The Two Bellfields.

New Zealand Mail, 3 December 1896, Page 15

The Two Bellfields.

BY AIRLIE (Author of ‘ John Reed’s Stockman,’ ‘ A New Sensation,’ ‘Jackson’s Whare,’ ‘A Copy of Lindsay Gordon,’ &c.)

(Specially written for the New Zealand Mail.)

servant put her head in at the dining-room door. 4 Please, six-, one of the men wants

to see you.’ Captain Carryll glanced up from his paper. 4 Who is it, Louisa ?’ 4 It’s Meredith, sir; he’s in the office/

The old squatter looked at the cheerful fii e and his slippered feet, and thought of the cold oilcloth in the office.

‘Hum! Ha! You might ask him to step in here, Louisa/ he said slowly. 4 You don’t mind, do you, Jess ?’ he added, addressing his daughter, who was writing at the table.

4 No, father/ she said quietly, bending her head down over her letters.

4 It’s a confounded nuisance being disturbed at this time of night/ grumbled the Captain, throwing down his magazine and drawing up his shoulders with military erectness as a man’s step was heard in the hall.

The girl shaded her eyes with one white hand from the glare of the lamp; the light only touched the soft, short curls of golden hair,- she continued writing. Someone knocked at the door.

4 Come in !’ said the Captain, and a man entered—a typical stock-rider—tall, wiry and very handsome, brown complexion and long drooping moustache, eyes rather peculiai’, dark, deep set and piercing. He flashed a quick glance at the fair head bending over the table, then stood with his soft felt hat in his hand, waiting for the Captain to speak. 4 Good evening, Meredith/ said the latter courteously. 4 Good evening, sir.’

An impatient movement escaped Miss Carryll, and the stockman cast another swift look in her direction. The Captain stirred up the fire and pointed to the chair opposite. 4 Takea seat/ he said. 4 Nasty night out, isn’t it ? ’

‘lt is rather,’ answered the visitor, sitting down after a moment’s hesitation, and placing his hat on the floor beside him, ‘ The river is rising, that is why I came. I want to know about getting those cattle over.’ The two men entered into a conversation regarding the cattle, while the big logs blazed merrily in the open fireplace, showing up all the comfort and luxury of the well-appointed dining-room, the thick carpet and curtains, the sparkle of glass and silver upon the sideboard, the gleam of gilt picture frames on the walls. The bronze clock on the mantelpiece chimed 9 o’clock; the girl still sat at the table with her white hand shading her eyes, but she had ceased writing, and she was very quiet. ‘ Well, that’s the idea,’ said the squatter, bringing the arrangement to a conclusion. ‘ Take young Evett with you, and fetch ’em over first thing in the morning. I shall be away myself; I’ve to go to the station to moot a visitor.” Ho looked over his shoulder. ‘Jessie,’ he said, ‘did I tell you that Frank Bellfield will be here to dinner to-morrow ?’

‘ Y es, father,’ she answered. ‘ Well, I think that’s all,’ continued the squatter, and the man half rose from his seat. A curious expression had come into his eyes, but it vanished in a moment. ‘ Wait a bit,’ cried the hospitable gentleman, ‘you must have a drop of something to keep out the cold.’ He refused. ‘ Tut-tut,’ continued the Captain. ‘ Just touch the bell, please.’ Miss Carryll removed her hand from her brow for a moment, and looked at the stockman, who did as he was asked. The servant entered and produced a decanter and glasses from the side-board. Passing round beside the table she almost stepped on the man’s old felt hat, and stooped to pick it up, but with a careless movement he brought bis gaitered leg round and placed his foot upon the broad brim. ‘ Confound the girl!’ cried the Captain after she had left the room ; ‘ she has given us the wrong stuff. Here— ’ Miss Carryll rose from her seat, a tall slender girl with a sweet face, rather too pale and thin for beauty. ‘ Don’t call her back, father,’ she said, almost impatiently, * I will get it, I have finished writing.’ With swift, graceful movements she went round to the side-board and brought out the other decanter, and placed it upon the tray. Tue Captain came forward. ‘ Help yourself. Meredith.’ ho said chflaala

man joined him. His daughter talked over towards the fireplace, and her heavy velvet skirt moved the felt hat aside. In an instant she had stooped and picked it rip. Meredith turned and took it from her with an apology. ‘My old hat is taking up a lot of room/ he said.

