A MERE SCRATCH.

Hawke's Bay Herald, Volume 11, Issue 818, 15 January 1867, Page 3

A MERE SCRATCH.

IN EIGHT CHAPTERS.-— CHAPTER V.

(From " All the Tear Round" for Ootobeir.} The day was very young indeed when pretty Esther, bright and fresh as the morn herself, stole out of her h'ttlechambeiy and, thanks to instructions received overnight, made her way out into the beautiful gar- . dens for which Gosling Grajze had long been renowned. She was to leave at eight, before which hour Sir George seldom c^uitt ed his room, and thus the young lady calculated that she might enjoy a ramble in the gardens, if not a short run in the woods, with- . out attracting the notice of her host.'

But she reckoned without that host.

She tripped gaily on, across the lawns, up one walk, down another, trying to lose her way in that, to her, enchanted labyrinth, and almost dancing in the buoyancy of spirit which a fair morning, lighting" up lovely things, commonly brings to the young. For a moment she sat down on a rustic seat, now she peeped into an arbour, now lingered beside a crystal spring, and caught the liquid diamonds as they glittered forth. Passing up a path shaded with laurel and arbutus, she approached what appeared to be a garden" more private than the rest. It was, however, guarded only by a light wire fence. The gate was open, and a flush of roses beyond proved too tempting. Esther glided in. It comprised about half an acre, and was filled with rose trees. It .was the famed rose-pleasance of Gosling" Graize, pride and solace of many a defunct Dame Gosling, and fruitful source of heart-burning among all gardeners of the district whose hearts were in their office.

Rose time was past, but a few varieties were yet in bloom, and Esther, whose' passion was a rose, examined them with delight. One, just attaining perfection, turned its glowing face towards her. She gathered it tenderly.

" When I die," she said aloud, "may the last of God's beautiful works I see — except the dear human face — be one of you P }

" Who comes into the giant's garden at cock-crow to steal his favourite roses ?" said a voice of assumed ferocity, as the speaker, looking as unlike Cormoran or Blunderbbre as a handsome youth might, issued from a treliised arbour artfully concealed in an angle of the pleasance.

Esther uttered a startled exclamation, and, in catching back her hand, scratched it somewhat smartly with a thorn.

" I am the.unluckiest fellow in the world," exclaimed the giant, at once contracting into the ordinary dimensions, "in practical jokes ! See, now, what I have done ! My savage kinsman, Hurlo-Thrumbo the Threeheaded, could do no more than shed your blood. Let me assist you, I beg."

The hand had to submit, and afforded George an opportunity of noticing what we have iearned already : — that it was a pretty hand, but one that had riot spared itself in the battle of life, and now accepted the thorn-scratch with the indifference of a

veteran

Esther thanked him, and murmured some excuse for her intrusion.

" My clear young lady, not a word," said the baronet. "It was by the merest chance — :i fortunate one for me — that I rose so early, and wandered hither ; a corner precious to my sister, but which I rarely visit. I observe," he continued, " that you called me by my name. Was that a guess ?"

" Not quite. I saw you last night, for a moment on the stairs." " You knew me then ?" "I — I had been looking at your picture," said Esther, hastily. "But, indeed, I might more properly ask, how do yoti know me ?" she added, laughing to cover her embarrassment.

"I — I had been questioning my butler," replied Sir George, with affected hesitation. " Come, Miss Vann, since the giant has a fancy for retaining you in his den (though without, I do assure you, any culinary purpose), let him do what he may to atone for the detention, by showing you the treasures of his garden." Sir George looked at his companion, Esther was without a bonnet, and the burnished hair, in its smooth bands, was the sole protection to the little shapely head, well set upon a white and not too slender neck. Her countenance betrayed a rare mixture of firmness and sensibility. Her mouth and chin might have been cut in stone, so inexorable was their expression ; while, on the other hand, her ready colour, moistening eye, and an occasional quick nervous movement in conversing, betrayed the excitability of a nature that must have attained the self-government Esther usually displayed.

She wore a dress of poor material, with here and there, a neat though palpable darn, but adapting itself perfectly to her little, faultless figure, and set off with' collar and wristbands like the driven snow.

