NEITHER STOREHOUSE NOR BARN.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLIV, Issue 13480, 3 July 1907, Page 10

NEITHER STOREHOUSE NOR BARN.

[PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.]

BY ALLEN RAINE, Author of " A Welsh Singer," " By Berwcn Banks," "Torn Sails." " A Welsh Witch," " Queen of tho Hushes," etc.. etc.

[COPYRIGHT.] CHAPTER XV. I'AIt.VDISK AGAIN. Thk old sitting-room at I'hosmor was lighted up by the sunset glow, and its two occupants were busy each with his own thoughts. There hud evidently been some previous conversation between them o£ a personal 01 confidential nature, for after long gaze into the fire, the younger man rose suddenly, saying, Well, I had better go to Aberlaswen. Jeremy Jones is going to Caermadoc to-morrow, and has promised to drive me there. I must go and find out what time he starts. You won't be dull alone just for one day, will you, sir':'' "Well, I will be dull said Abel Hughes, " but, my dear boy, I must not be selfish. j I am an old man and you are young, and 1 j ■am very pleased that you have given me J your confidence. Your mother, .sweet Jenniter, and I were great friends, but all that' went to the winds when your father camel by and made love to her. "l is no wonder I have grown so fond of you, Gwil. Yon have brightened my old house up with your music and your presence, and i owe you much, much, much ! Weil, 1 am trying to repay you. -Mr. George Lucas will be down here next week, and then, my dear Ooy, i will make all arrangements for leaving this place to you at my death. Until then, I want you to fee! 'tis your home, dull and bare as it is. It was anything but that long ago; we used to dance in the hall of an evening, till the moon 4 shono in upon us. They were a merry family, the Hugheses, and Jennifer was the flower of them all, 1 thought." "1 don't find it dull, sir, or bare; my own room Jennifer's room as you :ail it, my dear mother's have had made very bright for me, and I am sure this room is comfortable and cheerful enough lor anything. The hall—well, it lias tho organ; that is enough. But about that lease for John Owens, of Ail-v-bryn, I'll hurry Mr. Ben Lewis up with it, and get the matter settled at once." "Ah, sny dear boy, do; you are so energetic and clever. Wonderful! By the by, when you were .speaking about this poor girl whom you have lost, Gwil, I remembered that when you came here first with Seba, surely there was a girl who sat upon that window seat and listened was that Ohven?" "It was, indeed'.'" "Well! She was von- nice and quiet. If yon ever find her, I believe I could bear to have her in this house." Gwil made no answer, and the old man added:

" I believe I would like it." "That, sir, is a Happy dream, but only a dream. I must banish idle thoughts, and go to Aberlasweu; I won't be long. Here are the newspapers." , . * " Oh, that's all right," said the old man, sinking into his easy-chair with a look of pleased content. A light and cheer had entered his life which had smoothed many of the lines out of his gentle face. After Sena's death his. loneliness had weighed heavily iipon him, and the defalcations of his steward or agenta careless spendthrift who had wasted most of his time in useless journeys from one fair to anotherhad at last decided him to venture so far out of hi.s usual groove as to write to his lawyers in Liverpool, with the result as we have seen, of Gwil's acceptance of the situation offered him, and his arrival at Rhosmor, an event which at first caused' Abel Hughes a flutter of nervous fears. This uneasiness, however, had soon given place' to a sense of great satisfaction when he recognised in his new agent the young man who had delighted him so much with his music on a former occasion, and when gradually he had discovered that Gwil ■was no other than the son of the only woman whom he had ever loved, his happiness was complete, for, being of a dreamy, sentimental nature, he nursed the memories of his past sorrows, although their bitterness had long faded out of his life, and the new sensation of having someone of his own kith and kin to care for him, and to be cared for, made such a pleasant change in his life, that Gwil could not but rejoice at the strange fate that had brought him as an inmate to Rhosrnor.

