NEITHER STOREHOUSE NOR BARN.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLIV, Issue 13494, 22 May 1907, Page 10

NEITHER STOREHOUSE NOR BARN.

BY ALLEN EAINE,

Author of " A Welsh Singer," "By Bei-wen Banks." "Torn Sails," "A Welsh Witch," "Queen of the Rushes," ■ ':.. etc.. etc. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. [COPYRIGHT.] SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. - CHAPTER I.— Olwen Meyiic, daughter of the vicar of Llanidris, has just been left fatherless. She stands at the threshold of the old vicarage, which she is about to leave, and ponders on the past and the future. Her mother had died at her birth, and she has been nursed and watched over by Posy, an old woman whose coming she now await*. She eats her supper and looks at her five golden sovereigns. It is all the wealth she has. Posy enters, and they discuss Olwen's immediate departure. She is to visit her aunt Susan, who lives in Manchester, but proposes to go a round-about way to see Aberlaswen, a sea-side-place, once more. Posy commends her to the care of Seba, her sister, who lives just out of'Aberlaswen, at a spot called Rhosmor. Olwen Meyric proposes to tramp there. rosy tells her that Gwil Parry, who used to sing in her father's choir, has gone to America, his uncle Joshua having turned him out of doors for having taken up with a girl called Kitty Price. Posy and Olwen Meyric bid each other farewell. Early the next morning Olwen save pood-bye to her old home,' and sets out on her long tramp. She comes across a carrier, who.- gives her a lift. She lodges with his wife that night, and comes across a dark, handsome gipsy-looking girl, to whom she takes on instinctive dislike. In order to escape this girl's society she goes to her room for the night. Her window looks into a wood, and from thence proceed sounds of sweet music. ' CHAPTER ll. Olwen rises next morning just in time to see the dark girl go off in the waggon. She is soon on her way, and as her journey lies through a wood, she rests- there ana falls asleep. When she awakes the sun is setting, and she hurries on. She reaches a hamlet, where she passes the night, and is on her journey again early, next morning. She reaches another wood, and again hears sweet strains of music. She comes across the musician. . It is Gwil Parry. She had been singing to his accompaniment before they met, anil they are mutually sin-prised. He tells her he is on his way to America, and she says she is on her way to Manchester. He tells her some of his history. He is delighted to think he will have her companionship. ,He shows her his musical instrument, ' his own invention, and they sing again to its accompaniment. ■ -.;.. CHAPTER lll.—Olwen sleep at a little inn, and she and Gwil pursue their journey together on the morrow. She describes to him the -girl she had met, whom -Gwil recognises as Kitty Price. He shows her his inventions. They come to Llangethin, a busy little town, where Gwil comes across John Wilson, whom he wanted to see, and shortly after they both encounter Kitty Price. Her remarks bode mischief. That night- Olwen sleeps peacefully at a white house, and Gwil sleeps in an empty wood-shed. Kitty Price steals in while he is sleeping and looks over him with anger in her, eyes. CHAPTER IV. ISROKEX WHEELS. , What revengeful feelings incited Kitty Price to follow Gwil and Olwen into the wood she scarcely knew herself; she was only conscious of a malicious desire to "pay Olwen out" as she expressed it, for having refused to travel in her company, and through her to annoy Gwil Parry. Had she? found Olwen asleep and at her mercy, it is impossible to say what her vindictive feelings might have prompted her to do, but finding Gwil alone, she seemed- to hesitate. • ■ Approaching silently,' she stooped over him where he lay in the abandon of a tired sleep, and a 'sudden thought seemed to strike her. . The sleeper moved, and she retreated slowly; passing through the doorway her eyes . lighted on something that brought a fierce gleam into them, and the thin red lips parted in a smile which showthe small cruel teeth. For another moment she waited outside in the moonlight, while Gwil turned uneasily, and with Olwen's name upon - his lips fell into a heavy slumber again. She heard the name, and no longer hesitating slipped her hand carefully into the bag which Gwil had suspended on a knot of the unbarked doorpost. Quietly she drew forth an objectabout a- foot in length, its small toothed wheels of brass and steel shining in the rays of the moon, and using all the strength of* her firm wrists she broke it into several pieces, deadening the sound of the wrench by burying it in the folds of her dress. Now it was done!. The delicate wheels snapped, the wooden framework cracked, and swiftly and silently replacing the broken fragments she passed into, the dark shadow of the wood and was gone. """What was it that warned Gwil of danger near him? Something disturbed him, for lie started, . and sitting iip, looked around for the cause of his sudden awakening. His first thought was of his hag, and rising he unhooked it from its peg and kid it down between his straw pillow and the rough wall, passing his arm through its leather handh;; and thus perfectly satisfied of its safety he was soon asleep again, and never awoke until the sun was high in the sky and the woods were full of song. Full of song too was his heart-, as through a long green avenue he saw Olwen coming towards him. her step light and springy, her face radiant with the joy of living. She too, had slept later than usual, and had been rather frightened lest her fellow tiaveller should have strayed away in search of her. It was a distinct relief, therefore, to see him approaching, and her satisfaction -was plainly seen in her face. •

