SWEET NELLY GREY.

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Issue 4811, 11 January 1887, Page 4

SWEET NELLY GREY.

(BY AXEXAOTEE Gr. MtJKDOCH.)

CHAPTER IV.

MAT MOKBISOn'B HOUSE —A LAKGE STJBPBISE OVEE A BJIALL " AKTICI/B " —A STAETLING DISCOVERY. "Wife, look here; I'm agoin' into the town a few steps," but I'll be back betimes, said a stout young husband in an English accent to his homely Scotch spouse, as he caught up his cap and turned to depart. " Weel, Matt, I'll ha'e the kettle on aboot ten o'clock, sac dinna be muckle beyond It." , " Eight, lass," acceded the husband., and forthwith he stepped leisurely outside the humble doorway, turning his face westwards towards the great city. The lowly, one-flat, red-brick cot m which the foregoing dialogue took place was situated in the London Boad, about a mile east of Bridgeton Cross. The speakers were Matt Morrison and his lawfullywedded spouse, Noll Eobson, and the dialogue occurred about the hour of eight o'clock on the same Saturday night on which the outcast woman was turned away so pitilessly from the door of Clydebank Villa. ... Matt was mechanic and engine-keeper in the Strathclyde Factory, where he had now wrought for a immber of years. He was a Manchester man, and had come down and got settled in Glasgow during a trade strike in his native town, having first found work, and afterwards a wife, in the Strathclyde Weaving and Spinning Mills. An Englishman bred and born, Matt retained to the last all the peculiar accent and much of the phraseology of his native district. He was still a comparatively young man, having just turned thirty, and was altogether a right-down honest fellow, without a gram of cant or pretence in his nature. Open and above-board in all his dealings, he was warmly beloved by many of his fellowworkmen, and was respected by all who knew him as friend or acquaintance. Physically, Matt was a man of strong build, was dark of skin and eyes, and possessed of a firm-looking head and face—the head surmounted with short, crisp, curly hair; the face clean-shaven, but looking manly, anil all but handsome in its strong, selfreliant outline. Eegarding the distinctly Scottish flavor of his surname Morrison— which smacked of the North Highlands— that came to Matt tlirough his paternal grandfather, who had fought under the Jacobite banner at Culloden, and who had gone South nhortly afterwards consequent on that wide-reaching disaster. Eelativeto his wife, Nell Eobson, she was "winder" in the Strathclyde Mills when Matt Morrison married her. Very shortly after her marriage, she had returned to her work in the mill, as is usual in such cases, and not having been blessed, with the burden of a family, she had so remained, finding herself all the richer in purse and all the better in health for the thrifty resolution. Very happy, and to all outward appearance, very comfortable the pair seemed to be. Their joint wages were not large, by any means, even when classed together, but living frugally and temperately as they unfailingly did all the year round, and being in addition, without the burden of a small family, they were able, not only to appear respectable, both off and on work, but had been enabled by thrifty economy to own ■what Nell called a "stockin' in the shuttle o' the kist," and which was viewed by both as a handy providement against a possible " sair fit" on some future day. But an " event" was about to occur which, trifling in itself, was destined to work powerfully in framing the future history of that humble household, and to dash the cup of their subsequent , wedded life with the darkness of heart sorrow, as well as with the mingled fervor and brilliancy of true joy. But the amplification of this "event," along with the tragic issues arising out of it, naturally falls here into tho refluent current of our etory, the dropped thread of which we once more take up. It was half-past ten o'clock of the Christmas Eve on which occurred the incidents related in the opening chapters of our history. Work for the week having been over for several hours previous, Matt Morrison had taken a short walk into town, and returning at a timeous hour he had stretched himself for " forty winks " atop of the coverlet, and had, as was very natural for a man of heavy physical toil, fallen soundly asleep. His wife, Nell, not wishing to disturb him, had " thrown" a shawl over her head, as Scotch housewives of the artizan class commonly do, and taking a small basket on her arm, had gone out in the interim to make Home late Saturday night markets. Matt's "nap" was necessarily short, and although sound enough in a sense, was light and easy, of disturbance. But for the hushed footfalls and muffled wheels on the outside, consequent on the snow, his sleep_ ■would have proved a wakinsr reverie of thought rather thaa a refreshing " nap."

A low nioan, however, as of a being in deep pain or mental trouble latterly caught his ear, and repeating itself, aroused his sensee to ucutest interest as he lay abed there, his face turned away from view of ths cherry hearth towards tho blank hed wall.

A deep silenco followed, and Mutt, who was as yet ouly partially aroused from his somnolent lethargy, lay still for a few moments longer, waiting a possible repetition of the eerie sound.