She made no answer, but stood gazing into the fire with her back to the two men, then presently left the room with swift, silent steps. ‘ Well, good night/ said the host, after the whisky had been disposed of, settling down once more in his arm-chair. ‘ They’ll let you out. Can you see ?’ ‘ Yes, thank you/ answered the man quickly. ‘ Good night, sir/ and left the room, shutting the door carefully behind him. After some time the girl came back. A faint colour was in her cheeks, her eyes looked dark and strangely bright. She began to gather up her writing materials, and her hands were trembling. ‘ Decent chap, Meredith/ observed her father in a sleepy voice. ‘ Shouldn't wonder if he comes of good people. You never know what these fellows have come through. Hallo ! his horse just going off. Been flirting with Louisa, i’ll be bound. Young dog !’

She closed up her inkstand with a snap, then came behind his chair and kissed him lightly on the brow. ‘ Good night, father/ she said abruptly ; ‘ I’m going to bed.’ ‘ Very well, my dear/ he answered. ‘ O, Jess, Frank Bellfield is coming ’ ‘ You have told me that three times/ she said, impatiently.

‘ Have I?’ he continued abstractedly, ‘ We must do the civil ’

‘ Because his cousin is a lord/ she interrupted scornfully. ‘ No/ he answered, ‘ but because he is a very nice fellow. I have taken a great fancy to him. You look tired, my dear. Good night.’ Next day Jessie Carry 11 rode alone up the hills at the back of the homestead, a slight graceful figure in her dark habit, sitting easily on the tall bay horse, which climbed and scrambled up the rough track. The ascent was steep before she reached the top of the ridge, where she paused to gaze at the glorious view lying before her, steep, broken, bush-clad cliffs, and below a silver river wending through the green valley; then turned to the right and gained a plateau, which extended far away into the distance. At a quick pace she urged her horse through the low scrub and tangled fern, looking round her with anxious, expectant eyes. It was late in the afternoon, the sky was of a peculiar greenish hue, and through rifts in the banks of heavy dark clouds the setting sun shed long yellow beams of light. A few tall black trees rose up here and there from beds of fresh, green vegetation, newly sprung up since the destroying fires of the previous summer. A wild, lonely, mysterious place, which had always possessed a fascination for the girl, who now walked her horse close to the edge of the cliffs, looking down at the rifts of curious red earth filled with tangled growth and beautiful groves of tree-ferns. Suddenly across the dark plain a horseman came galloping, leaping over the great charred fallen logs which lay strewn around. The girl turned her horse and went to meet him, and presently he sprang from his saddle and lifted her down into his arms, where he held her close to his heart.

1 Jessie ! ’ was all he said, but every endearing tone that love could give was in that one short word.

Leading both horses, ho walked along with his arm around her. She seemed too agitated to speak, and he fastened the bridles to a tree, then drew her down beside him on to a log, and they sat for awhile in silence, his arms around her, her head upon his shoulder.

She looked up presently. ‘ Dick !’ she cried despairingly, ‘ I can’t bear this any longer, it is killing me!’

He had both her little hands in his own and was pressing them to his lips. ‘ What is killing you, darling?’ he asked tenderly. ‘ Oh, this life, the deceit, the strain—everything ! Oh, I have been very wicked, very weak !’