Again the new kettle was brought into requisition, and they breakfasted as usual in the most secluded nook they could find ; then came a. song or two with the meladone accompaniment before they resumed their journey. "What are you thinking of?" asked Gwil, when Olwen had walked for some time in a brown study. He had ceased to call her Miss Olwen, and had dropped the prefix unwittingly, but sometimes a curious consciousness made him avoid the Olwen too, indeed she too had become rather more reticent in the use of his christian name.

"I was thinking," she said, "how little we foresaw a month ago that we should be- thus travelling together; I used to see you in the choir with the other lads of the village, and dear father used to mention you sometimes, but I don't remember anything about you."

"I suppose not-," said Gwil, with a, red flush on his face. "I was nothing more to you than the other village lads!" "No," said Olwen, dreamily,, and entirely unconscious of the.pain she was inflicting. To him she had been the centre figure of all his boyish dreams, while to her "I am but one of .the village lads," he thought ruefully as he walked beside her up the mountain paths, so near, yet so utterly apart. It was a bitter truth, but one he fully realised. "I am nothing to her he would say to himself a dozen times in the day when some casual remark drew the clear brown eyes full upon him, or when he brushed the briars or kicked a stone from her path, and she would smile her thanks without a shade of embarrassment, then Gwil knew that the love that was kindling in his heart was utterly absent from hers. How he longed to ask her sometimes, " Olwen, do you know how I love you?" but the memorv of the vicar's words, "He is an honourable fellow," would rush vividly into his mind, and he would stifle the longing and, hide his feelings under a joke or a song. They had left the woods behind them now, and were entering a barer and more rugged part of the country, where the coast hills bounded the- horizon, and their path lay between the gorse and the heather. It was scantily populated, the farms lying far apart, their fields stretching up the mountain sides. . ; . The daisies decked the short, springy turf under their feet. There was a suggestion of salt in the fresh wind that blew in their faces; sometimes-a seagull flying inland passed far above their heads, and as they pressed on westwards both felt that at the foot of those bare hills was waiting for them a message full of deep import. At midday they had reached the top of the sea downs, where, here and there a clump of gaunt thorn bushes made a shelter ■ for the sheep ; and behind one of these, they sat, down to wait until the noontide heat was past. , • "Oh, what a view," exclaimed Olwen, "but half a mile further we shall sec the sea. I konw it, I feel it." "Yes, and I smell it," said Gwil, and he fell into a little sober musing. "Now it is my turn to ask where are your thoughts?" said Olwen. " You have been silent so long, and you hare such a pucker between your eyes." _ Gwil, who had been stretched on his back on the grass, rose, and opening, his bag. said, "Well, I will show you. I believe I have thought of an improvement in mv threshing machine. See here! While* he spoke he drew something brignt and shining, and gazing at it with a puzzled expression he searched again and drew out another broken fragment of Ins model which caused his face to blanch, and his hand to tremble. ■„,'•'.-, i * „„ "It is broken!" was all he said before throwing himself back on the grass again, and clasping his hands across his eves, as if composing himself to sleep; but sleep was far from him as he lay there, silently trying to realise the truth, and to gain courage* to face it. The work of weeks, and many hours of hard thinking; the model of what he had hoped would bring him wealth and honour. It was a bitter five minutes that he spent there on the hillside, while Olwen, dazed and miserable, feared to disturb him by any words of sympathy. ' She, did not . move even, but sat looking at the fragments, which he had thrown on the grass in despair. There was no sound from the suffering man, but below the clasped hands she saw the strong mouth set firmly, and the cheek gradually regain its colour. At last she could hear the silence no longer; she dare not touch those hard-locked fingers, she feared to intrude with words, but gently gathering together the broken fragments on her lap she spread her handkerchief over them, and waited quietly until Gwil should speak. "It is dreadful," he said, sitting up again. I depended so much upon its being taken up. Now I shall be nothing but a beggar." : ; "Oh, Gwil!" was all Olwen could say; but as he turned his troubled gaze upon her he saw that tears had filled her eyes almost to overflowing, and even in that hour of misfortune a throb of gratified feeling moved within' him. -,''• ~ ' "-Thank you for covering it," he said; "I can never bear to look at it again. You don't know what hopes that wreck dashes to the ground." .'