It would seem that Sir George speedily forgot his promise concerning the flowers ; oddly enough, Miss Yann appears to have forgotten it also. Certain it is that, -without any pretence of visiting the choice parterres, the two strolled on, from walk to walk 1 , in a state of perfect contentment. It would be difficult to say which had been the more surprised. Expecting in Esther a half-edu-cated girl, whom a few polished remarks, made in an easy, patronising way, would more than satisfy, perhaps instruct, the baronet found himself engaged with one whose information seemed fully equal to his own, in whose taste he could detect no flaw, and whose modes of expression, singularly terse and clear, were wholly free from those conventionalities which are frequently indicative of superficial education.

As for Esther, the more she listened to her companion's discourse, the more overpowering became her amazement that a nature so refined should have been prompted to seek such an association as that which impended ! Good soul as she knew her aunt to be, Esther's taste and judgment had long since convinced her that the worthy woman was not above, if indeed she might not be considered a shade below, the station to which she belonged. Could there be some misconception ? Or was it an idle jest?" The latter theory did not seem to harmonise with Sir George's character and bearing. Was one or other of the parties wad? If so, which? ,: " Why did you look at me in that quick way?" asked George, abruptly, but with a smile. . '; ■/■•■•' "Did I?" said Esther,, caught in , fact. •.; ■"■ •' ••' •-■■'.:.- .: : .:-'.--.;.'7 - -50i " Yes, more than once ; and as.ldQin^|S remember," continued George, _**flti^^^

■observations were, in either instance, of a .startling character, hence my curiosity. You must have discovered by this time that I am a tame and civil-spoken monster, and : can have no serious misgivings on that score. Cotae, Miss Vann, something prompted that quick movement. You hesitate ? Then I proceed to guess. You have been debating in your mind whether there is not in my family a slight taint of — of insanity— " Esther coloured. "—and endeavouring" continued George, " to detect some evidence of it in my face ?" •rV ,;, The blush deepened. '. •' . "An eloquent answer," said the young man, laughing. "Now tell me, Miss Vann, is it, or is it not, incumbent on us to observe a solemn pledge ?" "How can you ask?" " At hazard of everything ?" "Yes,, at " Esther made a sudden pause. A thought, suggested she hardly knew how— -most probably by a remark she. had heard overnight — flashed across her mind. "He has had a love-quarrel with — with the lady they spoke of, at the Haie. This absurd proposal to my aunt was made in pique and passion. Wrong- — foolishcruel to all three !" •* You don't answer me," said George. "Nor do you need the assurance of a nursery-governessj" said Esther, rather, spitefully, ; "that every promise should be kept, unless — unless " "What?" « — cancelled by its wicked rashness." "I stipuld have said, a deliberate promise." " There is a deliberation in passion itself." Baid Esther. "I spoke, of course, of that rashness which wilfully blinds itself to former obligations, inconsistent with the new." "But if the penalty of such doing attached only to oneself — — " "It would be simply what we deserve." " Only, it rarely does," said George. "Rarely," said Esther. "That's the worst of it," said George. " The worst," assented Esther. They walked on in silence for a few moments, following their respective trains of thought. Esther's: "Poor, rich, unhappy man! A whole life of regret, remorse, and mortification, for perhaps one moment's anger! Two happy, beautiful lives spoiled, a third not benefited, Jot what happiness could poor dear old aunt find in a position so false as this? What a fate for each? Can nothing be done? Nothing?" And