"SARAH TULDON."

New Zealand Herald, Volume XL, Issue 12239, 7 April 1903, Page 3

"SARAH TULDON."

BY OEME AGNUS, Author of " Jan Oxber," "Love in Our Tillage," " Zike Mouldom," etc. } CHAPTER ¥11. .... Meanwhile Sarah, with untroubled spirit, enjoyed with zest all the delights her life offered her. She welcomed the attentions of her admirers and had her daily meetings with George Hanger. It was a tribute to her charms that none of them had ceased attendance on her, and all were ready to do anything to win her smile. Hanger heard of the rupture with David with a gratification he did nob conceal from her, and again offered her marriage ; indeed, offered it on every occasion he met her, and still brought his gifts to her feet and thought himself well rewarded if he obtained a kiss. She did not cheapen herself, and it was only at rare intervals that she thus rewarded him. but it made the keeper her devoted slave. Perhaps her idea was that it would be as well to have Hanger to fall back upon in case she failed with David, though she never admitted to herself or her parents that it was possible to fail. She went about once a week, generally in a bantering spirit, to ask David if he had yet come to his senses. She always left him with a laugh that made him feel as helpless as a mouse with which a cat is playing. It was while the plans for her defeat were being perfected that a new element came into her life. One raw winter's afternoon she was with Hanger near the Whitelady Woods when a young gentleman passed with his gun. He nodded in response to the keeper's salute, and eyed Sally keenly. " Bain't that the squire's nephew?" asked Sally. •■ ' " Ees," said Hanger very curtly, and at once changed the subject. He was vexed that the " young master" had seen her, for he knew his reputation too well. His heart sank when the next morning Lewis came to him.

" Who was that girl you were with yesterday, Hanger?" he asked. , Hanger was inclined to tell a lie, but he felt certain he would be found out sooner or later, so murmured her name was Tuldon. "I thought you were courting Squibbs' girl, Hanger?" "Ees, zur, I—l bel was," stammered Hanger. . "And you are courting this other girl now He had no time to decide whether a lie would serve him or not, so he spoke truly— "Not exactly courten, zur." The young fellow laughed and turned away before the keeper could explain that she was engaged to David Mockell, of the Hill Farm, but they had quarrelled, and he himself hoped to be engaged to her shortly. The next afternoon, when, Sarah was strolling towards the woods, she met the young squire. " Good afternoon," he said with a courteous bow and fascinating smile that had never yet failed to impress and please village girls. " Good afternoon, zur," said Sally, with a becoming blush of confusion. "What is your name, my dear?" he asked, and with deferent modesty Sally told him. " I am going the same way as you, and I'll walk along with you a little," he said. ".... Do you know you are a very pretty girl?" " Oh, zur!" exclaimed Sally, with more confusion. "Very pretty, and I like pretty girls." " Oh, zur!" He walked by her side, paying her primitive compliments which Sally received with blushes. "You ought to be dressed like a lady," he said. " You would make one of the prettiest ladies I have ever seen." Presently he slipped his arm unobtrusively round her waist, but Sally disengaged herself gently with a little cry of alarm. " Oh, don't 'ee i zur, don't 'ee. Mother wouldn' like it." "You dear timid child," laughed Drexley, who was the son of Squire Deverill's sisterand a Deverill. "Very well," as Sarah looked inclined to flee, "I won't," but she consented. to walk on with him, and, finally, after assuring him that she would not dare, agreed to meet him next day. On her way home she was conironted by the keeper, an angry light in his eyes. "You ha' been with the young master?" he said, thickly. "Ees," returned Sally, with a pert smile. " Haven' you no more sense than to go walken with he?" asked Hanger witn. passion. "Why shouldn' I if I be zo minded? I go walken with you zometimes." "My dear, my dear, don't 'ee, don't 'ee!" he cried almost tearfully. " P'raps you don't know him and all the vam'ly like I does, but you ought to know his zort bain't after you vor any good. He be one of the zort that do think it vine sport to play tricks with a pretty maid. If you don't know," becoming impassioned, "there be Jinny Dalloway over to Ridge that he played his tricks with last year when he was down here. She thought she was zomebody grand with the vine things he gave she, and the gurb promises he made her; she was vooil enough to believe he was gwain to marry her. She be disgraced, and she couldn' hold her head up avore volks, zo she went off with the child, nobody knows where, but her volks do think she be dead. She was zo proud, do 'ee zee. And there was Mary Horseman avore that, and "