‘ I thought you loved me,’ he said moodily. She moved uneasily and drew away her hands. ‘ Yes,’ she cried faintly, ‘but I can’t bear it. Last night I could have screamed to see you sitting there addressing my father as sir!’

lie laughed. ‘ That is nothing,’ he said, but she went on quickly. ‘ And being treated like any other of the men, and you are so reckless—that note under your hat, the girl might have noticed it.’ '

' She very nearly did,’ he said. ‘ I put my foot on it.’ ‘ I am sure she suspects,’ she continued, half sobbing. ‘ This morning my father made some jocular remarks about her keeping you, when I was out there with you, and she looked at mo in a horrid, sly way —oh, it is all too humiliating, too dreadful!’ His face darkened, his eyes grew angry and sombre.

‘ I thought you loved me,’ he said again, ‘ and I thought that when a woman like you loved it was through everything, and for ever. What does this all matter ? One hour together, as we are now ’ With a passionate movement he drew her down into his arms once more.

‘ It’s hard for you, little girl,’ he said, ‘and deuced hard for me, but what can we do ? I only see one way out of it.’ She looked up. * And that ? ’ ‘ To clear out and get married, and have done with it all.’ She uttered a little scream. ‘ Dick ! How awful 1’ ‘ I don’t see it,’ he said gloomily, * they will have to know sometime or other/

She drew herself from his embrace, and sat up erect and white.

‘What!’ ‘ His tone frightened her. She shrank away, but went on in desperation—‘lt must. It is absolutely impossible for things to go on any longer like this. I cannot bear it.’

‘lf I can, you can/ he said doggedly. ‘ What do you suppose my feelings are ? A servant, —a dog ! Only kept from utter despair by my love for you!’ He stood up and raised his hands with a passionate gesture. ‘ I wish now that I had never seen you, flirt that you are !’ ‘ Dick!’

* It is true,’ he continued, turning upon her angrily. ‘ Do you suppose I would have dared to make love to you, presumed upon my former position, my old blood, to tell you my love, if I had not read encouragement in your sweet, smiling eyes ?’ She was sobbing. l lt is like a man/ she said, * to blame the woman/ and in an instant he was down on his knees beside her.

‘ Jessie, my darling, my little sweet love,’ he said, throwing his arms around her, ‘ don’t talk all this nonsense about endingtilings. I swear by, everything that is holy that if you forsake me I will shoot myself. What is my dog’s life worth without you ?’ And so he went on, with wild words and passionate caresses, until the girl’s weak will was overpowered, and the interview terminated by her promising again to be true to this handsome hero, whoso physical beauty and reckless daring had fascinated her until she had imagined herself in love with him, and allowed herseif to be drawn into a secret engagement which troubled her exceedingly, embittering all their stolen meetings and fond caresses, until every interview became almost a thing to be dreaded instead of desired by her. Frank Bellfield that evening, watching her furtively across the dinner table, wondered what caused the shadow over her beauty. It was the face of a sad wife, he thought, rather than that of a. gay young girl. Did her father not notice it ? A woman would have seen it at once. There was trouble on the shadowy eyelids, and the sweet curves of the mouth. It was not ill-health or discontent that her face expressed ; it was anxiety and pain. Being a keen observer and versed in the ways of women he was interested. Here was a pretty girl, Avith a rich, indulgent father, who ought to have been happy and evidently was not. There must be a cause for her unhappiness. The occasional silent moods in which she would gaze straight before her, thinking deeply, the little, petulant speeches made for no apparent reason, the long solitary walks, all poihted to some secret trouble. His week’s visit lengthened to a fortnight, and during that time they were a good deal thrown together, riding or walking about the country when the days were fine, playingbilliards or at the piano in wet weather. He sang very nicely in a sweet tenor voice ; ho read to her and spoke of his travels in distant countries, and though her brain was filled with wild bitter thoughts of another man she could not be insensible oo his efforts to please and amuse her. It seemed as if he knew she was miserable, and was trying to divert her mind from its sorrows. She had another interview with Meredith, in which he was still more violent and reckless, and now mad with jealousy of Bellfield. From various hiding-places of his own he had watched them riding and walking together, with sombre eyes and rage in his heart. c I v know those Bellfields/ he cried ; ‘ they will wait till they get what they want, and so can I. I will shoot him before he shall have you !’ And she left him, terrified at the expression that disfigured his handsome face. He was reckless and desperate, and all the long days he brooded over his wrongs, railing at the fate that had driven him away from home in his youth and made him in the strength and vigour of his man-

hood a cattle-drover, a stockman, the servant of another man.