The sounds, however, were not repeated in his hearing; but suddenly, while he watched, the dark shadow of a human figure, glided furtively -across the apartment, distinctly ny'rrored itself against the inner bed-wall, in the strong, clear light of .. the fire, and he was instantly aware of a strange presence in the apartment. Hβ flung himself bodily round on the discovery, and promptly jumped to his feet. There was no second person in the room. But what tiny little bundle was that laying on the centre of the clean-scrubbed, shining floor ? And what tender, mewling, pathetic cry was that, which seemed coming from the very heart of it?—a faint cry for eyinpathy and succour, full of a far-away strangeness, as if dropped from the lips of a distressed cherub, or precipitated on the inner consciousness of the stricken listener from soino remote occult sphere. In two seconds Matt Morrison had tenderly caught up the small ragged, and uninviting I looking bundle in his owns, und was {■ presently amnzed and electrified even to the 'extißmo length of hi» ten finger tips at sight ;:of the preoioua morsel of humanity it con* taiiied. k "~ w ~Uoa3{ me for a blind man if it ira'fc a Jjreciuu* baby ! —bless its sweet little eyes'." involuntarily blurted out honest Matt, jmiling , delightedly at the interesting diacdvery, and thinking for the moment of Sothing beyond it. I Quioidy, but with awkwardly tender Jnoyements, he unwound the thin tattered ihmvi which enswathed it—up to the length Oftho two twin little " brilliants " called its eyes, and lo a minute but pei'fectly-formed edition of child humanity, with a pair of Jtlie prettiest little blue eyes and the silkiest ißtrtaks of fair Lair parted ever the sweetest twee pearly brow ever seen or painted, a [thread.of .scarlet doing duty for a mouth, a ■lovely little point of a chin, and two of the Kowuieft hitlo velvety cheeks, which were ■v i a heart-wanning , delight to touch with IoA ing fiiij; er-point. I 'The ''find thus fully understood, honest llatt -stared and better stared at the astound - Eg discovery, and for eevt-ral thrilling li uutes was practically unable to do aught ■t-yond it. ■jSjjriad'imiiy recovering his suspended senses, Kloukcd uijout to find a trace of the mother, Xt neither in the kitchen wherein he was B&uliiijr, uor in the snail bed-room adjoinBg, div. ho notice the slightest trace of a Hfcvsibie vid'taut. By. VVell, this is a go !" he at length ex■liiiied, "if the child isn't come direct from Bavc-n as a gift to Nell and I, then I'm ■i*ied if i can guess where it has come 'liV here now anyhow, and if Nell's Biiiy wind here it shall remain, and I daTeHVi the parish aint at all likely to trouble us Hr ih^Ueh very of it. Anyhow, with Nell's Huieiit, I'll stick to my precious little Hiiii'' ■»s a gift from God. What a darling Hte tootsywootsy of a tiling it is, to be sure, ttn pounds weight, I'm certain, Htreauhcs that same ? And such eyes, little twin stars, moist and shining of the tenderest imaginable beaaty, lit tie heart!" the child began to feebly but cry. Here was clearlf a '' fix.'' iiii.-xp-.Tienced aa he obviously was in babies—which are pointedly in most instances—paced to and the kitchen, and even attempted iullaby to quiecen its little cry ; Jig tentlvr moi-sel, already misxing, in way the mother's '' hash" be conforted, and the feeble cry by accentuated into a tempestutquuil. ' . $M : beautiful ?'' he reiwmed, ■Ep^te'/iifyN l ? mi Mi it 'ft?

