THE HOUSE ON THE BOGS

Auckland Star, Volume LIII, Issue 86, 11 April 1922, Page 10

THE HOUSE ON THE BOGS

By KATHERINE TYNAN.

CHAPTER IV. She found him standing where s-he had lp£t him. The sun was dropping, a round scarlet globe, into the masses of copper-coloured cloud shot through with tire, which had been coming up from the horizon. Mists were creeping over the wide golden country. The air nipped eharply. Tie came to meet her when he saw her approach, and Michael jumped up to her and licked her hand, as though already he had accepted her. "Ought we not to be introduced?'' he asked with a grave smile that Doreen found very attractive, the more that fraiety lurked behind it. ''I am Christopher, otherwise Kit Lavery." '"And I am Doreen O'rvcltyV she said. They shook hands solemnly, and then tiifv i>oth laughed. "I have been promising the kitten an introduction to Michael," she said. "She distrusts 'him, so far. By the way, she harl not got a name yet." '"Call her Fortuna , .'' he suggested. "She came for our haippy meeting." "Oh, do you call it happy?" Doreen asked demurely, "with the prospect of spending , the night in most uncomfortable circumstances in this miserable place?",]. While she said it her heart danced. She must really have been very frightened', without realising it, since her relief was so immense. "I oall it very lucky," he said. "We are so glad to be able to take care of j you—Michael and T. It was just a c-hancp that I grew sick of these realms of gold, beautiful as they are, and took it into my head to look for a train. I've been tramping for the last three weeks." "You look it." she said. "Do I look a tramp?" _\ "Oh no, quite an honest -working permn. But you**are very sunburnt. ,, "f Jive most of my "time out-of-doors," •he said. "I am an honest farmer." "Oh, she said. '*I should have guessed you to be a soldier."' "So I wa.i. till 1 turned my sword into a. ploughshare." "In Ireland ?'' "Yes; I have a little place in Kildare. , ' "I am going to Ireland, too," she said joyously. ""I've been twelve years away frarii her. and I've never forgotten her. Imagine what it will be one of these days to ccc her hills coming into sight from the deck of the mailboat!" "Twelve years is a long time." he said looking at her contemplatively. "You must have been a small child when you left." "Nine years old. Old enough to remember. Does any other country give the same feeling of glamour, when you are away from it?" "One always goes back happily," he said soberly. "But—twelve years? At school?" "At the Abbey of Klosterberg, near Vienna." "You might have stayed there —taken the veil!" he said with an air of personal dissatisfaction. Her eyes sparkled in their brown depths. "I almost did," she replied. "They were so dear, the nuns. Only I was called back into the world." She had a sudden shyness as though she had been saying too much, and she turned aside with, — "\Ve haven't yet introduced Michael and Fortuna." "Bedad, you're right," he said. "Come here, iMicken, mc boy." ■His sudden jolly assumption of the speech she remembered, banished her shyness. • "1 love to hear it." she said, and put Fortuna down, on the platform, where Michael stood and regarded her arched back from a respectful distance, looking up at his master as though to say that the unfriendliness was not his fault. "They will make friends presently," Kit Lavery said. '"Michael has a kitten of his own at home. I have seen him come in dead-tired from a long tramp, to pick up the kitten wandering in the darkness, carry her in and lay her in her basket before he flung himself down to sleep off the fatigue. By the way —are you very hungry? Hadn't I better go in search of provisions V "To that village six miles off? Xot unless I go with you." He smiled. "Do you think I might not come back?" She shivered. A cold little wind had sprung up. The night was coming fast; already the sun had" disappeared and the clouds he had illumined were failing cold and grey as ashes. "You might not be able to find your way back," she said. "I might not. The corn gives no landmarks. I have some food here." He indicated the knapsack, he was carrying. "But I should have come back all the same," he said. "7 should not have left you alone." "'Hadn't we better pool our resources?" she asked gaily. "Is that the right word? I am not sure." "Quite right. I am glad you have not forgotten your English, even though it is slang. Your accent is alarmingly foreign." "It wilt , disappear. There was an English nun and fortunately an Irish governess. I talked with both so that I should not forget. In the holidays when I was with people who talked either French or German, I used to feel myself groping after the English words. But I held fast." "Yes, I see you did. You have still a little touch of the brogue. The Irish governess, I suppose." "She was a Limerick woman. But now you have Tiot told mc yet what you have in your knapsack!" "I have some slices of sausage bought at the last town I passed through, a couple of hard-boiled eggs, a black loaf, and a flask of white wine." "Splendid!" she said, and clapped her hands. ''"You can't have much else in your knapsack." "You think I am fond of creature comforts ?" '"Evidently. "I am very glad you are. We shall feast like kings." "And queers," he added. "And queens," she accepted the correction. "You end Michael —the kings, FoTtuna and I —the queens." They went into the waiting-room to spread out their contributions to the banquet. The table 'bore the grime of ages. He ran for a wisp of coarse grass to wipe it down. By the time he csme back, she had taken out a piece of work from her travelling bag—a long strip of fine linen which might serve as a cloth. "Light!" he said, when he had serub'bed the table'as clean as he could; "we must have light."

