THE HAVEN.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLVI, Issue 14110, 12 July 1909, Page 3

THE HAVEN.

; BY EDEN PRILLPOTTS, Author of " Sons of the Morning." " Children of the Mist," "The Whirlwind," " The Secret Woman." " The Mother," etc.. etc.

[PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.]

[COPYRIGHT.] CHAPTER XVlll.(Continued.) Their love Mas artless and sweet as dayspring on the sea. The light that presently painted the cliffs with the tender tones of ripe fruit spread over them also, and their hearts throbbed in the roseate gentleness of evening. They cold not part; they could not move. "If us'might but sit here just loving each other for ever, through sunlight and moonlight!" said Deborah. If but we might! But there's man's work to be done, Deb. And I swear you've made me feel terrible vanlike today. But not manlike enough to tell it out, eh? You don't bid me to tell father about it yet, Deborah?"

"Only tell about it to me," she answered, , " You'll have to tell me about it a thousand thousand times more afore ever I can believe such a beautiful thing. But none else. We'll hug it close for a long while. 'Tis loveliest so. I don't feel J. could tell anybody —save the birds and the butterflies and such, as won't blab it again:" <

"Ah!" he said, "how we think alike! I feel the very same, 'Tis a thing I won't trust out of our keeping. None shall know it till some poor man comes to you to say the same. Then you'll have to tell him that you'm tokened."

Tokened—tokened—the loveliness of the word, Ned!"

Ho held her tightly again, and kissed her cheek.

" So 'tis, —when it happens to yourself. Though, somehow, nought much if you hear it about other people."

"A secret—what a secret! But how if it jumps out? You'm so strong that you can hide anything, like a grown man, as you say; but I'm only a weak thing, and 'twill bo on my tongue to sing it and my lips to laugh it. And my very eyes will say it, Ned, when I think suddenly upon it." "You'll soon get used to tlio idea. Deb. Perhaps, after the first fun of it be gone, you'll feel sorry you was in such haste to take such a poor chap as me."

"You dare say that! No, never, never will I change. You're more like to. I've always loved remember that, Ned— always. Didn't I kiss you when you had to go to sea—and me only a dinky maid of fourteen then? But 'twas love of you made me, though maybe I didn't know it myself." "And —I didn't know neither; but when you kissed me in the dimpsy that night it made me hate the sea worse than ever." "Then I'm sorry I did it." 'He held her hand without speaking. Then she surprised him. . "The loveliest things be so cruel short! The sun was up yonder when you axed me, and now it's sinking. Ax me again, ax me again, Ned, afore 'tis out of sight. Say it all over again! ' 'Twill not be like the. first time but 'twill be good to hear it again.' He laughed. " Tilings said can't come back. I couldn't go over it again, more than you could go back on your promised word." "But —just offer for me again— once!"

"Well, so 'tis. I want you, Deborah, to be my wife come presently, and I ax you now, for mortal fear there'll come another stronger than me, and"

"" Wife'—' wife,' what a fine word ! And so I will then bo your wife, and you'll be my husband—my" husband, Ned Major. ' Mrs. Deborah Major'— think of it— such a slip of a thing like undersized ; and good-for-nought but to love —and then—suddenly— 4 Mrs. Deborah Major'!" The rapture and the flame of these great moments silenced them presently. ,}, They sat together, close as the' rock and the flower, hand in hand, linked heart to heart with shared joys and hopes and longings. Nothing pased between them but intermittent squeeze of fingers. The magic message of an absolute understanding throbbed back and forward with their pulses. Love forgot that they were children. A fine dignity marked their attitude now. They were content to kiss no more nor speak no more, but silently follow thoughts in a communion closer than words could weave or eyes signal. Their young spirits were never nearer than then; the shared , life of years to come; the shared happiness and sorrow, triumph and ' failure, served only as the visible crown and spire of that dual fabric whose foundations were welded now and for ever in this boy-and-girl glory of pure devotion. >

• He loosed her hand presently, and turned and picked a flower. "Here," he said, ' I can't give you no ring, Deb, for 1 haven't got no money to buy one, if I dared; but this'll do for the present. Press it in a book, and take it tor tokening." " They'm . terrible tender flowers," she said. " Pick another as will last better. " Here's a bit of clover, then." "And I'll give you one, Ned." No, you won't. 1 want something better for myself —something closer to you it bit- of your. »)\vn, own precious self, Deb."

Ho took out his knife and sawed off a little lock of her hair.

" There," he said. ' That'll keep so close to me as I know how to make it. I've got an old locket at home as belonged to my mother. Lydia didn't want it when the things was gone through, so I took it on the quiet and hid it in my treasure box. There's hair in itmy great grandmother's, or some such bygone party. But that I'll fling away, and put in this here little dear, darling black curl; and 'twill go next my skin for ever, Deb."

They talked on, and knew not hunger or the passage of the stars. Then darkness thrust itself upon them, and they perceived that, save for themselves, ' the great cliffs slumbered. The insects were silent, the flowers were closed, the birds had gone to rest. "They'll fear for you," said Ned. "I'll see yoa home quick. We ought to have got off this place by light, tor 'tis tricky half-wav up." But love held a lantern to her feet; she passed unfearfui upward, and only grew timid when lie prepared to leave her. " I hale for you to go," she said. " The time' will seem so cruel long. , There's rising up a dreadful fear in. me that you'll be a grey-headed old man afore I see you again!" : '• , "A fortnight's long, and awful long," he admitted, " but 'tis a fortnight nearer to getting you." "I'll never be patient enough and brave enough to be worthy of such a wonder, Ned." " Kiss me once more, if you ban't tired of it," he answered. " God knows, however, I can hide this out of sight. 'Tis only a question in my mind which of us be "likely to let it out first." "I won't—trust me for that," she promised. Then they parted, and- within ten minutes life fell harshly on Deborah's dream, and yet a word was said that delighted her and made her forgive the rest. " I won't" have you gadding about like this after dark with young Major, or anybody else," said Mrs. Honeywell. " Here's Ned three parts a man; and we all know what sailors are when they come off the sea; and though you'm. small, you'm getting on now—up home sixteen years old; and 'tisn't light; so don't you do it again." ' -v Deborah promised then she went up to her room and put Ned's clover into her hymn book at her favourite hymn. • ~ (To be continued daily).