KATE MEREDITH.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLIV, Issue 13455, 6 April 1907, Page 3 (Supplement)

KATE MEREDITH.

I _ _ . : [PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.] '

i i c n ' e j BY C. J. CUTCLIFFE HYNE, [J j Author of " Adventures of Captain Kettle," j 111 "Through Arctic Lapland," "Mr. Hor--8 I rocks, Purser." " The Loe' COll- - j tinent," etc.

v 1 | [ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.I i! e j [COPYRIGHT.] e I I CHAPTER Xll.(Continued.) ! i ( J It was a piece of grey stone which sprouted Tjwith rich brown crystals. It was shaped s | like a squat duck, some inch and a-half! " ! king, and A ■ i Ben Hossein wore it alonge side the little leather pared, which held a i ; verse of the Koran, and hung by a thong 1 | from his neck. 5 I " O, Effendi, you are young, and that will I e 'bring you pleasure more than could be ( ibought with ten quills of geld. Wear that! s and your grief will fade." a i "Poof!" said Carter, "I've no griefs." . j Ali Ben Hussein waved aside the state-i ' ment with a long slim handthe hand of! j the Hausa swordsman for whose narrow' grip Central African armourers make sword I > | hilts that no grown Englishman can use. j 3 j "0, Effendi, my sickness was of the lew.; " i Neither my eyes nor my ears were touched' 1 |by the leopard, and since I lay . here i have j ? ! both seen and heard. I here is a, woman j j that 1 have watched—a. woman with brown iiair, thai has in it the glint of copper. I j She flaunts you now, a,s is the- wav of I I women with tiiose they love; but she is the! - ione you desire and presently (having this I charm) you will take tier to wne. Indeed, "jsiie win come to your house without pur-, ! eiias.o add of free will. ' 1 M " You mistake, said Carter, with a sigh. " "It is the black haired one that I am contracted to marry. , i Ben Hosseii: smiled, He was not to be '! turned irom his idea by a small argument | like that. " You may take her as the le.-ser : i wne, nut 1 know who will ru.e your harem, | Effendi.'' . j "You polygamous old scoundrel! I beg; , your paulo i, Ben Hossein. but you're on j , ~ the wrong track, and so please let us change, the subject. This charm, this duck, is' , I made of what we call tin stone. Hoes it:, I come from Hausaland?" j | "No, Effendi. It. is found nearer to here! than lie Hausa country. There is a great;; island of red twisted stone that rears itself;, a up out of the bush, and this stone that the j - ? duck is made of lies amongst it. There is - no value in the charm as a stone, but only ] value in its shape, which if that of a duck, , as you see, Effendi. Half the twisted moun- , ( tain is made of that stone, and the river i ( , | that runs along its base at times eats into < 'j-" i! L "How far is it from here?" [ " Twelve—no, thirteen marches. Look, I ] will spread this sand upon the floor and ] draw you the roads. But the country is j . • evil, Effendi, and {jjhough you go there and ! j spend a lifetime in search, vet will you not find another stone formed like a duck. To £ get this, my grandfather sent a hundred slaves, who raked amongst the screes forL a year." _ " n I "This is ton ore," said Carter, "and I I tell you frankly, Ben Hossein, that there j( is a fortune in what you have told me." j j "I wish," said Ben Hossein, gravely, "'that there were ten fortunes, and so I could perhaps repay one tithe of what li owe to you, Effendi. May Allah be with I you. I go now back toward my people, land if Allah '..ill we shall meet again." . j "Now this stone and this tale must go , to Kate," said Carter to himself, and went,, ' in towards the factory, and up the stair ll to the verandah. Kite came out of the j mess-room to meet him. and waved a cable- 1 grain. j? "1 have just decoded it," she cried ex-." ultingly. '"They have accepted my terms "i i "I wish you would decode the, 'they.'" | ?■ "The German firm that owned Moliki be- I .' fore we came." ' ;l j "What, the people you bought it from?" I a j She nodded. ' j ci j " But hy on earth sell it back to them?" " " Because, my dear Mr. Carter, they are going to give me £9000 for the produce we a I have collected, and another £8000 for the i |fort and the goodwill of the business. i a j How's that? £17,000 cash against a £1500 outlay in three months. That's better than; (staying out here in West Africa." i Carter had been carrying the duck in his' l)l | hand. He put it into his pocket. "1 ■ don't wonder you're exultant. -I suppose j" j no other girl on earth ever made a coup b. like that. And as for us here at the fac-! 11 ' tory, that means our occupation's gone?" " Oh. I hope you'll go Kick to MallaNulla where you were, and work for us!" There." * jai

