THE RED FARM.

New Zealand Herald, Volume L, Issue 15201, 15 January 1913, Page 11

THE RED FARM.

PUBLISHED BT SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

: BY MORICE GERARD, Author of " The King's •; Signet," " John • Montcalm," "The , Unspoken Word," '■' The Broken Sword," " The TJniseen Barrier," etc.

COPYRIGHT.

CHAPTER XXin.—(Continued.)

Mes. Montanet gave a little shudder.

■:■ "Are you cold, mother?" > ■ ' No, not at all." She did not explain the impression produced upon her but her daughter understood felt something very like it herself. Perhaps• they •were a little tired with the journey and drive, Clarice explained to herself; for the

sense of repulsion which had come over her when she first saw the Eed Farm was an impression which her mother had evidently felt ; even more than she had herself. .':'■} : -\'-. : : '\ .•'■■. •'■">.".'• ■■•>".'.: : '

A nearer view helped to some extent to dispel the illusion, but the memory of it remained; ever afterwards it suggested to Clarice streaks of. blood staining the dull stone. It was evident the builder of the house had two things in his mind first he must have loved the sea, for the upstairs windows had a clear view, unimpeded, of'the waters of the Channel. The ■ house was not exactly situated on the lip ;of the headland; between it was a courtyard with a wall of similar stone to that of the house, and beyond that again fifty yards of short, stubby wmd-grass, i as it is locally called which is indigenous !to altitudes. Secondly, the builder had in view comfort, and it could only be obtained in a building thus situated by solidity. The walls were of great thickness, the casements of the windows _ double throughout and protected by jalousies which could be closed at will. It was a four-square building, hot architecturally beautitul in any sense, but suggesting that the rooms were spacious and pleasant to live in. Minnie pulled up by instinct at the outer gate of the enclosure. Tyacke jumped down, but before he could get to the door of the carriage at the back of it Clarice had alighted, and had stretched out a hand to help her mother. "I'll bring in the rugs, miss," -, "Thank you." , ' ' Mrs. Montanet was a little stiff from sitting. Clarice gave her an arm up the flagged pathway towards the front door. Some attempt had been made at turning the space on. either side of the path into a garden-plot. Large fuchsias grew near the front door, flanked by a hedge of berberus; along the side walks nasturtiums climbed luxuriantly. ■ The door opened as they approached Mrs. Tyacke stood in the porch curtseying in the old-fashioned way.. Clarice was curious to see hershe had wondered what the wife would be like, after seeing the husband and entertaining that feeling of antipathy for him which was not lessened l in the slightest degree. Mrs. Montanet again remembered the description which the former owner of the property had given her. As far as she could see, it fitted exactlyhere, in the flesh, was the small, shrinking woman, whose -will and individuality had ; been suppressed during many years until it had became practically non-existent. Clarice caught one glance, which was eloquent in itself, as Mrs. Tyacko's eyes, passing by them, saw the figure of . her.husband as he stood at the head of the pony, turning it to go towards the stable at the back. In that glance, whether rightly or wrongly, Clarice thought she saw a look of question as to what he felt about the new arrivals, a verdict which would affect all their after-relationships. In a second Mrs. Tyacke was all attention to her hew .mistress, i t - j '~""'• I'm afraid; ma'am, you are' tired after your long journey. I've put hot water in your rooms, and can serve tea' as soon as you are pleased to ring for it." ::.:'■: "Thank you, Mrs. Tyacke." Mrs. Montanet replied. "I should like tea first; the air was getting keen during the last part of our . drive,' and I am feeling chilled." '•'.-■

But the chilled feeling was not wholly produced by the air, nor was it absolutely external. Clarice knew this, as well as her mother. " .

,"' Mrs. Tyacke had done her best to make the Red Farm homely and habitable ror the new arrivals. Bright log fires blazed in tho two principal sitting rooms on th© ground floor, and Clarice found a similar welcome when she . went upstairs, which she did almost immediately, with a certain natural curiosity to see her new surround-/ ings. Most of the furniture from the Vine Cottage had been put into store, but a few of the more beautiful things had been sent on in advance. Mrs. Tyacke had shown a good deal of intelligence in the way-she had put things out, recognising by instinct those which belonged to Clarice, and arranging them in her bedroom.

Clarice thanked her with a bright smile, after a brief glance round the room. "You have done it all just as I like," she remarked. V . Mrs. Tyacke, who had followed her upstairs and stood just within the room, flushed! with pleasure. Already each was conscious of a likiug for the other, of a bond of sympathy between them—to Clarice an exactly opposite impression to that, which "Tod" had created.

A cosy tea was served in the diningroom, laid in the pleasant western fashion, on an oblong table in the centre. Upon it were hot cakes, made by the deft hands of the housekeeper, and the silver tea-set which, burnished to a maximum of brightness, reflected the glow from the fire as the burning logs sent out bright flashes of flame in all directions.

