CHAPTER V.

Hawera & Normanby Star, Volume I, Issue 2, 17 April 1880, Page 1 (Supplement)

CHAPTER V.

OPINIONS. Our thoughts give to our deeds their births It is the brain that mores the hand; Our form is but a clod of earth, Moved at the spirit's strong command.

Neither Victor nor Walter spoke unti^ they had crossed the fern gaily, and were again on Fair View Hill, where they -had 'lunched. Herethey haltedolose tothe basket wMch held the aeanthophis. The scene had completely changed. The stillness of the air had caused the heavy folds of smoke to settle down upon the valley of Grit, and the town was now shrouded in a thick haze, through which could be seen dark columns of Bmoke, marking where the engine chimneys were' belching forth their vapour; The sun- was .low down in the western horizon!, and had the appearance of a huge copper ball. It wa9 a strange, weird, mystic scene, and impressed the two young men with awe and a vague dread, for wMoh it would be difficult for them to give the reason. Man ever sympathises with the aspects of nature. " I warned you," said Walter, " that it would be dangerous to visit the Regans. You ought to know by this time that Dan is not to be interfered with. Rose is his pet, and he cannot believe you intend well, neither do I, Victor ;> and although we are old and dear friends, let me tell you, I have no sympathy with the profligate and ■ the seducer. God knows," added Walter, with feeling, "I should not, for have I not suffered?"

"You are most { aggravating," replied Victor. "Ton are so prudish, that if you see a fellow pay the slightest attention, not at all serious, to a pretty girl, you at once judge there is liaison. Remember the motto, 'ffoniaoi,' &c." "Remember, Victor," said jWalter^Jn^tv low voice, " what my mother^my pisteryand myself suffered .when^Alice — poor Alice! — fajlj.nnfl lot ♦hat Itoap yon from, tka deadlysin of compassing an innocent girl's ruin. I conf ess I sympathise with Dan, and I feel that, if I met Alice's destroyer, I would shoot him dead, and no jury would convict me." "Taking the law in one's hands is a dangerous thing," muttered Victor, not looking Walter in the face. "I would not care," replied Walter. " You know how I worked for Alice ; how dearly I loved her. There was a time when I thought my deareßt wish would be realised— that she .would have become your wife, and. thus our affection would have been cemented by relationship." "It was not to be," said Victor, still averting his eyes. ' "Then think, Victor," urged Walter,. " that Heaven marks with vengeance the' man who leads others into perdition. He may not meet Ms punishment for a time> but in the end .retribution will overtake him. The avenger of blood ever follows the wicked." Victor laughed. How melodious that laugh was ; how it echoed through the woods like a strain of music. "You've mistaken your vocation, Walter," said he ; " you should have taken orders. And. you believe in Providence, in heaven, in hell, in an after life, and all that kind of superstition ? I should hare thought your reading of the modern philosophers cured you of these absurdities long. ago. You know I don't believe in anything." " I do,"- replied Walter, "but I think your present belief, if it can be so called, is only the result of youth— of reading without judgment. Darwin and Tindall have perverted you— when you grow older you will find the necessity for belief. You are the type, I am sorry to say, of a large number of the rising generation." " Nonsense, Walter," replied Victor. II Why, four-fifths of the men you meet, old and young, don't < believe in what you oall religion, what I dub superstition— the mere transmitted instinct of anoestors ages ago, 'who deified what ibex., did not comprehend, and they were but babes. „ Proctor's essay on transmitted terrors and instinots disposes of superstition."

< " Well, Victor," said Walter, « it is useless to argue with you just now. If your mother cannot instil a reverence for God into you, the task is too great for me. But the time will come, when death has grasped you, when yon will feel the want of a God."

> " Pshaw 1 " cried Victor ; " you wrong me with your nonsense. My oreed is that of the majority of the, modern world. I know not whenoe I came, whither! go ;, but this Ido 'know— -that I live, and that wißdom is to make the best of this world, to enjoy love and pleasures while. the fire of youth burns in my veins,- and to replace them by avarice and ambition when the' fervour of manhood 'has faded intothe ash of age. In the words, (Walter, of the sohgil wrote, my oreed is :— Man's life is a riffc in Eternity's cloud, ". ; - Through whiah brightly the son of existence is i beaming; ' * 'A moment it shines, soon eclipsed by the shromd, And ends in a slumber in which there's no dreaming. . ' • ' ' " .

