THE WATCHMAN OF ORSDEN MOSS: A ROMANCE OF THE LANCASHIRE MINES.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 11047, 26 February 1898, Page 3

THE WATCHMAN OF ORSDEN MOSS: A ROMANCE OF THE LANCASHIRE MINES.

By J. MONK FOSTER, Author of "A Miner's Million," "A Pit-Brow Lassie," "Slaves of Fate," "A Crimson Fortune," iic, Ac.

COPYRIGHT.

CHAPTER. XVI.-AN TJNCOUSINLY COMPACT. Feeling vaguely conscious that her cousin's communication would bsve to deal with the three or four personages with whom her own young life was surrounded and intimately connected, Naomi Shelvocke permitted Levi Black-shaw to lead her without further questioning to the remote confines of the northern end of the garden, where a large, roomy,' and picturetque-looking summerhouse had been constructed at her uncle's suggestion. Bed and white rose trees grew about the entrance of the shady, open-air retreat; aweet-smelling, gaudy - flowered climbing plants twined themselves in and about and over the interlacing network of laths forming the hive-shaped bowar; patches of greensward, clusters of fruit bushes, clumps of posy beds lay before it; and inside, a bench of horseshoe shape ran round tba Bides of the alcove, in the centre of which stood a little rustic cable, constructed entirely from the unbarked branches of trees, cunningly interwoven. Here Levi Blackshaw led his cousin, and when she had seated herself quietly on one side of the table he dropped on the form opposite, his face grave still, and his whole bearing yet bora that mysterious and inscrutable appearance which had aroused all the curiosity iying dormant in his fair kinswoman's breast. . " Now, Levi," Naomi began, as she placed berubgloved hands on the table in front of her and leaned with an eager face towards her cousin, " now you can speak freely." "So I can, and you shall hear all," he responded, as he fumbled for his handler-' chief and wiped his face and brow. "And now it dawns upon mo, Naomi, that in my excitement I may .have been inclined "to exaggerate this matter. At least I may have, troubled myself somewhn.?. more about in thaa you may consider necessary." "I shall be better able to judge of that when I know to what you are alluding. It it concerns myself and that woman bo nearly —yourself, my uncle, and Mat also, there is reason to feel alarmed, Levi." "So I think—but you shall hear all. In the first place, there is room for believing that onr cousin has been very indiscreet, uaEeeliug—l may almost say brutal—in his Bayings and doings lately, if one is to believe what I have heard in the village. " What have you heard 1" "That Mr Aaron Sheivocke wished you. and Mat to marry, and that my cousin absolutely declined the match on any terms." ; "You heard that, Levi?" the girl demanded, as her slim hands, laid on the table before her, clenched themselves voluntarily, while her face hardened and grew paler. "If I did not hear it, howshonid I know 1" he muttered, nnamiably, with his keen eyes upon her. "And if I did hear it, who but Mat could have set the rnmour afloat?" " Lettice Forrester may have done so." "But the information must have come through him 1" he crisd, in sullen acger. "And it was sheer brutality in Mat to degrade you, his cousin^ ia the sight of this mob of ignorant villagers, in order to glorify himself and that pit-brow wench." "Is this all ? " she queried, quietly, though a black tide of bitterness was surging within her heaving breast. ■■'■■! " All!" ha cried. "It is but the prelude— l the comic prelude, I rajght say — to tba i tragedy that is to follow. We are both to i be sacrificed to the pomp and vanity, the love aud glory, the peace and eternal happiness ! of our fortunate cousin sod the woman be is I to marry I "he muttered in hoarse and nn- ] controlled passion. \ 1 "You are angry now, Levi; and I dc not! follow you 1" she retorted; in some woriderl "In which way are we to be sacrificed ? " "You will be angiy also when yon hear! " be cried. "And let ma impress this upon ■ you most clearly, Nsossu., What I have to j put before you now is not mere village gossip, bat information of the highest possible urgency to ourselves, which has been supplied to me from the most reliable source 1" he said, very earnestly. I " When I gather the import of your news, I cousin, its fountain head may interest me," she rejoined. " Now for your news." "It is this. You acd I are to be dispossessed—practically set aside and disinherited—ia favour of Matthew Shelvocke and this white-faced woman of the pit-bank. Mat is to have sole possession of Qr*a<m Hall', the collieries, and all the rest of it; you and I are to be cut oi£ with a few paltry thousands." . "Nonsense, Levi!" she exclaimed, faalfstarfcicg irom her seat. "It may seem so; but nevertheless it is true. My cousin is to succeed my uncle as Squire of Orsden Green, and the pit-brow girl is to become the Lady of Orsden Hall. This, of course, is all contingent upon the death of Aaron Shelvocke, and when he passes away in the fulieess of time—or its' emptiness—we shall havr the privilege and felicity of seeking a hocre elsewhere, unless dur fortunate kinsman a«s<i his charming wife choose to permit us to remain here." "Levi I You cannot really mean all 7ou say ?'" she murmured, lowly, staring straight before her with eyes that were filled with strasge speculations. "7 can scarcely believe that uncle will do ttsis thing." " Like myself, you dp not wish it," he retorted, with acynicai twist of his thin lips; " and like myself, also, you will be prepared to move heaven and earth to alter what has been done, unless lam greatly mistaken. The picture of Lebtide reignjng here in your place can scares;*- be more pleasant for you to contemplate. Naomi, than the thought of someone e«ae standing in my nncle's shoes is palatable to me." "But are you sure of Mi this, Levi ? " she demanded, with dilating nostrils and ominously flashing eyes, as p>a mentally viewed the picture he had ir-.tiicated. "Are you absolutely certain that what you state will take place some day ?" " Most assuredly; unless Mr Aaron Shel-1 vocke takes it into his head to make another will—or alter the one he has already made," was his emphatic reply. " That gentleman has a mind of his owe, as you may happen to know, and I have no idaa how he is to be brought to a more satisfactory mood. I should hardly care to talk to him on the subject; and even yon, Naomi, would shrink from such a task. Besides, after all, our kinsman has a perfect right to do as he likes with his own possessions." I " Certainly—but to think of that woman ! coming here!" she exclaimed, in a venomous j outburst of chagrin. "In is preposterous j absurd—unreasonable! Why should uncle do such a thing 1" «, " It is less preposterous, absurd, and unreasonable than you think it, my dear cousin," he answered, gravely. " I fancy this uncle of ours wishes to leave one of his own name behind him. My name is not Shelvocke, you see, Naomi; and your namß is hardly likely to be so, unless you marry yoar conain, and that is not very likely to happen now, I should imagine." She made no immediate response, and a black scowl settled upon the girl's strong,' handsome features, reflecting as in a mirror the colour of her bitter thoughts. In imagination she had leapt forward into the future, and was scanning the alterations time bad wrought. Her uncle was laid away I with liis fathers in tb« village graveyard, and, in his uncle's place, her cousin was reigning, and by his sW.s was her comely rival—the white-skinned, yellow-haired, pit- j brow-girl. She dropped her heavy lids over her eyes j to shot outthe hateful picture, and her teeth j came together with a vicious snap. Then she turned again to her cousin, with a breast surcharged, with all the worser qualties of her nature, and all the better and softer attributes of her character drowned beneath the black flood. Levi had watched her attentively ; had marked the fitful play of each passion as it flamed in her lace, glowed in her eyes, twitched in her restless fingers, and pulsed in her, surging breast. He saw, noted, understood, and waited calmly for her to speak. " You tell me all about this will, but how am Ito know that it is the trnth ?" she asked calmly, looking him strasght in the eyes. " Give me your solemn promise never to

