FICTION

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1612, 21 January 1903, Page 5

FICTION

AN ANGLO-AUSTRALIAN TALE. (By Beresford Turner, Sydney.) (ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.) CHAPTER VI. > ‘‘GOOD-BYE, SWEETHEART, GOODBYES Lord Richard Witley, Charles’s elder brother could hardiy be termed a woman later; in fact, with his oiean-cut features and his delicately-constructed frame, it might bo said that he was admired by che softer sex: but as he stood on his self-erected pedestal of exclusiveness they admired from a distance. His naturady retiring disposition, coupled with a degree of hauteur, with no responsive look or acknowledgement of sympathetic feeling, gave ail with whom he came in contact an icy chill. As is already known, L© had been a delicate child, and though now arrived at man’s ©state he was not robust. The early formation of his character had been loft to his maiden aunt, Lady Betty, and that good lady, who was a thorough English Conservative, ha i imbued the youthful mind of her nephew with tne_ importance oh the British aristocracy. He would change his linen if there was a suspicion of dirt upon any part of it, and he would have hidden himself from the world if there had been a suspicion of a stain upon his honour. Lord Richard knew that his brother Charles was leaving home, and he knew also the cause, of his going. Had he been less reserved, and of a more warm-hearted disposition, his brother might have gone to him for sympathy; but Charles knew that, though he oould not doubt his brother’s affection, when the time came for parting he would shake hands and say “Goodbye” wdth an assumed indifference, as if they had been parting for a feAV days. Lord Richard Avould act thus, for the reason that he Avould think it his duty to demonstrate his disapproval of his brother’s actions; and if Charles took his trouble to his aunt, Lady Betty might drop a tear and express her scrroAV at parting Avith her nephew, at the same time lecturing him on the folly of liis proceeding. Being thus shut out from all family sympathy, it Avas no Avonder the young man made a strong resolve to pursue tho course he had chosen. As the Sabbath approached, knowing it would be liis last at Hazelmere. he wrote the following lines to Dame Dudman: — “Hazelmere, November 25, 18—. “Madam.—As the following Sabbath will be my last at Hazelmere, will you grant me the privilege of escorting your daughter, Miss Lily . Dudman, from church to her home after the evening service of that day ? I shall have tho honour of meeting you at the close of the morning’s service, when I must say ‘Good-bye’ to Mr Dudman and yourself. You can then inform me if this request meets Avith your approval.— YoUrs faithfully, “CHARLES WITLEY. “Mrs John Dudman.” Dame Dudman took the letter to her husband, who, after reading its contents, said: “Of course, my dear, av© must allow the young people to say good-bye. It will be a very bitter parting to them, but they will not forget that Ave have treated them with consideration, and in our endeavour to counsel them aright we have not been harsh.” The Sabbath came—an eventful day in the lives of the young lovers. The morning broke cloudy, and the mist from the north came SAveeping down the vale, home on by intermittent gusts of wind that carried them one after the other until they met at the cross roads, and formed into drizzling showers, through which the sun beamed in fitful gleams, giving them a yellow transparency. The chimes of Hazelmere Church sang out the call to God’s sanctuary. The winds seemed to catch each peal, ,apd carrying it afar, its echo answeringi m the distance, conveying to the . car rthe impression of another church andohjmes. Lord Hazelmere attende.d divine service oh theefirst- Sunday in the month only, on . which. occasion the carriage, with its high-stepping horse and aver, ied servants, was the mode of conveyance to the plaoe of worship. His Lordship expected all the members of his family to attend and occupy the Hazelmere pew on such occasions. This being the last Sunday in the month. His Lordship would not he in attendance, and the presence of other members of the family was optional. Dudman’s pew was occupied on every Sabbath morning by the majority of the family. Lily