.-•'■ . . "Yes, you must look at it, Gwil," said Olwen. "You are so clever, and it may not be so bad as you think. Come, see! It is only in four pieces." " Only in four pieces!" he said, slowly, drawing the handkerchief away with a groan. . '.-, •.,'.".-. ■ .. \ ■ ~ "And yon know you were just saying you had thought of an improvement. Well, you could have done nothing without taking it first to pieces. Don't look so unhappy! Oh, deal', oh, dear! What shall.we do?" and her voice trembled with feeling. "What shall We do!" The words .fresh spirit into Gwil. The very fact that she had identified herself. with him, that she had hoped with him, that she grieved with him, was balm-to his sorrow, an incentive to fresh effort, and picking up the broken pieces one by one he tried to adjust them to their respective '"places. "It is not so" bad as it might be," he said; " but it will take weeks to set them right and to alter." " Well, you have weeks between now and July, and I won't be with you to disturb you, Gwil." /".You disturb.me? I don't know how I could bear it without you!" and as he fixed his eyes upon her, and the trouble in his face made way for one that she had never discerned in it before, a strange new warmth awoke in her own soul, and a blush transfused her, face. "But how did it happen?" she asked, endeavouring to ignore tlie strange new guest- that had come to dwell in her heart. " How could it have happened without your knowing it'/" ; Gwil's fingers were trembling; nervously as. he held the broken pieces together, not as Olwen imagined from vexation at the discovery of the disaster that had befallen him, but still more from the ecstatic new hopes that were surging through his heart. Was this hour of disappointment to bring forth the happiness lor which he thirsted? At all events he recognised the wisdom of hiding from Olwen his budding hopes. " \'es, how did it happen?" he said. "I have been so careful, unci never had the bag out of my sight; I should have heard it snap, too," and after a few minutes' deep thought, he added, with a growing conviction, " In fact, it never could have happened without some human "interference!" and once more the colour receded from his face, and left it white even to the lips. " Devil 1" he said, suddenly starting to his feet. " What is it, indeed?" said Olwen, startled by his looks. "I * know ! I see it all!" he said. " A fiend has done this, a wicked woman! I see if, all." " "Has the same thought come to you and me, I wonder?" said Olwen. " "lis Kitty Price," said Gwil quietly, but with such a look of concentrated anger as she never thought his face could wear. "But when? How?" she asked. "Listen, and 1 will tell you. While you spent the night in the white house by the wood I sle,pt in a woodshed near by, and in the night I awoke with a start, and my first thought was of my models; but when I saw my bag hanging just where I had placed it on the door post, I got up and brought it nearer to me, and with my arm through the handle I went to sleep again feeling quite satisfied about its safety. "But mark my word, it was that dreadful girl's wicked act that woke me; I feltin my sleep that some danger was near. She did it, Olwen. In my deed I'm glad I did not catch her at. her work; I don't know what I might have done to her, for I have a hot, wild temper when it is roused." " Well, indeed! I believe you are right. It must have been she who did it. Who else in the world would be so cruel. I knew there must be some reason for my dislike of her. I felt a strange shrinking from her when I sat on the settle by her side in the carrier's house; and I thought 1 was so wicked, but I see now why it was." "And yet she has done you no harm!" said Gwil, ruefully fitting and refitting his fragments. None; but- she has to you," said Olwen, and she turned her head away to hide the hot colour that gradually transfused her face. Gwil, too, turned his eyes away, perfectly conscious that Olwen had tried to hide her embarrassment.-

