LOVE’S BOND MAID

Hawera Star, Volume XLVI, 11 August 1926, Page 8

LOVE’S BOND MAID

By May Wynne.

Author of “For Faith and Navarre,” ‘‘Mistress Cynthia,” ‘‘The Spendthrift Duke,” etc., ete.

CHAPTER IV,

The next day was dull hut line, and with great preparations Mrs GreshamBrowne set out for her fishing, her nose tilted a little scornfully in the air, lor morning light had not revealed the guests of the “Goat and Compasses in anv favourable light, and, after all, fishing for fish is dreary enough sport to a woman of Airs’ Gresham-Bro'wne s type. As for Muriel, she had never thrown a fly in her life, and, aftci ha\ ing entangled her line* half a dozen times in the overhanging branches of a tree, and nearly sprained her foot; m clambering over the boulders strewn along the river bank, she left her rod to fish by itself, wedged in between two fragments of granite, whilst she wandered oil' into the woods to gather flowers and wild strawberries. It was a delightful day, in spite of its sunlessnoss, and Muriel was enjoying her solitary ramble to the full, when a splash and a scream in the river behind sent her scurrying back to the. bank. first thought had been that Alts Gresham-Browne must have fallen in, but a ciiiidk glance showed her a trim figure, in blue linen, rushing towards her, screaming frantically as it stumbled along. “ Cheek v. 'Cheeky, my p-preeious pet,” wailed Cheeky's mistress in heartfelt distress, and Muriel, following the direction of her out-stretched hand, saw a small wisp of struggling fur being carried, rapidly .down stream. “My poor darling,” screamed Airs Gresham-Browne. “I suppose —” She hesitated a moment, her feelings for the aggressive little York by no means strong enough to risk a watery grave on his behalf. But the current had swept the little, creature close to the bank at her feet, and, leaning forward, she made a clutch. \

She succeeded in catching Cheeky, but the bank was steep and she had leant oyer too far. For a moment she swayed, striving to recover her balance whilst she dropped the dripping dog on the bank behind her; but it was useless, and with a little cry she fell forward into the stream, just as Airs Gresham-Browne rushed to catch her.

‘ ‘ Help, help, ’ ’ screamed Airs GreshamBrown e, and to do her justice she even forgot the gasping Cheeky, who lay half drowned on the grass. “ She ’ll be drowned, she’ll be drowned.” And, indeed, there seemed to be every chance of it, for the water was deep just here and the current strong as it rushed on towards the falls whose low, booming roar could be heard in the dist ir.ee. Airs Gresham-Browne was not of the stuff whereof heroines arc made, ar-d all she attempted to do ivus to lift up her voice and scream as she savwthe struggling girl being- swept out into mid-stream.

“How dreadful, how dreadful,” she sobbed. “It’s no use, she can’t be saved, she must be drowned,” and she collapsed on to the grass, closing her eyes in nervous horror from the terrible sight of that pale, ■

So it was that she did not sec a boat shoot out from the trees immediately in front of the white, drifting figure, or note the skill with which its single occupant steered his craft against the stream till he could stoop and clutch at iho white dress. It was an instant of peril, but the man in the boat knew the river, knew her moods, too, and where the eddies ran swiftest. He had riippec. into the water now, and with one arm round Aluriel had struck out for vho shore, whilst the boat, Caught iji twhirlpool he had avoided, went '-•areering on towards the falls and destruction. Even now the waters wore hot minded-to be baulked of their prey, and it was a grim battle that the swimmer had to light, hampered as lie was by the unconscious girl on his arm.

The woman on the bank had seen them, and even forbore to scream as she stood watching, .whilst the colour Came back to her cheeks and her eyes sparkled with excitement, for Mrs Gresham-Browne knew that the man before her was fighting for his own life, which he had risked for this other. In Inn- heart she could have almost envied Muriel when at last, with a desperate effort, he had reached the bank. “fthe'is not dead?'’ she asked, with hated breath, for Muriel looked white and lifeless enough as she lay on the ground. The man—she had already noted that he was young, good-looking, and evidently a gentleman—stooped down and lifted the little limp hand. “No,” he said, panting with exhaus : lion. “She has only fainted; we must carry her home.” He looked across at Mrs GreshamBrowne as he spoke. “We are staying at the ‘Goat and Compasses,’” she explained. “Two miles at least,” he said, speaking more easily. “Wo must carry her to the. Castle,* it’s not more than half a mile from lure.”

