Short Story

Lake County Press, Issue 2791, 26 June 1919, Page 7

Short Story

(By Katharine Tynan.)

[PUBLISHED &Y SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT."

A ROUGH PLAYMATE.

Michael Murphy Mas Nina Ile.seltine's dog. He was the wildest, gayest, rowdiest, most loving- of Irish terriers. ILe had faithful amber-clear, brown eyes and a nose like a wet blackberry, and he had a most youthful heart for any kind of adventure. lie and his mistress (ramped the mountain in dry and wet weather. There was a certain likeness between Michael and his mistress, at least with regard to the eyes and hair. Ninae' eyes. were deep brown and as faithful as Michael's. Her red-gold hair stood out about her little face the eyes and hair. Nina's eyes and hair were more the colour of an Irish setter's than an Irish terrier's, even such a fine specimen of the red Irish terrier as Michael Murphy. Nina had married Jack Eeseltine before he bad gone to India, and he had gone for two years. He was a mining engineer, and those two years of absence were to earn him a comfortable billet at home. They had had only a few days together before he left her in charge of Michael Murphy and one trusted servant, who, with the addition of an old gar dener, made up the establish

ment. Michael Murphy had been Jack's dog. He had spent his puppyhood in the lion's cage at the Zoo, where he played rowdy games with the lion cubs and slept in their midst, while the lion and lioness looked on with a sleepy amiability in their great yellow eyes, unless they happened to be hungry. At feeding-time one day, when the lion and lioness were shut off from the cubs and Michael, a very appetising bit of raw meat fell close by the barrier between the cages. Michael Murphy saw it fall and squeezed through the bars. He had barely picked up the bleeding tit-bit before the lion, with a tremendous roar, was upon him.

Michael showed fight, retreat-! ing meanAvhile with all baste to j his own premises. He just es- j eaped AA'ith his tit-bit. One of the cubs stretched out a lazy paAv to take the meat. Michael, usually the most amiable of creatures, snapped at his big playmate and dreAv blood. The cub roared. shaking' the cage as lie might '•"lraA'e shaken a forest. His parents 5 made reply. The whole Gardens took up the roar, and the place! Avas like the jungle. The keepers Avere just in time to save Michael Murphy. . After that he became Jack Heseltine's property. His OAvner used to tell with pride lioav Michael had stood up to the lions. That special cub bad turned out rather sullen and ill-tempered. Jack had been in the Gardens at the moment, and had arrived on the scene in the midst of the commotion. He gaA-e afterAvards a very good description of the cub discovering suddenly that he Avas a lion, lashing- his sides Avith his tail and roaring-, his tAA'o eyes like gig-lamps, as Jack described them, while he crouched in the corner of the cage, ready to spring. The cub had been taken away from the other cubs, who were still only large, playful kittens, after that; but it was thought as well not to reinstate Michael Murphy, although the cubs had made the days and nights hideous fretting for his absence till they forgot him. The cottage was an ideally pretty place. It Avas on rising ground toAvards the mountains, and the tAvo gable windows in the roof had a beautiful view of the country, and the city in its smoke-coloured veil shot 'through Avith gold, and beyond it the dancing, shimmering bay. The cottage turned a white gable-end, and a whitewashed wall Avith a green door in it, to the road. At the back the garden opened on to r pastures and cornfields, with the! mountains beyond. The place' was at once retired and open.! . Nina Heseltine had said that', there could be no dearer and sweeter place in which to wait tor Jack. j The garden was 'a delicious place of old-fashioned flower-beds cut out in the velvetv turf, shaded by some fine old' trees.' At the other end of the house was the kitchen garden, with old fruit trees among the vegetables and thick flower-borders within the box. The kitchen garden Avas the most fragrant place. Everything that was sweet-smelling grew there. Midway of it was a sum-mer-house surrounded by a number of (piaint box-bordered beds, square, oblong, oval, round, hexagon, all prim like a Hutch garden. The most beautiful Madonna lilies flowered every July in those beds. When they were in bloom they drowned all the other scents, coming in by the open windoAvs

of the cottage, and drenching th< I dreams of a sleeper with honej and musk. 11, had been a long waiting ever iu that heavenly place, but ai long last Jack was coming home . The interrupted honeymoon was : to continue in that sweet place for a while, before Jack got inti: harness again. She had though! | of meeting him at Southhampton, ! but he had decided otherwise—{she was to wait for him at the l cottage. He had been vague about th Iday of his coming. She suspectled that he meant to take her b\ (surprise. She was going to have him for her own again. He had written that they would have their real honeymoon at the cottage. They had never yet laid time for a honeymoon. She would have him to herself under the golden cottage eaves, through the warm, sweet days and nights. He was coming—what bliss! She did not grudge the waiting now that it: was over. The place was always daintily neat and pretty, but she set to work to furbish up—to brighten, while Maggie, her servant, smiled and said: "Sure, 'tis only of yourself he'll be thinkin' when he comes. T wouldn't be botherin' myself wid all that turnin' out. I wouldn't be tired-lookin' when he comes, if I was you, ma'am." "Tired-looking!" Why Nina felt in these days of happiness as though she could never be tired. She ran over the mountains as lightly as a fawn, Michael Murphy frisking at her heels. She was so gay, so light-hearted, that the old servant watched her go to and fro, hearing her light foot about the house, said to herself—"Look at the joy of her, the cravthus ! Sure she do be

