LOVE AND WAR.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1507, 17 January 1901, Page 8

LOVE AND WAR.

(By Carol Young, in “Liverpool Weekly Courier.”) CHAPTER I.—"MAY.” There had been a fall of snow in the night; St .still toy a great white sheet mountains of the Snowdon range, hut along the lowlands it had melted as it -fell, and in the Wirral Peninsula the morning broke bright and beautiful with a delightful crispness and freshness in the air, •'and yet with a foretaste of summer in the warmth of the sun and in the gay carolling of the birds. Hoylake was looking its best and smelling its sweetest as May Hamilton crossed the i links, wending her way to* a sheltered nook on the rocks whence charming views could be obtained of the River Dee, the Welsh mountains, and

the Welsh coast as fay as the Point, or Ayr. : . She carried her painting materials strapped together in one hand, and in the other a little bunch of wallflowers, at which she kept sniffing as she sauntered on —her slim, young figure casting long shadows on the green, velvety turf.

If she; were really as tall as that. As tall, even, as Rolfe himself! stretched up one arm to see the effect, and went through various pantomimic gestures. It was very funny. And then, suddenly, the smile faded from her face, and her beautiful eyes grew sad. If only Rolfe would do something;— anything, rather than follow lie*' about with such cruel persistence. It was cruel, when lie knew they could never be more to each other than cousins. There was no escaping him ; and, indeed, he made it perfectly clear that he had no intention of allowing her to escape him.

How big and strong he was, and big strong men were so urgently wanted now. There never was a time when they were more urgently wanted. "Where, was his patriotism ? Why did he not go and fight for his country as that other man was fighting ? That other man! May sighed as she thought of her promise to him. He trusted her, depended upon her for his fortune, and he should not be disappointed. But, oh! how hard it was sometimes to do one’s duty, how doubly hard for her since Rolfe had divined her secret. He knew, as well as sho knew herself, that the keeping of her promise to Captain Hamilton became more difficult and painful every day; and lie took advantage of his knowledge. *

Even before the footsteps paused'at her side, May knew instinctively who it was coming striding .over the rocks, and she nerved herself for the encounter, putting on the little air of reserve and defiance which Rolfe Penrhyn, accustomed to the adulation of women, found so fascinating. As master of a", neighbouring Manor and adjacent farms, with a rent-noil of something like £BOOO a year. Squire Penrhyn was at once the most popular landlord and the most eligible narti in the peninsula. He lived on his property the greater part of the year with his only sister Gwladys, who was just the sweetest and sauciest, most witching and wilful maiden that ever took heart of man captive. .Since May and her widowed mother and little brother had returned from India and taken up their abode in "the seaside village where Mrs Hamilton had lived as a girl. Gwladys spent much of her time at Hovlake, andi was, as her brother candidly avowed, a considerable hindrance to him in his wooing.

There was a very tender light in 'his eyes as he stood looking down at May now.

“You are interested in my view,” she said nresently. without locking up. “Yes; but von have worked enough for one day. I believe you would sacrifice the love of your life for this everlasting painting. When you are my——” “I haven’t got a love of my life,” she broke in hurriedly. “At least,” with a. twinge of compunction, “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so, May. Aren't you sure ?” “Yes—yes, Fm sure.” “Sure of what? Have you or have you not got a love of vour life?—that is the question before tlie meeting.” “I don't think that is the question at all.” “Answer me.”

His arm stole round her. his breath fanned Tier cheeks ; in another moment he would have forced a confession from her reluctant lips. “Oh, let me goV’ she whispered tremulously; “there’s~soimeone coming. “It is.” in a tone of immense relief “Gwladys!” “Right you are!” cried a clear, sweet voice, and a girl dressed in khaki and crimson, with a jockey cap set firmly on her brown curls, jumped off the hill behind them, scattering a cloud of sand, and alighting ion Mr Penrhyn’s outstretched feet.

He drew them in with a. groan ; and his sister stared at him with solemn, reproachful eyes. “The idea,” she said, “of having your feet there, Rolfe.” “Well. I like that,” he returned wrathfully. “You lame a man for life, and then you ask him practically how he dare ? Apologise at once, you abandoned young, person, or ” He stretched out a threatening arm, and Gwladys promntly mounted a piece of rock, well out of his reach.