"Look zee," interposed Sally very coldly, "I be able to take care of meself, I'd 'low, without you helpen. P'raps I hadn' better come near you any mwore." " Don't 'ee take it thik way, my dear," begged- Hanger, who was terribly in earnest. "I want to marry 'ee, do 'ee zee, and he do want to spoil 'ee." "P'raps he do want to marry I," Sally remarked, looking at the keeper out of the corner of her eyes. " Don't 'ee believe him. His zort don't marry your zort, you ought to know. Jinny Dalloway boasted how he was gwain to marry she, and what a lady she'd be in Lunnon, gurt zilly vooil as she was." "If he be such a ter'ble gentleman," said Sally, with a laugh, "you gwo hwome and kip your eyes on Harriet. P'raps lie be round after she thease very minit." " Dawn," said the keeper, fervently, and Sally laughed again and went'on. * Mr. Lewis Drexley had found the prettiest " country wench" in Dorset, he assured himself, and he took' to the sport of hunting her down with keen zest. Sally was not at all averse to meeting him, and hardly a day passed but he came upon her somewhere. But, to his own thinking, he made slow progress, owing to the girl's invincible modesty and timidity. On their second meeting he attempted to kiss her, but Sally prevented him, and, looking very shocked, told him again that " Mother would be ter'ble an{"-v if she did know." " But she would never know," said Lewis. Sally shook her head. ' './/•'; " You can never tell, and it would kill I if she found it out," she said, and he was baffled. He recognised that here was a timid quarry that would be' scared by too peremptory methods, but she was worth winning gradually. The next time he saw her he showed her (. pretty gold locket. "Do you like it?" he asked. .' " Oh, that be very pretty, zur," she cried, and he noted with satisfaction her sparkling eyes. " I never had a locket like 1 that.". "What will you give me for it?" "It be worth a gurt lot, I'd 'low, and I could n' afford— - . •> .; , : "You shall have it for three.kisses', my deai-." ' \ ' "Oh, zur!" ;■''■ ' . "What do you say?" « Sally looked with longing eyes on the locket, but said nothing, and Lewis put it into her hand. ' -. " Here, it is yours," he said, " and now I am going to take payment." " P'raps—p'raps somebody will zee we,'and I should die of.shame," faltered Sally. "It —it be very wrong. - And I should never dare to wear thease locket." >7 ' "You timid little mouse!" laughed Lewis, a little irritated. "You can wear the locket inside your dress, can't you? Come behind this bush and we sha'n't.be seen.", : ■ ", v * Sarah -followed reluctantly, 'after ; casting" fearful glances around, and Lewis took his payment.with great deliberation. But when. he would. have taken'more.than the contract allowedj Sally, started.— .J. ; .

" 'Sh! Somebody be comen!". she cried, and swung herself out 'of his reach, while Lewis swore under his breath. On their next meeting he offered her a guinea for another three kisses, and Sally assented with the same caution. The next time he brought her a gold brooch, for which he got as much as for the locket and guinea together. But when she had gone he swore lustily at the slow progress he was making, though the timidity of the bird made him more resolved to snare it. On every occasion after leaving him she was met by the keeper, who, she believed, spied upon them when he dared. By taunts and threats and earnest entreaty he tried to get her to give up the meetings, but Sarah laughed at him. " He gave I thease," she said, showing the locket with a pleased smile, and Hanger swore fiercely. She left him with a laugh, and his oaths pursued her. On the next meeting but one with Lewis Sally was apparently very nervous. "Vather ha' bin asken where I ha' been lately," she said. " I don't care to come any mwore, I'd 'low. You don't know what a ter'ble man he be. P'raps zomebody have told en zomethen." "Oh, nonsense!" said Lewis. "There is nothing to be afraid of. You must come, my dear." ' ( 'Why?" asked Sally. " Because I love you, don't you see, my pretty creature." "Love?" queried Sally, looking into his face with the eyes' of a" child. "What be that?" ,■■ Lewis laughed. " Why, it means I— am very fond of you, very fond, indeed, and that I want always to— be near you." "That be sweet-hearten, then, you do mean, but you couldn' marry I, I'd 'low," shaking her head. " I bain't a lady, do 'ee zee, and I should be afraid among your volks. They wouldn' be nice to I, do 'ee zee." " There is nothing to be afraid of, my love. You are as pretty as any lady I know, and if you were dressed like a lady you wou'.d outshine them all. If you are a good girl to me I'll give 'you some really beautiful frocks like ladies wear, and I'll take you to London, too. Wouldn't vou like that?"

