The Leading Lamp. By JANE BARLOW, Author of " Bogland Idylls," etc. [All Right, Reserved.]

Evening Post, Volume LXXXIII, Issue 71, 23 March 1912, Page 12

The Leading Lamp. By JANE BARLOW, Author of " Bogland Idylls," etc. [ All Right, Reserved.]

The lamp itslf .was certainly, a jarring note, an inappropriate colour, and unpictureeque anachronism, with' its new patent duplex bumei', and its crude modern odour of paraffin. This seemed to be the more regretted because it was the' one thoroughly umornantic feature in a scene where all the other details were quite in keeping with the 'action of even a most high-flown heroine, and in, complete accordance with the best traditions of antiquity. ; Sheelah Finlay was not, however, concerning hereelf at all about considerations of that kind as she hastily lit her lamp, at the end of the long, dark . passage, ■ beneath the small windows above the hall-door porch. She took care to use a, silently flaming bit of paper, lest by come unlucky chance the scrape of v. Lucifer match should be disastrously overheard. As she did so, her reflections were chiefly about the fortunate breadth of the ledge made by the win-dow-sash, on which the lamp had room to- stand with the chinkfess oaken shuttVFs closed* behind' it, so that it could, throw its rays outward unsuspected by anybody inside the house. * Screwing on the*", glass chimney, and turning up the strongly blazing wick, she thought that the darkness of the winter's night was fortunate too, since through it the illumined panes would beam Like a portentously brilliant star. The light could not possioly be missed by anyon© looking 'up towards their hillside from Glascool Cross, down below, though that waa ■ a, long couple of milee away; and some' one was sure to be "looking iip. Quite sure, she said to herself, with a mixture of relief and compunction; might in fact be waiting there already. At this conjecture she made all the more haste; still it was with great caution that she handled heavy iron .bars to f asten^ ' the shutters; any unusual noise might attract most perilous notice. It was. not likely, she assured herself encouragingly, not at all likely, the person from whom she dreaded interruption being most probably shut up in tine smoking-room, a lone way 'off downstairs, and, if so, no doubt safely asleep, according to hie after-dinner custom. Yet the merest possibility was enough to alarm her mightily, and. she, knew that she must take into account a, lately developed propensity for. prowling about the house at unwonted times. Therefore, ehe breathed much more freely, when, the hook and chain of the old-fashioned, fastenings had been adjusted without accident. "If he did, come up now, be. could see nothing,"- she thought, "and how very lucky I was about the !side-dooT.' " Upon the manipulation .of its lock,indeed her whole plan had hinged, and she might well rejoice that this had been successfully accomplished an hour ago ; . though apparently secured ax usual, it ! would open at a .push- frpm outside. ' .With a lighter heart she . stole back along the passage to h«r own. • room, where ehe shut herself in; and then, first glancing cautiously round, lifted off a chair the thick woollen shawl which had been thrown over a moderate-sized handbag. The packing of it had occupied a large part of her day, and it contained all her possessions dearest prized, which were neither numerous nor of much intrinsic value. An old grey Tam-o'-shanter cap, also concealed under the shawl, completed what was to be a travelling dress. For Sheelah at length stood on the brink of flight from the house where she had spent nearly a dozen years, and more than half her life. It had been a dull and lonely existence at its beet, which had ended ■- with her mother's death, when ehe was a small child) and since then it had crept along in an ever deepening groove of monotony, without any apparent prospect of emergence. The great-uncle, who was her guardian, a. morose and unsociable man, had counted for nothing as companion ; for little more had his housekeeper, she being an elderly widow of a dreary disposition, much engrossed by dyspepsia and the perusal of tracts; while a migratory series of "generals" had seldom seemed anything here or there. Its remote situation would have made the house very inaccessible to neighbours, even if their visits had not been discouraged with the utmost persistency. As it was-, hardly any one came next or nigh the place, year out and year in; Nothing save really urgent business ' could face the glumness of Sir Nigel's greeting. Almost the sole exception was Captain Hubert Axton, his only son, who"had a> military appointment at Cashelmena, whence he came driving- over in- his dog- ' cart perhaps half a ddzen' times in