After Long Years. THE NOVELIST.

Otago Witness, Issue 1429, 12 April 1879, Page 21

After Long Years.

THE NOVELIST.

By Fabiak Bell,

A COLONIAL STORY.

Author of " Stella," the " Big Nugget," &c.

{Written for the Otago Witness.)

Chapter XII. A Bribe.

A letter which Maurice Stretton received on the ensuing day, did not cause him to change his purpose, but rather urged him on towards its completion. This letter was from George H. Ellis, and ran thus :— "lam sorry you cannot get on with Macintosh ; he is a great character I believe, but as honest as the day." [A very different description to that which they gave me of him when in town, murmured Maurice, commenting as he read.] "We think it would be better for you to conciliate him, such men are dangerous when offended. He is fully up to his work, and we think you had better not attempt to interfere in his special department, the mine ; unless indeed you should have reason to suspect that anything is wrong there, and then it will be your duty to apprise ua at once of the fact." [Oh, indeed ! and then be told to mind my own business ; no, no, gentlemen, I will not trouble you with suspicions ; if I tell you anything it shall be facts. Oh, what is this ? a postscript. _ This epistle is like a wasp, the sting lies in the tail.] " I think I told you that we were hoping to form the Wai-wai mine into a Joint Stock Company." [No you didn't, said the reader.] "The preliminaries are nearly arranged, we have received a splendid offer, and if nothing occurs to prevent a final and satisfactory settlement, the business will be completed in a week or two. Your share will amount to nearly a thousand pounds." [The deuce it will, cried Maurice, "Hurrah for Eveline and the old country."] He sprang up and fairly danced through the little low room. Then a sudden strange paralysis overpowered him, and Bitting down on the edge of his rude bedstead he hid his face in his hands. For some momentß he could not think. Hopes, fears, and doubts surged over his mind, as the waves surge over a stranded vessel ; up and down, now threatening to overwhelm it, and anon sinking far beneath and dying away in soft murmurs. It was an hour of mental warfare, of bitter trial and temptation. Such hours come to all of ua, and even the conqueror rarely escapes unscarred. Although Maurice Stretton was no business man and could not even then see the why and the wherefore of their action, he could not doubt that Ellis and his copartners had sent him to Wai-wai with some ulterior design, other than appeared on the surface. There was something wrong about the mine, of that he was ' sure, and the thousand pounds was a bribe to hold his tongue, or perhaps to give some evidence in its favour, for he could not expect that the business would be settled without some official inspection of the property to be sold. A conspiracy was on foot, and he was to be bribed. Nay, to a certain extent he had already accepted the bribe and committed himself as one of the conspirators,