the girl's heart swelled with genuine compassion as she glanbed at the fortunate descendant of twenty-five generations walking at her side. The musing of George : " She would have me pause. Now, why ? From pity ? What interest can she have in my individual self to outweigh the advantage, to her, of the connexion ? Stay, now ; is this possible ; Can the old wo r" (George shuddered, as he checked the epithet in. his mind) — Si can she have reflected on, the absurd auoZDaly of such an union, and, hy way of experiment, cast this fair temptation in my way ? In that case, my vow compels me to accept it. She is not a Mildred" (he sighed), " but, at all events, an Esther, fair, sweet, and, if I am not mistaken, singularly lovable. Not an atom of vulgarity, no false refinement, no pretence. Ah, if ifc be so. The good old creature !" thought George, glowing with gratitude for the supposed reprieve, " the faithful old cook ! The sacrifice is noble. It invests her whole fraternity with a dignity of which one would not have conceived it susceptible. Now, the question is " "It is time for me to return, Sir George," said Esther, at this moment slopping short. "Our progress shall end among those myrtles," said George, pointing onward. " There will be little made of verbs and pronouns," returned Esther laughing, "if I am notathome by school-time, ten o'clock." On her turning to go back, like one accustomed t to have her own way, Sir George had to yield. They had scarcely made a step or two, when Esther, seeming to take a sudden resolution, abruptly addressed him. "Sir George, I wish to do you an essential service. I have heard that you have made an offer of marriage to my aunt. Do you forget that she is your cook ?" " I by no means forget that she has been. • If — if she is my intendedwife," said George, " the situations are incompatible." "You reply so frankly, that I am encouraged to continue my catechism," said Esther, with the beaming smile with which she was wont to reward a promising pupil. " Do you think she will prove a better wife than cook ?" " Scarcely possible," said George, laughing. "Do you consider her a fitting wife for yourself? How will your sister receive this news ?" " That alone is my especial affair," replied the young man, in a low voice. " You are right, sir," said Esther. " I shall presently have done with my impertinent questioning. Will you answer three times more P" " According to my usual indiscretion — yes" said George. "* - ' " Had you any thought, before yesterday, of making my aunt your wife ?" " None in the least," was the prompt reply. " Was this condescending offer the only courtship you pursued yesterday ?"' "No — I — yes — well upon the whole, no" said the catechised. "Last question —it will be long and somewhat circumstantial; but if lam wrong in the minutest particular, you are at liberty to put the whole aside unanswered. Were you not yesterday paying your addresses to a lady of your own condition, whom you believed not averse to them ? Had you not some difference with her, ending in grief and anger — at least on your side ? And was not your proposal to my aunt the offspring of that momentary passion ?" " That may be called a triangular query," replied George, smiling. "No matter. All is true. But the story is not fully told." . is told," said Esther. ' "Now, • listen to the lecture that concludes my cate- : .■• ; chising. Whatever, your motive, self, Sir .V; ,>George, was at its root. It was the act of \- ;> kbeingnaturally reasonable,- but who, cast-;l-7 ;gaidance 5^g1i|moM to the winds, wilfully himself to; the current of wrath, x. ;# J i^t:kntiwmg-— nor, for the moment, heeding g;. }jr~yksWQng or peril it may entail. BeI^.0c0&0m, have become .indifferent to the |g||y^||f^|yoWAiowix happiness, are you J^|tij|fe^^]i^46T^,the barks of .others ? gj^|^|^s{(^'%m^tiwt9'&r the slight,