a twelvemonth. Now and then he would stay a few days, and these were memorable periods for the shy and silent little cousin, who regarded him with admiring awe, as an extremely brilliant apparition, absolutely unique in her experience. Jußt" occasionally/ and rather more frequently of late, he would actually make a remark to her; which impressed her as a piece of rare condescension. It sprang from 'no admiration on his part," seeing that she was, not his style in either appearance or manners; simply, he had nobody eke to speak toj and found her obviously fluttered pleasure rather amusing. But Sheelah did not , investigate his motives; she merely felt herself to , be delightfully honoured, and treasured up in her memory every word that he had said, until the slowly coming epoch of hie next visit. " . . Through the long between-while her chief source of distraction was a weekly church-going in the company of Mrs. Manders, the housekeeper. Their six miles drive on the old car which jolted to the paces of a jog-trotting horse, was enlivened for Sheelah by a nope that at Carrickmalin Church she might fall in •with the Hewitt*. They were old Mends of her mother's family, and in the brighter days of her childhood she had sometimes played with her elder contemporaries, deorge, . Bessy, and Helen. But for many years past all overtly amicable relations had been precluded by a disagreement between their father and her great-uncle. This quarrel, which involved complicated questions of land tenure, had grown in bitterness as time went on, and it was continually fomented by a .series of lingering lawsuits. If Sir Nigel had eVer bethought him that Sheelah's attendance at the bleak, bogbeset church gave her opportunities for intercourse with his detested adversaries, he would immediately have prohibited the expedition. The possibility did not, however, occur to him, perhaps because, a* he never went there himself, he had no clear picture of the congregation in his mind. Thus it continued to be an important feature of her -colourless life that she could count with some confidence on having a. little conversation with the young Hewitts among the tombstones, while ehe waited for the car. Even after Bessy and Helen had married, which despoiled these interView* of more than half their interest, Gtorge ctiH remained, and it was always blfiaaant to see him come hurrying along io-meet her, though, she could not chat him as satisfactorily 'as with his fisters. She thought him rather stupid. But the time was coming when these meetings with George Howitt were to concern her much more deeply than just as agreeahlo variations on the week's dullness. For all through the spring, ■

summer, and .autumn before this evening of her lamp-lighting, a, griin-visaged dread had grown upon her. It was caused by a change which she had observed in her great-uncle's demeanour. His chronic unamiability, hitherto of a .passive type, had suddenly assumed aa active phase. Outbreaks of violent wrath had begun to diversify his uniform eullennees, dissatisfaction with things in .general being superseded by acute anger against some person in particular — and that person was frequently Sheelab. At first she had thought that this might be a temporary, result of aggravating oir.cumstanoes, as his affairs had taken an ospecially unfavourable turn. In the first place the lagging lawsuit had (finally gone against him, entailing on him serious loss, ,and kindling to tenfold fierceness his hatred of the Hewitts. Soon after this ho had had with hia son a bitter falling out, part of which she had witnessed to her grief and dismay, and since then Hubert had not reappeared, nor even written. The blank thus made was filled up for her only too thoroughly by new and engrossing cares, as from that unfortunate visit' dated a marked change in Sir Nigel. Whether or no his. estrangement from his favourite eon did work like madness in his brain, something was clearly producing that effect upon him. He became, extravagantly and restlessly suspicious, roaming about constantly to lock and bar doors and gates. At other times, he would sit muttering to himself with threatening gestures, and once 6he saw him making these with a revolver in his hand, after which a great terror came upon her. Urged thereby, she consulted, or rather sorb to consult, Mrs. Manders on the subject, Mrs. .Manders, by the housekeeper's room fire, was eagerly spelling out the medical "Anbwera to Correspondents" in a penny weekly, arid she replied with vague inattention: "Ah, sure, the poor gentleman, what can you 1 expect him to be except ailing and oddteinpered, and he eating bacon for his breakfast, and cheese after his dinner, that's more unwholesome than so much poison. ... 