"This is comfortable," Mrs. Montanet said, :as Clarice drew up. an, easy-chair by the table for her, and she settled into it. Clarice herself pouring out tea, taking the head of the table. "I begin. to feel at homo already." ' ' "I am so glad, mother. I think you will like your bedroom, too. I went into it after seeing my own. The only thing objectionable is that it looks out over the moor at the back, instead of facing the sea, as mine does. I asked' Mrs. Tyacke why she had selected it for you. She said that side of the house was thought less exposed and warmer, especially in the winter. There is a door between the two

rooms, just'as'■ we had at Vino Cottage." "I expect Mrs. Tyacke is right. She has lived here long enough to know." "There is another room, just like mine, on the other side of the passage, so that in the summer, if you cored to change, you could use it during the warm months, and go back for, the cold .time of the year. .. \" ~ • "■ ' .'■--'; "We shall sec. I know Mr. Conrad Montanet said: in his letter he never wintered here, so we shall have an experience which he did not."

As Mrs. Montanet spoke.the wind shook the double casements. The tide was just on the turn, beginning to flow. With the coming up of the tide, as so often happens on the seaboardi a smart breeze was

making itself felt. i Yes, I am glad now I am at the back of the house," she commented. *'How the winds must beat on the front when it is really stormy." , After tea Clarice showed her mother her room. The evening was closing in but not yet dark. j They stood together and looked out of the window. The. room had two in it; one faced the. open mcor, the other commanded a view of the outhouses and yard at the back. As they stood they caught a glimpse of the cart with their luggage coming in at the back gate, which was open. They had passed it coming/Minnie being quicker than the horse in the shafts, and having, also a lighter weight at-the back'of her. At the same moment Tod Tyacke came from a stable at the side leading the pony, which he ■ hitched against the entrance, and assisted to unload the cart. Mrs. Tyacke came to help with the lighter things.' .'-.' ,' '.-'' ' ■ < ' ' > . Mrs. Montane and Clarice stood watching until the transaction was complete. A foaming tankard—probably cider—was brought for the driver of the cart, and he received a douceur with which he seemed well satisfied. '■ t '/ •':■ '..:' : 'v':' ■>. '■ Tod jumped on the pony's back, and' rode out at * a rapid 1 pace. Mrs. Tyacke remained talking for a few minutes with the man - who had brought the luggage. Then he got into the cart and drove after

The interest of the little scene was oyer, although the incident remained fresh In their memory. In a land where nothing happens " small things assume great proportions. _ Clarice was longing to go out to explore a little; before night began, with all the eagerness and zest of youth in a new environment. She had intended putting on her hat and coat directly after tea, but the arrival .of the luggage delayed her. Mrs. Tyacke brought in their more personal belongings, then helped Clarice to unpack, while Mrs. Montanet sat by the fire and looked on, occasionally making a suggestion. . " I am sorry Minnie had to be taken out again this evening after her journey to fetch us. I hoped she had' done her work for the day. ' Mrs. Tyacke was just taking a brush and comb bag out of a valise when the remark was, made; her . hand shook a little, and she dropped it. She turned round in a half-scared fashion towards the girl, and searched her face, as if wondering whether there was any special thought at the back of the casual remark. "I am sorry I am so clumsy," she said.. "I suppose it's my rheumatism; it takes me all of a sudden sometimes." : ';

■.:•■'' I expect this is a bad place for rheumatism," Mrs. Montanet put in. "'.- " I think so," Mrs. Tyaeke assented, not as if she were personally interested. Then she went back to Clarice's first re-, mark. " I don't think, miss, Minnie was tired; she had a mash after she came in, with plenty of meal in it. I made it for her," - . \ '. ■'.'.. .

• "Has she far to* go ?" A pause before the answer, as if Mrs. Tyacke was wondering in what way she should ireply yet the question was. simple enough- " No, uiiis, only to the Black Combe mine— three miles." , . "

. "Is Black Combe mine the one on the estate , :' ,•

"Yes, miss." She seemed so reluctant to. say more that Clarice dropped;.the, subject; at the same time the 'woman's hesitation created an atmosphere of doubt which would not have been there had she replied directly, as if the question was a trivial matter. .; '

Before Mrs. Tyacke left she asked what time ... they , would like an evening meal, and was told seven o'clock.