Then let us enjoy the brief gleam, , As its radiance a second 'surrounds «s : Nor life's pleasures frivolities deem, Por the Grave from its bright regions bounds us.

, " The philosophy of Epioutas," said Walter; " the philosophy that lands us at .sixty .without, a past to look back to with pleasure, or a future :to look for ward to with .hope.. VanitasyVanitatit / "

■ "It is the philosophy of youth— bright, 'golden youth," laughed r Victor, joyously, his curls, " that thinks , only of tojday, and dreads no morrow; for sufficient for >the day is the pleasure thereof," and his splendid voice awoke the echoes as he sang:~ Theysajr there are sorrow and want, woe and paia, ' Andftd»riatooomewheaaUpl*a«srewillpalluj| 'Then all the more reason, and all the mora Rain } To (rail all life's flowers before these befall v ! 0 ! Than let n* enjoy the brief gleam, , ;< AsiteradianoeAaMondsuroundsus: It, For fb« Stave mm tts trJght'retfons brant* «sl

11 You're singing finely, me gintleman," said a woman, dressed in black, who had just oome up ; " bat if Din was here yon wouldn't be so merry." , Both turned round with a start.

The intruder was a small woman, with a pinched, dark faoe, jdeoidedly Hibernian in feature.

" Who are you t " asked Walter.: "I'm Bose's married sister, 3 ' was the reply; "an* as I was crossing the ranges home I heard that scamp singing. If he valued his bones he'd keep away from here, for our Dan swears hs'll give him if he eatehes him. He'll make you sing another tone, my pretty boy, if yon don't kape at home. There, jojit think over that, and remember what Pan's sister, Norah Byan, told ye." ' . And the woman walked, away, looking baok when she got awdistMM off, and laughing Bareaitioally. ' :

44 Well," said Tietor, th* nearest approach to a scowl he could muiter op appearing on his faoe, " they're a cantankerous crew, and make asmnoh of Bose as if she were something extra, Upon my soul, if s enough to make a fellow give them reason to talk, the vain, proud devils,"

" Well," said Walter, " the sooner we start the better. Art yea going to take the basket with you?" Vertainly," said Tiotor. "Lei us see whether the gentleman with the fangs is stirring." i He tapped the basket two or three times, and was ultimately rewarded with a rustle, and the stroke of the serpent's head at the' side of the basket. ; " You won't get me to; help yon, anyhow," said Walter,- looking at the basket, with abhorrence plainly marked on his face.' " I don't want your help," said Viotor ; V the basket's light • enough. Lat as be going, for the Ban will be down before we get to Grit." It was a weary trudge to the town in the twilight, :but Victor appeared quite lighthearted, and sprang over obstacles as if he had not>walked a step all day. Walter fell into a reverie,' and] in thoughts of his studies and the future, forgot the- exciting incidents of the day;. As they entered Grit the sun had vanished behind the banks of .haze in the west, and the horizon was of a coppery hue. The interregnum of darkness was not to last I long, for, just as they reached the end of the Golden Gully road, and saw the shoplights, a silvery radiance suffused the eastern sky, and, as they began to descend into town, the full, brpad, augußt orb of the moon was, so to speak, evolved from the haze of smoke that hung upon the horizon, and her lovely light soon poetised and refined the striking scene. It was a strange alteration. Grit, in her light, made another and a more lovely picture than when eradiated by the sun. "How beautiful,howrefined,how suggestive of dreams!" said Walter, stopping for a moment to drink ia the loveliness of the scene.

"Dreams!" replied Viotor. "Yes," he added, in an abstract tone, "it reminds me of my dream. Pahaw ! this is silly." " What iB ?" queried Walter.

" Nothing, nothing," said Victor, hastily. "Let' a get along, for I've to call- upon Matthews, the carpenter." ! "What for?" asked Walter. JLJ^Tp^giyft;pkde_wj4^ ninx tooomejover-to-morrow and make a case 'for the deathadder," replied Victor. " What have they got at the theatre to-night?" "'" ' Lucrezia Borgia,' with Zanoni as the 'Duchess, Lucy Chambers aa Orsini, and Eosnati as Gennaro." "Capital," said Viotor. "Will you go?" "I have to, aa a critic," replied Walter. •"Well, here's Matthews' place," said Victor; "I'll go in and do my business." , "Will I wait for you?"

"No," said Victor; "get home to your tea. I'll be at the Princess at half-past seven, or thereabouts. So lone." " So long." And the comrades parted.