, divulge your information or its Bource, and yon shall have names that will satisfy you " he replied, almost as calmly. " Fetch yonr Bible from the house, cousin, I and I will take my oath upon it," she replied, "if my bare word is not thought Buffi- ! cient." j "I will take your word, Naomi!" " \ give it to you. then." ; " You remember Jamea Wadsworth 1" i " Ouly faintly. I know he used to be a J fellow clerk of youra before you were brought to workal; Orsden Green, but I have only seen { him with you once." ! "He is my informasv. He is managing clerk for Messrs Scott asd Burgess, solicitors, of Coleclough. Uncle's will was drawn up there, and it was Wadsworth himself who drew out the document from the rough notes I of one of his principals. Wadsworth was i kind enough to oiler me his congratula- i tions—under a solemn pledge of secrecy— '[ and I had to pretend to be gloriously de- j i lighted with the conpla of thousands, free ] j of legacy duty, with which my uncle sees • fit to recompense mv relationship to him and my labours on his behalf." " Indeed ! And 12" j " You are treated more handsomely, Naomi. Five thousand pounds is your portion ; the remainder goes to Mat. I suppose we ought to congratulate each other on our I expectations 1" ho wound up, with a dry, j raucous laugh. j I would willingly give away my ezpectai. tions," she cried, in a burst of thinly-veiled j j wrath, "if onewomau were dead or out of i I the way ! " ! j " And I," he broke in gaily, " would be ! per/actly agreeable to make a present of ! mine to someone for the reversion of somci tbing my cousin has seen fit to throw away." j ) She stared at him, and'hot words rose to : her lips, but she suppressed them. Then j ailence came upon them both for a space. i Presently he remarked quietly.'...,-. ■I "What are we to; do, cousin?" " What can we do ?" she asked blankly. ■J "One might do much if it were worth I | one's while to be energetic," waa his pr?g-; I nant response. "I pray for no change save ; j one, and my uncle and his will have nofcbiog i jto do with that. Only a woman—one who i j is without kin in the village—-stands in yonr - I way; in mine is a blood relation—who is my 1 i rival, too." | j "Levi!" she began passionately, but the! uplifting of his hand, stayed the outburst of words. • ;, • 5 " I was going to say,'Naomi, that one could do and venture much were the reward j held out in proportion to the venture. Why i should I move'a band to make you and Mat i happy and myself miserable ? Better let | things-slide, as. they are sliding now, and take my chance in the end." ( ■ ■'< '; "Levi! This is madness I I can never I marry you Il' ' , J .." Then Mat will marry this pit-brow girl, i j and she will be themistress'of Orsden Hall, j j You have to choose between the least of two • evils—l am one, Lett.ice Forrester is the i other. If jon prefer to make Mat and his > sweetheart happy, and yourself and me j miserable, you will hava your own way, I j; suppose." . . -..- j i "What can I do 2" the miserable, heart- | stricken woman ejaculated in despair. " I do | j not love him now. I hate him—hate them | both 1 Help me to part them, and there is j nothing I will not do, Levi. I swear it, I \ swearit." i~ "If I prevent their ajarriage,you promise | to become my wife 1" ha cried, as ha rose to j his feet. | "I promise i " she answered faintly, as her dark head sank upon the rough table. "Then," he cried, with a tragic solemnity as he bent across the table until his lips touched her black, shining hair. " I swear to win you, Naomi, even if I lose my soul 1" ■; ■ .'.' : ''-.....' ■. j