" Oh, that would be nice," said Sally, her eyes sparkling. "Do 'ee really mean you do want to marry I, then, zur?" " Yes, if you are very nice and do what I want. But I don't think you love me, for you will hardly let me kiss you." " When we be coin-ten prapper you can kiss I when you be zo minded," she said simply. " I'll tell mother you do want to marry I. It will please she, just about. Do 'ee zee" "No, no, don't say anything to your mother just yet or— people might talk about it," he interposed hastily. Do you. see, I don't want you to tell anybody"we love each other until we are married." "Very well; if you don't want I to, I won't, but it would please mother, just about," she saTd, with a regretful sigh " But you do mean it about marryen, certain sure?" "Yes, of course; that is, if you will be a kind little girl. If you are going to be nice and kind give me a kiss now." Sally hesitated a moment, then lightly touched his cheek. He caught h'er in his arms and returned it,' but the girl as usual broke free before he could kiss her again. "I should like to gwo to Lunnon and have vine clothes and all the nice things to eat," she said. "I've alius wanted they things. There be lots of nice things .to eat I ha' never tasted. There be pheasant now they do say it be nicer'n anythen. I should zo like to have pheasant." He did not answer for a moment; her words had set him thinking of a brilliant •scheme. " Now, just listen a moment," he said. " Do you know the shooting-hut in the woods about a mile from here, as you go towards the White Lodge?" "Ees; I've zeen it." "Well, if you'll come there to-morrow night at—let us —seven o'clock we'll have a jolly supper togetherjust you and me. There shall be pheasant and chicken, some lovely cakes and puddings, and some beautiful grapes* and nuts, and you shall have wine to drinksuch wine as you never tasted. Won't it be jolly?"

"I like tea, just about." . "Very well, and some tea, too, but you'll like wine better. We'll have a very nice time together. Yes, and there shall be a beautiful frock there for you to try on, and you shall have it if it fits you. You'd look like a great lady in it, I know. We'll have a happy time together, and nobody will know. You'll come, my dear?" Sally bit her finger meditatively, i "I should like to, but I don't know if I could. I don't think I could get away, and then volks 'ould be sure to find it out." " Not they ! Nobody would know. Now, just think it over and tell me to-morrow. I know you are going to be a nice, sensible girl, and come." I—l don't know," shaking her head. " I'll zee to-morrer." "That's right. I know you'll come. Just think what there will be," and he enumerated the dainties again. Sally laughed softly to herself as she went homewards. She laughed again and again, humming gaily to herself. Now and again in a mocking tone she ejaculated a name which was perhaps a surprising one under the circumstances. It was " Davy." The following afternoon Lewis was in gay spirits. Sally, after repeating many times that she should like to come very much, but " dTdn' know p.he was sure," at last yielded to his blandishments, and h'e presented her with a ring to signify, he explained, that they were sweethearts. Sally was all smiles when they parted, and Lewis in the gayest spirits watched her go. At last the bird had entered the snare ! . Sarah did not see Ranger that afternoon. She did not know until he told her some time afterwards that from a bush he had been; spying upon them, and had seen his young master kiss her when he gave her the ring, and that he had been roused to such a cold fury that he had stalked Lewis to the Hall gates with his gun raised a score of times to shoot him, but bis resolution had failed every time he had a fair mark.

On her way home Sarah called at the Three Tuns to see her sister Maria, the innkeeper's nursemaid. Maria had a great admiration for her eldest sister, which had been intensified by the gossip she heard concerning her among the habitues of the house. They had a short conversation together, and Sally went home and set to work to make herself as presentable as possible for the coming supper-party. A few minutes before half-past six Sally left the house. Her mother mildly inquired where she was going, and Sally replied she had promised to meet a friend. It was a.very dark night, and a breeze from the south-west was bringing a gentle drizzle. The road to the shooting-hut was very lonely, but Sally, whose nerves were too strong to be affected by possibilities of darkness, was glad that it was —there was less likelihood of encountering anyone who would recognise her. Lewis had made great preparations for Iris guest. ■ His body-servant had swept the hut and lighted a fire, and the table had been laid with the banquet he promised, and half a dozen bottles of wines and spirits had not been forgotten. He had great faith in the powers of port and sherry on young and foolish heads that were not accustomed to wine. • When the room and table had been prepared to his satisfaction he sat before the fire with his snuffbox open, from which he took a pinch at intervals. He laughed softly at intervals. Really, the most timid or most seemingly virtuous of these rural wenches were to be subdued by a few trinkets and the promise of fine clothes. He would make Lord Damerhill and Percival Huntley envious when he went back to town. ''-.'■.-• ■ ■ ■ He turned to his man, who was, for want of something to do. feigning to be still busy with the arrangements of the table. "That will do, Penaydill," he said. "I want you to ride into Suckton to ask Johnson for the bridle. he was repairing. You had better go at once. Here is something to make you forget it is a dark night;; catch,'' and he tossed over a guinea, which Pennydill dexterously caught. " Make haste; I want you back before ten." . " Thank 'ee, zur. Ees, zur, I'll make haste, zur." and Penuydill went off. He would dearly have loved to see for whom the preparations were made, but it was out of the question now. The young master' was not one to play tricks with, a* he had discovered once before in an unpleasant, manner. Mr. Lewis, as likely ;as not, would ask Johnson what time he reached Suckton. ■■-.'■.:.' (To be continued daily.)