JOHN HORTON'S WARD

Bruce Herald, Volume XXIX, Issue 2955, 26 April 1898, Page 3

JOHN HORTON'S WARD

Wj^.U't Jl^J'^oSyenor bunster, Fe,f « a » Tho S>evir* Wile, «i e *ißton_?s Re YfiJiS©, -j_ftle» of Crimes and Trials, etc.". et<% *

CHAPTER IV

Mr. Buffles Speaks His Mind. Mr; Sparkle smiled. He had now recorered his usual jaunty, self-suffi-cient manner ; and £ presently arising, announced his intention of departing. 'Atfeady, Mr. Sparkle?' said the widow, tenderly. Mr. Buttles became instantly swollen with indignation. ' Already !' echoed Mr. Sparkle, with an impudent wink at the widow. ' I'm sure that Mr. Buttles will agree with me, that late hours, especially if passed in fascinating and bewildering society — society, Mr. Buffles, likely to induce heartache and endanger oneis peace of mmd — are not conducive to the elevation of a young man's moral character. Good evening, Mrs. Clinker. I'll kiss- -your hand, madam,' and he did ; and winking at the outraged butler, stepped jauntily from the ro_m. 4 Well, I never!' cried the widow. Did; yon ever, Mr. Buffles?' — and she looked at her still hard-breathing admirer with a merry twinkle in her brown eyes. For some moments the butler remained speechless, His fat face assumed many hues— scarlet, yellow, ashy white — finally settling into a mottled blue. Pathologically, Mr. Buffles was suffering' from a reflex action of the nerves upon his various organs ; and it is likely that had he not been a man of great self-control and amazing confidence in his own merits; Mr. Sparkle's audacity would have been the. death of the worthy gentleman. As it was, he sighed heavily,, wiped the perspiration from his face, and gazing dimly at the lady, ejaculated the word ' Gin !' The widow quickly responded to this remarkable appeal ; and comforted and sustained, alike by her ardent sympathy and the potency of her winning smile, Mr. Buffles rapidly became restored to his usual suave and dignified state of mind. The widow sat down, and, placing one dainty foot upon the fender regarded it meditatively. Following the direction of her pensive gaze, the butler's eyes became fascinated by the grace and beauty of that little foot. It was too much for him. His emotions overcame his prudence ; his passion bore down all doubts or fears. He sighed heavily, and then, seizing the lady's hand; conveyed it to his lips, and bestowed upon it a fervent kiss. 'Oh, Mr. Bufff-is !' she cried, 'cruel, naughty man — how dare you ?' 'It's my feelin's, mum,' replied the enamoured butler. ' Mrs. Clinker, I love you, I adore you. Life without you, mum, would be like meat without salt.' The widow glanced at her ponderous lover from underneath her eyelids. She smiled. 'Oh, Mr. Buffles,' she Said, ' you have taken me by surprise. This is so sudden. I never dreamed — you never led me to suspect.' 4 1 didn't, mum,' said Mr. Buffles. " I did not. I didn't know my own feelin's until I seed that feller ' — and here the butler 'struck out one, two, three, from the shoulder — 'kiss your hand- When ..I seed that, mum, all the blood in my body was set a-boilin', and my heart kept knockin' about like a suet drrmpHn' in a saucepan. Thank 'eaven he wint, mum, or there'd been murder done — murder' — and again tbe butler performed a series of pugilistic gestures. ■The widow laughed softly, then she looked up, and nestling close to her lover, she said : « Silly, silly, Mr. Buffles. Did you think for one moment that I cared for that puppy. I who so long have learned to— r—' aud here the widow paused. 'Speak out, mum,' cried the amorous butler. ' Say as you a-love me.' '• I confess I do, Mr. Buffles.' ♦Don't, don't. Call me William.' «I confess then, William, that I have long regarded you with more than friendship.' ' Oh !' cried the enraptured butler, •what a moment of 'appiness and joy. Permit me, mum. In view of that there blessed confession I must take you to my 'cart and bestow on them ruby Hps — a checker.' Whether the lady fully understood the meaning of this last word, or whether she had determined to no longer thwart the butler's love-making by any further coyness, the author of this veritable narrative cannot say. But it is certain that she permitted her lover to salute her several times without appearing in anyway to disapprove of the proceedings. ' Then you will be mine, Belinda,' said, the butler, after his oscillatory perforrffah.ee. . * All niine/~ ; ■■ ■, « All yours, William, dear William,' was the answer. 1 1 think,' saidthe butler, ' that after this 'ere blessed arrangement, I'll take .another wif, ...After w.hich-pl'.ll go 'ome and dream of 'appy "'days to come,,' . -.■ :■ . •.' .-:..- /i , . The worthy gentleman- navmg thus refreshed himself, and having his shawl arranged around his neck by the widow, with a tender hope that |he • would take care of his health for her sake, once more kissed the lady, and made for home. And as he walked slowly in the direction of the ' Lodge,' he chuckled. 'This,' he muttered, .« coines. of speaking one's mio&'

