SHORT STORY.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXI, Issue 18601, 8 January 1924, Page 3

SHORT STORY.

KIT BURNS HER FINGERS.

BY J. A. NIMMO. (Copyright.) They stood on the disused waggon track in the shade of the giant willows which screened them from the homestead. At last Mott's emotion had found outlet, and feminine evasions proved futile. " But I can't marry," the girl said.

Allan Mott turned and stared through leafy draperies at her homethat desolate dwelling he had never entered. He was hard hit, but gave no sign beyond a slight tilting of the square chin. * His companion saw it and hid her misgiving. Then," said Mott, swinging round on her, "you have been fooling me?" The girl remained silent. " Since the day I first saw —" began Mott-

" And you rescued me from the big puff-adder, and nearly got bitten yourself," she interrupted with a nervous smile. Her voice had a distracting ripple in it.

" Since that day," continued Mott stolidly. "I have loved you, and you knew it. We have beenintimates for months, in a queer, clandestine way, for I have respected your wish that I should make no attempt to see your invalid father, and I've asked no questions. I believed ypu liked me, and was content to wait. Now, when I ask the question you must have been expecting, you simply say ' I can't,' without explanation, without even a word of regret.. It's not good enough, Kit."

She stood with drooping head, absently pulling an arum lily to pieces, a lily he had given her.' If Mott had seen her eyes he would have pressed his advantage tactfully, but hqr silence was steadily driving him towards anger.

" Unless you have been playing with mo, there is some obstacle. I don't think it is another man and there remains therefore only your somewhat mysterious parent."

Kit stirred restlessly, and a shaft of sunshine turned the rich br»wa of her hair to ruddy gold. A tiny blue butterfly hovered tentatively above her head -as if about to alight. Mott watched it jealously. This slim girl, with the child's face and the gravely purposeful oyes, was so inexpressibly dear, that the fear of losing her goaded him to bitterness.

" What's wrong with your father, Kit?" he demanded. "Isho a drunkard, or a—discharged convict?" Kit, white-lipped, faced him with scornful eyes. " You had better go," she said. ".As you wish." Mott turned, abruptly, walked a few paces, and hesitated.

"la this your last word?" he said with boyish appeal in his tone. The girl's back was toward him, and after a moment's pause he strode away. A minute later Kit heard the beat of hoofs as ho rode down the waggon track to the main'road. Allan Mott, assistant engineer of dam ccfnstiruction, (returned to ■ the working some miles distant, and made a pretence of resuming his duties; Hugging his misery, he reviewed the many meetings that led up to it. Since the brought about by _ the kindly intervention of a snake—which was promptly killed for its pains—Mott's love for Kit Bentwood had ripened fast. There was more in it than mere youthful attraction. The sympathy of mental kindship flowed between them, though Mott was sometimes conscious of a hint of tragedy iin Kit's steady eyes. Then there was her strange reticence concerning her father. But these portents weighed little with her lover, for he usually got what he wanted, and where he trusted 'he was singularly incurious. So he dreamed his dream—which was to invest his small capital in. a farm when his engineering contract was up, and settle down in this quiet corner of Cape Province, with Kit as life partner. But to-day Kit herself had shattered the dream.

He was brooding in, his little tent pitched near the darn workings, when a native, whoso ample smile he recognised, brought him a note. He pounced upon it hungrily. Without the formal beginning it ran:—

" It is only right to say I should-have tojci you before, but I was afraid—partly for your Bake. lam miserable— so even than I deserve.—K.

P.S.But I cannot marry." Allan studied this epistle thooughtfully, then hopefully and with tender eves. "Idiot!" he groaned inwardly. "What tempted you to 'kjse your mulish temper ? The poor child is shouldering some burden which you should be sharing." He scrawled a line making an appointment ,for the following day, and was about to hand it, with a shilling, to the grinning aboriginal, when a daring thought leapt into his brain.*? Hastily consulting a time-table, he altered the date of _ meeting to several days later. Kleinboi's smile widened to his ears on receiving a half-crown in place of the usual shilling. On the day named Allan Mott rode ten sweltering miles at the canter, and turned his steaming mount into the waggon track, which, looping the new highway, formed a wide curve round the Bentwoods* solitary home. He came from the tiny railway siding and not from the dam, and so approached the trysting place . from a direction opposite to his customary route. Kit, over-eager to intercept him, sat her grey mare at the wrong fork of the roads, while heir lover waited under the willows in vain.