“Can’t we (rail someone to help?” suggested Mrs Gresham-Browne anxiously. “You look as if you were going to faint yourself.” He laughed. “No fear of that, but I forgot, here’s my flask—a little brandy would help to restore your friend as well as myself.”

He knelt as he spoke and poured a few drops of the spirit between Muriel ’s lips, but she did not swallow it. “The sooner wo get her home the better,” he said, rising. “I’m not much of a doctor, but I’m afraid it’s a bad faint.”

“I’m no good in illness,” murmured Mrs Gresham-Browne. “I get so terrified over anything like this. Please let us make haste; it would bo so dreadful if she were- really dead, after all.” The stranger stooped’ and’ lifted the unconscious girl in his arms. ‘ You are not related?” he asked, and there was the faintest twinkle borne of her ingenuous words- in his eyes. “Oh, no, not at all, she is my companion. Most extraordinary thing, too, that I should have spoken of insuring her later on—it is always the way, I have noticed again and again. If I had insured her, I don’t suppose it would have happened.” He did not reply. Certainly he could not have felt faint, judging* from the way in which he strode forward. - Mrs Gresham-Browne, having almost to run to keep pace with him, actually had no breath left to lament her possible liabilities over the accident or her concern for both Muriel and Cheeky, the latter of whom lay crumpled up into a shivering ball of terror in her arms. “Here we are,” said the young man at length, as they came in sight of an old grey building, ivy-grown and battlemented, looking down upon them from a tir'-clnd crag.

“Aunt Elseph will know what to do J 9 ' Mrs Gresham-Browne was looking at him with renewed interest. Evidently ho ‘belonged’ here, and it was certainly a verv charming place. The adventure began to interest her more pleasan “Aunt Elsepth will know what to aged lady, of severe aspect and plain attire who softened into a kindlier mood when she saw what was required of her She paid little heed, it is true, to Airs Gresham-Browne, but she delayed not a minute m having Muriel after rubbing her hands and feet, applying ' hot water bottles and succcedearriod off to ber own room, whore, inf in forcing a little brandy down her throat, she was restored to conscious: IU Bv the time this was accomplished, however, Aunt Elspcth was thoroughly interested in her patient, and insisted that it was absolutely impossible dor her to be allowed to get up that, day and return to the inn. “She’s inclined to be feverish and light-headed,” 1 she said with decision, “and if she’s to be saved from a bad illness, poor lassie, she’s best left where she is.”

Now this was exactly what Mrs Gresham-Browne desired, but having already arranged her plans in her astute mind she now proceeded to demur. She would be so anxious about her, feeling her responsibilty to the poor child, and besides, not being well, and with nerves shaken after such a temblo fright, the latter would naturally feel being left alone with strangers. Aunt Elspcth looked a little grim, but Scottish hospitality could do no less than extend the invitation to this overanxious friend. Airs Gresham-Browne gashed forth profuse thanks, and hnally it was arranged, that a boy should be dispatched to the “Goat and Com•passes 9 ’ with a note to from her mistress to say what she would want “just for the night,” as she took care to explain. , Her end attained, Airs GreshamBrowne descended to the hall foi tea, leaving Aluriel to sleep off her fever and her fright under the care of a rugged-faced old Scotch woman, whose Gaelic was unintelligible to ignorant Sassenach ears. ,

It was rather an unique situation, but Airs Gresham-Browne was more than equal to it. She introduced herself with a smillfng assurance of welepme, and was in turn introduced to the head of the house, Sir Colin 'Carndalc, a handsome, wcll-sct-up old Scotchman ox the true, ancient breed, Aunt Elspcth proving to be his maiden daughter and housekeeper, and ‘ ‘ the hero of the hour ” as Mrs Gresham-Browne laughingly called him, his only grandson, David Grey. Before tea was over Airs GreshamBrowne was thoroughly at home, though perhaps- her sprightly gaiety was a little too pronounced in Elspcth. Garndalo’s eyes, seeing what. anxiety she had apparently been suffering from only half an hour ago.