microscopic cause of the row, "darn't if I haven't got the genuine baby to hold, I have ! The domestic atmosphere loots a bit squally just at this particular moment', steam's up with this 'ere smallmodel engine, I guess, but it'll How off inajiffey, I should say; can't be much storacfo of fuel in so very small a boiler; the pressure's sharp though, and rising too ! Wish I saw Nell hero; hush-a! hush-a! hush-a! and quickening his pace honest Matt stepped to and fro the length and breadth of his humble apartment in the fond hope of stilling the exquisite little tempest which raged in his arms. , „ , , " Well, well," he shortly resumed, making a dead pause after an ineffectual effort to still the child's cry, " I'd delightedly hobble-de-hoy the dear morsel, but it might come to pieces in my rough arms; a leg, or an arm, might fly off, or some awkward catastrophy of that sort happen, and then the doctor would be to pay, and no mistake ! Wish I saw Nell nere; hush-a! hush-a ! hush-a !" ' < Whatever's the matter; Matt' What's this at all?" suddenly broke in the voice of that wished-for personality, as she brushed hurriedly into the warm kitchen, shaking the gleaming snow-flakes from her covering shawl as she spoke. '' Eh, me, wha's aucht the bairn ? What's happened ? wha's is't P" " Faith, wife, and that's a trifle more'n I can tell or even guess at," truthfully answered the husband. "Found it placed flop on the centre of the floor ten minutes ago, just right down there," indicating the exact spot with its foot, "and that's all I know as regards it. Here, Nell, take the little creature. I'm right down afraid it breaks snap in two somewhere, I am. Babies are delicate morsels to handle, they are." " Bless the dear sweet child !" said the motherly-hearted woman when she had tenderly relieved her honest husband of his exciting burden, who stood aside for a few moments mopping the risen sweat from his rugged brow. "Do you know, husband, I really and truly believe its-^ts— its - " A what?" anxiously put in Matt, who was quite prepared to believe that his wife had discovered an angelic superscription on ifci body somewhere, with a heavenly postmark affixed, as a convincing sign-manual of its cherubic origin. "It's a what, Nell?" " A foundling, husband! ~..,.,., "A foundling, is it? Bless d if I did suspect it was something of that heavenly sort from the first," and honest Mart slapped his leg with great vigor as he spoke. "I guessed it was more'n a mere child all the time, in spite of its wee squall. Drop a winged angel from the skies on a snowy winter night such as this is, and I guess it would squall a bit too, or a mighty philosophic bit of creation it would surely be, I maintain." ' ' But what ava has tempted the wretched mother to leave her sorrow at oor door?" resumed the child's newly-found nurse, turning with tenderest care the wee pinched face of the child towards the wfcrm reflection of the cheery fire-light. "A rale bonnie bit bairn tae, an' as blue in the een as twa newly pud violets. Weel, husband, its here in oor keep an' care, whae'er auchts it, an' I think weel stick tae the bit bairn an' 'fend an' tend it as twa fond parents should—a sweet gift frae heaven. Its mither's heart despair in transferring her child to the care o' strangers wad maybe turn out her misfortune rather than her crime if narrowly looked intae, an' a sair, sair heart she maun c'en ha'e had thus to tear hersel' awa' frae siccan a sweet wee bit rosebud o' a bairn—puir wee lammie !" "That's right, wife, an's just the identical same as I was thinking myself. Bless'd if I didn't tako to the little stranger from the moment I clapped eyes on't, I did —it looked so blessed queer an' wee an' tender, an' so blamed innocent too !" " We'll get it washed an' sorted up a bit, onyway," said the wife; " for when looked intao the puir bit thing has a sair begrutten wee face. Ah, God help its puir heartbroken mither, that was forced in her hour o' despair to leave her tender burden at oor humble door ! Look ye, Matt—" "What's that, Nell!" interrupted the husband.

" The bairn's wee face is still wat wi' the mither's heart tears—puir woman! puir, unfortunate woman!"

" Poor woman, indeed, wife as you truly say," rejoined the husband, "may God help her in this her dark hour of trial, and if homeless, heaven send her kindly shelter from this night of wintry wind and snow! As for her wee babe, Nell, we stick to the precious gift,'' and turning short about the speaker struck a match against the bowl of his clay pipe, and began smoking with uncommon energy and much obvious preoccupation of mind, during which hrief silence his faithful domestic partner was engaged in stripping the child of its scant clothing preparatory to giving it a cleansing and refreshing bath. "Eh, but what's this, husbandf" she suddenly exclaimed, as she proceeded to nnroll a small folded up scap of white paper which had been carefully ginned to the child's rags, and which had hitherto escaped their notice.

" A clue !——a confession as the child's parentage, I'll warrant!" said her husband. " 'Deed is't, Matt; and' eh siree ! here's the engagement ring ! a broken troth-plight, an' a broken woman's heart! the auld, auld story o , a promise believed in an' broken !" ""Ay, ay; give me a look at the writing, Nell. Ah, hilloa ! what this f God help us ; the child's father is !" " Wha ?" eagerly questioned the wife. But Matt Morrison, struck dumb by the discovery, answered her not; neither, in fact, did he at all notice her keen question, so deeply intent was he in the absorbingly interesting peraual of the important note, hastily and excitedly written in pencil, and inside which the engagement ring—a handsome and costly gem—had been carefully wrapped. " God help us !" Morrison suddenly exclaimed, looking up from the paper with rapidly whitening face, " she's off to the river to drown herself! ,, and, springing hurriedly to his feet, he seized his cap and dashed wildly out into the rising storm of wind and snow.

[to be continued.]