"How do you do May?” she said, lifting her right hand! in a military salute. “I’m; sorry I can’t shake hands with you, but Rolfe looks dangerous; and you look, ahem—well,” with a wicked laugh, "’not- precisely cold.” “You startle one so, Gwladys,” May murmured, smiling up into the velvety brown eyes which were so bright and mischievous, and withal so loving and true. “How did you come ?”

“Roberts drove me over in the dogcart; he was going into Birkpnhead, andi ” “Why did you oorne ?” her brother interposed with not unnatural impatience. “That’s not very civil,” pouted the girl; “and when I’ve come, too, at per-

sonal incoirv enienee in order to do you a service. I came to bring yc-u these.” untying the parcel she carried. and handing him some official-looking documents. “As they were marked ’immediate’ I thought I had better y “How did you know I was here ?” he interrupted lie/' again, frowning as he reflected on his lost opportunity. ■T called at Alcterled road and saw auntie, and she told me where I should find May. And then,” finished Gwladys innocently, “I knew, of course, where you would be.” Rolfe laughed as lie looked at May, but she would not meet his glance, and made loom for Gwladys to sit between them.

“This is for you, May.” the girl went on, handing her a bulky envelope. __ “Is it?’’ in a thrilling whisper, “from him?’ “Yes,” said May at once. “Pnotograplis.” “Oh, you lucky girl! May I see them ? How splendid he looks in his uniform. Oh. and I like this one-in khaki even better. What a. fascinating desperado he looks in that wide-brimmed hat tucked up at one side. The darling. I shall kiss him. You don't mind, do you. May ?” “Not at all. Y r ou may keep him if you like.” “Do you mean it really? Oh, tflank you. May. I shall have it mounted and framed and labelled All my life,” said Gwladys, with a retrospective sigh, “I have been waiting for a man like this.” May’s smile was as sweet as* dimples could make it. “Oh, Gwladys, 'all your life’ only amounts to eighteen years.” “No matter, I’ve waited. There are men,” went on this young student of the sex, “and—men. I ought to know, for I have been sampling them for years, and I can tell you, May, that heroes are in a ' melancholy minority. Men, as a rule, are chiefly remarkable for their vanities, their prejudices, and their deficencie.s. Of course, there are exceptions. There’s Rolfe, for instance; and there’s this other man. Just fancy,” holding the photograph at arm’s length, “being loved by him.” “Love is not everything, Gwladys.” “Isn’t it, though? Why’, ’tis love that makes the world go round'. If I can’t marry the man I love ” “If you mean Captain Hamilton,” May interposed, “I’m afraid you can’t.” “Well, I don’t know about that. There’s Rolfe to oe reckoned with, you see ; and what Rolfe sets his mind on that he will have. It’s my belief neTl make you marry him. May, and then—’ “Oli, liusli,” slia whispered,” rising hastily, as she caught Rolfe’s eyes fixed upon her, a, strange, yearning expression in their uepths. ‘‘‘You are talking noiisen.se, Gwladys.” “Let us hear it.” Rolfe said, rising too. “What did you say, Gwladys, to bring this beautiful blush to May’s cheeks ?” “State secrets!” Gwladys laughed. “If you had not been so absorbed in your correspondence —— Oh, Rolfe, what is it ?” she broke off with a. complete change of tone and manner ; “You look as if you' had seen a ghost.” “The ghost of a battlefield, my pet. I have joined the Cheshire Imperial Yeomanry, and sail for South Africa within a week.” In May’s startled eyes as they met his Rolfe met at last all that he wanted to kno-w; and he drew her hand through his arm as they climbed the hill together—Gwladys discreetly walking on in front. “You have your wish, May,” he said, smiling down at her. “I’m going away, and with God’s help I’ll fight for my country, even as Captain Hamilton has fought. I have not his experience, but I can keep the saddle and shoot straight —do not tremble so, my darling!—and; if I live to return —Tears, May ? Oh, hush, child, hush! You make it hard for me; to go. What’s that? You never thought me an idler or wished me away ? You never meant any of the cruel things you said? Will I forgive you? Look at me, May, and read your answer in my eyes. . . . Oh, my little love! my little love!” CHAPTER lI—GWLADYS PENRHYN’S HERO. Great was the amazement of Captain Trevor Hamilton, the dashing young cavalry officer, when he learnt, as he did by the merest accident, that he had been left sole legatee flo the wealth of an uncle whom he had not seen since he left India as a boy, fifteen years before. It was a brother officer who broke the news to him. “Seen ‘The Times ?’ ” lie inquired briskly, entering a service club in Piccadilly, and seating himself astride a chair opposite to his friend. “I never see f Tiie Times,’ ” the latter responded, puffing lazily at his cigar; “funds don’t run to- it.” “Funds will soon be racing to it. Look here!” Lieutenant Drew opened the advertisement sheet, and pointed to a paragraph in the second column. “This,” he said impressively, “has been in here a. week, and the Lord only knows in how many other papers it has appeared.” “Well P” said the other blankly. “Well, you’re wanted, Trevor!” “The deuce I am. Who wants me?” “Let me see —lawyers in the city, as a beginning.”