Mott's mood was reckless, and his patience meagre. At the end of five minutes he pressed his pony's flanks and trotted across the stretch of sun-baked veldt between the willows and the homestead. Still no sign of Kit. He drew in to a walk and dismounted, throwing his bridle-rein over the horse-rail in front. A moment he paused, irresolute, the low bare building with its huddle of out-houses looked so drearily forbidding; then he slowly climbed tho steps leading to the stone stoep. From the window of an iron shanty behind peeped a dismayed face, ■ and fat yellow arms waved- wildly, but Tante Selina's warnings were lost on Mott. He was listening wonderingly to a measured voice that sounded from the sitting room off the verandah. Someone was reading aloud, and the sonorous words were vaguely familiar. Mott was puzzled— in a flash he knew. It was tho English burial service! Filled with nameless fear, he hastened to the open door and looked in. In (i far corner of the wide room an elderly man in shabby clerical garb sat at a table, his head bent as he read. Books littered the floor about him, and books were built up like a barricade on either side of his chair. On the table, check by jowl with an open prayer-book, lay a shotgun, its" muzzle pointing straight towards the door.

The man looked up. His grey hair was dishevelled, the face below it unnaturally strained but it was the expression of his bloodshot eyes that shouted Kit's secret. Her father was mad!

Allan Mott's nerve was excellent, but he had blundered into a situation likely to try it. He remembered Kit's covert hint that while she was an adept at humouring her cranky invalid, he bated strangers. He never left his bedroom, too, she had said; this attack, therefore, must be of unusual violence. Mott began to speculate whether the shot-gun was loaded. The madman's eyes were smouldering ominously. " Who are you, and why do yon interrupt a solemn service?" he demanded. *.' I apologise for intruding," returned Allan in his most casual manner. " I called to see Miss Bentwood, but perhaps she is out?" He was wondering desperately abou Kit. Where was she ? Was she safe ?

The maniac glared; then, without warning, he snatched up the gun and levelled it at Mott. ; " Stand still, or I fire!" he shouted. Mott became motionless. " Advance six paces into the room and remain still!" ..,..-. '.

Allan obeyed, bending all his will into an effort to hold and master the maniac's eyes, but the test was cunningly, eluded while he himself was watched with swift, stealthy glances. " Young man," said the madman, " the penalty for your unseemly behaviour is that you become a participant." Ho leered, and his voice sank to a dreadful whisper: . j " To complete my burial service, I need! a corpse | The house rang with his insane mirth, j Allan shivered. He was racking his brain for some soothing reply, when disappointed fury overspread the madman's face. Allan caught the faint hoof-beats of a rapidly-approaching horse. Kit! In a spasm of fear for her he forgot caution and wheeled to dash for the door, but a metallic click behind made him pause. The demented man had pulled the triggers ." . . of an empty gun! Allan heaved a long sigh of relief. But his respite was short-lived. Swiftly the other broke the gun, whipped a cartridge from his pocket and into the breech, and again covered Mott. " It's loaded with buck-shot!" he whispered, grinning maliciously. In front of the house there was a clatter of hoofs as the rider drew up. Allan shouted a warning, but it did not stay the rush of light feet, and in a few seconds Kit had darted between the two men. She was followed by Tanto Selina, the old Hottentot, who after 'a scared look at her master, hovered uncertainly about the doorway.

" Father!" cried Kit. There was extraordinary power of tender command in the word. "Steady, old boy, steady! How did you find the gun ? You know it's against rules. Put it away, there's a dear."

" It's loaded, Kit," said Mott hoarsely. " For heaven's sake get into safety." Carefully screening him with her body, she shot back the whispered order: "Don't speak or stir a finger!" t Reason told him the safety of both lay in Kit's hands, and with humiliation Mott forced himself to obey. " Put down that stupid shot-gun," repeated Kit with the quiet insistence she would have used to an unOuly child. Eebelliously her father fought to outstare her; then, though he lowered the gun, he kept it still pointed across the table, and his fingers twitched alarmingly near the triggers. " He interrupted my burial service just when it was going splendily," he muttered. " And you, of course, will stop it altogether." His voice was merely sulky now; the awful tensity of strained face and frail figure was relaxing.

" Finish your service if you wish, dear."

With the utmost calmness Kit walked to the table and took the weapon from his unwilling hands. As she stepped back and deftly unloaded it, she caught the look of horror and self-contempt on Allan's face, and a tiny smile crossed her lips. "Ho would have killed you, which wouldn't have helped me," came her whispered comfort. " Sho walked to the door and handed the gun to Tante Solina, who grabbed it and vanished, returning empty-handed later to her post. Kit's father followed every move with suspicious interest, fingering tho leaves of his prayer-book ceaselessly.

"Now, old boy—sleep-time!" said Kit. He struck the table in childish passion. "You promised! You promised!" he shouted, while the old frenzy gleamed in his eyes. " Very well. Go ahead with your old burial. How far had you got?" To Allen she murmured. " Better slip off now," but he shook' his head. Kit was magnificent, but he, too, had claims. There were adjustments to be made. . . . Meanwhile Mr. Bentwood had emerged from his barricade and stood, prayer-book in hand, surveying with a kind of gnomish glee the young people before him. On meeting Mott's glance a mask seemed to drop over his face, and he buried his nose in the book and began to read."