'A teaspoonful of breadsoda in half a pint of weak cocoatina twice daily' — I might give that a trial easily enough." The futile old woman, absorbed in her silly anxieties, had certainly a, comic aspect, but it was not apparent to Sheelah, who turned away feeling baffled and and resourceless. A few weeks later, she found herself desgeratoly impelled, to taks a very much older step.. wintry Sunday forenoon, when she, and Mrs. Manders were starting far church, Sir Nigel informed them ■ that, it would be their last drive, as he intended to shoot old Jerry the carhonse as coon as they returned. "The brute's past: his work,'-' he said; "supposing .there was anything' rational to b» done,. which there isn't. So I'll get rid of q&e. useless consumer at any rate." ■ This, announcement filled Sheelah with dismay, for it seemed to close her only open door ;.' to abolish, her sole means of communication with the .outer world, In no;othir way would it be possible for her ever to ■ stir beyond their highballed garden; she did not see how she could so much as send a letter undetected. Wild projects ran through her mind all along th"c road to Carrickmalin, but before the service was over, she had arrive at a fixed resolve that she would confide her fears to George Hewitt. Circumstances favoured the plan, inasmuch as a heavy shower kept them. all sheltering under the lea of a yew-hedge long enough to let her tell her story with some detail, while Mrs. Manders was picking up crumbs of ecclesiastical gossip from the sexton's wife. _ George Heiritt heard the communication with much concern, and with still more perplexity, because he clearly saw the difficulty of intervening. None of the incidents related by Sheelah proved anything beyond that tyrannical bad temper, wherewith everybody has a legal right to embitter the lives of his dependents, if he be so disposed; and moreover she was an heiress under age. The situation demanded circumspect and cautious procedure. Yet it was intolerable to permit Sheelah's return to closer captivity defenceless and unaided. What seemed to be most urgently needed was the establishment of some method by which she could summon him, should occasion arise, and after reflecting briefly Tief said : "Do you know there is a good view of your house from Glascool cross-roads? ..1 come along that way every evening; and I often see the light* in 'the windbws. .. Couldn't you put a special light somewhere— say in the little window over the porch, if you wanted me any, time? • Then you may be sure 1 would run. up to; you at once, and just carry you home safely to my mother." And jipon. that- understanding they had parted. ■ '_And now on this rainy, midwinter night her signal-lamp was burning. The access of terror which had caused her to kindle it had been roused by the unusual ferocity of her great-uncle's demeanour earlier in the day. He had begun it badly by shooting his own wateu-spaniel.' Fringes, formerly a valued possession, and he had gone about all the morning revolver in hand, with a scowl which suggested to her the speculation : "It may be me next?" Thenc© there was a natural transition to..considering possibilities of escape; and having resolved upon an appeal to her only ally, she took refuge in her own. room, where she spent as much time as she j dared iv preparations for that evening's flight. Her lamp fairly lit, she looked forward to the result with much confidence. , Undoubtedly George Hewitt would come, and fulfil his promise to convey her safely away~ Glad she would be to find herself in the company of his mother, whom she remembered across several years as very kind, and sadly crippled .by. rheumatism. - But for all that, the . uppermost thought in SheeJah's mind was that she would .then be able to write to her cousin Hubert. Not a moment would • she delay about it, and perhaps Tie might answer her letter,, or even. 1 come and' see her, if he had nothing -particular to do. "It will be very wet," she said to herself, as' she heard the pattering drops, and saw -the swimming panei, "but I can't put oil my thick .shoes, for they would, make too^— " A loud* thump on her door, and a wellknown'Voice calling her, broke in upon her. meditations more terrifically than* if it had- been the crack of doom. Sir Nigel confronted her, standing on the threshold. His eyes had a glittering stare, ■ his coat was dappled with wet, and his boots were muddy. "May I enquire," he said in a high-spirited tone, "why you have put that lamp in the window over the porch V v A lamp-^-what lamp?" Sheelah said, trying vainly to face him, but involuntarily looking away. " Don't bo a lying fool. Itrfwaa blazing there when I went out to bolt the front gate. Of course I wasn't by any means meant to see it, but who is?" "Nobody at all," said Sheelah. " I suppose," said Sir Nigel quietly, "it's that young blackguard of the damnable Hewitts. I saw him skulking about in these lanes only yesterday." . " What on earth should I want with George Hewitt?" said Sheelah. " That, my dear, if just what I want to know. And so it is to bring him here?" ''Besides that, he isn't heie at all," said Sheelah. "He's away in England. <Ho went yesterday — ur lhi;» niyraiag.'"---