“R°t “Oh, all right. Hand me over your credentials, certificates of birth, baptism. and such like, and I'll start the personating dodge. There's money in this; and I'm quite ready to run the show, having nothing to lose if I fail. You don't know,’ added the young lieutenant gloomily, “what it is to be stonybroke’ or you'd jump at such a chance of confounding your creditors.” “Now, what on earth are you talking about ?” drawled the captain.' There was no smarter officer in Her Majesty s service than Captain Trevor Hamilton, but when not .on military duty he affected a langour and an unconcern which was a little trying to his friend, whose temperament was of the, mercurial order. “Wanted,” he began, with twinkling eyes, “the present address, or information regarding Trevor Hamilton, orphan, born in British Burmah somewhere about the year 1860; father in Madras Civil Service; mother, Trevor, of Trevor, country Cavan,. Ireland ; educated Royal Military Academy, Woolwich. This ” observed the lieutenant gravely, “refers presumably to aforesaid Trevor, not to bis mother, though the deduction to* be drawn——” “I’ll throw a cushion at your head directly. “Go ahead. I should welcome it as a sign of returning animation. Obtained commission in Royal Engineers, afterwards joined the ” “As if.” broke in the captain, now fairly roused, “anyone wanting me would not have applied direct to the War Office.” “You’re too clever, old man. This,” tapping the advertisement, ‘Nias been wired from some remote region in remote Southern India, and probably—but here, read the thing for y.ourselfIt will make you sit up, I can tell you.” It did make him sit up, and never afterwards did Trevor Hamilton neglect to read the newspapers. Nor. though years elapsed before lie was m a position to let bis gratitude take practical shape, did he forget the friend who first told him of his good fortune. Lieutenant Drew had certainly good cause to remember the day he entered the Piccadilly club with the ‘Times’ newspaper in his hand ; and he would declare, with an odd break in his voice, that Trevor Hamilton was not only the best-looking, the best bred, and the bravest officer in the regiment, but also the most lovaL and helpful and generous of friends. He was always doing a kindness to some poor absent-minded beggar. Captain Hamilton had, of course, no difficulty in proving his identity ; but after the first formalities had been gone through, and he had been congratulated on his snug little fortune, there was a somewhat awkward pause. The lawyer fidgeted with his papers, and finally announced that there was a condition attached to his late client's will. When, half an hour later. Trevor Hamilton left King’s Beach Walk, there was an expression of almost comical dismay on his face, and he gave vent to a. prolonged whistle. The legacy, it seemed, carried with it a wife. The condition upon which alone he could inherit property amounting to upwards of £BO,OOO was that he should marry a. certain Marygold Hamilton, whose father was a distant connection of the testator’s. The eccentric old Anglo-Indian, wishing to benefit both his nephew and the little godchild of whom he was exceedingly fond, conceived the novel idea of marrying the pair. The simple expedient of dividing the money between, them had apparently not occurred to him. Was ever man placed in so awkward and embarrassing a position ? The wife his uncle had chosen for him was still a mere schoolgirl, years must elapse before she could be considered of a marriageable age. and in the meantime fifty things might occur to upset the arrangement. Miss Hamilton, when she was old enough to give the subject her attention, might fall in love. Every facility was offered in India so to do; and if she happened to be a pretty girl she . would be nipped up directly. On the other hand, even supposing her affections remained disengaged, she might object to be married offhand to a man she didn’t know, and who must be at least twelve years her senior, merely for the purpose of endowing him with £BO,000. It was a legitimate objection, and one with which he could sympathise. For himself he was devoted to hi& profession, and a.yyfe Jiad not yet entered into> his schem'd 1 of life. Still, there was the money. No one could live without money. They might dispense with love, but money was essential ; and if Marygold was as poor as he, the money would naturally weigh with her. It was an important factor in every situation. Well, the first step was. as the law? yer suggested, to put himself in communication with the family. This lie did without loss of time ; and as, combined with innate tact and refinement of a gentleman, the task was perhaps less difficult to him than it would have been to another. He directed his letter to Miss Marygold Hamilton at the address near Delhi furnished him by the lawyer. Then he waited—two, three, four months —before the looked-for reply

