruunc? One authority, 1 understand. puUs it at live millions." "1 haven't the exclusive knowledge ol these favoured journalists.'' Adela laughed. "Bui 1 shall deem Providence open to criticism if it is less than a million. Famous Samuel Burton could not leave his adopt*, daughter less than that. Now have you ever read of a more delightful romatrce outside the pager, of a halfpenny paper? Here am 1. taken from a humble sphere at a comparatively early age. and educated to the purple. I am not allowed to know what relation Mr. Burton is to mc. All 1 know is that I get certain remittances from a New York firm of lawyers, who always warn mc not lo ask unnecessary questions. F.ver since 1 was seventeen 1 have practically had as much money lis 1 have eared to ask for. Now the trust has expired, and Oy the mail which comes in to-day I am to learn all about it. Possibly lam to have the happiness of seeing my benefactor, and thanking him in person. 1 rather gather that he is coming here this cvenin-r, and that is why I am not to have the h-ippiness or winning any more of my friends' money. Now answer a question, Mr. Dcnne. Why do 1 always win nt bridge? lt makes not th" slightest difference to mc whether I lo:e or noi -—" "My dear young lady." Dcnne said in a monotonous voice, with all the expression squeezed out of it, "you have -answered your own question. And after that gentle hint you gave us just now, it is time Vanstone and myself were moving. May I be permitted again to offer you my sincere congratulations in advance?" Dennc and his companion stepped out through the crystal glass porch, heavy with the scent of tropical (lowers, and gay with pink and yellow orchids, into the sweetness of the air. The fanner drew a long, deep breath of relief. For the moment the poetic side of his nature was uppermost. "What a night!" he murmured. "How wholesome and pleasant after the heated atmosphere we have just u-ft! 1 declare that blackbird yonder is scolding us. Well, he certainly has tlie best of the argument. My dear fellow. 'Jdalian Aphrodite Beautiful' certainly has the popular approval. She would take the prize hands down in a Beauty Show, though, after all. Aurora has the daintier and more spiritual beauty of the two. Vanstone, tell mc candidly, why did you bring mc here?" Dcnne literally thrus*- the question nt his companion. There was a sudden and searching change in his manner. "IHi, I'll be candid." Vanstone laughed, a trifle awkwardly. "It is no use trying to deceive you. 1 know. I want you to do your best to save that woman from herself. She is young, beautiful, and capable of the most generous impulses, and yet, with a soul and mind and body like hers, she is frittering away life I .unongst those chattering magpies." "Making souftles instead of substantial soup." Dcnne laughed. "Oh my dear chap, you are quite wrong. What a travcisty i! all is! Here ion three-roomed cottage, urnishe. with the loot of a score of palaces, a sitting-room almost Ouidaesque in its luxuriance, a fivehundred pound freehold, with a couple of thousands spent on the electric light, a kitchen to cook porridge and poach eggs designed by an Eschoflier, and costing the income of an ambassador. Fancy the simple life in Pans frocks, and pap nerved up-inj-Oharles 11. prn-ringvrs! The whole thing appeals irresistibly to one's sense of humour. And don't forget that this enchantress is going to marry Mark Callador. Any woman who would stoop to marry L'allader is absolutely beyond mortal aid. Nothing but conversion to the Salvation Army would meet a case like this." "That is why I want you I _ interfere," Vanstone said, eagerly. "We