Little Pearl.

Otago Witness, Issue 1462, 22 November 1879, Page 22

Little Pearl.

'By I JBNNy Wkbk.

«f riled wins ! ',', , , '. It was the, croupiers hoarse cry, again and again' reiterated, only- diversified with that of; '^RedjJQBCB S",whio,li broke the stillness itt the' superbly- appointed froom at Horn-, burg,' wiilih' 'the r gaming-table in its' centre, round wh!oh''we're "gathered its eager votariesi'b'ehind Whom 'were'thS Hcar6ely less interested group of lookers-on. ' . ''■'.Oom^.'awayV my r dear,"' said a very lovely 'woman among, the spectators, in a low. whisper, ,tD her husbjmd. , "I am aorry, thatwe.^me. This, is no place, for Pearl,", Indioatingjwith a, nod of her head, as she spoke, an exquisitely beautiful girl, scaroely more than,a child,, of, Borne twelve or thirteen Buinrnerß, who 1 stood beside them! ' ' '' "*!6onie, PVari;^' fee "father said. . -' 1 But ' 'ih6 ': gu-1' ■' stpdd ' entranced j her . eyes fixed upon a'mah^sface seated at the farthest end of the table. It was a strikisgly handBorne- f ade, even? when weariag,- as it how did;' anfexpression oh balm born of desperatlon.',/No tinge of' colour /was in either cheek or lips. ' . v,'< His eyes shone with a straogo and hard glitter, and w,ere fixed upon the balls, .as j they sprung, round, jas : though on, the colour upgermost hung 'his hops of life or death. ' Aiid JI BS I| it' f yaß ! 'He' had 'sat' down pos■essed'bf a f ortu&e } ' he' 'rose' a' beggar. Fate had 1 WeaeßhP pursued 'hlm^'with -its mocking hop 1 etessne«r,' f until ( he''had placed his last stake, only to see it mercilessly swept from him;? I'-iii- 'i •>'_ . ", i , •'• ~ l r , •

him;? !<-n;- H ■>•_ . ", i , •-• ■ ; t , • .He half ! rose from .the table. What more was tolbajdone, jsavo .to, go! -put somewhere into,! the-, still night (air and v send, a; bullet thrqugi^his heart or brain ? ■ •. ■ . f l£*was.| 'ait.jihJß., momentj^the girL. with flushed cheet and half-parted lips, darted to his side. " Take . this," she pleaded, « for , l my sake'l" ' to'WMtfcC'' a !( !goia Apiece 1 into his Col^Handi' ! ' fJ "ii« { v1,.-i ,yr ". • He 'turtied; 1 JT6 'hi* excited- imagination ahe seemed' sWbely ' mortal, in her pure; chil'dlikaildvelinessji His first, impulse was to,|;rejftrn,rheif offering— he wfas not yet an almßjt»ike.r,j i; btts again, wig out ,the.crpu>< piw,>, ! pry l o{i£qmmfftd J to place .the^takes.j,^, .T^e./Jh^W b&P^.iPA?**^? 8 ' W. t^er, .eager expectancy, her eyes burning with feverish! uitereivi „ \ * > R' tfuclclen' impulse^ o overmastered him, W. ithotitf sWft&ing °a word c He placed' the gold u&tftKe'&e^ ~"": J ' J lt "- 17 ' !«•".,'■-■ The next minute a small pile of gold -was' H »t his l:> Heßtaked'it all again; Again he'won/' i'A. (bright 'spot'of - sttarlet replaced] thefpallorfinvhls cheeky -which spread arid; deepened as Bame Fortune, who jso persist:; eatiyjhadfrQWflcid.ppoft him, now .reserved, ' for him only her smiles. " „ i r . - •»«• • • i i « t i__ _~ t :