CHAPTER XVII—TRIFLES LIQHT AS AIR. ! " A couple of letters for you, Mat; one for you, Naomi j one for you also. Levi; all the rest are mine.. Here you are." j .Mr Aaron Shelvocke distributed the mis- j sives which had arrived by post that morn-! ing at the Hall, and he and his relatives i began the morning repast. The master of the house was in ordinary attire, as was his handsome niece, Naomi; Blacksbaw was ] dressed in the neat suit of prim black tweed j he affected during business periods, while ,-the more homely Mat was garbed in the suit pf strong, dark blue "pilot cloth"' he wore in the mines.and about the pits. . j . ., The mine manager had been astir that j morning a couple of hours ere his relatives I .left their beds.. Each day he made it a strict J point of duty to put in an appearance at.the i pits on the Moss on the stroke of 6 a.m. to ! receive, either above ground or below, the I reports of his subordinates—thajunderlookera j. and firemen—respecting the condition of the j mines. ; " . • j On this particular morning ha had been to work as usual, and had paid a visit to the Cannel mine, remaining below until half-past 7, when he had ascended, the shaft to repair i to.tha Hall for breakfast. .. .-.,-. j Oq going down the pit in the early part j of the morning Mat had missed his sweet- ! heart from her accustomed place, but think- i. ing she might be engaged elsewhere he j thonght ho more of the matter. When he .3

ascended the shaft an hour and a-half later he made his customary perambulation of the pit brows, the shunts and shoots under which the waggons were loaded, went across the stocks of coal and about the waggonloads lying around, but saw nothing of Lettice Forrester's gracious figure, and. handsome face. ■■■■'. She was nowhere to be seen. She had evidently not come to work that morning. When he went on the pit head again he | questioned the surface foreman, ana found ; that Lettice was at home. Probabiy, the | foreman suggested, Lettics had overslept herself or was poorly. That suggestion coincided with Mat's opinion, and he thought no more of the matter until he took up and glanced carelessly at the two letters his uucle had tossed him. With the handwriting on the envelope of one he was quite familiar—it was that of a friend in the neighbouring town, a youog mine manager like himself, whom he met occasionally. The writing on the other epistle was unknown to him. It was a woman's hand, he thought, and the writing was that of an unpractised writer. Could it be Lattice who was the latter correiipandsnt ? Thinking it might' be so he put the letter in his pocket, and turned to his breakfast.