all know what Callader is. He has the instincts of a Squire Western, anrl the mind of a pi. ilist. I am certain that man would knock a woman about, especially if she were his wife. He would be far happier tied lip to a fifth-rate variety artiste. Yon can help mc if you like, and I am going to make a personal favour of it. I am not a bit in love with the girl myself. Besides, she wouldn't look at mc if I were. But I honestly believe it you took Adela Burton away from her surroundings, she is capable of becoming a good woman. I know you believe iv nothing, but at any rate, I'll ask you to give mc lhe credit of good intentions." "I'll try." Dennc said. sardonically. "If there is one man I know more than another who is given to self-sacrifice, you are that foolish and slightly idiotic person. Still, yon might have asked mc to help an honest woman." Vanstone stared at his companion in astonishment. "I don't know what you mean," he .stammered. "I mean exactly what J say," Donne replied in matter-of-fact tones. "Your paragon amongst women plays bridge with people who can't afford to lose. The whole thing disgusts mc. Stare as you please; if you will come to a dinner party I am giving, 1 shall be able—but there—what does it matter? And yet perhaps "

CHAPTER IT. PANDORA SHOWS HER HAND. At last all the guests were gone, the frivolous silken rustles had died away, the m_>ot inane femininity had departed. Nt_hi-ng remained but aeuiitle eiug-gett-**tion of effete perfumes, and the acrid insinuation of tobacco smoke. The flowers were struggling now to come into their kingdom. A cluster of narcissus in »n old Ming bowl began to assert itself. With an impatient sigh Adolu pull'U back the curtains, and flung open I in* ■long French leading 'to the lawn. .She stood drinking in the fragrance of the evening. The breath of tin* Spring night touched licr cheek caressingly. The blackbird in retrospective znood was still whistling softly on U.perch. lt was practically dark, nnd .1 sense of desolation .swept over Adcl.i as she turned back into lhe room again. "What a fool 1 am!" she so|iloqui-/ed. "All the more so. because I am not devoid of inteUcet like most, of (.he people who have jnst left. 1 wonder wh.il they would say if tliey knew, if they realised that I have actually come lo the cr.<l of my tether, and have not a live pound note in the world to call my own. I wonder if this is (lie end of i! '.' I'er haps the funds are exhausted. f..r i is scarcely likely that those Amen.-ii people would have written ml mi.it in;! that it was useless to apply to th,*:ii for further money, nnd that, in future. Air. Hurton would ronnnuni.-ate with vie himself. It i-s p-rmsiblo th.it sunn* rii -'.< crank has been playing a joke upon mc? N«, that is hardly credible. I d*>n 1 I Inn;. thut-uuy man, however nvli. -mini t.*< ;> up a joke which, from ti:.l i . la-:. li.i.. *c-ast.__i a hundred thousand piuin-l I liave not long to wail. 1 -Mall noun .no.-. , my five." She stooped (,i gat-ncr up 'lie r.ir.lwhich ln_ on the lloor li'.e the giud.. parti-coloured leaves of nu Autumn tor est. and placed tlieni nie'..liodie_ll\ .iwjy. She emptied the :i.--h tray-, and >iirinkli-.l the sitting-room wilh Samlas, so that the Ilow-ers in the I'riiius jars began t>> pick np their head"*, and the v, hue it niospliere became sweeter. Ii »„.* -•' dark that the purpn- shadows beyond ; lie I'Yenrli windows were almost men... ii : With a shiver of apprehension. \Jeli closed |Jie shutters an.l pulled down Hi', blind -again. It sc.-m.-l 1., li.*r f.iu.y tliul she heard a footstep on lue gran-:. With a smile at her eo-wariii.-c **'i i.v!