tor aim ouiy mtr uuiueo. ' „ jr, - Mpr»ingjW ( as,b i re^kuig,wlien l he rose, from tne'taqle, no 'longer a man, but^ with"his ; f or iunje. threefold returned to' him. 'Aftel'Ms first' winning .he,' had turned' to return to the o chiTd'lier offering, but Bhe had, vanished. Should he ever find her, ever repay the'debt ?" He knew' not ; ibutj'standing at I'lust'outr^nitder^he'cl'ear'folu1 ' lust ' out r^nitder^he'cl'ear' folue ■ sky, ' withf/a weight lifted from heart and; brain', Harold [Clayton vowedi that it should be,his.life.B&rch, butthat : the lesson taught hyn] should v never,, r be forgotten, and the ganiu^g 7 tableßjßb,o.uld; know him never more. Six years .passed, and Harold Clayton ,was. Winning fiaine and fame in , his own land, in Standing one night in a crowded assembly, some one in passing touched him lightly on fch'e' arm' 1 with her fan, and, glancing round, he 1 itietthe' smiling face of his hostess. ♦''OemeJj'-'she aaidj "I want to present you to iny' belle. 1 If' you'tcan, prevail upon her to' give you a sitting;, and transfer her colouring to canvas, you will render yourself immortal." l .;,•-•. "Is she, 'then, so beautiful?" he questioned. ,- i ; ' „';, „ - "' Judge for yourself," she lightly rejoined, leading him, ; to r a* little group doing homage to the'f air girl in' its centre. ', " Misß Rayburn— Mr Clayton," were the formal words' of- 1 the introduction, as Harold ■ bhwed in 'acknowledgment before the woman whom,, his artistic eye confessed the most beautiful that in all his wanderings he had ©ver-met,-, , .; ■ „ , ,

' Before the evening was ended he might - have added, f the : only two.man wtiom , he . had ever loved.' since, she,- had 'awakened 'in him an! interest as','new as it 'w&k strange. " ' .Through' tWhext"woek herfaqe Haunted him." Then; 'they met : again, *rid ! the charm, grew and deepened. He could not define it --he 'scarcely acknowledged it to himself ; onlyiaway from .'Miss Rayburn he was resfclesa and .kneaßy; until .. he again found him* Belf within the scope of her fascinations. •,;Yet ( ,her nature .remained an. enigma to him. „ .Although bo young ' in years, so beautiful in form,' and feature, she seemed cold eVen"to haughtiness, reticent almost to scorn. * ' ■ ' • I ' ' ■ It was as though some exquisite marble statue had risen in his pathway, which might som.e day warm into life;. , i . She welcomed' him whenever they met with a manner, which, while it gave him no cause for complaint, yet chilled the hope springing within r his breast. , One day, on going io her home, the servant inefc him at tKe door with the announcement that she was very ill.' This knowledge brought' other knowledge — the fact that he could no longer conceal from ' himself— that he loved' her, and that on his hope of winning her hung his life's happiness. -•He went back to his studio, wretched and despairing, and seated himself at his easel. He had not meant to paint her face — his brain seemed unconscious of his fingers' toil — yet, when the~ morning broke, it was her features smiling upon him from the canvas, and he remembered the words his hostess had' uttered on the night he first had met her— that thus should he render himself immortal. < He grew pale and wan in the days of anxious suspense, -when those who watched over her couch did not know which would •onxguer, the angel of life or death. But