" Qh, very well," said Sir Nigel, suddenly grasping her by the arm, "well, come down to the hall, where you'll be on the spot to see the reception that he — or whoever it is — gets, when he arrives, from England — or the infernal regions. In the latter case, ho may go back there, perhaps, quicker than he came." With that lie- strode downstairs, so fast that Shedlah sometimes lost her footing, and • descended perforce m a. series of slips and slides. When they had thus reached the hall, ho dragged hen over- to where near the door stood a ponderous oak chair, into which' he thrust her, and before she realised what was happening, he had pinioned her securely with a long shawl-strap from the umbrella, stand, " Now, my dear girl," said Sir Nigel, "you'll sit ther» and wait comfortably, and quietly, if you're wise," he took a, revolver out of his pocket and cocked it significantly. "It- would be a pity if you were not to- the fore when your friend makes his appeaiance." His injunction . was hardly needed, Sheelah being already stricken dumb by sore affright. Moreover^ she well knew that she might shriek herself hoarse without the least chance of summoning any indoor assistance ; it could only hasten George Hewitt to his fate, if he were within earshot. He might be here now at any moment, she thought, as she saw Sir Nigel take up a position behind the half-open hall door. A gleam of Isteel showed that the revolver was in his hand. Thereupon ensued a heart-eickening pauee, the end of which she desired and dreaded. All through it the tall grandfather's clock cloee beside her wagged an unperturbed pendulum. Bitterly did she hate its wheezy tick, because it mingled with the throbbing of her pulsea, and would blur the far-off sounds which her ears were strained to catch. Shortly before this time, Sheelah's cousin, Captain Hubert Axton, was having a gossip with Mrs. Byrne, the SroprietreEs of a small "public" on the nehelmena-road, near Glascool Cross. He waa bound for hie father's house, circumstances connected with unremunerative backing of steeplechasers having made it expedient that he should renew the amicable, relations which had been broken off so many months ago by Sir Nigel'e obstinacy about the selling out of certain stocks. Ac a violent flurry of rain and wind drove him to seek shelter for himself and his beast on JVlrs. Byrne's premises, and as she was an old acquaintance, he naturally beguiled the time of his detention by discourse with her about local aifairs. "It's, a long while since we've seen your Honour goin' this way," Mrs. Byrne began with genuine regret ip, her tone. The captain was well liked for his good looks and pleasant speeches. "Oh, I've been aoroad most of the time," he answered quite untruthfully, "and how has the world gone on without meY" "Sure, much the way it does be ever, captain ; some folk gett-in' christened, and some get tin' buried, and some few gettin' married, but bedad they don't be very plenty these times." '•'An, well, there's reason for tha^, Mrs. Byrne; Glascool can't be such a place for picking up a pretty girl as it was in your day." 'LA good many uglier than me there was married in it, to be sure," Mi's. Byrne said, with frank. self-complacency. "But little enough talk I hear about any such thing this while back, unless it might be up at your Honour's own place." "Why, what's going on there, -Mrs. Byrne?' said-hiis- Hon'tMir Burprieed.' 1 '" " "Well now, sir, a notion we have that young Mi 4 . Hewitt's thinkin' of Mis» Sheelah. Leastwise he would be havin' great ducooree wid her, comin* out of church on a Sunday and since she's hindered of goin', the crathur, by raison of the ould horse bein' done away wid, he does be hangin' about at the cross below there of an evening, and lookin' up at the house, like as if he was waitin' for something so 'I'm told, your Honour." "I shouldn]t i wonder if you were told a lot of unmitigated nonsense," the captain said curtly, and soon afterwards took his leave. Mis. Byrne's bit of gossip impressed him disagreeably. He had always been accustomed to think of an alliance with his cousin and her £500 a year -as a last resource, if his pecuniary difficulties became urgent, which just at present they threatened to do. Therefore he did not at all, like the prospect of his plans being made impossible by Bheelahs marriage with another