Late in the following evening, when darkness had fallen over river and field, a man arrived at the Donddu Ferry. Seeing the boat ( was lying moored to the bank, he stepped into it at once, and shouting "Hoi, hoi," passed on to the stern. But it was late, and for some time no one appeared, and Thorny, the ferryman, coming out with a lantern, called out also, directing his voice and his - looks towards a little red window in the gable of the cowhouse roof. Hoi, Mari!" he shouted, for he had decided to call Olwen by the same name as his former servant had borne, and she had gladly assented to this, and a tap at the window showed his summons had been heard. ' ! "Make haste, ynss! Here's a—a —lemmy see," he mumbled. " What is it waiting here?" and he peered through the dusky darkness at the passenger who seemed to be waiting very patiently, drumming with his fingers on the boat edge, and looking down at the dark stream that flowed on swiftly towards the sea. ' : "Yes. .«',> 'tis a gentleman." he muttered, "and in my deed I think 'tis the Rhosmor agent," and returning to the bank, he recommenced shouting up at the little window: "A gentleman waiting, Mari ■ make haste," and soon it grey figure came hurrying down the steps. "I was asleep." she explained, as she passed the old man, and grumbling he returned to the house. The passenger stirred a little as he saw through the gloom a woman, who stepped lightly into the boat and began to scull across the stream, standing up at-the stern, and swaying backwards and forwards with the motion of the oar. j With the length of the barge-like boat be-' tween them, Gwil forgot the rower'.'* existence, for he had fallen into a brown study as he watched the river flowing swiftly on. Lost in his. dreams, they were nearly halfway across the river when he started to his feet, saying, "Why, there are two oars! Let me take one and you the other, instead of sculling across." Without answering she sat down, and in a dull, listless manner pushed one oar towards him, and taking the other herself, they.were soon in the middle of the stream, the soft dusk around them, with only the sound of the oars in the rowlocks to break the silence, until thev had crossed to the 1 other side, where Gwil stepping ashore j turned round to pay his small fare. 'think-! ing the girl was about to come on shore also, he held out his hand as if to help her. but she withdrew hastily into the darkness. "No, thank you, I go back," she said. and began to scull rapidly across the river again, but her words, the first she hud spoken, caused a rush of blood to the young man's head, a- violent throbbing at his heart, and almost faint with emotion, he stretched his hands out over the water, calling hoarsely, "Stop! stop! Who are you? Come back! Oh, Olwen, is it you?" He could hear the regular beat of the oar at the stern, it was already growing less distinct. In a fever of excitement he called again: "Come back, woman; ferry girl,! come back. I implore you !" The sound of the rowing ceased, and for a moment only the slow flow of the river ■was audible. Gwil listened intently, standing still at the edge of the water, with hands outstretched to', the misty distance, and surely out of that distance a girlish voice came clear on the night air.

" What is it?" she cried, as she came into sight. "Why do yon call me back?" and she stayed her oar and stopped a few yards from the. little strand. .

"Come! Oh, come nearer!" he cried, and the girl bent towards him as with the slow movement of one oar and then of another, she drew nearer the whore, leaning forward with wide open eager eves; for whoso voice was this that was calling her through the dusk? Nearer and nearer she,

rowed until the boat grated l on the shingle. She sees the dark figure standing on the strand, she sees the outstretched hands, and hears the agitated -voice, calling: " Olwen, Ohven, is it you, my love," and with a cry of joy she answered, "Gwil, Gwil, it is I," and springs to land, ami in % moment is clasped to his heart. A long silent embrace, a soft murmur of loving words, while the night winiLswayed the branches above them, and the river whispered gently in its (low. The grey clouds that had gathered over the sky seemed to separate and move away as if by magic. The moon looked out'between them, and shone full upon (iwil's bent head, and upon the happy lace raided to his.

Silent from strong emotion they looked into each other's eyes with a happiness too deep for words, and it was Olwen who fit last broke the tension by exclaiming, "Oh, Gwil! Have we beaten them all, then?"