whatever it be, that you have suffered at your lady's hand ? Is it intended for revenge ? If she does not love you, there is none. -If she does, will nothing less than a lifelong penitence satisfy your resentment ? What can she have done to merit that? Nay, what has my poor aunt herself done, -that her thirteen years' faithful service should be so rewarded ?" ,\ < " You speak, my dear young lady, as if it were a penalty." * "It is" replied his monitress.- "To be dragged up from a station in which she was contented, useful, and respected, to one in which she can only be a mark for ridicule and envy." "If your aunt partakes these sentiments," said the young baronet, with resignation, "far be it from me to press my claims. Does she ?" "I might reply, 'That alone is her especial affair,' " said Miss Vann. "It is quite possible that she may not yet have fully weighed the incongruities, the endless inconveniences and absurdities, of such an alliance. See, we are at the end of our walk. The last words you will ever hear from my lips shall be honest, if not agreeable. You have insulted — not honoured — your old servant by the preposterous offer you have made her. If she does not herself regard.it in that light, that is a greater reflection upon your openness than her judgment. I wish you good morning !" " A moment," ?aid George. "The last words I shall hear from your lips ? Not so, I hope. Should the marriage take place, we shall be " " Strangers," said Esther, almost fiercely. " May this foot wither if ever it passes the threshold of these gates !" The young man hesitated, and the colour rose to his brow. " Had I had such a counsellor before, my course might have been wiser. Even now," he added, "since it is not wholly certain " He stopped. " Since what is not wholly certain ?" " That my offer has been accepted." " Pardon me. As I have said, that is no affair of mine," said Esther, coldly. "Pardon me" returned George. "It may be. Condescend to hear me for an instant," he continued, noticing her impatience. " You have lectured me with some severity, but not without justice. Though undeserving of such a lot, I would fain, were it possible, retain the privilege to be so lectured when my judgment is disposed to stray. Tell me, Miss Vann — Esther, if I may call you so — should your good aunt view this matter in the same sensible and dispassionate manner as yourself, would you, or in other words, might I— to speak, in short, explicitly, should she " " When we arrive at the dominant verb," said the young governess, unable to forbear a smile, "I shall be better able to reply." * " I am not accustomed to stammer at my lessons," replied Sir George. " The consciousness of having made one grievous mistake " "Sometimes betrays one into another," said Esther. "Isit so ? Have I, then, no hope ?" "Hope, sir!" " Let me, for Heaven's sake, make myself understood. Esther, you who have penetrated the secret of my selfishness, and restored me, I hope, to better reason, will you — should your aunt's refusal leave me free —accept this hand ? Worthy of more than I can offer— — " " Worthy of more ?" interrupted Esther, turning her face upon him, and speaking in a calm, low voice. " Worthy, at least, of more than a love some minutes old — a hand pledged to one person, and offered to another — and a fortune I despise as heartily as I do the infatuation of supposing it a passport to the favour of any woman whose love is worth winning. Good Heavens, sir ; In dissuading you from the folly you were bent upon committing, do you dare to imagine that I would win you for myself? Our conference has been too long. I am obliged to you for your courtesies. Not another word is needed. Farewell !" She turned, and walked away. "Another false move," muttered George, as he gazed after her. "Shall I never regain my balance ?" He walked thoughtfully towards the house, taking, however, a different path from Esther's, but had not made many steps, when one of the under gardeners, bursting through the belt of shrubs, came running, hoe in hand, to meet him. "Redditch! what now? What's the matter ?" asked his master. The man thrust his hoe into George's hand. " Swartz — Swartz — Swartz ?" he gasped, breathlessly. "Swartz! What of him? Collect yourself, man. What do you mean ?" " He've gone mad, Sir George ! Raging wild about the garden, snapping savage at everything he come near ! Here he comes, by the Lord !" added Mr. Redditch, with a decided disposition to take to his heels. A large black object was visible, for a moment, glancing across the flower-beds, and taking a direction which, intersecting, at a right angle, the path on which they stood, would lead the infuriated beast upon Esther's track. " Stand behind me," said George. " Keep quite still. lam going to whistle. If he notices it, have no fear. A mad dog never regards his master, nor turns to signal." Mr. Redditch did not seem to relish the experiment, but he stood his ground. The black mass came bounding into the gravel-walk, some forty yards distant. George whistled sharply, and called : "Swartz— Swartz!" The animal seemed to swerve, as though recognising the summons, but next moment, with a sprawling plunge^ dashed himself through the opposing shrubs, and continued his furious way. Seriously alarmed, George set off at once in pursuit, followed by Redditch, armed, by this time, with a stout stake. At the place where the dog had made his blundering charge through the covert, beads and flakes of foam were plainly visible on the stems. It seemed but too plain that Swartz, a powerful mastiff, had become rabid. The alarm had already spread. Shouts and cries were heard from the vicinity of the stables, and thither the young man bent his'flying steps. All was evidently in commotion. "Where is he boy? Where is he?" called out George, catching by the sleeve an excited stable-boy who came rushing forth. " Oh, sir, the gun !' the gun!" cried the boy. "To my room. The first you find. Away with you. Is-^'Miss-— - -"