Eveline and home ; the thought were sweet indeed, but could he weloome them at the price of dishonour ? No ; it was impossible. Even as he sat there he could see Eveline's pure fair face turn from him at the mere suggestion. Of quite another type than she, were the women who could say in the words of the old song : " I kaow not, I care not, what gailt's in the heart, 1 know that I love thee whatever t&ou art." Maggie Macintosh, perhaps, she would not be too particular. And then he chid himself for thinking of the girl at such a moment. And yet he could not forget how she had looked the night before when she uttered the warning. " JVly father will kill you." Could he be silent ? that was the question 1 and Eveline need never know. Thus half unconsciously he made her a kind of external conscience, and carried his actions to the bar of that tribunal. And all the time, even when he seemed to hesitate, he knew that he could not do it. Honour, which Ellis deemed " a bogie to frighten children," imposed a barrier strong as adamant, which he could not break down or over-leap. He knew that he could not be silent, though the bribe had been ten-fold greater. Weak, foolish, vacillating, he might be and was ; but he could not do this thing. There is always some point on which the weak are strong, as there is an unprotected spot in the most invulnerable armour. He could not do it. Perhaps he would if he could, perhaps he wished to yield ; if it had not been so, the temptation would have been slight ; but such distinctions are over sensible. He did not yield, and the immediate effect of Ellis's letter was the very opposite to that which he had hoped for. Maurice became more than ever determined to explore the mine, and discover why he had been sent to this place, where evidently the only things required of him, were to shut his eyes and hold hiß tongue. It was useless to request Macintosh to show him over the workings, he had already done that and been baffled by one excuse after the other. It would not do to apply for information to any of the miners, for with them he had never held much intercourse, and he oould not tell how far they might be in the counsels of the overseer, or afraid to act in opposition to him. . One course only remained open. He must enter the mine alone, and explore its inmost recesseß. This plan was full of diniculty, perhaps of danger, but it was the only one that seemed to offer any chance of success, and the spice of adven turous excitement was not without its charms in the eyes of the young immigrant. "Life here is altogether too slow," he Baid to himself, "one wants some change to wake one up." So he resoived to bide his time, and when Macintosh was likely to be absent from the mine for a few hours, to enter at once and trust to fate for the manner in which he should pursue his researches. He paid no attention to the threat repeated to him by Maggie, partly because he believed it impossible of fulfillment, and partly because in his daring young courage he felt more than a match for Macintosh and one or two of his miners to boot. But he was fully determined that when once the mystery was solved, he would leave Wai-wai and seek Borne other employment. Perhaps there might be nothing to discover, the mystery and wrong doing might exist only in his own imagination ; even so, Wai-wai was no place^for him, he was doing no good there, and only wasting his life in vexatious idleness. But the thousand so palpably offered as a bribe was in itself proof enough that something was wrong. " I will find it out," he thought. "If I can, with honour, hold my tongue I will do so, for I think Ellis meant to do well by me, and so I would fain be silent though I cannot take his money ; but if I must speak I must. Under any circumBtahces I shall not stay at Wai-wai." But — man proposes, God disposes. Maurice Stretton's stay at Wai-wai was destined to be of much longer duration than he intended, but the immediate outcome of his resolution and of the uncertainty concerning his future plans, was that he did not write home by that mail, but put aside his unfinished letters, hoping to have some positive news to communicate before another month was past. So another link in the chain was broken. CHAPTER XIII. " Dead men tell no taleß." "The lugger is expected off shore tonight, and father is going to spend the evening with Captain Jack." It was Maggie who spoke as she cleared away the modest remains of Maurice Stretton's mid-day meal, lingering longer in her task than was at all needful, arranging and re-arranging the thread-bare table cover and shabby chairs. Day after day her love for Maurice grew and strengthened, feeding on the tiniest crumbs of kindness and encouragement. And he, who should have given her no reed to lean on, who was pledged heart and soul to another woman, could not deny himself the pleasure of winning her good will by a few pretty speeches and gallant actions. Of love, between him and her, he never thought, but he wished her to like him, as he wished to be liked by all, whether