At the first words Kit started violently, and her cheeks grew crimson.

" Father, you've mistaken the page," cried an amazingly altered Kit in a weak whisper, throwing out a pleading hand. But her father's voice went on and inexorably on, rolling out tho periods unctuously: " 'Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here. .■•'.'" Allan Mott had a feeling of dizzy elation. He stole a glance at Kit. Her face was dead white, and there was a piteous quiver of lips that amote him to the heart. To his surprise she made no further attempt to stop the solemn travesty. Perhaps she was ill, or perhaps >■•!'.,.. . .He would have given worlds for tone peep into her secret mind. He became aware that Mr. Bent wood was staring at him, while a question was ringing urgently in his ears: . .:

" ' Wilt thou have this woman . .?' " Unhesitatingly cams his response:. "I will." : - He dared not look at Kit. She stood motionless and cold as a statue. - " ' Wilt thou have this man . . .?" } With agonizing deliberation the words fell from the mad clergyman's lips, to be followed by a long silence. Mott shivered in the afternoon heat. He heard Tante Selina breathe apoplectically behind him, and far away a cock crew. "I will." ' At last Kit's answer had come, faint and clear, and in the revulsion Mott bit his lips to keep from laughing aloud. There was a shuffling of feet on the stoep. " 'Who giveth this woman to bo married to this man?'" demanded the persistent voice, and, as if in response, a stout, middle-aged man entered briskly. His calm eye swept searchingly . over the bizarre scene, to remain intently fixed on Bentwood's face. Kit uttered a little sound, half sob, half laugh. " Oh, stop him, doctor," she moaned. " It's—such a mockery." The doctor laid a comforting hand on her arm without removing his probing eye from the patient's face. The clergyman glared back defiance, purple veins swelling in his temples. The doctor nodded gravely, and whispered to the girl:

"Play the thing out. to quieten him." Dropping easily into his role, the doctor handed the reluctant girl to her father, who at once placed her right hand in .Allan's. So the grotesque ceremony proceeded, the actors playing their parts with a mechanical realism, up to the point where Allan, with shaking hand, slipped his signet ring over . Kit's third finger. Then the girl's composure broke, and turning she threw herself into the ready arms of Tante Selina, who hugged her hysterically, and hustled her from the room. .

Mr. Bentwood stood staring round, a woe-begone figure; the threatened paroxysm had passed, and bereft of its exaltation, his body sagged wearily. "Why does she run away?',' he complained. There are still the prayers."

" Which can be cut out in special circumstances," said the doctor, cheerily. " And these, old chap, are the urgent claims of bed." He took Bent wood's arm with friendly masterfulness .and piloted him away. Allan Mott dropped into a chair by the table, leant his head on his hands, and remained very still. Minutes passed. A lizard crossed the floor in a series of swift darts, ran up a table-leg, and froze into a tiny green-and-gold image within a foot of the man's nose. More minutes passed. Suddenly the image unfroze, became a streak of living fire, and was gone as Kit entered the room. Then at last the man stirred. Kit addressed him coldly from near the door. •

" You are still here? I thought your curiosity would have been more than satisfied."

Rising, Molt regarded her in silence, an unfathomable look on his sun-browned face. The girl hurried into speech. "It was what I always feared. Mostly fatheY is quite tractable, but an unfamiliar face infuriates him— even a new boy is a danger, though he doesn't notice natives much. It is the result of a fall from his horse a year ago. He is all I have in the world, and- he almost died. ..' I couldn't bear to send him away,,though I had to browbeat the doctor. Dr. Brandon, who, is an old friend, then advised us to cometo this district where he 'could be near us, and his patient have perfect quiet.: Of late , father has shown improvement, ...but to-day— has been a■ heart —heartbreak." Kit's admirably-controlled f voice suddenly quavered.

"Oh, you brave, unselfish little woman/* cried Mott, his face agiow, " And I thought J loved you before!"* He ' took her cold hand in both of his and looked deep into her moist , eyes, deeper than ho had ever dared. ' vile-tempered beast that I was!" he groaned. " Bntj Kit, Kit, I'll atone. From now onwards, your troubles are my troubles;'* ' '-> She shook her head. ■U .1 should hare sent you away at the beginning: It Was unfair toboth of ns. M Allan Mott took a deep breath, Suddenly a cough on thd stoep made them start apart. The doctor ■ appeared, humming, atrociously. "I've given Parson something nice to drink;" he said, "and he's sleeping like ail innocent babe. And do you know, Kit) before lie dropped off he was almost normal; We may pull him round yet— mentally;'* He- touched the girl's cheek gently; . "But it is well for you to know, dear, that his body .is very trail* An-* other racket like, to-day's may be too much;'!