But the lad was already out of hearing. In the stable-yard a singular scene presented itself. Crowded in the stable windows, mounted on ladder, wall, the roofs of dog-kennels, or any other secure position, almost the whole household of Gosling Graize were assembled, watching with intense anxiety the proceedings of Swartz and a little stable-lad, the brother of him who had been despatched for the gun. The dog had penned the boy into a corner, and, though as yet without doing him any injury, lay on the ground within a yard of him, his great black head between his paws, wallowing in foam, and his blood-red eyes glaring as if each moment he were about to make a deadly spring. Why he did not, seemed to be the mystery. With the spurning of his hinder paws the animal had thrown up. a regular outwork behind hinij and it was manifest that this incessant movement was edging him nearer and nearer to his prisoner. As for the latter — a fine little boy about ten, and hitherto enjoying the most friendly relations with Swartz — he sat paralysed with terror, his blue eyes opened to their full extent, as if fascinated by the danger from which he could not escape. Attempts to drive the dog away had so evidently added to his fury, that it had been resolved to leave him alone until firearms were at hand. The young master thought differently. To his generous heart the boy's danger seemed too imminent to admit of a moment's delay. Disregarding the remonstrances of his servants, and taking no notice of a spasmodic shriek emitted, as in duty bound, by Mrs. Turnover, George walked steadily towards the crouching dog, and spoke to him in a tone of quiet, sharp command. Swartz uttered a low growl, and flung the foam from his vexed jaws, but never took his eyes from his little prisoner. "Listen, boy," said George ! "I am about to take off the dog's attention. The instant his eye is off you, use your legs." The boy's, lips moved in assent. " Come, sir, to kennel," said George, and, as he spoke, struck the hoe he carried sharply on the ground close to the dog. Quick as lightning the brute was upon him, seizing him by the leg. It was an exchange of prisoners, for, hardly less swiftly, the boy had vanished from his perilous position, and was in safety. A loud cry burst from the spectators, and two or three of the men, shamed by the urgency of the occasion, were hastening forward to their master's assistance. But he motioned them back. Though held as in a vice, George's boots had resisted the animal's teeth, and he was as yet perfectly uninjured. But what was now to be done ? A gun had been brought and charged with swanshot, but none dared use it while man and dog retained their relative positions. Neither was it possible to convey the weapon into George's hand, it being all but certain that the infuriated beast would only quit his present hold to fasten, perhaps with more fatal effect, upon the first who appv.oach.ed him. To complete the difficulties of the situation, the iron portion of the hoe had, when struck upon the ground, become detached from the handle, thus depriving George of all chance of dealing an effective blow at his dangerous assailant. At this moment Esther, prepared for departure, and astonished at the sudden solitude that seemed to reign within the house, made her appearance on the scene. A few words made her acquainted with the danger that impended over the young master of the house, and the difficulty of interposition. The girl's face became scarlet, then white as snow. Without betraying the slightest apprehension, she approached within a pace of tha dog, and, stooping slightly, strove to engage his attention. The animal's rolling eye met hers, and became fixed. He ceased to shake and mouth the object on which his fangs had closed, and George was even sensible of some relaxation of his vice-like hold. Would he spring upon the new comer ? "For God's sake," began George, trying a last appeal. "Be silent!" was Esther's only reply, her eye never quitting that of the dog. To the amazement of everybody, Swartz now displayed evident symptoms of quailing. Gradually, almost imperceptibly, he detached his teeth from George's boots. Then Esther slowly extended her hand. Swartz shrank back an inch or two, shook the foam from his jaws, and uttered a piteous whine. As if this had been a signal of surrender, the brave girl, without further hesitation, put her hand between his collar and his shaggy neck, and turned him in the direction of a vacant kennel, " close at hand. Yielding to the impulse, Swartz suffered himself to be conducted thither, and secured to the chain. But the excitement was not yet over. In turning, Esther's foot came in contact with the water-can placed there for the usual occupant of the kennel, and upset it. With the bound of a tiger, the dog instantly flew at her ; but, checked by the chain, only touched her wrist and hand sufficiently to smear them with the mucous fluid that fringed his jaws. George had recognised his fatal sign — even if the frightful appearance of the dog, reared on end, and snapping with convulsive fury at fancied objects around, had not of itself been proof sufficient. There was but one thing to do, and no time to lose in doing it. The staple that held the chain was of no great strength, and might yield before the powerful strain. He beckoned to the keeper, who put the gun into his hand. "Farewell, my brave old boy !" he said, regretfully, and fired. The foam changed to blood, and Swartz rolled over dead. " Where is Miss Vann ?" asked George, looking round for his young preserver. "In the 'ouse, I think, Sir George," said Mr. Fanshaw. " I think she got a little faintyish, Sir George. Shall I tell her you wants to see her, Sir George ?" " Do no such thing," said his master, and walked* into the house. Mr. Fanshaw took a letter from his pocket, and examined it. " There's somethin' inside o' you, I can feel," he muttered. Now, ivot? Shall I give it him now? I ort to. But, somehow, he don't seem in good cue." And Mr. Fanshaw thoughtfully followed his master.