Untitled

Otago Witness, Issue 1581, 4 March 1882, Page 25

Victor or Victim.

: By John Saundebs.

Author of "Abel Drake's Wife," "Hire"" "Isreal Morb, Overman," •[ The Two' Dreamers, &c.,«c.

Ohaptbb XXV. Jacob's Folly Shown In New Light. UOH was the title bestowed on Mr'Kinder's new estate 'in the clouds' by, the 1 popular voice, when they first heard of his be. coming a landed proprietor; and mapy were the horse laughs and I 'sly satirical jestß at hiß expense among his neighbours. And the personal ; greetings he met with ; i were ia the same vein, though, of course, more veiled. •Not much silver in your ore, I imagine?' one man would say. , And Kinder would smilingly say : 'If I get the ore I'll, excuse the silver 1 don't expect my lead to be firßt-rate.' * How stands your lead in the market today?''would be added by another equally kind and . inquisitive querist as to Jacobs °Tll tell you when it geta there,' responded Jacob, with invincible good humour. Theimp'ression was therefore universal that Jacob's speoulatipn waß entirely founded on the idea that there must be plenty of ore left in those old mineß to pay him. And he certainly did much to justify that impression. For his first operation was to clear out the beams and superincumbent rub* bish with which the mouths of the two shafts had been closed for safety when they were abandoned more than half a century ago. Whan that was done, he had boring apparatus and tools for digging brought up, and long ladders for descent put in place, and then Bet to work with his mining staff of two men. But as these were sot lucky enough to find ore during the first fortnight, he curtly dismissed them, saying : 1 1 thought it was worth trying, but I now see it's no use, and bo there's an end.' Of course they spread the news rapidly of Jacob's collapse as a mine-owner. But Jacob's resources were great in times of difficulty. He went to a neighbouring floriht and nurseryman, who was, he had been told, 'hard up for tin,' and who, he knew, had a capital collection of all the best trees for grow, ing in that locality. 'He 1 wanted; he said, to tarn his, hilly land to some account, and the only thing he could think' of was to plant it with trees—fruit trees, and ornamental trees, and trees for sheltering choice things. But he was poor, and could only give a low price ; and then he offered one bo low that, under ordinary circumstances, it is to ' be feared Jacob would .again have had to taste the in gjptitude of , men by a repetition of the sad trad disgraceful treatment inflicted on him by Anthony. But as ' with Shakespeare's apothecary, « > with the florist-r-his poverty, not his will, con Hfluted ; but that was quite sufficient for Jacob. , Then Jacob got two or three. good and cheap working gardeners, who were out of employ ; and they dug, and planted, and staked, and watered, till Jacob's eyes began to gladden with the sight of the thin wavy foliage, acd the great improvement he had made on the hill in tue way of the picturesque. It was in iself a pretty piece of ground, undulating, and *>ith wild flowers, and wailing only the crown of treeß that Jacob gave. The tup, where be planted the choicest of his trees, was a kind of deep, irregular basin, through no doubt the sinking of the ground in old times by the continual scooping oi.t bolow in minings. But there were natural npeuingrf h (r o *°d there in the edge of 11, a basin, whiuh nMowd. the heavy rainH, ihhf, 1 1 frequent at C3rtain seasons, to drain >vwt.y i>av-. !>„. they fAX Tuia aid nos suit tbo aew owner. He ap.id to the gardeners :

' shall fill up those openings, and make a complete enclosure, then my trees will get plenty of water. We have lots of rubbish from the shaft. So get to work.' 'But, 1 observed one of the p gardenera, ' mayn't you get too much water, if none can get away ? ' ' My good fellow, any amount of it there is to spare will go down the shafts into the old mineß— d n them !— which are now useless, and so I shan't mind.' By this time popular feeling was veering round. Old agriculturists and planters began to count up what Jacob might get per acre for his tress, apart from those the florist would deal with— first from the loppings, then from the thinning out of the smaller trees to leave room for the larger, then for the bark, and last for the big well-grown trees when ready for the axe ; and the totals were so satisfactory that on the whole Jacob's folly was now understood to be Jacob's cunning, Jacob's sense, or Jacob's far-sighted wisdom. 'Aye, if he can only live half a century longer to count his gains/ growled one dissonant voice, amid exclamations' of :

•Hear! Hear! Hear!'

'Certainly he takes pains,' said another voice, ' for I am told that, not content with seeing how things grow by day, he goes often up with a lantern to see their progress by night.' Amid the general laugh at this, the growler before mentioned remarked : •That's only our neighbour's melancholy fun. He can't mean to Bay that Jacob does really go up th«re of a night with a lantern 7 'But I do mean it. So-and-so (naming names) told me they have seen him several times doing that, and they concluded he was down upon his luck concerning the mines, and couldn't sleep for thinking what a fool he was, and so haunted the place at such untimely hours,' Of course Anthony heard much of this goßsip, and could not resist at first a certain amount of malicious enjoyment of Kinder's folly and stupendous conceit. But as the matter did not concern him he soon ceased to think of it, for his gradual reconciliation with Mabel was engrossing him ; and presently they went to London, as Mabel has shown in her letters, to be abruptly called home by the foreman's telegram. The moment he reaohed Lipstone he hurried to the mine, where he found the foreman anxiously waiting his arrival. ' Well, what's the matter ? ' he asked. ' We're getting a deal of water just now.' ' Yes, the rains have been heavy of late.' ' Aye j but-, rain or no rain, the pumps, which three months ago had little to do even in wet weather, are now pretty well always going, and yet don't keep it so low as I should like'