the fear from her. As she stood wailing vaguely for something to happen. ;l*> on.* I does in moments of nervous ten-ion. -'■< ' imagined she could hear the bathroom window raised gently and < l.xH ag.im It came upon her with overpower,il-' force that it •»•_ ha l ! a m.l,- ... t ,-* nearest iiou.se. that in- was alone. :n.i that there wa.s booty r_im.ii ii.-r. t keep a score of burglar- in alllucli.-e l.tr tbe test, of their natural Inc.. Instinc lively she walked across th,- ro.i.n *~ where lhe telephone r.-r-el \ c' hull*.' -.1bad her hand upon i; when «..ni.*l.niig touched her arm. All her comhatne in stincts wer- awake. She wa , rea.lv i,*r real palpitating dan.er. ll w-i- nn'*. tinintangible that frightened hrr. 11.-r , ..■■ gleamed with anger. "What arc you doing her.*-'' .lie ,:. manded. The intruder made n.> reply lor .1 '11 1 ment. He pressed his hauls to In. _■_,-. The panting of his breath GUmI v; , ;1, •sik-m-r of the room. il.- :n:g.r h_\. boon some fugitive seeking _i:ii*lu_r_ Burl for the moment V-> |imt_i fa led 1 in, and he staggered to hi- fa!l. Tl-.-ri* ..... time for Adela to gaze at him ir.mi under her long purple !ash.*-. Sti,. ~, ,| it in her to study h 111 caimiv at: I <■•;•■ cully. Kvidcntly this was no creature t>. ;»* afraid of. In age he was about six:-., with a mass of white hair, an I a gr.'v moustache that drooped over Ihe corner of his lips. His face v,,is hand---Jim' 'i its way. though seared and lined. llgave an apprehensive glance over 1 - shoulder which told M- own tile. 1- ,: the rest, he might have ben a hmk. 11 down derelict cast olf from some i_v_lrv regiment. He certainly had the air ~ a man who had seen service a man ,\n.i would be at home amongst reii**,,\| -n* roundings. His eyes were blue, ._i.li eyes, that told of cunning and wick*- Iness. eyes that spoilt whai otherwise j might have been a benevolent lace. li-- ;

was dressed wilh some attempt at ulnar liess. though his grey frock -coal it.i faded and discoloured, his patent lealhf boots were down at heel. Adda kn.* the type. Doubtless this hid been a ma of clubs in his time, a man to who; the topography of the West Kn I vv.*- .1 an open book. Beyond question, this man had com to beg and whine, to plead some pititi tale, more or less true, and in her 11 dolent way Adela was already feeling i her pocket. A deal of promiscnous chat ity has its origin in indolence rathe than gcnen_ity. The man seemed t realise what was passing through th girl's mind, for he raised his hand on testingly. It was a long, slim hand, au Adela saw that the nails were pink an filbert-shaped. She saw. too. what pit; zled, and at the same time alarmed h.i The hard, sly cunning nad died from th intruder's blue eye.. Hi* whole face In, changed its expression to one ot dce-ir-s interest and almost filial .ilfprl'ioii Adela would have found it hard to . . press her feelings at that moment. Dis appointment and fear and horror wer uppermost. "What are you doing here?" she re peated. "They followed mc," the man gaspcl as a curious dry. bard cough scenic.| t choke him. "They nearly had mc on, side the station. I -was an accurse. fool to come back again. | might liny known that 1 was not forgotten. I her are n score of men in England to-day wh. wouJd go a long way to put a spoke 11 the 'Colonel's' wheel. And now. mv tleai how are you? Ha! There is no neei to ask that question. If ever I saw any one with the true air n/bout her, yon an she, ruining it with the very lie.to them too. Oh, bless you. I "have rea, nil about it. in the papers. I_ugh! well I should think so. But. y-ou se. " A tit of coughing choked the speaker': utterance again. He pressed a ding*, handkerchief to his lips, and Adela. sa.'i a faint smear of red upon il. She wt_ standing opposite the speaker, breatlnn: quickly and rapidly herself, nnd uuabli to overcome a feeling of evil. "Once more, what do you wanl?" sh> demanded. "From what you say, yot are flying from justice." "That is so." the man replied, coolly ''I thought you would enjoy the joke and so you will when you have heard it How like your mother you are, to b( sure!" Like her mother! The words .-eetne. to be tangled and twisted in Adela': brain, just as a physical pain st-.rts a' the touch of a raw and bleeding nerve Had this degraded wretch known het mother, the mother she del n .-; ren-.em ber herself, whom she naturally though! ' of as someone exalted and beautiful' Yet he spoke of her as though they Inn been on the most familiar term-. "Did you know her, then?" "Know her! I fancy I di 1. Why 1, there w-asn"t a man or boy in New York

