CHAPTER VIII-A CLAIRVOYANT TEST.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 10267, 26 January 1895, Page 3

CHAPTER VIII-A CLAIRVOYANT TEST.

Under a spreading chestnut, on the crest of a bit of upland in the orchard, was a rustic seat, which Buxton selected as specially adapted for a qaiet after-breakfast smoke. It commanded a view of the entrance pathway through the garden to the house, of the slope beyond, which terminated at the ford, and of the rising ground on the other side, from a point in which Buzton had obtained his first glimpse of the " den." Here, on the, morning after his serious talk with Nolan, he had ensconced himself, when his host joined him, evidently ill at ease. He had found, as he confessed, that he conld not dismiss his old friend's revelations from bis mind as idle dreamt:, and was painfully anxious, mainly on ma daughter's account. " Don't trouble too much about it, Jim; I feel confident I can rid you of this dubious neighbour of yours without resorting to force, and then, perhaps, Miss Winifred will lend a more favourable ear to the pleadings of her rustic suitor, of whom you told me." "I have been chatting with the wife," Nolan rejoined, " not entering into details, of course; but hinting I have reasons for fearing that Winchester would not prove a desirable match for Winnie, and she tells me, which she had not cared to do before, that Winnie has herself owned to be under a sort of spell with Winchester. She does not love him, she says; does not even like him; and yfit cannot resist his fascination, and is confident that if be asks her to marry him, she will consent. Now all this, coupled with your damned visions, Fred, makes me extremely uncomfortable." "No wonder, old man, no wonder. But keep a good heart. This is not the first trouble in life you've had to fight your way through." " Ay, ay, that's light enough. My past difficulties," said Nolan, " stood oat straight before me, and you know I met them like a man; but how is a fellow to grapple with an uncanny mess like thi3, which may turn out to ba nothing but a will-o-th'-wlsp after allJ" " That's why I say, Jim, leave it to me, who have been studying uncanny things for a quarter of a century, and can meet them in their own sphere." Nolan continued to look dissatisfied, and Buxton, putting bis hand on the other's shoulder, added more impresnively— "Look here, old mate, I'll furnish you with a test that my clairvoyance is not mere moonshine, and if it cornea to nothing I give you leave to call me a credulous fool; and what's worse, to think me one. You remember about my old love affair, which I have always avoided as a subject painful to talk about. Well, I'm going to talk about it now." "Don't do it, Fred, if it hurts you," Nolan said, with a ring of early comradeship in his voice, which was pleasant for Buzton to hear. " Oh, yes, I will," the latter resumed, " for there's more coming of it here, right away, if my oracles do not deceive me; and they have never done that siace I learned how to place myself thoroughly en rapport with them. This is how it was. "When I first left England I was head over ears in love with a girl named Marian Massinger, and she appeared to be similarly in love with me. We were both very young, and it was to hasten the day when it would be possible for ns to marry that I set off to Australia to seek a fortune. She lived in our neighbourhood, and. persuaded her mother

with whom I was a prime favourite, to take her ta Liverpool, so that w<s conld have our laßt good-byes on board the ship tbat was to carry me over the ocean. I thought she would have fainted when har mother had to tear her away from mo. For norae time after I reached Australia her letters, I think you know, came as regularly as the mails in those primitive times would let them, and tbe boys used to chaff me about them. Anyway, they were everything to me, and when they stopped, shortly after we got our biggest haul, I was about as miserable a bandicoot as drew breath that side of the equator. I had more gold than ever before in my life,, and would gladly have given tbe whole of it for one line from Marian. At last there came a letter from her dear old mother, trying to make the best story she could for ber daughter, and, at the same time, fall of grief on my account. It was a common tale enough. A local bank manager, a fellow in a good position, handsome, too, and greatly sought after, had taken a fancy to the girl, and offered himself. It was too much for poor Marian. All the women in the place were settings their caps at Mr Alexander Hood—that was his name—it wa« a sort of competition among them, and I believe the thought of besting them all, and becoming an object of general envy, had most to do with her surrender. At all events, I was thrown over; and that was the end of it fer me—until this morning." " Until this morning I" Nolan exclaimed. " Yes, that is where tb« test I spoke of comes in. This morning I had a vision of my old Bweetheart sorely ill and in distress, and she turned to me for help. Before tbe day is out —nay, as my clairvoyant sense assures me, before this hour expires, I shall have news of her." " By Jove, Fred 1" Nolan cried, " you're a ] rum 'nn. How can yon be so confident ?" His face bore a smiling expression of incredulity and banter; but next momeut he added — " Hullo t there's someone coming up tbe garden. Is this your mysterious messenger, I wonder ?" Buxton turned his eyes in the direction indicated, and instantly rose from his seat. "That! Why that's Gus Stavely, who came over with me from New York. He parted from me at Liverpool to visit bis old mother at Wakefield. He left me the address, and I let him have a line to tell him where I was biding." And then he added in an undertone— "He surely cannot know anything of Marian." " Who is he ?" asked Nolan. "Do I know him?" "I tbink not," answered Bnxtoo. "He

came to t-.»ts colonies after you left. He is a clever sovt of fellow, with loads of general information and a ready pen, and I had him working for me on the paper for several years. We ran against each other in the States lately, much as you and I did in London, and I delayed a while in New York to hs.ve tbe benefit of his companionship over the Atlantic."