rarely vacated her place in the choir. Lady Betty, Lord Richard, and the Honourable Charles occupied the Razeimere pew. As the pastor entered the sacred edifice the organ swelled its notes, and pealed forth the introductory, tho congregation bowing in silent devotion, and as the minister, turning to the congregation, repeating “When tho Avicked man turneth away from his wickedness,” the Avorshippers feel the solemn importance of the moment and tho beautiful impressiveness or the Church of England service. Tho morning service ended, the congregation emerge from the church into the old churchyard, with > its many gravestones embedded in the ground. (Thoughtful natures Avould glance at the stones as they passed Avith perhaps an inward hope that tho fleeting joy's and reverses experienced by its tenants in this life had been exchanged for a life of happy immortality. Lady Betty greeted tho Dudmans. AA’ith a gracious inclination of her head, and Lord Richard, raising his hat, passed out of the churchyard wth his aunt. Charles lingered behind, and greeted tho Dudman family, and avliqii addressing Damo Dudman he cast a SAvift, inquiring glance, Avhich that lady ansAvered Avith a beaming smile and a gracious inclination of the head. This Charles took as an intimation that his request as conveyed in his letter to the squire’s Avifo, Avas granted, and walking Avith them to the - entrance of the church-yard, their roads diverging, he bade them “Good morning.” As the shades of night darkened the distant landsoape, tho Avinds increased in force, gathering banks of clouds through which the silver moon in all its resplendent fullness shed its fitful glances. As Charles entered tho church the solemn music from the organ’s notes seemed to invite, as in sympathetic touch Avith his downcast spirit, in joining Avith the congregation in that beautiful supplication : “Sun of ray Soul, my Saviour dear, It is not night Avhen tnou art near.” He could not raise his eyes to the organ gallery, but he could hear the - voico cf her he loved so Avell. and he felt-that this bond of love was strengthened by the loa*© cf Him Ache loA r ed us, and gaA'e Himself for us. Tho rector of Hazelmere A\'as a man A\ T ell by his parishioners. As old Giles, avlio had to sit beneath the pulpit with a trumpet to liis ear, used to say, “His AA-ords Avere that fresh and mailer that you’d think he’d just gathered um.” There Avas an earnestness and pathos in the pastor’s voice, and such edifying result- from liis extemporo preaching that is never attained by the rev. gentleman avlio reads his sermons as a schoolboy Avould his lessons. The subject of the evening discourse was: “As the father hath loved me, so have I loved you. Continue ye in my love.” Though in liis intercourse with Charles, the pastor had never referred to the .subject of his leaving-home, yet the former could not help applying to himself a feAV kindly words delivered in tho course of the sermon; in fact, those wto closely folloAved the discourse could not fail to note the application, though very ingeniously applied, and in after days AA r hen miles of trackless ocean divided them, and Charles was banished to the solitary Avilds of an Australian bush, the feAV kindly Avords uttered from that pulpit AA T as one among loving remembrances of home. And iioav the sermon is ended, and tho day’s devotion closed Avith that soul-aAvakening evensong : “Abide Avith me, fast falls the even tide, Tlxe darkness .deepens, Lord, with me abide, When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, Lord, abide with me.” Charles is deeply impressed with tlie aptness of the service to the occasion, and many a kindly face that is turned towards him at the close of the service can see that he is visibly affected, He pauses at the door, and is greeted with a feAV kindly Avords from some of the Hazehnere tenantry. But on both sides the heart Avas too full for expression, and Charles is compelled to leave the porch fi: the sacred building, through which he was carried in liis infancy to receive his baptismal rights, and in later days the Sacrament of Confirmation. Charles passed on to the entrance gates Avhere he Aims joined by Lily. The threatening clouds had cleared, and the light of the full moon illuminated the lovers’ path. They moved on in silence, with slow, undecided steps, hand clasped in hand with a clingiiig fondness that conveys more than language can utter. “And the beating of ~their own hearts was the only sound they heard.” Charles was the first to break the silence. His emotions betraying themselves in every Avord. “You see how weak I am,” with a mournful attempt at a smile. “I, who was so full of bold resolution to rove the world.” A single pang shot through her heart, * and then the true womanly nature triumphed. She had not given her heart for superficial attentions. Hers