‘ Something fresh has occurred,’ thought Bellfield that afternoon, coming out into the verandah, where Miss Carryll stood alone. There was not a trace of colour in her cheeks; her eyes looked wistful and pathetic. She greeted him with a smile that to him seemed more sad than tears. What was troubling her? He wished with all his heart that he could help her. He stood beside her in silence, and presently she turned with a little shiver. ‘ It’s too cold to stand out of doors this weather/ she said; ‘you oughtjtohave been here in the summer.’

‘ Yes/ he answered. * What a glorious summer you must have had/

And in a rush there came back to her memories of long delightful days spent in Meredith’s company, when her heart had been captivated, her head turned by his passionate words and the wild fascination of his beautiful eyes. The recollection of a certain evening when they two had ridden beside the banks of the river, earth and sky a dream of loveliness, all nature hushed in sweet repose, was like the sudden stab of a knife. A sound that was almost a cry escaped her. She turned to enter the house.

‘Miss Carryll/ said Bellfield, ‘pardon me if I presume, but I can see that you are unhappy. Can I not help you ?’ ‘Thank you,’ she answered gently. ‘No, it is nothing.’ She paused; one hand rested upon the back of a straw chair ; he placed his own upon it; his face was grave and earnest.

‘Your life should bo filled with happiness/ he said regretfully. She did not; withdraw her hand, but raised her eyes to his.

‘ Is there such a thing? ’ she asked. The reply he might have made was never uttered, for Captain Carryll appeared at the window, and the girl slid her hand from beneath his and went into the house. Each day the thought of her engagement to the stockman grew more hopeless and distasteful $ unconsciously she took to

father's courteous and cultivated guest, and blamed herself more bitterly for her forief folly and madness. How she had drifted so far she scarcely knew. It had begun with respectful and admiring glances, and trifling services, such as letting down rails, as opening gates; then there had come a day when her horse bolted, and he had been there to stop it, and had ridden home with her, and somebow from his conversation she learnt that fate had used him hardly, that circumstances had brought him to his present position, and his handsome face was soft and sad when he turned it towards her; his dark eyes spoke volumes. It had all come about so easily; the long idle days when she had ridden up to the silent plateau half hoping, half fearing to meet him, and then the climax —the afternoon when he bad come upon her in the pine grove, and bad leapt from his horse and approached her. Not a soul near them, not a sound to break the silence, the warm air heavy •with the aromatic scent of the pines, down the red trunks of which shot long straight beams of sunlight. Mute and trembling she stood there while his dark eager eyes drank in every detail of her slim whiterobed figure and sweet fair face, then somehow she was in his arms, he was kissing her and uttering passionate words of love such as she had never dreamt of, and which thrilled her with a wild delight. Bellfield’s quiet voice broke in upon her reverie. ‘Will you ride to the village •with me ?’ fye asked. * I am going for letters/

They started after lunch. It was a grey •winter’s day; there had been rain the night before, sky and hills were beautiful, the bush dark and damp with long, straight wreaths of white mist, caught, as it were, in the high branches of the trees. The road lay through purple rush-land, past miles of waving toi-toi ; soft shadows played upon the flat hills, and banks of grey clouds were rising to the south. They turned towards the village road, and presently the sharp sound of a stockwhip met their ears, then the barking of dogs and men’s voices shouting. ‘ Cattle !’ said Jessie, and turned as white as snow.

‘ Are you afraid ?’ he asked in surprise ; f you must often have met them before.’ * No; but they are sometimes very wild,’ she answered hurriedly. Her heart was beating so that she could hardly speak ; she knew who would be behind the cattle, and would rather have faced the fiercest of them.