-■-. - '■■".■ ,-" ... .-•'•' ' • ■ ■ ' ' This,' laughed the widow as she pushed her back hair before retiring to sleep r- % this, comes' -ot management/ , „ -,

■ fHAPTFP *■_■-

Philip Verners*: . Mr. Sparkle walked rapiHly from the; 'Rose and Thorn ' in the direction of Richmond, evidently considerably excited. Now and then he gave a low whistle, which was one of his peculiarities when moved by surprise or any special interest. He crossed the bridge to Churchstreet, passed Bridge-road, and made for ah obscure street on the flat. He' knocked at the door of a humble cottage. It was answered by a young woman, neatly but poorly dressed, in whose face was to be read that anxious careworn look which, in women even worse then men, tells the grave story of poverty and struggle. ■ ' Is he in ?' said Sparkle, and she nodded, and led the way to an inner I room. Mr. Sparkle entered with the , gesture of one accustomed to visit the house, and beheld two men seated on either-side of a table, playing cards. A candle stuck into the neck of a bottle sufficed to give light to their entertainment, and cast a dim radiance upon their faces. One man, tall and muscular, might have been forty-five or thereabouts, though his was one of those dark rugged faces which in youth impress the idea that the owner is much older than he really is, and again in age, suggest that his years are less than they are. He wore a black beard and moustache ; his eyes were, brooding black and sparkling; his complexion indicated Southern, if not, a strain of black blood. He wore ear-rings, after the manner of sailors of Greek and Spanish nationality. It was he to whom Mr. Sparkle nodded and said — ' Good evening, Philip.' ' What brings you here so late ?' said the man. ' News !' said Sparkle. 1 Good or ill?' ' That is as may be,' was tfie answer. ' You remember, I suppose, the little Olive Comarado ?' The man addressed sprang from his chair and uttered an oath in Spanish. ' Now, cease your trifling, Sparkle,' he cried. 'Remember her ? What the devil ! How could I forget ! But what of her ? Is she dead ? Is my father dead ?' 1 Oh, he is gone,' answered Sparkle, re-lighting a stump of a cigar. ' But the girl (she is near to womanhood now, I reckon) is very much alive. So much so, that I think when I tell you she is domiciled here in Melbourne, and that the young woman who spoiled certain plans, you may remember, is still her attendant, you will, I think, be disposed to assert that wonders will never cease, my dear Verners-' Philip Verners stared stupidly at the speaker for some seconds. Then he exclaimed : 'It's a lie! I don't believe it ! Why should she?' ' You file the Argus, I believe,' said Mr. Sparkle. 'If you turn back to a week or ten days' date, it will be seen, 1 suppose, whether the girl arrived. At this, the third occupant of the room, who was an elderly little man, with a clean shaven face, a pair of keen restless eyes, a head shaped like a pear, and the general aspect of a mischievous magpie, reached from a nail a file of the Argus. 'Hum! hum!' he said. 'Allow me. Searching is quite in my line. Name, please. Hum !' ' Olive Verners,' said Sparkle ; and the little man with head perked on one side, glanced rapidly down the slippery columns of the paper. ' Ha ! yes. Here we are. Per mail ship, Columbia. Hum ! Ha ! Miss Olive Verners and servant. There you are, Verners. Good evidence, though it may not be correct. But — hum ! yes. I think I would venture to swear an affidavit on the strength of. it ;' and the little 1 man looked wistfully at an entity decanter. Philip Verners stood for some moments' in thought, his ' dark face working under the influence, evidently, of intense emotion." Suddenly he cri.ed out : " v, .. ... .;. J ' "-. « Alice ! Alice !' The woman who had ushered in Mr. Sparkle entered the room, -;" ddl V: ' Yes,. Philip, 1 ' she:said. . .' p"> { What money have you ?' ■•*• -di : d; ' Thirteen shillings ; but t^o weeks' rent are due, and ' .-i'^d.:: ' Curse the rent, girl,' he shall soon be above such sordid matters. Quick ! Get a bottle of brjti|dy^. Our fortune is sure, woman-^sure. •• Ha | ha ! The devil takes care^ hiy^wn-^ the devil takes care of his^bwn.? : ' Philip,' said the .woman,yhesitatingly. - dd<r-'-.- --: « Go,' he said. 'Do as. I -tell you. , Nay, don't be frightened. "'* Come, I » tell you that all is well.'. . The woman turned. slowly,,. .tears i n j her eyes. She shut the door. Verners, 5 seeirig J th_ckrds, swept' thena' from -the : table, at which ,the; rlittle^man.; pro^ ; > tested-,. . „.- „ ..,.■.-. ■ 'Ob; I say; what are ydii doing ? I I held two aces .and a king,, JMr. Philip? I ' And I boicUifhe^tJfest ;cards,scned : ; • tbe other, ' that ever Satan lent to his own. Pshaw 1 Something better is in