His eve roamed round the walls. "Ah, good!" he said; "there is a lantern. If only it contains oil!"' It did. He lit it. It gave a murky light, but they were not disposed to 'be captious. It was immensely better than the dark. She had spread the cloth, laying out the sausage, the bottle of wine, the bread, her own chicken sandwiches, the fruit and cakes. There was her glass and his knife And fork. He was looking at his hands distastefully. The oil from the little-used lamp had smeared them. "I can't sit down like this to food," he said. "I must look for water." "There is plenty. I will show, it you, j under the corn. And 1 have a towel and soap." She unfolded them with pride. The fragrance of the sweetly scented soap reached his nostrils. He had noticed it before when she moved her hands. | "Too dainty," he said. "I would not profane them. I always travel with a j rough towel and a cake of soap." | He came l>ack with an armful of corn, I which he put upon the table. j "For you to sit on," he said. "A golden throne for a queen. Now we | I can begin." They laughed and chattered over the ' meal. Doreen had perched herself on the ■ table in the midst of the purloined sheaf. He had turned her 6tout school-girl j trunk sidewaye and used it for a seat. They reminded each other not to be too extravagant, to cave for another meal, if need be. They might have known eacli other all their days, to a spectator, if j there had been one. Michael sat with one paw on his master's knee waiting for his chare. The kitten in the strawpurred and rubbed herself against Doreen. j When they were all fed t>.ey put away what remained, tidily, lest the excursion train should come in the middle of the night. She was thinking with an overwhelming thankfulness how good it was that it was he who had come. Perhaps only with his islander, or at least the English-speaking man, would such a position have been possible. A touch of consciousness, of gallantry, would have spoilt it all. She might have met Kit Lavery in a drawing-room, for all consciousness he ehowed of their strange position. "Come and smoke." he said easily, when they had, as he said, washed up and put alvay. "We had better get warm, J for the night is going to be cold. Are you warmly clad?" 'He touched her arm ever co slightly, j with no more consciousness than if he had been her brother. Yes, she had travelled with a coat, fortunately. And it lay on top or her rug, being too cumbrous to pack. She had complained earlier in the day that the eight of it made jher think of sunstroke. Xow, it was very comfortable. He gave her a cigarette and lit it, rallying her over her accomplishment, and asking if the nuns encouraged the practice of smoking. Jshe answered sedately that she had learnt it in the holidays with her school-friends, and while she said it she mused thankfully, but with a little frown—if he could have seen it —on hie difference from the one or two who had terrified and offended her. They walked up and down upon the platform, while the wind blew keen and sang in the wires, and overhead the stare came out in a sky darkly purple that seemed shaken with their movement and multitude. The dog followed them up and down, sighing now and again, because a deg hates these goings to and fro, and longs to be off on an adventure, the end of which is not in eight. Doreen had laid the kitten inside her rug, where it slept fed full. Not for long, evidently, had it enjoyed so good a meal. Doreen had taken off her hat. which had given her a headache, she said, from wearing it so long in the hot train. She had thrust her hands into the pockets of her coat, and she walked with a free air as though she was accustomed to the moors and the mountains. He could see her cloudy hair blown about by the wind, in the half-light. Through the stars a full moon was climbing the sky. They talked like old friends, the intimacy progressing as they went. There was exhilaration in her swift step; her uplifted head, Somehow the world had I become new since this adventure. She had been going home friendless, or all but friendless. Who had she except the two old friends, Miss Katie and Miss Honoria, who now dwelt near their sister in quiet English country. The debacle which had shaken the crown from the Empreee's marvel of golden hair, had not swept away with it her golden store. There was no need for the gouvernante to go on the world, and the discrowned lady was not one to forget her faithful servants. But —Doreen had been so long away— there were no others —none at all in Ireland. She reminded herself that there were always the mountains —and somewhere within those happy borders, perhaps, perhaps not, there was the benefactress she had never forgotten, who had cried to her through her dreams. The time passed quickly. He had extinguished the lantern in the waitingroom lest the oil should run out. Outside the night was light with the full moon. '■"Xine o'clock." he said. "You must be tired —and I may have to disturb you in the night. You had better turn in and get what sleep you can. I wish it couid be more comfortable." "And you?" she asked. "I must keep watch for the train. You will hear mc moving up and l down during the night, and you will not be afraid! Michael and I shall be watching over you." "It will be very cold," she said. "We have slept out colder nights than this." "You will take my rug. I have this heavy coat. I shall be beautifully warm." "Aβ though I should take your rug! The seate in the waiting-room will be very hard. I ehall be warm exercising, and when I am tired there is that littfe hut over there." He relit the smoky lantern, spread the rug carefully for her, tried and rejected her bag as a pillow, replacing it with his own knapsack. "I think it will be fairly comfortable for you and Fortuna," he eaid, going towards the door and turning to look back at her. -"Ah," ehe said, "you are very good at taking care of one, as though you were ueed to it." "I wish I could have done something to 'make you more comfortable. Now I hope you will sleep. Good-night! You had better bolt your door. Remember we shall be quite near, Michael and I, in our