men or women, with whom he came in contact, and his vanity and love of appro* bation were as fatal to the girl's' peace as would have been the deep laid schemes ©f an accomplished seducer. Untutored and .ignorant as a savage, Maggie loved him with an unbridled passion that could bring nothing but ruin in its train. - • Accustomed to hard work, hard living, and all the sordid details of a common life, such as many of our Colonists lead, whose means would well entitle them to greater ease and comfort and to a share in the refinements and harmonies of life, this young girl had hitherto known nothing of the enjoyment of existence' ; hard work and hard words had been her portion ; surrounded by natural • beauty she had no eye to see it. The great rollers of the mighty Pacific had for her no voice and no meaning ; the gorgeous tints of the sunset, the rich, tangle of the busH, the BUggestive calm of a summer eve, were as nothing to her, she could not see them, nor hear the music which under-lay the songs of the birds, or the restless sough of the ever-changing wind. ' ' Surely the love of nature is not a mere instinct, but is the result of careful culture in our own or past generations; Certainly it is rarely found among savages, and Maggie Macintosh was as ignorant of it, as is the veried London-bred arab who has never looked beyond the chimneytops into the blue sky above. ' ' . Such ignorance is seldom accompanied by content. ■■ • ' Maggie hated her life and thirsted 1 for ease and pleasure. < To her Maurice Stretton was a ! reVela« tion. She was not indifferent to hia great physical beauty, or to his gentle manners and winning ways. The very tones of' hia soft voice spoke in a different language to that of the harsh gutturals to which she was accustomed. • •■ <■ Were all ladies and gentlemen like Kirn ? She wondered if so, how pleasant it would be to live always among them. And before she learned to love him she wished that he would marry her and make her a lady, end take her to an easy pleaBant life, in all respects different to the one that she was leading. So from the \ first she drew towards him and courted her fate. It was her duty to keep his room neat, and to wait upon him, and by degrees, as she found that he did not care to join the noisy family party, she acquired the habit of carrying his meals to him, so that he might take them in peace, if not in comfort, and he repaid 'her'attention by dangerously Bweet words of gratitude and approval. v ' ' It was treacherous ground on whioh these two ventured bo boldly. ; " The lugger is expected off shdre tonight, and father is going to spend .the evening with Captain Jack, "said Maggie, Maurice was reading a paper and, did not appear to heed. , ' If she had expected him to offer to take her out during her father's absence, phe was disappointed, for he made no such suggestion, indeed it never entered into his head, which was occupied with far different thoughts. ' - "J" J - Still Maggie lingered, and looking out of the tiny window, suddenly exclaimed. " Ah, there she is. I can see her coming round the point. Look, Mr Stretton." tf What am I to look at, Maggie ?" he answered lazily, lifting his eyes to her face. "Ah, the Pretty Jane, to be sure, can't you see her V " 1 can see the pretty Maggie," he> answered, "and that will do as well, or better." , She smiled and coloured. ' • Am I really pretty ?" , ' "Of course you are, you conceited little thing; but I must not wasted my time telling you, as I have lots of work- to do." Still she lingered. "It will be a beautiful evening^" she said. He understood the hint, but pretended not to do so. '* Yes, perhaps it will, but I shall not be able to go out. By-the-by, Maggie, don't bring me any supper, I am tired and out of sorts ; I think I shall go to bed early." She drew a step nearer. ' "You are ill." "No ; only lazy and out of sorts. Ton must be off, Maggie, I hear someone call you." With an impatient exclamation, she ran out and left him. He went to the door and secured it, Then he took up hia station at the window and watched. He saw the lugger come to anchor at the accustomed spot, a boat put off from her side and approached the usual landing place ; he counted five men in her, four rowing and one steering ; he lost sight of her for a few seconds as she entered the little cove, when he saw her again she was returning to the ship, the four oars were still moving, but, two figures sat in the stern ; he took his glass and saw that one of them was Sandy Macintosh. Then he looked at his watch, it was half-pasfc four ; at five the men would leave their work at the mine, and he wished to be there as soon after that aa possible. He went to his box and took out a packet of candles, a box of matches, a compass, and a small flask of brandy. He put on the oldest suit he possessed and slipped these things into the pockets. He was not afraid to burn a bare candle, though he knew of the existence and uses of the Davy lamp. For at that time the opinion— whioh has since been so cruelly

