WITH ALL HER HEART.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 11756, 11 September 1901, Page 3

WITH ALL HER HEART.

BY CHARLES GAEVICE, Author of " " At Love's Cost," " Love, the Tyrant," " The Shadow of Her Life," "A Heritage of Hate," " Nell of Shorne Mills." "Just a Girl," Etc., Etc., Etc. CHAPTER XVII. Cottie's heart sank, and a cry of terror rose to her lips, but she drove it back and looked straight into the evil face. It wore a cunning leer rather than a ferocious one, and the small, shifty eyes seemed to be regarding her with a curious mixture of satisfaction and deference. But they were on the alert, and as her hand instinctively stole towards her revolver Sheeney said, rather persuasively than threateningly: " Better give me that six-shooter, my boy; they're ' dangerous playthings for youngsters like you. That's all right," as Oottie reluctantly handed over the revolver. " Now we shall sail along smooth and comfortable ; yes, smooth and comfortable's the word, for, strike me pink, if I mean anything but what's friendly, though, mind you, most men would bear a grudge for the straight shootin' you engaged in the other day. But, so as we can get on a square basis, how would it be if you was to hand over anything as might be useful to a friend in need? Would you mind turnin' out your pockets?" Cottie took out some small change which Geoffrey had given her, and emptied her pockets. " You took all that I had the other clay," she said, trying to speak steadily. "Not me; you're thinking of someone else, my boy!" said Sheeney, with an air of surprise and injured innocence. " Is this all? Well, it ain't much; but I'll take charge of it for you, because seeing as you and me are going to chum up together, and I'm going to be paymaster, you won't want any money." " What are you going to do with me?" she asked, with affected nonchalance, though her lip quivered. "I'm going to take care of you, take charge of you," said Sheeney. "You're a-gazing at your guardian, your guardian angel, my boy, little as you think of it. You and me are never going to part any more." She tried to smile, tried to tell herself that the man was drunk, that someone would ride up, that they would run against someone before long, from whom she could claim protection against this man ; but a note of assurance in his soft, toneless voice struck to her heart. Oh, if Geoffrey could only know the plight into which she had fallen. If she had only stood her ground, and instead of trying to trick Geoff had refused to leave him. " That's how it's going to be with us," said Sheeney, after a pause, during which lie watched her sideways, " and the sooner you reckonise the fact and knuckle down to it, the better for you and tLe better for him." " For him?" she echoed, with vague dread. Sheeney saw that he had struck the right note, and his lips twisted with an expression of cunning satisfaction. "That's so," he said, nodding. " You're a sensible lad, a brainy —I said so the moment I saw you, ' there by the old hut at home,' for it was me, I don't deny it— I'll make a clean show of it. Candid and opfen-spoken is what I am, and always was. I may lose by it, no doubt I often do, but I can't go against my nature." They were riding on again while he was talking, riding with* the bridle of Cottie's horse linked in Sheeney's arm, his hand resting readily on his revolver. Cottie listened, trying to drive from her face all expression of the fear and loathing which the man's proximity aroused in her, trying to keep a stiff upper lip and assume an air of fearless nonchalance. " When I sat in the hut that day, eating my bit o' grub and looking and listening to you, I said to myself: ' I like this boy. There's something about him which goes for me straight and gets me every time.' Kind of fascination, you may call it. Do you catch on? And that being so, it went rather against the grain to have to score up something against a friend o' yours." " Meaning—?" said Cottie. " Meaning that chum of yours who lived with you in the hut—yes. And a heavy score it was, for I was lame for a couple of weeks with the bullet wound he gave me—" " It was me !" said Cottie, eagerly. " Was it? Well, I scored it up against him, and I was going, with a pal or two, ' to pay a visit to that sweet little hut of yours and clear it off. And we'd have paid it off in full, youngster!" He swore to the statement with an oath which made Cottie shudder, not because of the oath's force, but because of the malignancy which it expressed. " And then, 10, and behold! as they say, you comes into Blue Pig with him. I was half tempted to drop him then and there," he weut on reflectively; " but seeing how things nave turned out I'm almost glad I didn't, because, you see, you and I wouldn't be journeying together quite so comfortable. And we are comfortable, ain't we?" Cottie nodded. She was pondering over what the man had said. She knew that the rangers clung together like bees, that such a vendetta as the man had hinted at was more than possible, and that, if she attempted to escape, Geoffrey's life would pay the forfeit. For the present, at anyrate, she must remain passive, and pretend resignation to her capture. It was fortunate for her that her captor did not suspect her to be in the possession of the notes which seemed to burn at her waist. "Where are we going?" she asked, after a pause. Sheeney regarded her ruminatingly. " Now, where would you like to go?" he said. " Back home to