''It is, what I have been fearing, doctor 1, said Kit, and her brown head dropped pathetically; Dr; Brandon, who had met Allan at the dam workmen's camp, and liked him, addressed a few casual remarks to the young engineer, his eyes frankly appraising him, Then with a whimsical .air he turned to the girl. ."The faithful medicine man drives miles in a blistering sun, and the fair damsel offers nothing! What's happened to the tea, Kit? This is poor entertainment for —wedding.' l Kit's lassitude left, her) she safe up sharply: "As a joke, doctor» that is in questionable taste/ she saidi > Unabashed, Dn Brandon looked keenly from the maid to the man. Ho sensed the. veiled distress in Kit's eyes, but it did not soften him.

"Well, shall we call it merely an undress rehearsal ?"

Kit .-was on her feet, her face afire. This is inexcusable I" she protested. . "Bui.you know, my dear, it is a'most interesting case, § Wuiio your father \ was not compoa mentis in tho strict sense, ho was quite aware of the nature of the ceremony, and as for the two principals " Bub with ft swish of indignant skirts Kit had vanished. "Anything to keep hor from moping," Bald the .'doctor to Allan, "She's a lons little heroine, and has too much to carry. I only wish ..." He laughed uneasily. "I wonder, am I putting my foot entirely in it?" and he gazed at the other plaintively. , Then Allan Mott drew his chair closer, and ■ talked to 3Dr. Brandon long and earnestly. When at last Kit deigned to return with the tea* the doctotr was unusually solemn. "You must forgive my stupid chaff, Kit," he said. "Perhaps lam an old fool, Mjott and I have had a confidential palaver, and he has propounded to ine, as an old friend of thy. family, a most perplexing problem. But it is really your problem, and my advice ia that you solve it yourself." • '■',"/. 'the girl .stood with apprehension growing in her eyes. "Whatwhat is it?" she faltered.

Dr. . Brandon rose and handed her an official-looking paper. Kit held it gingerly like a frightened child, still staring round-eyed at the two men. "Look at it," urged the doctor; and seizing a cup of tea he drained,it at a gulp. Slowly the girl lowered her ©yes till they rested on the. paper in her trembling hands. It was a Bishop's Special License to marry, made out in the names of Allan Mott and Catherine Bentwood!

The doctor cleared his throat nervously. "My dear,", he said, "our friend, Mr. Mott, worried the clerical bigwigs at Cape Town till they gave him that.; Knowing myself what a self-willed minx you.are, I confess I am astonished at ~ his pluck. Anyhow, it is my duty to tell you that the existence of ; that document, plus a little signing, makes you twowho have to-day gone through the authorized ceremony—a ■ married . couple.'' - ';'; As Kit's pale cheeks grew paler, his became purple. ; , I "If you . don't ;like it, Kit, burn the I confounded thing!" he shouted.: ..' : But I under his breath ho grumbled';; ''And I'll I certify you alias stark crazy." ' • It had been a hard day for Kit—harder than male minds " imagined, and her endurance wag tried to the uttermost. Nevertheless,^ after a,long, tremulous sigh, something glinted under her dark lashes, and she became mistress of herself—and of the situation. •.'.,'" .'>;.■ "Give me a match, doctor," sho said, quitely._ -<-.■'■:•, 'i'-'. ':'■■■■'■ ';■.'■'■'■■■.'.;:■">'

Dr, Brandon started, and fumbled ii lis numerous pockets, carefully/ avoiding Allan's eye. The search was long and insystematie, but Kit's hand remained nexorably held out, - and there was : no •scape. The doctor produced 1 a match jox and shook it doubtfully. - ; ' ■■-■ "Only one, Kit," he said. . J :.'• "It shall be sufficient," Kit darted a little malevolent glance at her lover. . fc : Calmly tucking tho offensive document info her waist-bell; to free her hands, she struck the match. It burned badly, but she nursed it with skill, then very deliberately advanced a corner of tho. Licence towards, it. The two men watched her in/ breathless fascination. ; The tiny name was within half an inch of the paper (and still nearer to Kit's fingers), when it suddenly flared up. Kit regarded it a moment in pained surprise, then she dropped the match hastily and her fingers flow to her mouth. ,

Dr. Brandon's laugh shook the rafters, and he dealt Allan a punch his ribs remembered for days. '"I know it," he roared, "I knew she'd burn her blessed • fingers. Mott. you lucky dog, go and kiss your wife!" ',''■:,[ THE END. - '- - '***. ''"■. **■