Clarice} settled her mother in the sittingroom with her knitting. A lamp with a green shade was placed on a little table at her elbow. • ' i

"I am going out to get a breath of fresh air," Clarice said. " You will take care of yourself, dear. Don't run any risks." - Clarice laughed. " You can rely upon that. I. will give all motorcars plenty of elbow-room lor the future. I don't suppose the cliff will be crowded* with them!" ■.:■'' ■.„ ■

She went upstairs to put on her things, looked out and saw the sun had set, but had left a red glow on the sky over the sea; she would be able to enjoy a short stroll before it was actually dark. She,_ ran quickly downstairs, just put her head in at the door to wish her mother good-bye, then went to the entrance leading to the front of the farm. The heavy catch of the door clicked loudly as she opened "v it; immediately afterwards she beard hurrying steps coming from the back of the house. The outer part of the hall Was, uncarpeted, rugs being on the floor opposite the principal rooms. ; ' : r t ' Clarice turned and saw Mrs-. Tyacke shuffling towards : her. A lamp .pendant from the ceiling of the hall showed the woman's face,; it was white,, and she seemed to be struggling. for breath. : "What is it, Mrs. Tyacke?" , Nothing, miss—excuse me, you are not going out?" $ " Only for a little while) a few minutes* to get the air." ' Mrs. Tyacke laid a hand on her arm. "I shouldn't, miss, excuse me, the cliff is dangerous, at night. „- Clarice smiled. "I will not . go near the edge; I will be -careful, I promise you." ' •

CHAPTER XXIV. Mrs. Tyacke turned half round and looked down the passage towards the" ■ back premises, which, . shut , off from the rest of the house, were exclusively, used by her husband, with a furtive . suggestion l or fear about her face. Clarice felt sorry for her, and at the same time a little irritated and impatient. For what was she listening ? Of what was she afraid ? The answer suggested itself in two words—"her husband:" Did he beat : her, or was. merely soma moral compulsion which was exercised by the big man over his miserable partner for life! ' , Mrs. Tyacke apparently satisfied herself by the evidence of her ears. She once more tux-ned to Clarice. ' ,:

.'•■ "I was nonthinking of the danger of falling over the cliff, miss, although that is possible in the half-dark, but there are other things,"she paused, then/spoke more rapidly— the old disused mine lies away to the right, after you leave the courtyard';, it has two or three openings which are hidden : now by gorse bushes, and half closed up; by brambles, but the mouths are there just the same "—she gave a shudder I always think anyone might fall into them and lie there, perhaps with' a broken leg, or insensible, no one knowing,' no one coming near, not a soul, except .ourselves, for milesit's horrible to think of itmaybe all through a long .night, dying alone there in the mouth of the pit." She had not removed her fingers from,, Clarice's arm, and as she evolved this mental picture her grip tightened, until the bony * fingers compressed themselves on her flesh to the extent of physical pain. ' You get morbid living here alone, Mrs. Tyacke, and you imagine these things. Your husband is out a good deal, I suppose? " " Why do you think that ? " she said, peering up ' into Clarice's face. The girl was half a head, taller than the woman.

"Well, of course, he has his work 1 to do," Clarice replied, soothingly, "with the farm, and looking after the animals arid the garden." ■ " Oh, yes." Mrs. Tyacke replied, visibly relieved, "he is a good one to work, is.; Tod." "It leaves you very much alone, and you can have no friends in such an out-of-the-way spot as this. It will be nicer for you having us to live in the farm. " Mrs. Tyacke nodded. "I must be going back," she said 1 , "he may be home any moment. He would not like me to be talking here, but you will be careful, miss, won't you ? If you must go out, •keep to the left, not to the right," 'she added, with whispering, emphasis, "not on any account." In a second she, was shuffling down the passage again. Clarice opened the door and went out. It required some effort to shut it again, owing to the fact that the wind blew directly that way. ; As she walked' down the path she wondered; the little scene was so mysterious. The warning was hot unnatural; it was, in , fact, necessary if the entrances to the . long- disused \ mine were thus left exj posed. But the manner .in which the warning was conveyed served to indicate that Mrs. Tyacke 'was strangely uneasy with regard to this feature of the cliff. Hero was a human problem, new in her experience. Clarice was woman enough to be inquisitive— as to what it all meant. The impression the Red Farm conveyed when they first saw it, in some way added, to and deepened the sense of mystery, of something hidden, Avhich the woman's whole manner conveyed. Clarice followed •< the instruction given her, turning to the left instead of the right as she left the courtyard. Here on the open face of the cliff she felt the full force of the keen wind blowing into her' nostrils, straight from the sea, the taste of salt on her lips, as a scud of foam passed over . her and swept by. Below i her the actual water . was : hidden from ; sight by the cliff-brow, but both to right ' | and left. she could see it stretching away for miles, dark at a little distance out, white with boiling foam where the tide; flung itself . against the rocks, rising into columns of spray, then receding with a dull roar, only to renew the attack a second later. If the . sea presented ' this aspect on a comparatively mild evening, with a moderate breeze blowing, what must the, effect be—grand, inspiring, fearsome—when the winter storms raged over the coast, and hurled themselves impotently against the jutting headlands on which the Red Farm was situated ? (To -be continued daily.) ,