the hut," said Cottie, with a sharp breath. " If you'll take me there, I'll—my chum, who's gone on there will pay you well Sheeney shook his head. " Sorry, but it can't be done. You said good-bye to him for a long forever, I should say—and don't you take on about it, my boy," he went on, as Cottie's face grew pale and her lips quivered. " You ain't going to lose anything. You've got a new friend—that's me"—he touched his heart with his forefinger and smiled significantly — a friend as will prove a more valuable one than that digger chap, one as will stand by you through thick and thin, and will make "your fortuneyes, your fortune! And all he asks is that you should stand by him in return, and treat him as he treats you. In short, young 'un, you and I will strike a bargain. Give me your word to go along with me quietly and comfortably and I'll pass mine that no harm shall come to you ; try and give me the slip, and I'll put my pals on to your chum out yonder" —lie jerked his finger over his shoulder— " and they'll wipe him out. When you've got a grip" of that fortune I'm going to help you to, why, then you can make it up to him as much as you like." Cottie was silent as he regarded her from the corner of his eyes. What did it mean? Why should he kidnap her? What was his object in detaining her, and was there any truth in this promise of a fortune? Suddenly she remembered that he had stolen the packet, the packet of whose contents she was ignorant. Had he learnt anything of her father's past history from the packet? The purport of the man's conduct was a mystery to her, but one thing stood out plainly: that any attempt to escape him would be fraught with peril to Geoffrey; and she would rather go with the man, if their destination was death itself, than any harm should be done to Geoffrey. "Tell me where we're going." "What do you say to England now?" he suggested, but watching her closely. "To England!" Her face blanched for a moment, for England was so far, so very far from Geoff, and she turned her face away. "To England, to the dear Old Country," be said, with a grotesque assumption of sentiment. "To the home of the bold an' the free! That's the place, young '1111, for the likes o' you and me. It's just this way, you see : I struck oil the other day 011 that visit to you, and I've got an idea of sharing it with you. I took a fancy to you, and I'm prepared to take you to the Old Country and show you round, just as if you was a son of mine. I may have something up my sleeve, as 1 say, but I'll hold my tongue about it at present. Give me your word | and I'm satisfied." j It was the second timeshe had been asked 1 to pledge herself; she had done so the first

time willingly enough, but her heart sank as she gave the required understanding to this sleke, hatchet-faced man with the soft, toneless voice and the cunning eyes. " I won't try and get away, I'll go to England with "you—if you promise to let mymy chum out there alone, and not- to interfere with me, to let me go free when j I've got to England." _ , ! "You shall go as free as air when we ve j I shared that fortune I spoke of, as sure as ( my name's Sheeney," he responded, and in token of the compact he liberated her bridle. " Now we've had our palaver, we've got to ; ride," he remarked. " It- stands to reason we've got to get to Melbourne in double quick time, seeing we're both anxious to start, for the Old Country. Don't remember it, do you, young 'un?" he asked, with a j sharp took. Cottie shook her head. " I don't know anything about it. I have ! never been there," she replied. " That's all right," Sheeney remarked, [ with a smile of satisfaction. " Ah, well, you'll be safe and sound under my care, my boy. I'll look after you." 1 They rode in silence for some time, inl deed, Cottie was so absorbed in her grief, occupied in hiding it from the keen eyes of her captor, that she rode behind him in a kind of stupor. Only one thought consoled her for the misfortune that had overtaken her : Geoffrey was now safe from the vengeance of the gang of rangers of which the man Sheeney seemed the chief. Long after nightfall they reached a small camp, where they received the cool but genuine welcome usually accorded to travel- ; lers. It was a hot night, and Cottie asked permission from Sheeney to sleep outside the tent. He eyed her keenly for a moment and fingered his revolver, but he accorded the permission, and she threw herself down on the horse blanket, wearied and yet in too much sorrow to sleep. Was it only two nights ago that she had slept in the soft and fragrant nest that Geoffrey had made for her, only two nights ago that she had awakened to find his eyes bent upon her with kindly protection and affection? A sob' rose in her throat, but she checked it, though she could not check the tears that rolled down her pale face. What would Geoff think and say and do when be found that she had not returned to the hut as she had intimated? She slept a little before dawn, but it was j a dream-sleep in which Geoffrey's voice and face haunted her, and tortured her with pangs, the real cause of which she did not guess at; for she was more than half a boy still, and knew not love. Alter a hasty breakfast Sheeney hurried away from the camp, and as he had swapped the two horses for younger and fresher ones they made even more miles than on the_ preceding day. With only a short rest at midnight they rode on by a route which seemed familiar to Sheeney, and reached