B^ J h l d id'"dA .'..Well, .said Mr..Snapper, Uhat may , be. ..But as yet, you know, lam in the'dark. I apprehend, of course, that tbis 'ere young lady is a relative, but how. -or,in what .way that/may affect yjoupl fpirtune is|l-er-~not *-at present d&fetb me. Ah^i< lieffr *is madam with the brandy.' The woman entered as he spoke, and set the bottle-before her husband — 7forsuch he seemed. Mr s Snapper— { who s_e_}e'#everdnthe alert for contingencies — instantly produced a corkscrew, and-with the deftness, horns of, experience, speedily withdrew the cork/ Then he turned the bbttr£ upside down on the palm of his hand. VTo disseminate. ,the fusel v;oil, ; my good friend,' he said in answer to Mr. Sparkle's. Look, Jit is unwholesome,. and\ I always avoid; matters > ; which are likely to disagree with me.' 'Faith !' laughed Verners; ' if your clients wereof similar mind, you, would not have much to do, Sparkle. But, conle ! Alice, my dear, take a glass of spirits and get to bed. We have business to discuss.' ' Honest business, Philip ?' said the woman, timidly. For a moment Verners's brow darkened. Then he laughed, and bending, kissed the woman's cheek. 'Honest!' he echoed. 'Aye! Nothing likely at any rate to bring me, or any of us, within grip of the law. Come, drink up, little woman, and leave us.' She did as she was bade, and left tbe room. Then Philip Verners drank some brandy, and cried : ' Success to honest work, Snapper. •Hump ! We shall need your brains in such congenial enterprise*' ' You do me honour, my dear Verners,' answered the little man, with one eye upon him and the' other on the bottle. ' But if lam to serve you, I must understand the position.' True !' said the other.; ' and that you may learn everything, I will tell you my story from the beginning. I feel in the mood to be garrulous. You bave no objection, Sparkle ?' and he laughed. ' I,' answered Mr. Sparkle, raising his eyebrows. 'My good fellow, why should I object ? 1 shall be delighted to listen to a history which I am assured must be full of piquant adventures and picturesque treatment.' Philip Verners laughed. 'We shall i see, my dear boy, how you like the piquant adventures. As to the picturesque treatment, let that pass. Come, fill up, light your pipes, and listen to the history of a rascal.'

CHAPTER VI.

Philip Vekners's Story. ' i ' I don't suppose,' said Philip Ver- [ ners, as he drained a large glass of brandy, * I don't suppose that either of you are very squarmish. I may as well tell you that*what I have to relate is not much in the moral or virtuous line. I have been a rascal all my days, I think. lam a rascal now.' As he paused at this moment, as though awaiting his listeners' opinion on the point, Mr Sparkle nodded and exclaimed : ' Certainly, Philip. But why waste time in telling us stale news? We are all rascals, eh, Mr. Snapper? Why not? The world is made up of knaves and fools — that is to say, intellect and imbecility. I own that I side with intellect. Go on, Philip?' ' Well, then,' continued Philip, 'I provise my story by saying that I was born a devil. I inherited this happy disposition from my mother — not the girl's mother, mark you — she was my stepmother. But my mother, I think, was the incarnation of evil. If she had any good point it was in her love for me, and even that was rather the love of the she wolf for her cub. She taught me every instinct of her own fierce and unwomanly nature, and I drew from her breast her second self. Ere I wore a beard I was familiar with all phases of vice and crime.' ''Presto mature, presto podrido,'' said Mr. Sparkle, sententiously, ' eh, Mr. Verners ?" ' Precisely,' said Philip, with a sinister smile ; which means, Snapper, soon ripe, soon rotten.' ' Humph ! Very apt, my dear sir, very apt,' cried the little man. 'It is. It describes my development in every particular. But let me proceed. I need scarcely say that the relationship between my father and my mother were of the most unhappy kind. My father was what the world, in its cant, calls a gentleman — that is to say he was honourable, of high principles, and addicted to none ofthe vices which in Manilla are reckoned small failings He neither drank, gambled, intrigued, or swindled. I say no more than truth when I declare that he was regarded as, a moral phenomenon. You may-judge, there- ! fore, tHat the "peccabilities of my excellent mother were not agreeable to him. She drank — as only Malays can drink when they take to the viee — gambled like a. devil, and as for virtue —well, it does not become one to speak ill of his mother. Let it suffice that she was all evil, and that her chief pleasure lay in its exercise. What wonder that I, inheriting her hot and savage nature, becaVne a willing and apt pupil of her teachings. That she taught me to h&te my father, I need not say. Her lessons here struck root in good soil. _ did hatewhim, have ever hated him; and when; at last, he separated from my mother, I swore that come what might I'd wreak revenge upon him. Sh£ died — not from grief or shame — but excess. I, who "was' with her at the; thttej echoed her curse -.upon myfather,. and when,^ afterwards,. I re-; : turned to his roof, it was in the secret.hope that fortune would place it in my; 'power to carry out my hatred, and ? :'wr|a^'my vengeahce, upon him. And? yet* trie" man had done me no ill. Indeed, he treated me with kindness and indulgence. But he was what '. \ .