only touchin' the ground in an odd place." Nina was always a very pretty woman, but prettier than ever in those days with her small head of

flaming hair. Her head sat on her long neck like a lily on its stalk. She was full of a charm-

ing intelligence. Her browntinted pale cheeks had two little dimples of laughter which came suddenly into evidence. Going to. and fro about the house and garden, singing to herself, she was an apparition of pure joy. At last—there was nothing more to be done. It was the third day from the receipt of the letter, and she had an unreasonable certainty that this day would bring him. She had put on her prettiest frock, pale green, which brought out the reds in tier hair, and she Avore the pearl necklace he had given her; little green jade ear-' rings were in her ears. When she looked at herself in the longi glass of her wardrobe she was j beautiful, and she knew it. And he was coming to-day. As she turned away from the glass she looked out of her window and saw, far away through: the mist, the smoke of the mail-, boat coming into Kingstown.! Her heart leaped at it. He was there, looking towards the land and the mountains. Five o'clock! He might arrive at six. She Avas quite sure he would not delay long on the way. She smelt the lilies through the house. How glad she Avas that they Avere in bloom ! They Avere standing like young angels against the darkness of the sum-mer-bouse, under the apple trees. The scent of them seemed part of her joy. There would be nearly full moon to-night. After dinner —the table Avas set for tAvo, and the dishes he liked best Avere in preparation, so sure was she—they Avould walk up the solitary mountain road, hand in hand, with only Michael Murphy for company, and through the delicious glen where the broAvn troutriver fell in amber pools, and ran singing on its way round the mossgrown boulders and under the ancient bridge. Michael knew. He had been very uneasy since the letter came, running- constantly to the green door and barking and displaying an untoward excitement. Now he looked at her pretty frock and began to whine with impatience, springing up at her in his wild way as she went doAvnstairs. She peeped into the kitchen for a moment. Somebody with a basket Avas just going away. There I Avas a A-ery savoury smell in the | kitchen. Maggie, rather red in . the face from the fire, looked up . from her oven to say that she bad just put in the bird, and she 1 hoped tbere'd be no disappoint ment. "I made sure.' she said, 'when I beard the bell that it was a telegram. But it Avas only the boy from Clancy's. That boy have great ould chat out of him. He had a storv there Avas a lion loose from JcAvl'ogical Gardens, and the childher Avas afeard to go tr school. 1 told him to go awaj and not be bothering me, himseli an' his nonsense of lions." Nina look her knitting, am went on into the garden. She sa down in a garden chair, drawing another close to it, with a trembh of happiness. Michael Murplr i • came and stretched himself at he I feet, his nose on his naws, hi , eyes watching the green gate ii i 'the wall. Now and again he mad<

a snap at a fly, or a rush after the birds that came pecking, tame as I chickens, about Nina's feet. It was an exquisite afternoon. The shadows of the trees lay on the velvety grass. Behind the screen of houghs there was a wonderful golden sky. The sun would not set for a long time yet. There was a sultry haze over the mountains, and the heather was pinkly purple. The gold of the near cornfield, almost ready for reaping, had a touch of pink in its paleness. The little stream which ran out of sight just behind the garden hedge, murmured over its stones. In winter it was a brawling' little stream. Now, altera dry summer, it ran gently, winding in and out between the stones. Her hands knitted mechanically— a sock which would have to be undone biter on. She was i imagining Jack coming nearer. He would have left Westland Row by this time. Me would take; a fast outside car, or ;t taxi per-J haps. She hoped it would be a 1 taxi, because it would be quicker S and would climb the hills easily. Tier heart was all in a flutter. Something ached in her till Jack should come. She kept listening, listening, for the sound of an approaching vehicle.

There was a reaping; machine working- in an adjoining field; it bothered her; she was listening keenly for the sound of the taxi or the outside car which should bring Tack, and the whirring of the machine was deceptive. She was listening so intently, so nervously, that her head seemed full of pulses, all beating with her heart. Suddenly Michael Murphy emitted a low growl. He became rigid. The hair stood up along his spine. He rose with a stealthy air.