By this time the visitor had sighted them, and waved his hand to Baxton. who returned the salute. He was a red-faced, broad-set, sandy-haired man, jovial of aspect, and as little like one who had burned the midnight kerosene over newspaper work as could well be conceived.

" Well, Gus," said Bnxton, after he had introduced the newcomer to Nolan, "so you managed to track me." " Oh, there was no difficulty abont it. The stationmaster gave me suca elaborate directions that a blind man ac night time could hardly have missed the place, and I thought a six-mile walk'would take the railway chill out of me. " I hate railways," he added; " they carry one just as quickly through an Elysium as through an Avernus. The only decant railway I ever travelled on was up the heights at Qaeonsland, where they stopped the trains at choice spots for tha passengers to have a good look at them." The three men took seats under the verandah of ths cottage, where Mrs Nolan speedily provided a little light refreshment for Stavsly after bis pedestrian exercise. When this repast, accorriDanied by conversation equally light, had bsen disposed of, Stavely turned to Buxton and informed him that he came chargad with a message for his private ear which he should like to deliver at once.

Baxton gave Nolan a significant glance, and the latter said—

" Take Mr Suavely to my aancfcrun, Fred. There you'll be tiled in. I've one or two odd jobs I wane to do before dinner. I suppose Mr Sfcavely will not return to-day."

"Thanks, Mr Nolan, I mast go back by the evoniac trails," Stavely said, "and it's on the cards that Fred'll accompany me."

Euxton conducted his friend to tho study, where they were " tiled in," aa Nolan termed it, for upwards of an hour. The communication which Stavely was anxiouß to make completely verified the former's clairvoyant impression. It appeared that he had not been in Wakefield many days before learning that the sympathies of his mother and sisters were keenly enlisted on behalf of a lady who had fallen on evil times, and was lying sick almost tmto death, nursed by a daughter whose love and patience in the midst of suffering and poverty wer« the sab4ecti~tf unstinted praisi. The-lndy^Bsma

was Hood. Her husband bad once held an excellent position, but ha had succumbed to habitH of intoxication, and had drunk his way to a sofa grave. His (loath v-ih not much of a calamity to the household, for Mrs Hood had lattorly supported him as well as herself by keeping a lodging house. It was when she fell Into a prolonged sickness that the severest pinch came. The loSginghouse had to be abandoned, and the furniture sold to defray current expenses. A few friends had helped, but the sick woman felt assured that her end was approaching, and her heart was heavy with fesrs for her daughter, now over 20 year* of age, and by no means as strong as she was beautiful. When Mrs Hood heard from the Stavelys that a member of their family had returned from Australia, she had askod if he knew anything ot a gentleman named Frederic Buxton. In this simple way bad it come about, after all these long years, that a fresh link wai forged betwixt Buxton and bis old love, who had so lightly cast him off, but whom he had never ceased to regard with feelings of tenderness and affection. Mrs Hood on ascertaining that he bad been Swvely'B room mats in the Atlantic liner, and was now in an adjacent county, seemed to be made happier by the knowledge, but expressly forbade any letter or telegram being seat to him. She had spoken of him as an old friend of her family—nothing more. It was the daughter, who knew something of tb« early romance, that had conspired with Stavely for the latter to bacome personally an emissary to disclose these facts to Buxton, leaving him to take such action as he chose. With moistened eyes and softened expression, Buxton once more sought oat Kolas, where he .was busy among his pigs and poultry, to inform him how the clairvoyant test had eventuated.

"It is wonderful, Fred, wonderful. IE it were anyone but you, my old mate, I should suspect it was a put up job; I should, indeed. But I know with you it is all straight and aboveboard."

And then, at Baiton's request, he gave orders for the buggy to be ready in the evening to drive Boston and Stavelr to the railwar station

(To be continued.)

— In Russia you must marry before 80 or not at all, and you may marry only five times.