A little afterward?, after bidding his kins-* folk 'good morning, he returned.towards the pits. On the verge of t'ae Moss he took the , puzzling mioaive from his pocket,-tore oS the i covdr, and to his amazement found the iol- | lowing curious and somewhat annoying communication .-— : m ~ Orsden Green. To Mr Matthew Shelvocke. Dear Sir,—l takes the liberty of telling you j about some things which I do think you should know without auy delay. The young woman Lettice Forrester is not just everything you may think her, because she has done things on the quiet, and is still carrying on in a way that would open your innocent peepern if you kne* everything I could fell you. Bab I am nob ; going to tell you anything. If] did tell you I I shouldn't be believed, snd, besides, I might ' losß my place. But I daresay you can put trust lin your own eyes and what they show you. If 1 you can, be on the Moss waggon road, near the j stile that lead* towards Maydocklane, to-night, .'soon after it is dark. I beg to sign myself for j the present, I A Friend and an Honest Woman. ! Something in the nature of an oata fell (from the young fellow's mouth as he gathered the contents of the note he had so passionately crumpled up in his band. His hand was raised to fling the note away, but he thought better of it, and placed the offensive communication in his pocket. ! Then he laughed lowly to himself in derision. What fool was this writer of i anonymous nonsense, who imagined , that j bis faith in his sweetheart was of such a j brittle and unstable character that the first j breath of slander would shatter it to pieces? j Well, whoever the' unknown slanderer might be he or she would find ■ how fruitless the labour, had been. He loved Lattice too implicitly to pay the sligb test heed to such meaa innuendoes, and instead of doubting her such underhand work would but have I the effect of increasing his love of and faith jin her a hundredfold. Such were the thoughts Mat turned over in his trusting mind as the immediate outcome of the anonymous missive. Like all fond lovers he scorned the idea of believing that there were spots upon, the face of the snn he worshipped. Other women might not be perfect—might have flaws innumerable, —but the lovely girl be loved was all he could desire her to be. How he wished she might be at work when he returned to the pits, that he. might show her the note he had received, and assure her of his undisturbed j faith and fidelity. On regaining the bank of the Moss Colliery Mat did not care to ask the surface foreman again respecting Lettice Forrester. To have done so would have been to display the anxiety he felt concerning her, and he preferred that their joint affairs should not become the common gossio of the workpeople at the pits. , I Instead of making any further inquiries, Mat sauntered hither and thither about the brown and. screens, nodding pleasantly te this pit-brow woman or that surface labourer,'as was his habit, exchanging a word now and again with the banksman, engine-tender, or the men in the weighing cabin, his thoughts all the while centring on the letter and his sweetheart. ' ' Presently as he lounged against the fence that guarded the edge of the high brow, grazing across the wide stretch of partly redeemed moss, he heard a.stepbehind him', and on turning faced Ted Hayes, the surface ' foreman. •■ ..'...-...." " Ob, Meester Shelvocke," the latter cried, ss he paused for an instant at his superior's elbow, " yon were axin' this mornin' abeawt Lettice Forrester ■?." .: "So I was, Ted," Mat responded. "I was merely wondering why she wasn't at work, that's all." : -.'..■-. " Well, Nance Farley, who lives nex' door, has just browt me word as Lettice is ill. Ah thowt somethin' 6' th' soart was up wi' fcer." Mat nodded, and the other went about his business. Then the manager descended i one of the shafts, and remained below until '

noonday was past. Bat while underground he had done no more than simpiy pay various visits of inspection to different parts oE the seam, and all the time he was trudging along the subterranean galleries his mind had busied itself with the subject that had claimed his attention ere he 'left the surface.

Do what ha would he couid not dismi?a the anonymous communication from his thoughts for more than a, few moments at atime. He was foolish, he knew, to bother himself with such a trivial affair, yet he could not avoid it.