What Avas the matter Avith the dog!'' He Avas looking beyond her, beyond her, the way of the open fields. A queer terror took possession of her heart. She turned about, looking over her shoulder. The thing she saw paralysed her with the strange, helpless paralysis of a dream. She could not have moved to save her life. She turned sick and cold with terror. Her tongue clove to the roof of her mouth. Her throat seemed to sAvell so that no sound could issue from it. All the same she Avas strangely sensible of the SAveet peacefulness of the scene — the long shadoAvs of the trees on the grass, the radiance of the distant lilies under the apple boughs, the golden sky flecked Avith burnished cloud behind the screen of the leaA r es. What she suav Avas a great yellow beast coming stealthily across the grass toAvards her. His tail Avas lashing from side to side. His flaming eyes looked at her. She noticed sub-consciously how his skin Avas flecked Avith the shadoAV of the leaA r es. He lay down as she Avatched, and his tail kept sAvishing from side to side. The smell of the beast came to her, smothering the fresh, sweet garden smells. It seemed to wrap her about; it entered her nostrils and her throat; it was choking her. It seemed like something palpable that she would, if she could, tear away from her—the horrible, acrid i slinging' smell. She had just time to think that perhaps at this moment Jack Avas approaching. He Avould come too late to sa\*e her. Oh, poor Jack, what a home-coming! It might be better if he, too, were to fall a prey to the beast. It Avas coming" nearer, dragging itself along the grass. The yellow eyes blazed at her. She closed her oavu. It was the end of all things. Such a horrible death ! What an awful thing for Jack to come home to ! She opened her eyes. She felt, or fancied she felt, the hot breath of the creature. The smell was

overpowering-. There was not j twenty foot of ground between them! "Was tnere no hope?j j Would no one come ? The beast [ must have crept through the corn : out there where the machine was j whirring. There were men there. They would come too late. Nothing could save her from the great .yellow cat dragging itself nearer and nearer. She tried to scream, and no sound came. The lion had paused j again. She noted dully that the , creature looked no longer at her, j but at something lower than her face. Michael had been standing in front of her bristling and growli ing. Suddenly the Hon rolled over I on its bach like a great kitten with its paws in the air. What j had happened to Michael? Michael had leaped on to the lion. They were f rollicking as though the lion were just a big puppy. He had caught Michael between his great paws. They were rolling over and over. The lion's big mouth opened as though his great teeth would chop off ihe dog's head. She saw for the first time thai there was blood on his jaws. The great mouth closed softly, softly on Michael's rough headthen opened to release it. Was there ever anything so strange? 1 The lion was slavering the dog like a lioness her cubs. It was a ■* wild, merry game between them. i Now Michael had the lion by the 1 ear, and was tugging at it, just as ' he tugged at Nina's slipper when

31 he had carried it off, and she trie hj to regain possession of it. She had not heard the gree . gate open. She liad left it in: 1 bolted, so that Jack need no ' knock and i"in*»- when he came - and wait till someone opened t 1 him. She was watching the ma ' frolic, wondering vaguely hoA - soon it might be before the lioi ' remembered her or turned savag ■ with Michael. Suddenly the beloved face clos ; to hers. She gasped. Tack's am i went round her. He half-carried • half-supported her to the house ■ The green porch was not ;i dozei yards away. Once inside, he closed the door She noticed curiously that his fac< was white and drawn, and we with perspiration. He drew oin or two long breaths, i "My God!" he said; "Ma God!" j She tried to comfort him. | T am quite all right. Yoi J saw? Was it not strange? H< 1 must have been one of the cubs I that was reared with Michael. How strange that he should have remembered —after two years!" "Stay here, darling," Jack said, and pushed her into a little room lined with books, the window of which looked into the road. Don't stir till I come back to you." She heard him go upstairs. Sub-consciously, she became aware of the arrival of an outside car at the green door, with luggage on top of it, and a pretty, light little mare in the shafts. "All," she said to herself, "Jack crossed the fields by the short cut. He would not come up the hill behind that little creature." She watched the man taking down the things in leisurely fashion and depositing them at the green gate. She had a momentary terror lest he should find the gate unbolted and walk in before she could warn him. But the little mare had got the smell of the lion. She swung quickly round, and was off down the hilly road, the man in hot pursuit. A shot rung out in the house; a second shot. Then she heard her husband's feet running downstairs. She heard Maggie coming in from the kitchen, and Jack's reassuring voice. "It is all right, Maggie. I have shot a lion in the garden." Then he opened the door and came in. Tie looked very thin and brown and somewhat aged, but his face was suffused with a passionate thanksgiving. "It is all right, darling," .he said. "I got him the first shot; but I thought it as well to make sine. I got him through the eye. I was desperately afraid about the dog, but luckily he had just tossed the dog half across the garden. A rough playfellow. T think there was battle'in Michai Murphy's mien as he picked himself up and came back. The shot frightened him off. And now — niv ooor darling! My little pre-

cious girl !" They clasped and kissed. They wore in the strange great peace of an escape from imminent and horrible death.

"I'm sorry I had to shoot him. He was a fine beast. Bnt there was no oilier way. And now. darling, before I have a wash and a change I'd better get the carcase oid of your garden. The carmen told me as I came up that the beast bad been prowling about for days, and had accounted for several sheep. He had to be killed. What a brave girl? You feel all right now?" ""With you. But where is Michael ? I want to he sure that he is not hurt." Michael came in with a hangdog air. Plainly he felt that he was in disgrace. He was reassured when his master shook his paw solemnly, and his mistress kissed his head with tears. "He shall have a good collar, said his master, "for il was he who haveel you." Michael understood that or something of it. and wagged lib tail, though he evidently felt that he had been Hie means of introducing a very rough customer jinto his mistress's garden. Still, he was forgiven, and it was rapture enough to see his master back, so that he soon forgot his j transgression, if it amounted to .that.