from India arrived. It was written m a clear, girlish hand, and signed * May Hamilton.” “She knew,” so the letter ran, “all about her godfather's will. He had always been very good to her, and she had premised him that when she was old enough she' Would marry his nephew. Her godfather had told her that she could make Trevor Hamilton a rich man by becoming his wife, and of course she would be very glad to do that. She liked- soldiers, because her father was one ; and her brother, when 'he grew up, would be a-soldier, too-. She was sorry she was so young, but if he (Trevor) wanted the money very badly, she would lend him five pounds. She had a money box of her .own.” The soldier smiled sadly as he folded up the letter and placed it in Ins breast pocket. “Poor child.! Poor little, ten-der-hearted May!” he murmured, _ and his eyes grew very gentle and pitiful as he gazed at the photograph she had enclosed. It represented a. girl with a small, pale, flower-like face, framed in tt) asses of curling brown hair ; a wistful mouth, and wonderful dark eyes. It was ■ a face that in it.s purity and earnestness would appeal to any man ; ana Trevor . Hamilton, as he touched it reverently with his lips, mentally registered a vow that if, in the years to come, that pretty child should trust herself to him. he would make her life as happy and full of joy as it was possible for the life of a Soldier's, wife to be. ; And thus began a correspondence which was continued without- interruption for many years, and between the little schoolgirl in India and the young soldier at Aldershot there grew up a warm, and lasting friendship. But before the Hamiltons came to settle in England war had. broken out in South' Africa, and Captain Hamilton’s regiment was tone of the first to be dispatched to Capetown. . CHAPTER III.—HOVE WILL FIND A WAY. : . ‘-’l’m going to, shoot a Boer,” said the n o fray*-. and he looked quite fierce as he ' h took careful aim atf-va pair of tongs, which, with topcoat and trousers on, were propped up precariously against the fender. ‘“Look out. May!*" . May looked out. She sank into an easy chair as far removed as possible : .... from, the base of operations, and put becc hands over her ears. There was a loud report, a sudden bang, a tremendous clatter, and' an exultant shout. “I’ve done for him!” cried Roife, Junior, lowering his weapon, and regarding his prostrate foe complacently. ‘'‘Send for the ambulance, May, and have the .body removed.” , But this order was never carried out, for the boy was seized from behind and swung round, while a masculine voice—a voice that brought a swift colour into May’s cheeks, and a glad' light in her eyes—exclaimed— : ■ * /‘You bloodthirsty young- Britisher! What are you doing r/’ : ■ :• .‘‘‘Now then, I say,; ■ Kolfe. senior, let me go-. I’m shooting Boers. How did you get in?** i A-- r “Through the door, of " course. Did

you think I came down the chimney? May, my darling.” He was on his knees before Per, his arms round her waist, his lips close, to hers. Kolfe, junior, promptly levelled his revolver at them. “If you kiss May,” he said firmly, i