peoplccalUa Just-man |~J.ha.. ; k.ind.-O.C . man who meters out his reward and . punishment by. weight- and. balance— ; just as a grocer fellow weighs you out your sugar and tea. j^y f .i|eayens| these cold calculating Englishrhet^have \hk best of us, who are born under the sun.' Here, pausing awhile, he filled up his glass and idf an&ji^jthe contents. His example being followed by his friends, he then continued ; : - "-: '■>' I need not say. that my natural and acquired cunning" stood' hie in good service in dealing with my father. For years I was regarded by him" as a model of reditude and good character. He showed his appreciation of this by doing all in his -power to. Tser-ve any prospects. Having large interest with the Spanish Government, he easily procured me a commission in the nayy ; and I was appointed to a gunboat employed among the islands There it was that I first met you Sparkle.' 4 True, Philip,' said Sparkle, puffing his cigar, ' and under Very dubious circumstances, wasn't it?' Philip smiled darkly, as he nodded. 4 Yes,' he replied, 4 a little blood shed, and ' • There, there,' cried Sparkle, with a slight suspicion of annoyance; 'no need to shock my friend, Snapper, you know. Let the past bury the past, my dear Philip, at least, so far as I am concerned No need to turn resurrectionist of my follies.' * Well, no,' answered Philip. ' Though, as for me, I find a kind of pleasure in the memory of those wild days. T'was a roaring time, Sparkle, eh? Wine, women, fighting, diee — aye, dear me ! we shall never see such times again,' and he sighed mournfully, as one might in the regret of days of gentle happiness and virtue. The man seemed indeed to take that pleasure in the contemplation of evil which most men take in the retrospect of good. Presently, with a harsh laugh, he continued : ' Well, to cut a long story short, I obtained command of a vessel. Meanwhile my father had married again — the mother of Olive. I need not say that I hated them all — father, mother, and brat. But I dissembled well ; so well that I grew daily in favour of my people. I remember indeed hearing my father one day mutter to himself, ' who would think that such a mother could bear such a son,' and I laughed with glee to think how I had hoodwinked them all. Oh ! I hated them all, and now I hate the spawn that lies between me and fortune.' 1 With the extraordinary passion which a quick thought could create in this man, his face now grew black with rage — his large black eyes scintillated with anger. He clenched his teeth, and struck the table with his fist. Mr. Snapper — his head perked on one side, in his customary magpie fashion — regarded him curiously. Mr. Sparkle looked at him with a smile of languid contempt. 'My dear Philip,' said he, ' pray control your little prejudices. Let us hear the rest !' ' Well,' continued Philip, with rapid speech, ' it came to pass that in my trips to the neighbouring islands I combined pleasure with profit. I indulged in the illegal but exciting pastime of piracy ; levied en route settlements as I chose, and played the devil generally. You may remember, Sparkle- ' 'My dear Philip,' interrupted Mr Sparkle; 'I remember nothing. I shall be glad if you will follow my example in all that relates to me personally.' ' Ha ! ha !' laughed Mr Snapper ; 'very good, sir, very good. Loid keep my memory green, as that admirable social anatomist, Mr Charles Dickens, remarks. He was wrong, however. Most men of your sort — gentlemen of your sort— would give a trifle to blot out all memory of the past, eh ?' 'Not I, for one,' cried Verners. ' However, let that pass. It had been my habit to take my father's daughter —this Olive Verners — with me on ■some trips. She was then a child, and I did not fear that her presence could ever endanger us. My object was simple enough. I wished to destroy the brat. I knew that my father was wealthy, and! had determined that hia riches should be mine. For this I had dissembled and lied ; for this I had held down my passions, waiting the time and opportunity, when, by a stroke Por Diablos^ I could make his mine. Aye! never shudder, Snapper, we have a way of winning in my country which is a quicker and a safer method than your tricks and cheatings of the law." To Be Continued.