there came an hour, never to be forgotten, when he. war admitted into her presence. ■ She was very white,' very fragile, but, more beautiful than in the colouring of perfect health. Anew expression, too, was in the violet eyes raised to welcome him. 11 1' am very glad to meet you again," she said, gently. "I hear you have been anxioua about me. You vere very kind." ! Then the words he had not' meant to speak bnrst from: his lips. " ' . ' > ".Anxious?" ;he said. "Can. a man, Mis* Rayburn, perishing of hunger, hear of the famine without ,a shudder? I. am presumptuous, you will say. It is true.. What is my life, with its many-sealed pages in Which your eye could never look, that, l should dare offer it to ' you ? ' 'And yet, purified by your love, I would' try to make it worthy/. Tell 1 me— answer me !•' If I serve as Jacob served for Rachel, is there hope that I may win you? 1 My darling ! my darling ! I love you ! I cannot live my life without you? Will you not Bhare it ?" ; Lower and lower drooped the lids, until the long, dark lashes swept the marble cheek, the sweet mouth trembled ; but the momentary weakness passed as she spoke :, ,„,",', ', " Forget' all that you "have said, ' Mr Clayton.' It can never be." ' '' i " You do not love' me?" he questioned, sadly. .• • '* Again that swift expression of pain' flitted across the lovely face. • . ■ " I shall never' marry," she answered ; "but," and In her voioe crept' an almost pleading tone, "I need my friead very much, <Mr Clayton. Do not desert me ! " [ " I^cannpt," he replied. "To desert you w6uld be to deaert the hope of one day forcing; you to unsay your :> cruel words.— the hope which. will go with me to my grave.", ', '' !( , ' •; ■ What was the' Barrier' between them ? This 1 was' the question 1 ever ringing 'in Harold Clayton's ear. As she' had looked when she pronounced his doom, >ao' he had ■ fancied i she i might have looked , when ' the statue warmed into life. ■ , , ; Since, then she had been colder, more dis-' tant, than before ; but he had caught the momentary expression, and transferred it to the picture on which 'his every leisure moment was spent. - > . ' He was thus engrossed' one morning, ever striving to add new beauty to his almost perfeot work, when a low knook at the door aroused him. ' "Come in!'' he called, then bent anew to his task; without so' muoh as raising his head, until a low, laughing voice sounded close beside him. . >„■>■,■■■■■: I ■;" We. were 'caught in the, shower, Mr play ton, and I persuaded, Margaret to seek., shelter with me .here. I did , not dream she would. find, herself forestalled." • It w»b MrsSomera who, spoke — the lady who had first presented' him' to' Mlsb Hay* burn' — whose'instructions 'he had,' unknown to' her, carried out. 1 l ' I " Margaret," she added, turning to her friend/*" y'bu haye 1 been sitting for your por« trait, and 'did not let me know. Why have you kept it such a secret ? " „ < • j He had now sprung to, his feet in time to bee the rosy tide spread over Margaret Ray? purn's face.' t . ', ,< . i , '.' It was a' liberty I took without Miss Rayburn's knowledge, Mrs Somers," he explained.' "l assure you T have never been so fortunate as to secure a sitting." ■ ' < " Well, you shall f Have one 1 now.. and you inuVt thank me for it," she ' rejoined, while JMargaret turned 'away to" examine the sketches and studies lying about in profuse confusion. " ' ,•' > ".Here are' some sketches taken while I was studying abroad, Miss .Rayburn," said Harold. ■ "Will you, amuse yourself by locking at them ? " i V I will return in , a few moments," interrupted Mrs Somers. " Wait for me, my dear." ' . ' ' ' , , . ! A word of expostulation rose to Mar. garet's lips, but too' late. •' The door had closed behind the speaker. ' ! Silence fell between the' two thus left behind, when a low cry arrested Harold's 'attention. He Bprang to Miss Rayburn's side. Her eyea were, fixed upon alittle sketch she held in her ,hand. ■It represented > a gaming-table, at one end of which sat a man, -haggard, desperate, despairing, and by him a child, holding out to him a single gold piece, with a smile in her eyes, and seemingly a prayer- on her lips. " You would know the history of that picture ? " he s«d. " Let me tell you. Years ago I was in Homburg. The gamingtables attracted me, and every night found ,me beside them, losing or winning, according to the forbune of the hour. One 'evening'the demon ill-luck pursued , me. , I lost , and lost, until I found my all was slipping from 'me, In the vain hope of, retrieving it I went on, until' I knew that I was beggared. 'Maddened,, desperate, I determined to, put an end to my miserable life, when some' one, touched my shoulder ; a child-angel ..stood before me', and slipped into mv hand a piece 'of' gold. • For my sake ! " she' whispered. The croupier's . hoarse call warned me no time was to be lost.- ■ I staked, the gold and .won ; but turning to give. her back her own she had fled., When I roße from the table Xhad recovered all and more, but I vowed a vow to my unknown deliverer that I, would never again -hazard a dollar of the fortune I considered hers. I have never found her, Margaret. The child will never know her work, but I am- not afraid to meet her, for I have kept mv pledge." " Harold ! "—it was almost a whisper, but something in the tone made his heart give a wild, joyous leap — "have I found you all this time, and have you just found nee out? It was this, Harold, which separated us. I dared not give my life to a man whom I had first known as a gambler. I supposed you still played, and I thought that to see again the expression on your face I had seen that night- would kill me. Tell me, is it true ? Have y6u never touched a card Bince ? " " Never !" he answered, solemnly. "And it is to you I owe it — it and life. Pearl — little Pearl, can you not trust the man who has been so long faithful to the child to be skill faithful to the woman ? My own, you will not doom the life that you have saved ? " „But at ,thia juncture Mrs Somers, open« ing the door, beats a precipitate' retreat.

Harold's statue has warmed into life, and, pressing the lovely lips to his, he thanks God that it is his breath which has awakened it.