— Some interesting figures about the correspondence which fakes place between England and America huve been compiled by Mr Hen-niker-He&toa. Tt appears that in 1891 no f«werthan 10,000.000 letters came from the United States to England. In the course of the year WO.OOO people travel between the two countries.

if I did not regard the c»se as one of enormous practical importance. I do not believe that bimetallism means a cure for all the ills of life, nor even all the financial difficulties of New Zealand; but lam convinced that ultimately the present system will end in terrible fluanoial disasters to this colony, as to most other countries, and I believe that the establishment of bimetallism would ensure the steady advance ot the world's commerce in the way of expansion and prosperity, and that wo ourselves would gain no insonniderable share of these great advantages. And to give the matter a special bearing, I think you will agree with me that the financial and commercial condition of this country of ours to-day gives very little promise of any proaporom development along the lineswhich we have followedforthelast2oyears. I need hardly dwell at length npon the characteristics of this universal depression and disorganisation that has within this score of years overtaken commerce. England finds its agriculture approaching the verge of destruction, its chief manufactures undersold by Orientals; a fall in profits has paralysed where it has not killed capital, and a suggested fall in wages has frequently resulted in a widespread industrial war. England's chief dependency, India, is really bankrupt, and her other colonies art overloaded with debt constantly increasing. In America the wageearners have been urged by destitution and despair to band together against their employers in destructive and murderous strikes. In Germany the teaching of Socialism to the justly discontented wage-earners is undermining all modern conceptions of social and commercial existence. In France and Spain the Anarchists urge upon the starving proletariat the creed that j death amid the ruins of their prison would be better than a life of hopeless servitude. Everywhere throughout the world omens and signs of danger threaten the security of commerce and of society, and no efforts yet made seem likely to cure these evils or cope with the spreading disaffection or relieve the abject poverty of the lower industrial claases. And not even the rulers of trade can boast of success and sifety; for they suffer through the injuries of the industrial classes who support them. And to deioend to particulars in our own land, what [do we see to-day ? The growth of our most ! valuable products is checked and stunted by low prices. Our manufacturers are crippled, our public debt is constantly increasing, our colonial credit system is disorganised. Enterprise is dead, the gains of capital are reduced to the barest minimum, employment is irregular and its limits ars constantly contracting; in fact, we exhibit all the symptoms of collapse and failure that seem just now to characterise everywhere the social side of civilisation. I say "seem" advisedly; for I am not one of those who believe that modern civilisation needs to be destroyed and superseded by same radically different form of social existence. The social organism ■is out of health, or, to chance the metaphor, something has gone wrong with the social machine. It is in the

Moreten Frewen, the well-known bimetallist ju«t now passing through these colonies :—" Wo have seen Indian legislation mine the Indian exchange against London on the one hand, against Hongkong and Yokohama on the other; whereupon the exports of India, both to the gold standard and the silver standard nations, commenced forthwith to shrink. We have seen daring six rnontha the yarn exports from Bombay cat down 33 per cent; while Japan, her mint* open to silver, has donbled her looms and spindles within the ye&r. Why, if overseas trade is barter, should iuph effects follow such a causa? What matter closed mints, if nations swap cottons for rice, and if the exchanges play no part p" The investment; of capital and the element of time duration incidental to the extension ef credit make rising, or at least steady, prices necessary to the success of every form of commerce. There are many other aapeota to this question, but those I prefer to examine later on. And I pub the case thus before you now only to show that theHe are prim& facie grounds for accepting the theory that low prices are answerable in a very large degree for the distressing depression and embarrassment to which the world's finances are now compelled to submit. CONTKASTS. If noone had ever known anythingof ■> different condition of commercial existence, wo would have little to aid us in our search foi: a care for such disorders as I have tried briefly to describe. But one does not need to be an old man to be able to wear " that sorrow's crown of sorrows" which on the authority of a great poet consists in remembering brighter d&ya—that is, for oat purposes, higher prices. Everybody who has lived in the colouiei knows something from hearsay, if not from experience, of the phenomenal development of prosperity in the quarter of a century following the great gold discoveries. The strange and terrible contrast between the activity and confidence and (access of those years and the lethargy and anxiety and distress of the last decade is at least sufficiently striking to engage the attention of the most onsnal observer. And if the observer has ever trained his mind to accurate methods of observation, he will try to find ths cause for the difference between the two commercial periods (1850-1875 and 1875-1895) by discovering the characteristics in which the periods resemble one another and those in which they are distinct. If he is a logician he will probably say that he i« applying the method of differences, and he will tell you that the differentiating factor is the amount of specie employed in commerce. The ordinary man who does his thinking without rules is only too liable to stop half wuy ; in which case he is likely to believe that he is a monometallist. For instance, how often is it to be one's fate to hear the meaningless theory that prices have fallen in the last 20 years because of decreased cost of production ai the articles of commerce and consequent increased competition. ' It is true that cost of production is comitautly falling. Yet this U not a feature of