AA’as not a love to bo weighed and measured. She had given it freely, binding her soul unto his, until she felt and lived, suffered and rejoiced, not in herself, for herself, but in him, for him. They had paused in the shadoAV of the hedgerow. His head was bent low, almost on his breast. Lily looked up, placed her arms around his neck, and kissed him upon the forehead. This one spark of sympathetic love kindled the flame of pent-up emotio-n, and ho melted into tears, such a floAving torrent as rarely rushes from a man. Lily struggled hard to control her own emotion, and though her heart was very sad, she—-as Avoman always is in circumstances such as this Avas the stronger of tho two. Charles by a strong effort stemmed the torrent of his grief. “Dearest love,” said he, “do you know I should ha\ r e come to you AA'ben I came of age, and haA r o asked you to become my Av'ifc —not tho AA'ifo of a youth of tAventy-ono, but the affianced Avifo cf a man aalio avus prepared for the heat and burden of the day; knowing that the object of my life, the reA\ r ard of my labour Avould be ycur oavii sweet self. And now lam compelled .to lea\ r e you, but yet still With the hope of a bright future. lam going to the land of the ‘golden fleece’; they tell mo that in that land one can, by frugal industry, soon lay the foundation of a competency. Will you Avait a little Avhile for mo, dearest?” “Yes, Charles,” replied Lily, “I Avill AA r ait until you make for me a home, a homo dearer and happier for the waiting, and avlio knows how rich it may be, Charles, and if it Avere not rich, I would help make, it so.” “Ah, my love,” said Charles, “what riches AA'ould bo so precious as your bright presence. But be your own dear, brave self, and AA r hen I return to claim my promised Avifo, this Avill be but the memory of a sad, sAveet- parting.” “And always bear in mind, Charles,” said his SAveetheart, “that I do not forget that half your cares would have been lightened had you not chosen to love a farmer’s daughter. But I Avill love you always, not doubting your constancy ever.” And all the while these two young hearts, which were over aa’li ©lined AA'itli grief, strove to be calm, that one might restrain the other. But they had reached Dudmaa’s gate, and soon the good-bye must be said; and though each had much to say, and plans of the future to discuss, neither could trust tlieir tongues to give utterance to their thoughts; and while they stood with hands clasped, gazing the last, fond, confiding look of unutterable love, their lips quivering in a tremulous pause ere they said the final farewell, their*whole frames trembling as if some dire calamity Avere impending, a dark cloud SAvept bv. momentarily obscuring the rays of the moon o’erhead; with one fond lingering embrace their lips met to seal the compact of their mutual love. The iron gate swung open, a fair young form passed through and Charles Avas alone. And except the one bright gem in his heart, he Avas indeed alone in the world.

CHAPTER VII. “THE SEA WAS BRIGHT AND THE BARQUE RODE WELL.” The good ship Golden South lay. in the East India Docks. On. arriving in London,* Charles ascertained that she was timed to sail on the following day. Having a natural curiosity to see his temporary floating home he proceeded, to tlie decks, AA r here upon his arrival all his hurry, and to him it appears a confused maze that A\ r ill be difficult to restore to order. Aloft are the riggers putting a finishing touch to the sails and running gear. Beloiv in the hold the stevedores are securing the cargo. On the deck is a mixture of goods and dunnage, that by an American would be termed a general average of mixtures. Here is a chest that could be converted into' a family cupboard. It is liberally studded with brass-headed nails, on the lid is painted in rude characters : “Not wanted on the voyage,” and it is doubtful if it A\'ill be Avanted at the end of the voyage, as when, that period arrives, its OAvner (apparently an agriculturist) will in all probability take employment in the interior, where he will find a pair of blankets and a change of doming sufficient luggage, and the chances are that the huge chesu, and most of its contents will find its way to those persons Avho in the colonies publish the statement that they pay the highest price for emigrants’ luggage. But the seller realises --that it is the highest price at the loAvest ebb. Near the chest stands a cc , op'"of foAvls; the feathered occupants of which, by their cackling and flutterings; add to the general din of the surroundings. On the coop is to be seen a confused heap of portmanteaux, carpet ’ bags, etc., all tangled, requisites for, , the voyage, sqm© of which will be required’for and search made in vain, but whether wanted or not on the voyage, will reach its destination, and its owner.