The man who headed them appeared round the corner on his lean, quick, wiry etock-horse. Frank Bellfield and Jessie drew to one side, and presently the mob came rushing on, a sea of red and white backs and tossing horns; stock-whips were going, dogs barking—a scene of wild and picturesque confusion. A lad on a grey pony rode behind. Meredith had gone back after a young cow which had broken away, and presently came riding towards them driving the beast before him. He was riding a beautiful horse and looked the personification of manly strength and beauty, his handsome face all aglow with excitement, his arm upraised brandishing the whip; and suddenly he caught sight of the girl and her companion. He rode close beside them, his face grew like a thunder cloud, he drew up his horse till it reared up on its haunches, then with a sudden movement swung the great whip round his head and with a deafening report, either by accident or design, brought the long, cruel lash across Bellfield’s horse, so that it sprang forward and galloped away some distance before he could stop it.

Then he leant forward in his saddle and spoke to the girl, his great eyes gleaming with jealous rage. ‘l’m getting desperate,’ he said. She tried to ride on but he barred the way. ‘Will you meet me to-morrow afternoon ?’ he asked, trying to see her averted face.

‘No/ she answered, ‘you frighten me/ ‘Jessie/ he cried, and his voice was infinitely sad and wistful. ‘ Let me pass/ she panted. ‘ I will be calm/ he said in pleading tones. ‘No/

He grew white to the lips; in silence he drew back to let her pass. A sudden sense of the pain she was inflicting came over her, she looked as if she were about to speak, but he turned away and she rode slowly after Bellfield, who had succeeded in stopping his horse and was waiting for her in a state of mingled anger and perplexity. Was it possible that this man could in any way be the cause of the girl’s unhappiness ? Curiosity and interest, and an intense desire to help her ran riot in his mind, but liis face was perfectly calm and unconcerned when she reached him, though he glanced keenly once or twice at her pale agitated countenance. ‘He seems an eccentric sort of fellow that stockman/ he said quietly. ‘ Oh, he is mad/ she answered, ‘ quite mad! ’

He shrugged his shoulders. ‘ Of course, it’s all a matter of opinion/ he said dryly, ‘ but I think I should prefer to employ a sane individual if he is to be armed with such a dangerous weapon as that long whip/ Meredith came galloping back, and Bellfield, watching Miss Carryll, saw her hand tighten on the rein and her lips tremble. He drew up his horse and turned round.

‘ I have come to tell you that the river is high/ said the stockman, coldly. ‘ I should advise you to get home before dark/

‘We shall see the river and be able to judge for ourselves, my man/ said Bellfield, haughtily. * Thanks for your advice/ He spoke in the tone of a w ell-bred Englishman who means to be offensive, a tone that brought to the man before him memories of days when he too had lived - gf f.hi. Headmost betrayed

himself ; he almost cried * Bellfield, don’t you know me ?’ But the old habit of silence prevailed. With sombre eyes and raging heart he turned away once more and galloped back after the cattle. Bellfield and Miss Carryll rode on for some time in silence. She was thinking of Meredith’s sad, angry face, aad fear and remorse filled her soul. He was wondering where he had seen this man before and what there could be between him and Captain Carryll’s daughter. Soon he began to speak on ordinary subjects, New Zealand scenery as contrasted with that of other countries ; the beauty of English homes. ‘I wish vou could see Bellfield,’ lie said. ‘ I know he would consider it a lovely place.’

‘ Will it ever he yours ?’ she asked, endeavouring to display some interest in the conversation.

‘ I fear not,’ he said, ‘ I am only a cousin, you know ; there is another brother, a scamp-of a fellow, who disappeared some years ago ; got into a discreditable racing scrape of some kind, poor chap. Dick Bellfield, he is the next heir.’