shall fire.” . . , “Fire away,” his cousin responcteu with a laugh—the boy’s jealousy always amused him —“but you will only be wasting powder and shot, for I shall kiss May all the same. Wliat’s that you say? She’s your sister, not mine. I am delighted to hear you say so. I would not” —smiling into the girl’s troubled eyes—“have May for a sister oil any account; not for anything you could give me, Rolfe .junior.’’ . . “Oh, all right, then,” he rejoined axfa bly ; but why can’t- you sit on a chair ? That’s such a very uncomfortable position.” “Is it. May ?” But May glanced over his shoulder to- where her little brother stood, suspicion lurking in his small, expressive face. “Kolfe, dear,” she said, “run and tel 1 mother who is here, and then ask Sarah to toast some cakes for tea.” You can help her if you like.” “Well, but if 1 go you will make Kolfe senior get up. He’s smothering you, and” —in a tone of deep disgust, lies wearing out the knees of his trousers. The lovers looked at one another, and then suddenly and simultaneously they broke into merry peals of laughter. :• “Yon young tyrant! Be off with you” cried Mr Penrhyn at last, rising for the purpose of expediting the boy’s departure. But Itolfe junior bad not studied war tactics for nothing; a™ he deemed this a- fitting occasion for practising Boer “slimness.” His voice was heard uttering vague threats against Britons and Boers alike, as the drawing room door was shut and! locked behind bl “Gh, Kolfe, what has. happened ?” May asked. “I thought- you were to sail last, night.” . “So I was, but the Montrose has met with, an accident. She collided with the river • wall in .changing d°cks; damaged her. stern ; injured her platesj it, will take at least ten days to do the necessary repairs. Much may happen m ten days, May.” “What do you mean?” Tie whispered something in her ear “Oh, no, Kolfe, no!” she cried, flushing and trying to escape from his encircling arms. ' “I can’t—you know I can’t.” “I know nothing of the sort.. Now, listen to me. May. You believe yourself bound by a promise made .without your parent’s' consent when you were ;amere, child;; ..and I say you are not bound. No one with an ounce of cone mon sense would dream or holding you to such a promise. It is an insult to Captain Hamilton to suppose that he, when he knows the truth- What s that you say? He need never know. My innocent darling, do you think a man worth his l salt would not soon nnd it out?” . “He is poor, Kolfe; and he can only get this money by marrying me.” “By marrying- Marygold Hamilton.

Just so. But suppose that when Cap-, tain Hamilton returns from South AfriC a—as God grant lie may—there is no Mary gold Now don t interrupt me. Suppose the condition on which alone he can inherit, breaks down —what then? To whom does, the money revert ?” “The next-of-kin, I suppose. ““Exact] v. -And who are the next-of-kin.” ' . TT “Oh. I don’t know. Captain Hamilton’s relations. I should think.’ “Captain Hamilton has no relations, as I have taken pains to ascertain. You yourself are his nearest connection ; and failing your father, who was next-of-kin, the money goes to his eldest child. To von. May.” “I couldn’t take it.” she gaspeu. “You. couldn't keep it. you mean; hut you will take it, and on the day niu become Mrs Penrhyn you will transfer the whole by deed of gift to Captain —or, rathe*:,' Major Hamilton; liis promotion, which lie richly deserves, was gazetted last night. Poor Major Hamilton, he little dreams that lie lias escaped from the Boers only to fall into the hands of a designing; and nnserupu--loti s womci . G \v\ci dvs i} fts in ft l keel lii tlx as her own; and she intends to nurse him back to health and strength at the .Manor.” . ... . . But May was a little bewildered by the rapidity with which events were marching. . , , c “I’m not sure, she said, hait-aima-eious, half afraid, “that I don t want to marry Major Hamilton myself!" “Then perhaps this," he rejoined triumphantly, producing from his pockety a special license, “will enable you to arrive at a decision.” May stared at it with lovely, startled eyes ;* and just, then there came a long knocking at the door, and the voice ot Rolfe junior raised in indignant protest. “May! May!” he shouted. “Let me in. Tea’s ready, and the cakes are getting cold.” CHAPTER IV.—SEE THE CONQUERING HERO COMES. When General Duller at length entered Ladysmith he found the hospitals full, and almost the first- man to be carried out and placed in Princess Christian’s ambulance train for conveyance south was Major Hamilton. He was suffering from, enteric, and: had besides been badly wounded in the right shoulder. A mere wreck, lie.looked, the handsome gallant soldier who had left England barely five months before. Of the triumphant entry of our troops into the beleaguered town, and of the scenes of 'wild enthusiasm which took place on that, never-to-be-forgotten day in February; lie had no recollection, being; in the grip of the fever which found so many victims. On arriving at Durban ho was transferred to the hospital ship Maine, and sailed with other invalided officers for Southampton. .And this was bow it happened that a large concourse of people assembled on the Liverpool Landing Stage to greet the Norseman on her arrival in the Mersey, and welcome some of the brave defenders .of Ladysmith, were defrauded of their hero-worship. Gwladys Penrhyn, who with Mrs Penrliyn and'little Kolfe, had come to town to meet the steamer, on hearing that there were no' officers from South Africa on board, threw up her small head and declared vehemently that the Dominion liner had no business to leave Durban before Major Hamilton had arrived there. It was iniquitous. Mrs Penrhyn laughed at her sister-in-law’s suggestion that they should at cuce proceed to London to meet the Maine; but she telegraphed to Major Hamilton, and also- forwarded the letter which Kolfe had 1 written before he sailed, and. letter and telegram were duly delivered to. the Major on the arrival of the Maine a week later. , The telegram contained only a dozen words : “If able, come straight to Liverpool. Wire train. Will meet- you.— May.” " The letter was a warm invitation from Kolfe Penrhyn, begging Major Hamilton to make the Manor his home so long as he remained in England. He (Kolfe) was on the eve of sailing for South Africa, - but his. wife and sister would; do thpir best .to .make Maj or Hamilton’s; stay a. pleasant one, and the pure air and bracing atmosphere of the Wirral Peninsula would, he was sure, do wonders for the invalid. And Major Hamilton, not understanding in the least what- it all. meant, but feeling in his weakness and loneliness the need of just such a home as was here offered, and recognising the real kindness and generosity of the invitation, accepted it gladly and gratefully, and wired by what train he might be • expected. '••