As the Golden South is to go down the stream with the running tide, Charles has to be on board early next

day. When he arrives, preparations fc-r casting off are well on tho way. As he steps on board, liis personal appearance denotes that ho is not of tho common crowd, and a cuddy servant, Avith the true instinct of his craft, singles him out as a saloon passenger, and in a measure smoothes his AA r ay by conducting him to his berth. The ship, though chartered by the emigration authorities, takes a feAV saloon—or as tliey Avere designated in those days—cabin passengers, avlio are independent of Govornment assistance. Amidships and. forward are men, women, and children of different nationalities and countries. Loaning over tho bulAA'arks is a six-foot Lancashire navvy, iA r ith tho broad dialect of liis county, endeavouring to explain to a. tartan-clad Highlander that he is likely to be left behind if he ventures ashore for another nip. On the harness cask sits a raw-boned son of Erin, inquiring from a German \A r hat ha-then country ho comes from, that he don’t understand plain English until a touch of the brogue in it. Tho oreAV (or that portion of them avlio have recovered from their fareAvell spree) are Avushing d oavii decks, swearing and grumbling as only sailors can. As the lines are cast off, and the tug boat takes charge of the huge craft, someone amongst tho emigrant passengers strikes up “A Life on the Ocean Wave.”

Ere the good ship reaches the Bay of Biscay they Avill experience the reality of a life on the ocean wave. At Gravesend the anchor is dropped, and the ship’s agent, accompanied by a representative of the emigrant authorities, comes on board. Many of the passengers’ friends avail themselves of this opportunity .of a final fareAvell. Among them all there is no familiar face oar \uice to greet Charles. Perhaps he thinks ’tAA'ere better so, as a second parting adds another pang. He is fully recompensed for the absence of friends by receiving a letter from Lily, conveying a feAV sAA r eet Avords of assurance that all is Avell Avith her. The passenger list being verified, the ship is cleared by the Customs officers; all strangers return to shore, the anchor is weighed, and in charge of the Channel pilot, the good ship Golden South heads aAvay to the foreland.

Charles, whose mind has been occupied by the novelty of his new surroundings, now realises the loneliness of his position. Men are not given to tears, but there are scenes and circumstances that Avill draAv tears cf joy or sorrow from some men, and if a man weep it detracts nothing from his manhood. Joy and sorroiv are part of the lives of all, and if Charles, as he saAV his native land recede from sight, dropped a few tears, the reader of the fair sex,’ who has A\ r ept in tears of bitter sorrow, may feel a gleam of moisture in her bright eyes. Dover and its Avhite cliffs glistening in the noonday sun are passed, and on rounding the Cornish coast, Charles, Avhile gazing at Land’s End, is reminded of the appropriate lines of Charles Wesley, Avritten on the spot: “Low on a narrow neck of land, ~ ’Twixt two unbounded seas I stand.” A cutter is seen making its Avay from the land, with the evident intent of intercepting the ship, and oil coming alongside the pilot is discharged, and the Golden South with a fair wind and floAving sail, bounds away on the trackless path to the Sunny South. We do not intend to weary the reader with a diary of the voyage. It had its incidents and occurrences that broke the monotony of the progress. Charles with his genial disposition, w r as a general favourite, but though he necessarily made the acquaintance of many, he did not lay claim to many friends. The Britisher is slow to seek or give his confidence to another, but once an attachment is formed it. is not superficial. Included in the list of his felloAvpassengers in the saloon was aMr Pagery, a returning prominent colonist of many years’ standing; tail, broadshouldered, Avith a Avell-knit, muscular frame, crisp black hair, ana a heavy moustache of the same colour, and although he could count well nigh sixty summers, he was as straight as a poplar, and not a grey hair in his head. H© had obtained a high political position in the colonies. Imbued with a sense of patriotism for the land of his adoption', he had coveted the honourable position for honour’s sake, but -he found that honours Avere easy, and abuse took more than the odd trick. Consequently he returned to his pastoral pursuits, realising that there was more in avool than in politics. Mr Pagery _ was a great smoker, and took especial delight in colouring clay pipes. Charles had not arrived at the stage of plug tobacco, but he enjoyed his after-dinner cigar, and with liis newly-acquired friend would pace the deck, mingling his .cigar smoke Avith that from the pipe of liis friend. “You will find,” said Mr Pagery, in. reply to a. query from Charles, “that tho true Australian is a first-rate fellow.”