Melbourne in the early morning. As they neared the town Cottie noticed, even in the excitement of her wonder and admiration for the big city, that the man beside her appeared enxious and preoccupied. He • drew his soft felt hat over his brows, and loked from under its brim from side to side with a watchful and alert expression, and once as they passed a police patrol who was cantering on his beat Sheeney's hand went to the revolver concealed under his jumper, and after he had answered the patrol's sharp question, " Who are you, and whither bound?" and received the policeman's nod of permission to pass Cottie heard him draw a heavy breath of relief. He led the way to a small hotel in the centre and crowded part of the town, where he was evidently known, for the hostler raised his eyebrows significantly at sight of him, and, as he took the horses to the stables, jerked his bead towards a door at the back of the house. Sheeney opened it, though no handle was visible, and pushed Cottie not roughly —before him into a dark passage. Another door opened as mysteriously, and she found herself guided into a small sitting-room. An enormously fat woman was counting money at the table, and she sprang up with an oath at their intrusion, but as she recognised Sheeney she nodded and sank down again as if reassured. " Oh, it's you, Sheeney, is it?" she said, coolly. "I thought you'd been lagged." The man checked her by a sign of warning. " Yes, it's me, Mrs. Brown," he said, with a cunning leer. " Can you put us up for a night or two?" "Who's the boy?" she asked, staring at Cottie's pale face, which threatened to become crimson ; for the girl naturally dreaded the scrutiny of one of her own sex. " A young newy of mine," replied Sheeney, smoothly. " My sister Polly's child. I've come across him by chance and having had a bit of luck, I've hadopted him." The woman shrugged her shoulders with a mixture of indifference and incredulity which plainly indicated her estimate of Sheeney's veracity. "There's the two cribs," she said, nodding at two doors on the opposite side of the room. " Well, then, let's have a bite and sup, and the boy will turn in, and precious glad to do it, I expect, eh, Ronnie?" Cottie was almost too wearied for speech or fear, and could only manage to drink a cup of tea, over which she almost fell asleep. The woman laid a hand on her shoulder and wheeled her round to one of the rooms. "So you're Sheeney's nephew, are you?" she said. "Well, I can't compliment you on your uncle, my boy. What's his little game, eh?" Cottie shook her head, and the woman, after a glance, which was half suspicious, half pitying, nodded at the bed and left her. Cottie found that there was a bolt on the door, and, slipping it in its place with something like a groan of relief at being tree from Sheeney's hateful presence, flung herself without undressing on the bed, and fell asleep from sheer exhaustion. She was awakened in the morning by a knock at the door, and opening it, found the landlady there was a big parcel in her arms. m " From your uncle, my boy," she said, curtly. " You're to put'em 011. Breakfast will be ready by the time you've dressed yourself— Why, you haven't took your things olf!" " I was too tired," said Cottie, as she shut the door. The big bundle contained a new serge suit, with yachting cap to match, and an outfit of linen and underwear, and in fear and trembling she changed the %ligger clothes for the new ones. She started and could scarcely suppress an exclamation of astonishment as she surveyed herself in the glass ; for she saw there a slim, gentlemanly-look-ing youth, like one she had seen in a picture in one of Geoffrey's books. The serge suit fitted her extraordinarily well, and the dark blue yachting cap set off the pale, clearcut face and dark, violet eyes to perfection. She was every inch a boy, saving that she was too good-looking. She sighed as she wondered what Geoff would say if he could see her, and, still thinking of him, she opened the door and entered the parlour. A tall, military-looking man with grey hair and neatly trimmed moustache, and clad in a sober tweed suit, was seated at the ! table, and Cottie drew back, feeling shy and ! nervous in her new clothes a.nd in her strange j surroundings ; but the grey-haired gentleman dropped the eyeglass which he had raised to survey her, and Sheeney's thick lips stretched under the moustache in the grin which Cottie loathed. " Didn't you know me, eh, boy?" lie said, with a satisfied laugh. "That's all right! I'm your uncle, Mr. Thompson Uncle Ned. You won't forget. My word! You look no end of a swell in your new togs, and as handsome as paint! Whew ! We'll have all the girls on our track before we reach London. And we're starting, as luck would have it, this very day. Fine, ain't he, Mrs. Brown?" he broke off with a chuckle, as the woman entered with a breakfast-tray.- She set it down to stare at the slim, graceful figure and high-bred face. " Hem! That sister of yours must have had all the good looks in your family, Sheeney," she remarked, drily. Sheeney scowled and grinned at her. " He's the image o' my hold father," he said. Cottie noticed, as she ate her breakfast, that, now he had reached civilisation, the man's speech had slipped from the rough digger twang to a smoother, but to Cottie, less pleasant one; she did not know that it was Cockney. When the meal was finished Sheeney got up and put 011 the highly-re-spectable bowler hat for which he had exchanged his weather-worn billycock. " We'll go down to the dock and take our passage, my boy," he said. "You'd better keep close to me going through the crowded streets or I might lose you, he added significantly. Bewildered by her first vision of a large city, Cottie gazed about her with her violet