n "I think not. As you're going home, 1, j arid I cannot be of any immediate use to ;o'Xoil and Craven, 1 prefer to leave the "i firm's employ if you'll let me." j "We shall be really wiry to lose you. 1- But perhaps you have something better in view." ;.j "To tell the truth I have. And it 1- ; sti ikes me if I'm to make a fortune I must is look out for it myself." _ "I quite agree with you," said Kate. 2. " What was that you were going to show •e me? The thing you put in your pocket, if I mean." : " A keepsake that was given me. It's a Isjcharm. a. ju-ju that will bring fortune to ..somebody, and I was going to give it to ; you. But on your recommendation I shall j keep it for myself " ~| "You are quite right. It will be safer u ;for us to go our own several ways iron> here." j CHAPTER XIII. d' i AT THE LIVERPOOL END. ~j Now Godfrey O'Neill, deceased, was a » ; man who at various times in his life had ;e ; extracted from West Africa very consider- , i able sums of money. He was shrewd, he j. j wa« popular, he had the knack of resisting t j sickly climates, and he knew the possibilities of the Oil River's seaboard down to the ,' u last, bag of kernels. -tj! According to his own account he had j.j started life as a ship's purser People ! who were more fond of accuracy mention- '• i ed that as a matter of history he had first [ s 1 gone as cabin boy in a p.iim oil brig. But ' b- that as it may, he had been associated a ,with the coast from his earliest days, and j at the age of fivc-and-t wenty was trading 1 there on his own account. l j At first he stuck to an old trading hulk j | with moorings in the muddy Monk River, y i and battled with its swarms of cock- " ; roaches, and got together a business; but a : by degrees he gained the confidence of the [ s ! native riparian magnates, and by the time . j he was thirty he had built on piles a line "j! j set of factory buildings on the bank, had a ! bought a treaty with the then King ot jf ! Okky, and had built another factory at I | Mall'a-Nnlla, in spite of the fact that the jg | beach there was one of the most suri"i smitten on the coast. After thai he felt that his Liverpool correspondents were geti ting more th in their due share of his i hard-wrung profits, and so he put the coast _i factories under managers and came back " s i I<o the Mersey. And thereafter, with oc- . I casional visit-s to the coast and the islands, 0 | he made Liverpool his headquarters. : He had an office in Water-street, a warejJ house near Huskisson Dock, and a house