“Well,” said Charles, “how do you define the .true Australian?”

“By a true Australian,” was the r«a ply, “I refer to those who have mad®their home and have a stake in the country. He may be always in a hurry; that folloAvs as a consequence of the

gold mining days, when all were going at top speed with the one goal— affluence—in view. Then you will find some Australians very independent, and! naturally very proud of their independence. In some instances you will find that Jack is as good as his master, and sometimes better, and that ho will assert his equality by suddenly throwing up his employment and leaving his master with all his business arrangements disorganised. In this connection you must understand I am not referring to the true Australian, hut rather to a class oF men. who are the vampires of honest labour, and, being void of principle, will alternately pose as unionists or free labourers. Wo must give the trade unions credit for the fact that they ape endeavouring to _ weed out this class of men by the giving them clearly to understand they must lay but one plank, and walk that plank ouiy. Then he will in all probability join the ranks of the unemployed, whom a fraternal Government cotton to—that is, while they hold the necessary qualification, an elector’s right; and' you may be sure he always travels on that ‘ticket.’ ”

“What about the Press of the colonies?” inquired Charles.

“Well,” was the reply, “I think you will find the Press of Australia pretty straight. They hit out from the shoulder at times, hut they seldom abuse their liberty. Taking the leading journals of the day, I think I am correct in stating that they are absolutely free from corruption. Of course, there are a few unimportant publishers, some of whose productions are sold in tiie streets in one colony at least on the Sabbath, hut their influence is most limited, and hardly reaches further than the minor lower order.”

