ADAM

Auckland Star, Volume XLVII, Issue 70, 22 March 1916, Page 10

ADAM

By PAUL TRENT

'Author of "The Vow," "The Foundling," "Haw Logan," eta, eta

CHAPTER V. s It was* ten o'clock before Sir James c saw Adam, and then it was only for a S few minutes. "I waited dinner for you," he said, t with a suggestion of reproach. ' I wasn't hungry. I've been lying S down by the stream—thinking, and now s jiiv head aches/ Adam answered, with an effort. _ Mis eyes were dull and his manner so listless that when lie expressed his in- , tentiou of going to bed Sir James made no attempt to detain him. After all, it ■ would be better than he should have n time to assimilate all that he had learnt. ~ The following day the servants arrived from Loudon and took possesriion jf the Retreat. Adam only appeared at tl meal times, and, altihouffh he looked enriouslv at tbe butler who waited on a.them at dinner, be .lid not refer to the m presence of tbe strangers. When coffee w had been servtJ. Sir James informed I him that the funeral was to take place t the following morning. P "Of course, you will attend, ho ti • m *Mf it'ia necessary:' Adam angered, J lie your first introduction to a the wo 1 I npeet you will feci rather t. nervous but I shall be close to you. w Afterwards we shall come back to the tl Retroat-mv daughter will join us at j should know t, Set yourself. You will find her quite , Apathetic, and 1 hope you will look „ ;SSJ her as a friend. . .. \«i clout _£m very interested," Sir James added, abruptly. ~ ; "1 don't understand myself ... 1'" not very happy. Everything is so J &t ™you "will soon get used to the new _ order of things. By the bye, happen v to have some new clothe, that T«-never c worn J'in vcrv nearly as tall as >ou a are To-morrow you x_ill require a ~ black suit. I'll send one to your room. y I "Black"? 1 don't like the colour. r i -It is customary, when attending a b | funeral. It is just as well that yom■«• t ttrior should give no occasion for coin „ Iment- I anticipate there will be quite ~ sufficient talk about you. f. -I'm in your hands. . . Do you jmindif lgotobedV' P "Good-night. m\ Doy. • • ment. Please believe that I sympathise , « with you. 1 can see that you are very | v 'troubled. Don't hesitate to come to mo a "about anything." •-'_.. S: ••I find a difficulty in expressing ">)- a self. Good-night." . i l Mono. Sir .lames sighed, and took up |a book, but found it difficult to concent tratc his mind. His thoughts were ol \dam, and he wondered if it werfc wise J to allow him to attend the funeral. There was the possibility that he mig.it _ not behave conventionally, and, doubt- v less, from curiosity, a great number of j y people would be present. _ \ \dam appeared at breakfast wearing : the clothes vMiii-h Sir James had caused 1 to be sent to his room. J "Would you like to ask any questions I before we "start?" Sir James asked. 1 ••No 1 realise that 1 must leave my- r self in your hands. ... 1 feel stupid 1 this morning. I didn't sleep and my a bead is painful." . * \t eleven o'clock the hearse arrived, 1 and the coffin was removed from thj J house. Sir James and his charge fo.- i lowed in the car. and when they passed a through the gates of the Retreat, Adam stood up and lookd round. His eyes \ were misty and his lips tremulous. « "I understand," Sir James said, and : his voice was deep with sympathy ••1 don't want to go. stop! Adam ' cried, and his voice was not quite S <Vjames called to the chauffeur, and c then turned to Adam: •'What's the matter?" • .. , 1 "I don't quite know. This thing whxcii is taking us along " , "The car?" "Yes—and everything else. Give mc • time to face it." "Poor old chap ... I understand. I'll take you back, and go on alone. But before the car was turned Adams expression had changed, his mouth had ■become firm, and his eyc3 were Bteady. | "Pll go with you." | 'H'cry well—you look pale. . . EveryII thin" mush be so very strange. Do you think you have the strength to face a crowd of people?" "Yes. I'm all right, now." Adam I answered, with quiet confidence. I As they drove along in silence, Sir I James continually glanced at his charge, j wondering as to" tbe nature of his thoughts. Soon they passed two country women, hut Adam did not appear to notice them, for his eyes were fixed ahead. Even when they drove I slowly through the village his attention did not wander. Amber "was standing at an upper window of the inn —•her father noticed her, but made no remark. There was quite a crowd at the cemetery, and the curiosity felt about Adam was made very evident. But, to "their I disappointment, there was nothing in his appearance to distinguish him from any ordinary person, and there was a very general conclusion that a great mystery had been made about nothing !at all. Sir James kept a close eye on Adam, and when at last the simple ceremony was over, he breathed a quick sigh of relief. Once more in the car, he ordered the chauffeur to drive back to the Retreat; and the quick motion through the air drove away the depression of which he had become acutely conscious. | "It lias been a sad introduction to the world," he remarked. "Not to mc. I do not sec any sadness in death," Adam answered deliberately. J "Then you are not afraid to die ?" "No —why should I be? I have not " found such great joy in living—and now " he broke off abruptly. "Arid now?" Sir-James said, gently. I'm miaerahle. My brain whirls. " I'm struggling to understand. Everything seems so useless. In mathematics there was always a reason for everything, while in life " "You're suffering from shock. • Try not to think. Rest your brain for a few days, and then we'll try together to solve some of the problems of life." "And of death/ Adam added,, in a low voice; and did not speak again until they readied the Eetreat Upon alighting from the car, he drew in a deep breath, bob -when Alpin opened fch© door in aacwet to their ring, he-did pot at once, gft in. His lips cyled in a