A strange new element of disturbed consciousness had entered their lives; to her it came like a child angel, who gently touched the secret feelings, and bid them bloom while to him it had long been familiar, but was now rising to life with fresh and eager throbs of vigour. This disaster, should it fling him to the ground in despair? " No, by ——.'".he said, with such vehemence that his companion was startled. "It shall urge me on to fresh energy, Olvven," he cried. " I must repair the breakage, and, as you said, I can add my improvement; but I have no money, for I must keep enough to live upon till I getto Liverpool." "Oh, but here, here!" said Olwen, taking out her purse; "here are four sovereigns and some silver, and you must, j-ou must use it for your work; you can repay it when you have sold your model." "Never, never," said Gwil; "but, can diolch,' a hundred thanks. No, no! I must work and earn the money. I will never believe that a man who wants work cannot find it. Hark to the lark Miss Olwen. Her song is to remind us that these troubles are but trifles after all." He flung himself back on the grass again, drawing his cap over his eyes, and Olwen said not a word, but pulled at the daisies that grew around her, and looked sorrowfully over the downs. ' The air was full of sunshine and the song of larks. It was the last day of May, and the world was beautiful around them; but upon their hearts had fallen suddenly the shadow of a parting, which they had known must come, but which had grown more bitter with every hour of happiness since they had met. Olwen unslung her knapsack, and laid out their simple repast upon the grass, and for the first time they began their meal with scant appetite. A silence fell upon them, the meladone lav idle by their side, but neither made the usual suggestion of a song before starting again. The afternoon had waned, and the breeze was blowing more briskly from the sea when they rose to continue' their journey. ■■;'■ •■':'• .""'"''' " : Towards evening they rounded the shoulder of a hill, and both involuntarily exclaimed, "The sea! the sea!" for now the horizon was marked by a pale blue line. " Aberlaswen' must be there, Gwil," she said, "just at that opening between the hills."'' " Yes," he answered gloomily. "We shall soon.be there," and more soberly they pressed on towards another hill. . The road which hitherto had led them over the high moors now.began to descend steadily until, reaching the curve of a cliffside, they saw below them a. stretch- of golden sand, a group of little white houses, and beyond them a broad, blue bay. But the distance was greater than they imagined,.for the sun was setting when they reached Aberlaswen, and even then they preferred to seek a lodging for Olwen before they turned their steps towards the post office. They heard the splash of the waves on the beach, the shout of a sailor from his boat, the shrill sound of a cricket that chirped his evening song by some cottage hearth, and Gwil heard his own heartthumping in his ears as' they entered the little village shop together. ;, ;* Olwen was very pale, and her lips were parched a-s she asked the peasant woman behind the counter, "Is there a letter for me? lam Olwen Meyric." "Yes, miss vach, here it, is!",and fumbling between her bottles of sweets she held the letter towards Olwen, whose hand trembled as she took it, and with a word of thanks passed; out into. the roadway. "Let us go on the shore and read it there, Gwil," she said, and they went down the rocky road in. silence, between the two glowing lime-kilns, where the villagers were gathering for their evening gossip. 'Down on the shore, where the waves were breaking softly, they sat upon the , rocks, close to the swelling tide. ,'. ■ "Oh, it is beautiful," said Gwil, with a sigh, and Olwen echoed the sigh, although she was careful to hide it. ; " I "Yes," she said, " I could live here for ever. Ach-y-fi! How will I bear Manchester after this?" ■- ' "Ah! yes, your letter," said Gwil, as if it had suddenly entered his mind. ■, -n J. "Oh, yes, I suppose I had better read it," ' said Olwen, tearing the envelope, f and taking : out a black-edged letter. • : y ? ... ; • ."My Dear ; Niece (she read aloud), —•"•'»''» "Your letter containing the sad .news of your father's death reached me yesterday, just as I was leaving home for London, where I am going to stay with my sister till the second week in June. We are very sorry to hear of your fathers death, and we assure you of our sincere , sympathy with you in your irreparable loss. ~ ' ; V ' " With regard to your coming to live with us, such a step would require a good deal of thought both on your part, and ours. My husband and I are very quiet people, and accustomed to having our household arrangements carried on with regularity and precision, and I don't know how a young girl accustomed to the freedom of country life could accommodate herself to our ways. If, however, you think you can do this, we should very glad to see you at the end of my visit to London, say on the 14th. when I shall be at home, D.V.— remain, my dear niece, your affectionate aunt, ' J* "Susan Peris Jones," "Oh, dear," said Olwen. with a look of anxiety on her face that Gwil had never seen there before"the 14th! and , it- is the sth to-day. How can I go so soon? So many things to do, my box to send for from Posy, to put on my black dress, and my black hat. and to find my way to Manchester. I didn't think when I left Khydyser that it would be so hard, so difficult. I mean to find the. way. I thought I could do it all so easily, but now I feel as if I dare not, oh! I dare not! 'Twill be so strange, so lonely!" "Olwen! You shall not go alone, I will come with you if you will let me. Yes, to the very door." "Oh, Gwil! will you indeed? But I cannot expect that, you want to go on your own way." " I don't want to go on my own way until I am obliged to," said Gwil, "and what's more, I will not unless you order me." . • ...-'.. " But do you remember your broken model, Gwil? You have to set that right before you go to Liverpool." ; "Bub that can be done as easily if not more so in Liverpool than here in the country, for tools and appliances can be obtained more easily. I have a strong feeling, Olwen, that your father would like me to take you safely to your aunt's house." "Indeed I think he would," said Olwen. "Well, that's settled then, and now I vote Ave put that horrid day out of our minds." • "After all. 'tis more than a week," said Olwen, "Will my money last and pay fare to Manchester?only £4." "■.-'■■ • "That's heaps." "But no doubt I can manage somehow, like the birds of the air as dear father used to say, they have neither storehouse nor barn !". ■ "Of course not." interrupted Gwil, " neither have we, and Ave don't want them! We have the meladone at all events!" and they both laughed as Gwil drew it round from his shoulder, and began to play a stirring march, and once more trouble and care were cast to the winds. (To be continued on Saturday next.)