person. "Probably the whole story's an idiotic lie," he thought. "However, I must find out whether there's anything in it, and put a stop to it at once if there seems to be. Of course, the tiresome little fool would wait for me any length of time, supposing I had to make some sort of engagement, but I'd find her an infernal nuisance — deuce take it all !" At the cross-roads he stopped to light a final cigarette. Almost simultaneously somebody coming from the direction of Carrickmalin halted just opposite him/ where there was a gap in the tall hedge. The darkness prevented him from seeing who it was, but he immediately recognised the voice, which exclaimed with excitement, "She's lighted it!" "George Hewitt, by Jove!" said Captain Axton, "and now he's floundered across the ditch as if the Devil was after him — he's running up the field. \t looks uncommonly like some sort of signal; I ■never saw one of our windows blazing that way before. There may be something in the old woman's story after all. ... However, if so, I can easily get in ahead of the young ass, for the field way's nothing of a short cut. Come along, Gilpin, I'll have to put a spoke in his wheel." As ho trotted briskly on, the Captain felt rather pleased than otherwise at this turn of affairs. The relating of his j suspicions seemed likely to prove a convenient means of breaking the ice after hie last stormy interview with his father, and the discomfiture of George Hewitt, supposing that h» did make his appearance, could not fail to be highly entertaining and agreeable. It seemed to Sheelah as if many hours must have passed, before.' borne on rainy gusts; a sound began to grow distinct, until at length 6he knew that somebody was coming -on horseback. She had never thought that George Hewitt would ride, and she wondered — as though it | were any matter now— whether" ho had jumped the locked gato. The trampling stopped, and t>he heard the rider dismount with a splash. Steps sounded eutside in the porch, and steps from within went to meet them. Next, a little click smote on her heart, and a sharp crack filled the whole world, followed by a shout, not from George Hewitt, and a fall crashing on the flag stones. Sir Nigel's voice having cried fearfully, "Hubert — my GodL" there was another .report, a gasping struggle, and again a fall. Whereupon darkness swept down over her, and she knew no more. Only a few minutes later, George Hewitt, who had narrowly escaped being run down by a riderless horse, galloping wildly away from the houße, almost stumbled over two bodies lying prone on tho threshold. Sir NigeJ and his son were both stone dead. For some time George believed that life had also fled from the v'wl, who was huddled so helplessly mi the chair j but she soon recovered to coueciousuebs. Many davfc went by eie Sheelah fully recovered fiom the bhock that she hail sustained. Yet her lesturatiou was un- , doubtedly accelerated by, an incidtat,

which, at first sight, would appear little likely to produce any euch effect. By some bungling inadvertence the coroner at the inquest read aloud an unposted letter, which had been found in Captain Axton's pocket, and which thus came to be taken down, in extenso by a reporter for the columns of various daily papers. One of these, to complete the series of indiscretions, was left lying about bo that Sheelah found it, and, horribly fasciuated, read through the whole account of the proceedings. Her cousm Hubert "» letter was addressed to an intimate friend on the subject of certain embarrassing debts, and part of it ran as follows : "If the worst comes to the worst, I shall be driven to marry Sheelah Finlay, the most arrant little bore in Ireland, a prospect to which, as you may suppose, I don't look forward with any rapture. In fact, lam putting oft the evil day as long as I can. in hbpeß that something more tolerable may turn up." With the perusal of these words, & wait of indignation unprecedented in Sheelah'e experience, swept scorching through all her most cherished memories, and a great many of them, being stuff not less flimsy than sentimental fancies, or deluded sillinesses, were quick to flutter away in mere clouds of ashes and dust. Her thoughts wero thus left, fret, as they had never been before, to appreciate the loyal devotion which George Hewitt had hitherto refrained from overtly offering her only because he somehow knew that her wishes had turned otherwhere. Now, eince he no longer kept silence, and she no longer was deafly preoccupied, they soon came to an understanding, which resulted in a, marriage happy enough to make those grim years under Sir Nigel's roof seem like an old, dismal* dream that had culminated in nightmare horror, and ended in relieved awakening amid the cheerful light of day.