twenty year* ago who was not familiar with the name of Sophie Letoile. Hut people are soou forgotten in these days. Ah. there was a woman for you! Haiid- ' some? Handsome, not the word. Daring and ambitious, too. What a queen she would have made! T ought to have married her myself. 1 should have, been ' ! iti a very dill'crpnt position now if 1 I had. But she never cared for anybody 1 but poor .lake, who was a feeble sort of creature at the best. All, my dear, it lis not from your father's siilp that you ! inherit your brilliant qualities." I ".lake!" Adela repeated the word _ I again and again. It. w.ns isuggciitive of j sump handsome, degenerate bar-loal.r — J the type of man wiio olten attracts th" ! admiration of a dashing and clever ivii- ' i man. And yet there was something al* I mn-l amusing in the suggestion. That ■man could nut be Adela. father. It ' I was incredible Unit she had had her ' j being in some gorgeous butterfly known lln snail (is Sophie Lctoilo. j Oil, no, '; sureli sin* had a clean and more refined ■ancestry than that. Adela had assumed -o niu.-h from l'ic lir;(. She h.:,l known no cure, no spoilt darling in Society to- | Jdnv occupied a better position than' she. | .The whole thing was a mistake. This man had come to the ivron. house; lie ! had taken her for soon* |,c. She] mn-l [nil him right in once. ] "Slop:'' she said. "There- i< sonip* | thing wrong ~ere. Do yon know who: I am"" | \n absurd, almost seniie affection I gleajneil ;*i her visitor*! evc-t. "Yon an* Adela liurton. the adopted. d.iU-hicr of the celebrated Sam liurton,] the \iiiciican millionaire. It is a.loumli i I ins: what the liriti-h public will swallow] :' yi.ll only go the right way about it. 1 I Id **:. down and laugh when I ; -.-.- ,'.,. ii in the lap of luxury, -.villi your j po.t.-ail in all the papers, a:: I ever si; many I'eers at lour iect. What would j th.v sa.\ i, they knew the truth? lhe paragraphs about you •! ha-..* read, '.i-tps and heaps ~;" t : .n' The gorgeous : t -ings liny have stud alio it Sam liurton! . And all lhe while llwrc li.i-n t been any Sam Burton at nil. At lea.*.;, not in : the sens.* that pi-op l ** suppose My dear i .'irl. , hope, for your sake, that you are j an admirer of Pickens' works.' j "I lime a great liking for most ot "l:i-"i you will remember 'Great Kx-p.-.-til ions" Do you rit_.ll lip aud h .- wonderful fortune?" j .N.1.1.i nodded. It was coming to her, in n*l with Illuminating flashc. She re- I .oil-.ted ilo- -lory of lip and In.-, piia.-i j t.i:il fortune, that memorable -cc:io whet: Pip's fairy rod father appeared in the .h.ipe of th.* desperate hunted In..ken down .-.m-.i.t. whom I he lad had h.-lped _i man*, .cars before in the old ,-huri hyard on tin* mar-dies. And as this |,i.*turr '...an to stand oat warm ami Miig'.hli. a dreadful fear gripped Adebi !.*. her win;.* throat. and licl.l her -| -ill* •-. 1 i.*- i:..iii «a« inuui'.i'ing. but a horrible gnu overspread In.- features. Don't .1011 -.'.- tiie analogy':" tie 1 -aid. "Pip" helped the conn '.. 'mid 111 after yea is i..- ..I I man helped him. ] There I.ls .1 time ivhen you lir'ped mc. ' > ~11 -en* only a liny tat. un.l probably ihe incident ha- tided from lour raiml. Ilu! ~,.ir pluck and courage got mc nut • 1 a I .lit pla.-i-. and I've never forgotten 1 I was always a sentimentalist .it l.eiri. Besides, *, ou were fond of rne then I f.i 11 • \ 1 can feel tbo.-e kisses of \ ,>ur ..11 my lipi now!" I'lie power .if speech returned t".. \.|il.i in an uncontrollable torrpnt. A thousand questions trembled on her lips, but -'•.* kept herself in with an effort. The iitmo.-pherc had grown suddenly ~ ~ • r She felt cold, an I shivered from ha 1 to foot. "> oil had better tell mr who you '-.-. yon haven. gups,cd' Do you .•11c in 1" tell mc you are in the dark '. :i ' Then let mc introduce myself. 1 .1".. tie* fun,in- millionaire, the only and ,*r:j.nal S.im liurton. (To be continued on Saturday next.)