“If you adopt a pastoral life,” continued his newly-acquired friend, “you will find l some sterling young fellows among the squatting fraternity —men who can shoot straight and ride hard; ami though full of animal spirit, which is the outcome of their outdoor, sunny life, are very temperate. Among all the’ young past o ral ists’ or squatters’ sons I have come in contact with, I have not met a blackguard. The cities produce a varied youthful article. There you meet the smart, courteous clerk or shop assistant who assumes the responsible dignity that might sit well on. the shoulders of the head of the firm. These youngsters are a distinct, class of themselves. Well behaved m public and private life, their courtesy and polite respect for their seniors and the opposite sex demonstrate itself in every action. Their conduct is no doubt influenced by home surroundings. Youth is always on the alert for novelty, and the parents of these youth (who will in time develop into good citizens') have thought the matter out, and so. organised their homes as to render them superior to all counter-attractions that would have a vicious tendency Of course, they are fond of outdoor sport, as all Australians are. The climatic conditions too strongly favour outdoor exercise as a part of the existence of colonial life that it would be passing strange were athletic sports a less prominent part of amusement. Nevertheless they conduct their sports in a manly manner, exhibiting with their spirit of emulation a remarkable degree of fair play. It has been stated* that the Australian youth is effete and degenerate, but my observation enables me to contradict this illusion. There is growing up in Australia a race of men who will hold their own with any nation and they will develop into a nation that will have to be reckoned with. Of course, we have our rowdy element—roughs they are termed in London, hoodlums in America. We '-designate them larrikins.’ They are another phase of Australian life, and a serious phase it is. The colonial rough a low, cowardly, vicious blackguard, possessed of a degree of cunning that would ‘shame a fox. They congregate in gangs, or, to use their own expression, ‘pushes.’ An individual larrikin is . a sneaking coward, but woe betide the helpless creature who comes in contact with a ‘push.’ If he escapes with his life he is so brutally mauled that the hospital is his destination. They defy the law, or at least the law’s representative < especially if there is a heap of road metal at hand. But let one get into the hands of the law he will cringe and crawl and whine like a whipped cur, and for language of profane indecency he is unequalled. Every sentence is emphasised with refined lewdness and brutal profanity that could not be phrased except after diligent study of the baser utterance of language ; and f a female be passing the louder and choicer their abus-e. This portion of Australian communities is causing serious thought, and if it is not checked by special legislation which will authorise the use of the lash, and that for what the law terms minor offences, it ■will indeed be a large order to suppress them.” This information and impression of Mr Pagery’s Australian life were not imparted at any one particular time, but is summarised for brevity’s sake. That he was fortunate in forming the acquaintance of an honest, straightforward man Charles was fully conscious of. His new friend was a thorough Australian, also a keen observer, and whatever subject was introduced or cri-

tieised was with a full knowledge of the matter, and not the superficial opinion. of a globe-trotter. The golden South wan bounding along with fair winds, and on nearing the Equator Charles, with the buoyancy of youth, was settling down to his new surroundings, and from his elevated position on the quarter-deck could take quiet observations of the emigrants, their occupations, and endeavours to break the monotony of the voyage, and succeeded in deriving a certain amount of amusement therefrom. On a bright night, when the firmament was studded with clear and sparkling constellations that would dim the glitter of the brightest gems, and the white sails were crowded on every stick, he would hear some scrap of song from the main deck and the voices of the happy voyagers would join in the chorus “Oh! gaily goes the ship when the wind blows fair;” but amidst all the varied scenes and counter-attractions of his surroundings his mind for .ever dwelt on the fair image of his love, and as alone he paced the deck his voice would give utterance to his thoughts as he gently sang:

“For her voice lives on the breeze, And her spirit comes at will, Anl at midnight on tho seas Her bright smile haunts, me still.”

Mr Pagery had not attempted to presume oil the youthful friendship of Charles. He, a.s a man of the world, could discern that there was some secret troubling the young man’s mind, but he did not attempt to ingratiate himself into his confidence. While at all times willing to impart practical advice, Mr Pagery was not inquisitive in. discussing colonial life. On one occarsiom the subject of Australian women was introduced.

“Weill,” said thei old collomist, "in discussing the social life of Australia, I have confined myself principally to the youthful portion, for the reason that you will form your estimation from a similar standpoint. In reference to the women of Australia, I cannot pose as an authority. My early life in the colonies being spent principally in the interior, I was naturally debarred the privilege of much feminine society, but speaking as far as my observation goes, I should say they possess many traits cf character opposite to their sisters in the Old Country. But for style, grace, deportment, and clear grammatical pronunciatiom of the English language, the Australian girl stands unrivalled, and in the higher social life yon will meet ladies who would be quite at ease in an English drawingroom. Taken as a whole, the Australian girl is a piece of feminine creation, with a lively, hopeful, bright temperament. We don’t treat them as frail creatures, and they object to being called the weaker sex. That they are brimming' over with mirth and harmless mischief goes without saying. Their modesty is unquestionable, and they are comrades, every one.” (To he Continued.)

THE BANISHMENT OF THE HONOURABLE CHARLES.