, JUIin."»UUI Y» 11' 11 uim* V juiui mil ovuuun dim . ugliness out at Princes Park. A sister, ; Mrs. Craven, whose unsatisfactory husband j had conveniently died on the coast, kept I house for him, and as she voted marriage • a failure, Godfrey professed himself as | quite ready to take her verdict, and was i not anxious to dabble in dangerous expert- ; ments. j Finally, as Godfrey O'Neill discovered i after a two years' trial of the style of liv- ; ing that suited him at Princes Park, that I it cost him just £900 a year, he saw very j little use in bestirring himself to earn j more. He quite admitted that there were other luxuries in the world that he did not indulge in. He might have kepi horses, for instance ; but lie happened to dislike them. lie might have had a French chef, only plain roast beef and plain roast mutton appealed more to his appetite, and a plain British cook at £20 a year produced these exactly to his taste. He might ■have had a, larger house; but frankly lie j did not want one. j So he went down to the office in Widerstreet every other day, and ceased to stir the business there when it showed any signs of averaging more than £1500 profit j for any one yearnot because he objected j to additional' wealth, hut because he far I preferred to play whist to pursuing money. I One may here own freely that Godfrey O'Neill was an active member of no less ( than live whist quartets, which met at j clubs and houses, and that was the amusement which after a long search he had discovered pleased him best. In the comfortable, ugly house in Princes Park, besides Godfrey and Mrs. Craven I and the two servants, there was a child, j who afterwards developed into the Kale I O'Neill of these memoirs. Godfrey O'Neill | brought her home on the last' visit lie made to West Africa She was then aged, at a theoretical reckoning, three years, and I she was more fluent in the Okkv tongue i than in English. She had never worn shoes ( till Godfrey bought her a pair in Las Palmas, on the voyage home. i "Is she white?" Mrs. Craven had asked. "White clean through," Godfrey had as- | sured her. "Then who are her people?" "That I shall not even toll you. Her I mother is dead. Her father has gone i under. He was a very clever man once, j though 1 must say he used to be more ; high and mighty i .an I cared about on the rare occasions that I met him. But as li say, lie's gone under, hopelessly." j "And presently," said Mrs.' Craven. | "when we let this little wild thing tam°d, i and clothed, and teach her to speak English, and go to church, up will come some : drunken reprobate to take her away gain i "No. he won't. I've fixed 'hat. He'lli ! never claim her again. To start with, he] ! doesn't know if she's in England, or Ca-j j nada or Grand Canary. 1 even changed I the name he called her by. I called heri ! Kate from the day 1 left him. and had her • christened by that, name in Sierra Leone j on the off chance she hadn't been christened j before. And to go on with he gave me his' ; word of honour that if I took her away he'd J ! never embarrass me by inquiring for her! '.gain. You see he was livi:i<- as a native, I and the child was running a.bout with the ; other picaninnies in the village, and I guess! I made him pretty well ashamed of himself ny what I said. The mother's dead, youknow.' " ! Po6f, said Airs. Craven, "he promised' rou. did he? And what do you suppose! the word of a man like that' is worth?" '"'he late Craven had, it will be remember-j ed. his strong failings.) " Ninety-nine beachcombers out of a hundred will lie as soon as look at you," Godfrey owned. This one is the exception. He will keep his word any rate, on this matter. He's just as proud as. a king." I " 'between drinks," suggested the widow. "He's more objectionably proud drunk than sober. He alwavs quotes Latin at one when he's full, and'then says, 'An, but! votive not been to school anywhere, so you'll not understand that.' You needn't! be frightened he'll call here, Jane. Just remember, 1 m a mat; with a taste for ease' myself. If I'd thought there was the smallest chance of being bothered with him ij shouldn t have saddled mvself with the! kid." " Well, said Mrs. Craven, "as you have! brought her, I suppose must do the! l>est we can for her. The average orphan-! age doesn't take them till they are six, huj I suppose if we hunt round we can find some sort of institution which will ac- 1 eep three-year-olds." j "Orphanage, h'm. Yon see, Jane, I was! thinking we might keep her ourselves. II am sure we could look after her." "I object to the word 'we.'" said Mrs. I Craven drily. , " Oh, I suppose most of the work would' tall on your shoulders." " I am sure of it." ' "Come along, old lady, don't you think! you can manage it? Kihy isn't a bad sort | of kid. know, I saw a goodish deal of; her on the steamer coming home." i I thought you gave her in charrre of! a steward?" ' "I ' I never told you that." I Mrs. Craven laughed. You see. I know' your little ways. "Steward, here's a ginj for you. If you nursery-maid the kid nicely till we get to Liverpool, and don't let me! see more of her than 1 want, and don't i let her come in and prattle when I'm play- i ing whist with Captain linage, there'll be another quid for you when we land. After! mat my sister will take her over, and she : won't want a tip at all." j H m, said Godfrey, "now diamonds' *rent in your line." - " I wouldn't be seen with one. I'll take i brown cloth gown, please." " Shall I order it?" "No, you can pay the bill." " Right Then vou will take Kittv and i 'ring her up here?" " You stupid goose," said Mrs. Craven, ! intended that from the moment I saw j ier. Cook's out buying her a cot this ninute-" Here then was the way that Kate finst | •ante into the house at Princes Park. She irrived without a surname, and Godfrey, -