" Yes," said Gwil, freeing her fo v a moment to look at her. Yes, that's just it, Ohven, we have beaten them all! Mistakes and cruel circumstances, unkind fate, sickness and sorrow, proprieties and the cold restrictions of town ways—to the winds with them all, beloved ! We're together again, you and I, in the world alone with only the stars above us, and the voices of Nature breathing around us." "Bill how has it happened?" she said, with a. sob of joy in her voice. "How, indeed, Olwen! Tell me how it is f find you here on the dark river alone." " It will take a long time to tell, but I am longing to make it all plain to you, and to know how you came here instead of being in America." "Did you not receive my letter, then, telling you all that?" "No. oh, no! Not a word, Gwil, not a word of news from you, or about you. since that last miserable good-bye' at ' Glynderw' gate, not even an answer to the last letter which I wrote in the post office at Aberlaswen when 1 found yours waiting there. I addressed it to John Wilson's care, as you told me, and when day after day passed, without a word from you, oh, Gwil, it was dark and drear!" "I see how that- is," said Gwil, "and what a fool I was to think such a roving man would be long in the same place. He has shut up his house, and taken to the road again, and I have no doubt my letter was found under the door by the next tenant. It would have been wiser to give you my address at Rhosmor, but when I wrote it was not quite decided when I should come, and I did not know on what terms I should be received in my new old home: but, Ohven, I am here as a son. 'tis my home, love, and I am only waiting, and the old man is only waiting, for you to come and make it the brightest spot on earth. We've had a bad dream, beloved ; we're awakening from it, and I may speak to you now, Ohven, no sense of dishonour keeps .me, back. Out of the gloom and darkness of the past months you are coming to me, a? you came from the shadows of th" • river. I have you here safely, your hand in mine. Such happiness seems impossible after nil my doubts and fears, and you, Ohven, anwyl! have you missed me as I have you?" "Oh, Gwil. I have hungered for a sight of you, for the sound of your voice." "Come, then, let us go," said Gwil.' ' "hut the boat, what, shall we do with) that?" "Let. us take it back to the boat-! house." "Yes." said Ohven, clapping her hands with delight. "Let us take it back, audi put the penny on the thumb latch! Timmy knows I am going to-morrow. Posy! has made me promise to live with iter,! and that again is so wonderful —dear Sebii | dead. Posy living in her house; are we living in a fairy tale?" " Yes, perhaps in the. Mabinogion, which | I thought of when I first saw yon in Coed du." Crossing the tide once more, they fastened the boat up before turning to the path by the riverside ; the stream flowed j by them lisping and gurgling in the flags | and rushes, as if it wished to join in their happy confidences, and together once more! they followed the course of tiie Donddu, and drew near the woods of Rhosmor.

"And seel the dear old moon, Gwil. has come to look down upon us, just.as she did before we parted and lost each other. We only want the meladone to make it perfect." "The meladone will be with us soon. too. It is now on its way across the sea! And thereby hangs a tale, Olwen, too long to tell you now; but 1 may just say it has been duly appreciated in America, has been well taken up, and is likely to pay me well."

"Our dear old friend, Gwil! We will sing to it again, on the river, and in the woods !"

"And look, Olwen. isn't that the twinkle of Posy's window? Must we go in at once, love?" But Posy herself decided that question, for she had heard their voices, and now came out at the open doorway.

It was too dark to see her face, but. her voice was full of satisfaction and welcome, and she laid hold of both their hands, and drew them into the cottage with words of warm greeting. "Come in! Come in, my little children," she said. " I have a bright fire and cosy supper for you. 1 knew you would come, I planned if all." and she laughed gleefully, shoving hei toothless gums and chuckling with selfapproval. : Well ! it was a cheerful meal, the coffee standing on the hob, the toasted cheese frizzling before the fire, the clinking cups and saucers, and Posy presiding over it all like a goddess of comfort. And while they sat there in the firelight she laughed and cried by turns, as Olwen told the story of her adventures, of her aunt's and uncle's kindness, of the terrible homesickness which had weighed her down, of the ! fever through which she had been nursed ! by Kitty Price, of her fall from her aunt's good graces, of her escape, and her final breakdown.

! And then came Owil's story, vvhii-Ii we I already know with its happy climax. "At Rhosmor, 01 wen, I am waiting for you; it is my home if you will share, it : but if not, anwylid, I will cast it all to the winds, and turn our faces once more to the woods and mountains." "Oh. but. T. will," said Olwen, "if the dear old man will have me. Back to paradise, Gwil. It seems too good to be ; true. [the end.]