hut. But I shall not he going to bed for quite a long time yet. Good night! " " Good night! " She bolted the door and looked round the uninviting place. It was very warm by comparison with the outer air. The iron sheets with a coating of felt upon them held the heat. She seized the rug in her arms, unbolted the door, and flung it out. "It's like a hot-house in here," she said. "And I have my coat. I should stille if I had more." She had closed and bolted the door before he could speak. He remonstrated the other side of the door, and heard her laugh within, and at last he went off with the rug. She was really very tired though &he had not known "it, and presently, despite the. discomforts of her couch, she slept soundly. ■She"awoke with a start, sometime during the night. The lantern had gone out, and the place was very cold. Her heart was thudding in her ears. Something had frightened her, she knew not what. But presently she knew. There were sounds which at first she could not make out. Then she realized what they were. Something, men or caitle, were passing through the corn outside, making a rustling- sound as they passed. I'ney were talking in low gutturals which she coi.ld not make out. A moment more and someone battered at her door. For a second she was terrified; then came reassurance. "Michael barked. Then she heard Christopher Lavery's 1 voice. At first the other voices were raised as if in anger. Then they became quieter. There was something soft and 'persuasive in the Irishman's tones, though he was speaking German, i After a while the slouching footsteps ' went away heavily. "Are you awake?" Kit Lavery asked from outside the door. " Yes." j "Not frightened?" ! " Xot Tsith you and "Michael there." ( '* Ah, that's right. You had better go asleep again. The train will not go through to-night. They "were a pair of poor tramping devils who wanted to I sleep under cover. I offered them the shed, but they said they would freeze to I death. They are gone off walking to Aar. I find my watchman's box is portable, 1 am going to put it at your door. 'I am sorry you were disturbed." | Presently she heard the bumping of. , the thing as it was pulled along the platform and set up against the waitingj room door. "Comfortable?" asked the voice again. " Quite. And you ? " "In luxury. Good night, once more." "Good night." There would be no more terrors with Kit Layer}- and Michael between her? door and anybody who tried to enter. !But, oh, what would have .happened if ishe had been alone? They might be quite harmless, the poor tramping men, 'but she said to herself that-she would j have died of fear. (To be continued daily.)