smile when he heard Sir James tell tbe chauffeur to put up the car in the stables. "Am I to srtay here?" the driver asked, and showed signs of disapproval when the answer was in the affirmative. Adam looked back in the direction of Sclverton while Sir James walked along slowly. "Alpin is waiting to close the. door," the latter called. After a pause of a few seconds, Adam shrugged his shoulders, and followed quickly, but he stopped when the door closed with a clang; then he laughed harshly, and came striding along. " My world," he said, with a wave of the arm. '• I'm not sure that you haven't had the best of it," Sir James said dryly. "If I could only have remained asleep. But now I'm wide awake —longing to come to grips with everything— with everything. This world of yours, I've been thinking of it till I'm mad with thinking. What is it? Is it a kindly place, or is it a place of suffering? Until you came here 1 did not lTnow the meaning of* pain. 1 believe I was happy. When 1 wished to eat —there was always plenty. 1 slept and 1 did not dream. 1 awoke in the morning, and there was no troubled mind. I knew What the day would be. Perhaps 1 did not feel everything .... during these last few hours I have felt v and it has been horrible; 1 did not know the meaning of fear. 1 saw my dog die, and still I remember the agony in its eyes. And now I feel like my poor dog. . . . I'm afraid, and if it were not for you " " Yes?" said Sir James, very quietly. " If it were not for you, I should follow my dog." Sir James slipped his ajm through Adam's, and their pace slackened. The outburst had, startled him, but he was ja man of understanding. His many years at the bar had given him a keen comprehension of human nature. He struggled to put himself in Adam's place, and slowly grasped what the I young man must be feeling. \Vord_s rushed to his lips, but he held them back. All that he said must be carefully thought out —there must be nothing that I might cause a loss of confidence; and yet, what could he say to bring comfort? Adam went upstairs, and did not appear when lunch was served. Sir James waited awhile, and after he had finished wrote v few letters. Afterwards, he I went out to the grounds, and walked i about for some time. An hour later, lie ! saw Adam coming rapidly towards him, and. as he drew near, was impressed by the look of determination on his face. There was a grassy bank near by, and they sat down. " You've something to tell mc," Sir ' James suggested. ! "Yes .... I know you mean well. I | believe you're my friend, and 1 don't I want you to misunderstand. . . . Will you go away and leave mc here?" i "Won't you explain?" i " It is difficult to express my thoughts, but I'll try. To be frank, I'm afraid of your world. There's so much to be learnt, and I'm not curious to learn. This lifo had contented mc. I've known no great joy, but I've missed pain. This last day or two hae seemed like months, and I've been very unhappy. Besides, something tells mc that you would not be here of your own choice. I trouble you as you trouble mc. You are staying only because Mark was your friend, and you promised him. Isn't it true?" "Xo," Sir James answered after a pause. "Before 1 knew you I did dread the responsibility; but noWI welcome it. Adam, my boy, you've brought « new interest into my life. There's something in you that commands affection. You're simple and at the same time complex." "You look upon mc as a study," Adam exclaimed, bitterly. "To some extent I do, but'Vm not vulgarly curious. If I left you here alone I should not have a moment of peace. It would be a crime, for already you are awake, and would never be content to

remain'in ignorance. In ~a few days you would break from your prison and seek the world of your own accord. Strong as you are, I don't believe you could face it alone. Honestly, I like you very much. It will be a pleasure to guide your learning. And you will find that I can be very patient. I don't blame you for this outburst . . it's only natural . Adam, do you trust mc?" "Yes." "You believe that I shall always advise' you for your own good?" "I trusted Mark as I could trust myself. I always believed that he acted for my good; And now I find that it was of science that he was thinking." "Only at the beginning, until he grew to love you. I have a human interest in you, my boy. It is essential that you have confidence in mc." Adam examined bis face—coldly and critically. "Yes. I will trust you," he said at last. "You shall never regret it. My daughter will be htre to dinner to-night. I hope_you will be great friends. She is well educated, and highly intelligent; hut, 'better still, she is sympathetic, and I believe she will help to reconcile you to your new life. . By-thc-by, I left a Bible in the study. You may care to read it. You couldn't have a better introduction 40 the literature of the world." - » Adam's face lighted up wonderfully, and without remark he jumped up and ! ran in the direction of the Retreat. Sir James watched him, until he had disappeared, and then followed very slowly. He glanced at his watch, and decided drive into Sclvertori to fetch Amber. 1 (To be continued daily.)