‘Perhaps he is dead,’ she suggested. ‘ I don’t think so, we should have heard/ he replied, and just then a turn in the road brought them to the river, lying before them a wide expanse of grey water. Great masses of clouds now obscured the sunlight, hanging heavily overhead ; there was no wind, no sound save that of the rushing river. They rode slowly down the shelving banks to th-e ford. ‘ It is high,’ sho said. ‘ We must be back early, or we may not be able to cross/

An indefinable sense of fear and impending evil was upon her : she had crossed the river hundreds of times in all kinds of weather and had never felt afraid ; to-day, as her horse forced his way against the current, she shivered as the water rushed by. Bellfield kept close beside her, and liis grey eye 3 rested pitifully upon her pale, sweet face. Just before they reached the village, her horse cast a shoe, and after they had called at the post-office, they left the animal at the blacksmith’s to be shod, while Bellfield made the girl come to the hotel and have a cup of tea, she looked so white and weary. All this necessarily occupied some time; the smith was longer over his task than they had expected, so it was somewhat late in the afternoon when they started on their return journey. * We must ride fast,’ she eaid, gazing round at the gathering clouds; so they went at a steady canter along the level road. Nevertheless, by the time they reached the river it was growing dark, and a drizzling rain was falling; the water looked black and turbid, rushing down with an angry roaring sound. ‘ Keep close to me/ Bellfield said as they entered. The girl tried hard to be brave, but that terrible feeling of coming danger was upon her still, her face was white and set, her eyes heavy and troubledin the rushing of the dark river she seemed to hear Meredith’s fierce whisper filling her heart with terror, while his pleading eyes reproached her for her faithlessness. On they went, slowly and with difficulty; she was now obliged to put her feet up on the saddle.

The landscape was darkening, the rain falling, the wild waters rushing past. She was a little ahead of her companion, and presently she looked round. ‘We are going wrong !’ she cried, and began to grow dizzy, then suddenly felt someone seize hold of the bridle, and with a sharp scream recognised Meredith.

He had come across from the other side. He called out some words, but; amidst the noise of the water and the rain she could not distinguish what he said. Sho was wild with terror; the fear and suspense of the last few hours had unhinged her nerves. She screamed out to Bellfield. ‘Ho is going to drown me !’ she cried. ‘ He will kill me!’

He still held the bridle, and was trying to lead the horse towards the right ; his own was kicking and plunging. Bellfield came closor.

‘You damned fool’/ shouted Meredith, ‘ you have got out of the track/ ‘ Make him let go !’ screamed the girl. ‘Give me the reins!’ cried Bellfield; ‘ you frighten her.’ * Out of the way!’ cried Meredith, striking the other man’s horse. Bellfield was furious. ‘You’ve dono that twice to-day !’ he cried, and for a moment the danger around them was forgotten as the two men glared at each other through the gloom in the midst of the swirling waters. Jessie had recovered her senses. ‘Ha knows the river/ sho cried ; it is all right!’ and Meredith at last succeeded in turning the horse’s head.

‘Go straight on/ he shouted. ‘ Take the bridle/ and Bellfield obeyed wi! hout a word. They were in the middle of the river now, the horses were swimming, the stockman was a little behind the others, rain was pouring down in torrents, the noise was deafening, it was almost dark. All at once there drifted down close upon them a great black tree with jagged branches,- it was coming swiftly with the strong current. * Look out for the tree ! ’ yelled Meredith, and then there was only the sound of roaring waters. The girl looked round in sudden fear.

‘ He has gone ! ’ she screamed, and a cry of a strong man in agony floated up the dark river.

‘ Keep to the right! Jessie! Jessie 1’ She was swaying in her saddle. Bellfield was obliged to hold her, but the horses had regained their feet. And then once more came that mournful cry ringing fainter through the gloom—- ‘ Keep to the right! Frank, take care of her!’

The water grew shallower, the horses scrambled up the bank, they were safe, and he remembered now where he had seen this man before. He looked behind him down the dark seething river. ‘ G-ood God!’ he cried, in a bewildered, pitiful voice. *lt is himself—it is Dick Bellfield'/