A beautiful little' pony carriage—theponies wearing rosettes and streamers of red, white and blue, and their harness glittering like silver in the April sunshine— -stood waiting outside the picturesque station at Tliurstaston as the Birkenhead train slowed in; and a distractingly pretty girl, also wearing the national colours, who sat with the reins held loosely in her small brown hands, craned heir neck to catch the first glimpse -of alighting passengers. “I see him,” she exclaimed presently

in a rapturous undertone. “Oh, auntie, I see him.” “My dear,” expostulated the sweetfaced lady addressed, ‘‘you can’t possibly recognise Major Hamilton at this distance.” “I can. Roberts is helping him out of the carriage. Now they are coming. Oh, how ill he looks! My hero! ' My hero!” she added, in the softest, sweetest of whispers. Then her eyes darkened and dilated, raid her face broke into an ecstasy of light and colour as a tall, gaunt man in undress uniform emerged on to the open space before the station entrance. Mrs Hamilton got out of the carriage, and introducing herself as “May’s mother,” warmly greeted the traveller who, exhausted after his long; journey, could only express his thanks in short, broken sentences. And, even as he did so, his eyes wandered t.o the pretty figure sitting so still and upright in the carriage. “Are you—May?” he asked, advancing: a step and taking the girl’s outstretched hands—and as their eyes met something surely of her gladness of heart, musthave communicated itself to him, for a smile, sweet as it was rare, flickered for a moment ever his thin, haggard face. ''No, ' she answered, smiling; back at him. “I am Gwladys—May’s cousin. There is a likeness, isn’t there, auntie? Now get in, both of you; Roberts will see to the luggage. Where is the claret? Major Hamilton must have that and a sandwich immediately. Oh, yes,. you must. And tuck that rug more closely round him, Roberts. We are not in South Africa, you know.'*’ In this wav did Gwladys Penrhyn take possession of her hero, and he never disputed her right so to do. Through sheer weakness at first, afterwards through some sweeter and stronger feeling, he allowed himself to be petted and tyrannised over, and teased and adored. And it came to- this —that Major Trevor Hamilton, of the loth Hussars, vigilant soldier and famous scout though he was. walked straightway into the' ambush a loving woman’s hands had prepared for him.