. in spite of hints and plain questions, kept > back any further pedigree. The child ar--3 'ranged a name lor herself. When she had | !>een a year in gland she went out to a • I small folks party ii "Let me see, what's your name?" asked i the hostess, who had got tangled up 11 amongst her many small guests. t| The child had answered "Kate O'Neill" as a matter of course. She had called Mrs. • Craven Aunt Jane, and her brother Uncle >' Godfrey from the first, and after that , juvenile part v. she was introduced as " my niece Kate O'Nei.l. » As she irr u w, anything to do with West J Africa and with business fascinated her. > and curiously enough her principal in--1 structor in these matters was .Mrs. Craven. Godfrey, honest man, was not going to be r bothered. His repartee, when Kate asked • him anything, about the Coast was, " (Jo • a.nd invite someone to come in, and let 'make up a rubber of whist." When one 'day he died, and left Kate the O'Neill and j Craven business, both she and her aunt sup- ! posed he had done it as an effort of a ■ humour. 1 Mr.-. Craven had the house and furniture - at Princes Park, and a comfortable annuity, e to keep it up on. Kate came into a bu.sir ness- that had been thoroughly neglected. - 1 and allowed to run down til! it. was in a e very shaky position indeed, financially. "Sell it'," said Mrs. Craven, "fur what i it will fetch." »; "I'd rather run i: myself," said Kate. . j "Rubbish,' said her aunt, " you're tvent.ity, and the world's before you to enjoy, I ! Besides, my dear, you're sure to marry. i?c.l ] the business." j' "If you want plain fact, aunt, I don't . see why anyone should give sixpence for it. : and if we trie! to wind it up. it would z I mean, bankruptcy. Some of tile moneys . a very long way out." !j "Your poor uncle God rev intended to 'leave you comfortably off, I know.' e ; "And I'm pleased to think he died he-j e ;lieving he had done so. They had the quaintest way of keeping books down at j Water-street.* Cutting notches on a tally-1 j, stick was nothing to some of their dodges. . jTliey hadn't struck a proper balance-sheet j pi for vears, and both Uncle Godfrey Midi ! Mr. Crewdson really and honestly imagined ( that the firm was flourishing. | " You sell." said Mrs. Craven. "j "Not I. aunt. Uncle Godfrey left me s : the concern believing it to be a small forl tune for me, and a fortune I'm going to make out of it. and. not a small one either.' *1 "I don't believe in business women," ' said Mrs. Craven severely. "I'd rather I see a womanly woman. "I "My dear, said Kate. "You shall sec ? the two combined in me presently. I'm

I going to make a. very large and extensp •I fortune: but the moment you see anythin 1 unfeminine about me, 1 want you to tel : me. and I'll sol', oat forthwith." e Thereafter from eight o clock to six s thirty p.in. for live days a week Kate sa s j ill an in nor room of the Water-street office " with the ancient Crowd sun as a buffer be !wet'ii her and the world. She came iut 11 the place with a talent for figures, and " |good general idea of the business, and sli 1 sot herself first to the conversion of Mi k " c'rewdson. 1 ; That wort v o'd person was entirely <: ' |opinion that what was good enough fo 11poor Mr. Godfrey was c.iite good cnougl I for anybody else, and (when pits-sod) sax >so with unfriendly plainness, A man. ii II Kate's shoes, would lia.ve dismissed him 'land brought in younger blood. Kate pre I ! erred conversion. She knew that t.hoi» -(was a great quarry of information on mat titers West African stowed beneath Mr jjCrewdson's dull exterior, and .she niton Ided to dig at it. So she reduced his wages •j which he quite, agreed with her the bin r' could not afford, and then, unasked, offeree ? I him a tine commission on the next year t profits. It was curious to see how soot 1 she galvanised him into an opinion tlia rj these profits must certainly bo forthcom • M She laid in a typewriter, burned tin , office quills, wrote the firm's letters, sign : ed them "For O'Neill and Craven K -| O'Neill," and l>efore she know, it liai Icreated a personality, Ten ca.lers a daycaptains, pursers, traders, merchants want i ed to shake hands with your new head, Mr, , K a.nd went, away with the idea that ole Crf'wdson had suddenly developed capacity i and on the strength of it had stood hi nisei | a new signature. ■ j (To be continued on Saturday next.)