t falsified— that fire-damp was unknown in •the; Southern Hemisphere, was univer- . .Bally held by miners, both practical and j '; scientific ; and the fatal catastrophe at Kaitangata was needed to show us, that i as much- care is required here as in the .'miijeaof'the old country... But Maurice Stretton knew not tbat he courted danger, and waa prepared to do as others did. , These few preparations made, and then ! looking at his watch, he saw -that it was barely five o'clock. In another quarter ,of an hour the men would be busy preparing their supper. He took up his paper,and, waited. ,/,*l>r*eciaely at a quarter past five he Opened, his door, secured it on the outside \ta& dropped the key into his pocket. J.He.was fairly, embarked on his adven- ,, Fpllowing a circuitous path, to the mouth ' ofVthe.mine, he reached it without passing ' fche^hufcs of the men and without meeting 'any one. And here hist adventure waa ,' nearly brought to an end ere it had well ■x commenced ; for the men had not all left had lingered behind to collect f tools, and pufcthings.tidy., - < Maurice had come upon him suddenly at,th#iyery entrance of the mine. '/The. new-comer was blinded by the darkless and/was about .to light, his candle, 'wKile^ttie" miner .had just' extinguished his and could see .well in the dim light, ; v^"As'f have said, already the Wai-wai mine ' had" no shaft, except those' for ventilation, rbut only an, inclined .tramway leading iiown into the heart of the hiU. - „ .The.maniaacending.thejtuamway saw the" figure of the other -clearly, defined against the .opening. • . > • ' , „ i !.Mj!'Stratibonj";:he said, in astonished tones, • i .» ,>> i■) > ' • • ■ M^ho^st&re,?", eried -Maurice. ' ' cl 'jtt"xJ». 'T, „F,itzpatrick," answered: the 'other!- tie lighting his candle, as he spoke and' holding it before his face. „" Are you. going .into, the ,raine, sir 1 Let me go with ". Maurice, f ,hqiitaW * or - a. moment; he, 'fcnew.,^'he, t , man's face,, and had often ''tjiought. .him r the, most pleasant- looking ' of ithe miners ,j>ut a love of strong waters dislike to steady work, had s * »ot earned for the Irishman a good name .among the. steady Scotch, who were just : as willing to work as they were to drink, gpd whps,e .well-seasoned, frames seldom 'betrayed that they had:' taken, .a litble too mucn. J This and the race prejudice which developed here than in ''thV'Jwnie. country, nVade the Irishman V»ojnewha> alone, among, his comrades. He }jncl jio'special companion or mate, and Maurice h,ad. vaguely wondered what had b'rougnt him to Waiiwai, and why he remained there., , . . , • '„ ' "'The Wo men faced each other with the; thin flickering flame of the candle between 'them!',','.! ,>■ .( . > ; . f1 " a 'The Irishman stood -the scrutiny well, 'huTglance^ never wavered or fell, " '♦'You may'trust me, sir," > he said. t I believe I may,',' answered Maurice, "andtn'e two. turned and walked; on side t>y>i<£e. <'. . . ; 'They, said very little. Fitjspatnck, act' 1 'ikg.as quide }[ answered Maurice's questions, and'sometimes made a remark connected with the ventilation or working of ' theiniue. • > ''T&py,' walked slowly. Maurice heldthe^ Icompassinthe pajm of hisieft hand. When 1 heVentered/the mine the direction taken 'was almost due w.es't ; . but after, a timethej gallery tended more to the north. There were workings to the right and the left, the 'path followed was the main gallery- of the mine ; most of the others ending" in '„?' faults,". as Fitzpatrick explained, and as Maurice found to be true when he now and again insisted on fol- ■ lowing them. " ; • , They always returned, to the main galleryy in this manner much time was lost, and. the hours passed more swiftly than 'Maurice was aware of. Suddenly the gallery turned abruptly to the right, and Maurice saw that its 1 direction was almost due north. ,He stopped suddenly and faced his companion. ' Fitzpatrick answered the unspoken question/ , - '"'There is a 'fault', here," he said, tf'and'we thought the seam had given out 'altogether; we tried up and down and right and left, and the.n we found this seam, better and thicker than anything we have met yet ; we have been working it .the last two months." ' " Maurice went to the end of the wording, saw the Bpot where the men had been 'erca'va'tihg that' day, marked the richness and depth of the, seam and its direction , due north, and then turning to his companion said :!l: !l , ■ " I understand it all now, we .will go back as ; quickly an you like." ' f v Mtzpatrick. gave a' nod,arid r an unmis"takeable wink. •* '?• Ah, sir, 1 I've wondered how they could keep, the : secret bo long. But some of, the j men" did not' know, and some, did not ' cajre, and, 'others were well paid to 'hbld;; their tongues: but when you' clime 1 and I saw what like ; you were, I thought their'game would soon be up. I did'not^think Mac could keep you out of the mine so long. Be gorra, what would canny,'&uld Scot say . if he saw us f i[bw?"^' !! :< V'l'nat'dea'djm'en tell no tales," anivered a third voice from the darkness. And -in a moment two well directed blows had laid Maurice and his companion senseless among the black schist and debris of the mine. j (To be Continued.— Commenced in No. 1424 ) ■ ' 'IJever be discouraged by triflea. If a spider '.breads his thread twenty times he will mend it fjid m6iiy*J Perseverance and patience "will ao'- j '#»plwhwondoW ' ;■:■•■