But Airs Gresham-Browne was not concerned with the opinions of greyhaired Miss Elspcth, or even with the handsome grandson. All her forces were concentrated at present upon the lord of the castle, and old Sir Colin’s blue eyes glinted with amusement at the brilliance of this unexpected guest’s sallies. The old man’s laugh rang out genially in response to this vivacious little lady who entertained him so gaily with her anecdotes, for in liis young days lie, too, had travelled, and his keen, blue eyes, lighted up as lie recalled place after place to which she referred. Miss Elspcth had never travelled, so the conversation of Airs GreshamBrowne did not interest her.

Presently she rose, murmuring something about [going to sec the patient. If it was a hint, Mrs Gresham-Browne did not take it. She was leaning back in a quaintly carved old chair, which framed her pretty figure daintily enough, relating an amusing-adventure with brigands near Capri. Nevertheless, she was quite aware that the gaunt figure in lavender alpaca had left her mistress of the situation, since David, had gone out with the dogs some time before. Mrs Gresham-Browne was now preparing for her campaign. It was a long way from sunny Capri to bleak Scotland, yet she fluttered back to it without the slightest apparent irrcvclanec.

“I have really been regretting that I did not trot, off to Italy or Austria again this summer,” she sighed, her pink finger-tips pressed together at her lips with a pensive gesture. “But I have always longed so to see Scotland, and friends told me that I should quite fall in love with Glenarren.”

' The sight became more pronounced. “Well.” he demanded, ready to be in arms against disparagement of-liis land, “and are von not so?” She found his faint Scottish accent fascinating.

She made the slightest of grimaces—a mono; she would have termed it. “With Glenarren, yes, but not with the ‘Goat and Compasses.’ I confess lam not fond, of ‘roughing’ it, and the food is perfectly abominable, whilst as for attendance or any other convenience, they are absolutely at a discount. Muriel Arm it age, my little friend upstairs, quite agreed with me, that a week would be the utmost limit of our endurance, in spite of our admiration for the locality.”

Ho looked across at her shrewdly. “You’re the first I’ve heard to make complaint of the ‘Goat and 'Compasses’,” said he. “Some friends of ours wore there last year and enjoyed themselves very well. ’ ’ “Some friends of mine recommended me,” she replied. “I think the inn must have gone down since then, for I know the MacGregors are very particular as a rule.’’

“The MacGregors! And do ye know them then—. John MacGregor of Demskerry? Ah, he’s an old friend of mine, *pr rather his father before him—’/Canny Jqhn ’as we called him. We Were school chums together in the old Jlays, and many a game and many a |)rank we had together.” ’ ‘The .world’s a small place after all,” \>aid Mrs Gresham-Browne with a smile; Y .Tam- MacGregor and I arc the greatest of friends. I am sure she will be most sad to hear how uncomfortable: we have been.” “I wanted them to come and stay at the Castle,” said Sir Colin, “but they arc independent folk, and I think they preferred the inn and some motoring friends of theirs who used, to be the terror of the countryside.” ■ She laughed incredulously. “How extraordinary—to prefer that ramshackle Old inn even Avitk motoring.”

“Perhaps now ye’ll not agree with her taste? If not we shall be very well pleased and honoured if you and your friend will stay with us till the end of your visit'?’’ he said, capitulating before the charm of his companion and ignoring the suspicion that she had been hinting for the invitation. Mrs Grcsham-Browne was smiling her sweetest across at him—there was no doubt that she was an attractive woman. “Oh, we could not trespass on your hospitality like that,’’ she gushed. “You have been too good already to mere strangers.’’ “If ye’re friends of the MacGregors ye mustn’t count yourselves strangers to me,’’ he replied heartily. “And if ye care to come the pleasure’ll be on our side. She accepted then with such genuine delight that her liost forgot the slight qualm he had experienced when he thought of Elspeth. (To be continued.)