Ere noon came he had asked himselc many times . who could the writer be? What object had prompted Us writiog? Was the writer man or woman? It couldn't; be Levi Blackabaw, for he had everything to gain and nothing to lose by Mat's engage" ment to Miss Forrester. And surely his cousin Naomi would nsvar descend to such meanneas. : He concluded that neither of his kinsfolk was responsible for the contemptible scribble. It mnst be someone he did not know—pro bably one of Lettice's workmates, some of her companions on the brow, or in the village, whom she bad offended, and who wished to be revenged upon her by breeding ill-will and a quarrel between herself and her lover. Bsfore the shades of evening began to fall on Orsden Green and the surrounding country Mat had never dreamf; of carrying out one suggestion the writer of the anonymous letter had made ; only at dusk did he" begin to ask.himself should he do so or not. "Be on tbe Moss wsggon road, near the stile, that leads towards Maydock lane, to-night soon after it is dark." He read those words again and again, and again and again laughed at the unknown scribbler. Why should he go when he was so absolutely confident of his sweethearts probity and immaculate fidelity ? And yet, he reasoned, nos to go would almost seem to indicate that he was afraid of what he might discover. Perhaps, after all, it would ba better if he went. He bad nothing to fear. His dearly beloved was, like the wife of Cjesar, above suspicion, and to ; hide himself hear the place mentioned, and watch for results, would simpiy be to arm | himself doubly and at every point against I the traducers of Lattice. ! Yes, he would go I i An instant after his mind was fally made up he left; the Hall and made his way by a circuitous route, towards the stile he and his j love had passed through on that ever memor- i able Sunday evening when he and Lettice i Forrester had met Levi Biackshaw and I Naomi Shelvocke face to face. ' By tha, time Mat arrived at the stile the ! sun had set, and night was taking the place ; of twilight. Low on the edge of the western j horizon a long, narrow band of dark red 1 burnt dimly, and every moment the dim i clouds above sank downward, slowly extic-1 gnishing the last flicker of day. . j It was a warm, quiet evening, with scarcely j a whisper of wind in the air. In half an hour j the night would be as black as an autumn 1 night could be. Rapidly pausing the stile I Mat went forward for half "a hundred yards, j then he dived suddenly through a gap in the j hedge, and stooping low, returned to the spot ! he had left. .' ■ • j

Here in the.rank grass he crouched, sheltered from the footpath by the intervening hawthorn hedgerow. He was near enough to the stile to have been able to spit npon it bad he stood erect, and the environing gloom was not too dense to prevent him from recognising anyone passing through it. Ten minutes, 20 passed, and just when Mat was beginning to think that someone had been playing a harmless practical joke npon him, a voice and the noise of feel; fell apon his intent ears.

He dropped lower still, listened more in- | teDtly, and the footfalls grew clearer, the j voice more distinct. The feet were approach ing, and in another moment be was able-'*.-identify the tones of the! speaker. It was his cousin Levi . Blaekshaw who was speaking, and although Mat could not catch biß words^ there was no' mistaking the voice. He had heard it too often—was too familiar with its ovary note and modulation to be mistaken. A hasty glance through a thin place in the hedgerow showed him that a woman's figure was walking at Btackshaw's side. '_-.... In an instant the figures came nearer, and then Mat conld hear his kinsman addressing' soft, parsuasive words'to"the woman. "Do not give way, dear Lett.ice! ",Black- ■ Shaw was saying tenderly. "No one knows /.that there : is any: bond between-us, and no one will ever know. You mast marry him, even though yon do not love him ; and 6ven then we may be able to sea each other now and again. Now kiss me, dear Lettice.acd promise to do as I wish yon." With a heart tbat seemed suddenly frozen into stone Mat Shelvooks crouched in the grass and listened. He heard the' feet stop' abruptly opposite him, and could hear the choking sobs of the woman, heard warm, clinging kisses also, aad then half reckless he rose and stared across the/hedge. The woman had her^erms round Blackshaw's neck and .was kissing him passionately. The face was tbat of Lettice Forrester. He knew it too well to mistake it in the

I semi-darkness. Who else sava Lettics had I such a lovely complexion and beautiful hair ? j Wno else in the village had such a figure j and such a low, melodious voice ? At:d she was even wearing the pretty hat and jacket he had presented to her when ha placed the engagement ring upon her finger. With a stifled groan he sank back on ths rotsgb. tangle of ragged grasses, and ha heard them pass on in the direction of. the colliery. | A minute or two he crouched there, ovsrj whsimed by his woe, : tben he sprang erect and burst through the hedge. In an instant ha wa3 standing at. the stila aad peering about him.

They had diuappcaved; he conld neither sea nor hear them. Which way had they taken ? Had they gone through the colliery yard in the direction of Orsden Green—or, had they crossed the waggon road, passed through the other stile, and proceeded towards Gathurst Bridge ? For some moments, he knew not how many, poor Mat paused there, savage acd irresolute! Suddenly he turned and went towards his uncle's pits. A footfall met his ear, and quickening his pace he met the old watchman of Orsden Moss going measuredly on his ronnds, " Good neet, Mesiar Matthew," old Coxall sang out cheerily. "Good night, Dan. Have a. man and woman passed you V,'. ■■.: " Ay—a minute sin." " Dici< you know them ?" "Ah did. It was yore cousin Levi and a pit-brow wench they ca' Lettice Forrester ah think." * Mat gasped, and with an effort he choked back the exclamation on his tongas. Then he pnlled himself together, laughed a dry, hard, mirthless laugh, bade the watchman good night, and passed, slowly, thoughtfully homeward. ,7

(To be continued.)