eyes wide open. But it was not the fine houses, the handsome carriages, the gay shops which interested her. It was the women, the graceful, well-dressed ladies who glanced with curiosity and very often with frank admiration at the beautiful lad in tie serge suit who seemed to shrink under their notice. Instinctively she knew that these must be like the " nice" girls in England of whom Geoffrey had spoken. She could not get them out of her mind, even when she stood amazed at the sight of the docks and the huge vessels. " The Capricornthat's her," said Sheeney, who had glanced from side to side during the walk with an alert and watchful anxiety. " Nice ship, isn't she? Send her good luck and we shall be in England before-,-" He stopped suddenly and darted into the shipping agent's office, and Cottie, following him, saw that he was standing with his back to the counter as if to hide his white face from the clerk. However, he recovered his composure after a moment or two, se- - cured two berths for " Mr. Thompson and his nephew," and, taking up the tickets, sauntered to the door. " Just look out and see if a big chap in a serge suit is standing about anywhere near,' he whispered. Cottie could see no one answering to the description, and said so. " Oh, it's all right, I daresay," said Sheeney. " I—l thought I spotted a man as I ain't very anxious to meet. Sure he ain't there? Right you are then, come on !" Outside the docks he plunged into a network of small streets, and after a long walk called a cab to take them to the hotel. When then reached the parlour he drew out the tickets and tossed one to Cottie. " I may have to send you aboard before I go," he said. "I've something to do as 'ull keep me till almost the last moment. If I do, you just take a cab at the corner and tell the man to drive you to the docks. The Capricorn's the name, you know. You can remember that? Come away from that window ! Here, you'd better go and lie down and keep snug in your own room till we start." She was only too glad to get away from him, and obeyed promptly enough. The woman brought some food, but though she still eyed Cottie curiously, made no remark, and the day dragged on. Cottie was in bp If a drowse when suddenly she heard a scuffle in the dark passage outside the sitting-ro>.-n, her door was burst open, and Sheeney darted in.. The grey wig was on one side, his face white and wet with sweat, and his eyes distended with fear. He looked like a hunted fox, and Cottie shrank back from him. " Get off to the ship 1" Sheeney said in a hoarse and toneless whisper. " I'll join you directly. They've not seen you, I'm surs cf thatthey may not have seen me, but there's a man belowhark!" She heard low and cautious voices, and presently the fat woman came into the room, shut the door softly, and pointed a finger downwards significantly. " I know !" whispered Sheeney. , " Curse them! Another hour and I'd have got clean off! And I'll do them yet, for all their blasted sharpness. Here, boy, off with you! Not that way!" He gripped Cottie's shoulder as she was going to the door and almost forced her through one cleverly concealed by the pattern of the paper. As the secret panel closed she heard Sheeney's laboured breath behind her. The passage was quite dark, and he guided her by the shoulder until they reached another door. After listening breathlessly for a moment or two he opened it cautiously and whispered: " I'll join you on board before they start. You'll find a cab outside. Quick!" The door snapped to and she found herself outside in a busy street with a stream of persons hurrying along the pavements. Bewildered as she was, she allowed herself to drift with the stream, and not until she had been carried some distance did she see a cab. She hailed it, and as composedly as she could ordered the man to drive her to the docks, paid him, and, directed by one of the officials, went on board the huge liner. There was a crowd of passengers and visitors on board, the sailors were busy getting ready for departure, and almost unnoticed the halfamazed girl stood on the deck waiting for her captor. The visitors began to leave the vessel, good-byes were waved from the quay, a bell rang, the steam whistle hooted the signal for starting, and Cottie felt the great ship move under lier. She had seen nothing of Sheeney, but she concluded that he had slipped on board and that lie would presently approach her. While she was waiting one of the stewards came up to her. " The number of your berth, sir?" Instinctively Cottie produced her ticket. " Number 91. Quite right, sir. Your luggage came this morning, and I put it in your stateroom. This way." Cottie followed him to a comfortable stateroom, upon the sofa of which was a new Gladstone bag. " My— uncle— he on board?" she asked, colouring. 'The steward looked at her. "Your uncle, sir? What name?" " Thompson," stamered poor Cottie. "If he is he's in the saloon getting your seats at table, for certain," said the man; and Cottie followed him. But Sheeney was not in the saloon, nor, indeed, in any other part of the vessel. She was going to England —and free! (To be continued on Saturday next.)