''Can yon tell where it gains entrance chiefly ?' • Well, I'm pretty sure it is through one of the higher of those worked-out levels, f ' What ! where it touches the ground of the old mine V said Anthony, in surprise. •Yes.' ' Have yon noticed any peculiarities about the flow, of the water?' i ' WeU, it seems to come strongest at nights and on Sundays, and particularly on those days when we , clean the engine and pumps, and so get a little behind.' ' A most intelligent water, certainly? What can be its motive? Not liking us, perhapß it does its best to put us to trouble and expense. T?h?' ' Well, it's an awkward subject to speak of ; but you remember, master, that very old, maa who worked with us, and used to say he had worked in the abandoned mines above here nigh fifty years ago, and was one of the last to see it played out?' ' I remember him quite well. ' I met him the other day. He's worn out now, and on the parish ; but he told me Mr Jacob had kindly given him a job to dig, about his trees, and that whilst there they talked about the old mines, and Jacob asked him if he would like to go, down and see the old place again. He could take him down quite easily, for there were ladders. Well, the poor old man thought it would be easier anyhow than digging, and please Jacob besides. So they went down, and Jacob went here and there, asking him no, end of questions, till he got quite dazed ; and Jacob, he said, had Bummat in his hand— a roll of paper, which he looked at from time to time.' I A map, perhaps,' suggested Anthony, now thoroughly roused, and only too deeply interested. ' So I said, but he didn't know.' ' Did the man seem suspicious of anything in Einder's behaviour ?' I 1 cannot say positively that he did. But he seemed timid, and inclined to say nothing more.' „ . 4 Find him if you can to-night, and bring him to the house. I should like now to go to that level. Lead the way.' They reached and went through the level till stoppod at its farther end. ' Did it not extend beyond this ? ' ' I am told by men in the mine that it went several yards further, but had to be blocked up, some time after work ceased there, to keep out the water.'

• See, men, how wrong it would be to buspect anybody, much less Mr Kinder. Here we have proof that the influx of water is only a normal state of things that has been prevented once, and must be prevented again. We must dam and ram harder than ever, and all will be right again.' ' Hold your lanterns close. I want to see the state of the intervening soil.' He looked, and looked, and each time more seriously. He pat his stick into the earth wall, and was horrified to find bow easily it penetrated. Ho went down on his knees and saw that portiops of it were being actually washed away with the water as it oozed from thab

' There is not an instant to be lost Fetch a score of men with baskets of earth, and Bee that tbey do it on the run. The carpenter is at work on No. 4 level. Send him instantly with such rough timber as he can readily get at to drive in against the bottom of the (vull temporarily, and to make a support for the contents of the baskets to be heaped against it. The foreman hurried away, and left Anthony on the watch, thinking to himself what the state of things would be if, as he supposed, there were some vast accumulation of water behind this frail barrier, and if it should chance this particular moment to break in and sweep him to destruction, while flooding the mne ! ' If the last happens, perhaps, it would be as well that the first should happen, too,' he sardonically remarked to_ himself— adding, moreover, a somewhat forcibly expressed wish that the men sent for would come. They did come, and acted so speedily and energetically that in the course of an hour or so Anthony said to his men : ' I think that'll keep the enemy out for a bit, and givo us breathing time to take measure of his capacity md inclination to attack

us.' The lintenor.l though* tbe raster expose. Wnißfc.S oddly, jnat aa if thinking tho enemy waa a man, or perhaps the Evil One ; but no

doubt it was all right, and they dispersed to their ordinary occupations. When all were gone but the foreman, Anthony said to him : ' I suppose you heard when you came here, through Kinder's leaving, how he left ? ' 'Oh, yea,' Baid the foreman, with a rich smile over his broad face ; ' but I had heard before. The tale went far and wide.' ' Would you think it possible that such a man, in view of our position with regard to the mines above us, would plan an elaborate scheme for their purchase and use, take time for its accomplishment, involving expense and loss all the while, and leave us to discover at our leisure what the scheme was 1 ' ' Hardly, master, unless, indeed, he has thought to swamp us here, and so in some roundabout way himself hereafter get in, and make the place his own.' ' But suppose he did think to swamp ns, as you say. Thought is free, and we couldn t complain of that. Ah, I see you meant more, and that somehow his thought might haply find shape through a pair of hands.' • It's a ticklish subject.' • Very, but we must get to the bottom of it. If I can find a way, may I trust to your help, even through some little chance of danger ? ' Certainly, master.' ' And your absolute silence as to what I nave said, and am going to say ? ' ' I'm not a big talker at the beet of times, so that'll be eaay.' •Can you select me four or nve quiet, thoughtful, but determined fellows to accompany us out of our large company ? ' The foreman began to reokcjn on his fingers, and soon reached the five, though a little uncertain'as to the fifth, as his wife was expecting her confinement. • Prepare them for to-night, but breathe not a word that can in the most distant way set them thinking of what I am about to do. I will wait about above ground till you tell me all is settled. You need only say, as the men will be about, " That's done, master." '

The watchword was soon given, and Anthony hurried home, took horse and rode away, not stopping even to speak to Mabel, who called to him.

Chapter XXVI. The Crack of Doom.

Anthony was a long time gone, and when he returned, instead of going to Mabel, who waved her hand to him from the window, he went to speak to the old man whom the foreman had brought, and then at last went to his wife, appearing bo much at ease and altogether so comfortable that Mabel, who had become exceedingly anxious through the telegram, and through her husband's hurried movements since their return, now thought she mußt be {mistaken, about Anthony's being in any kind of tremble. ! Never had he been so cheerful as at their late dinner to-day, rarely said so many pleasant things to his wife, whose rising colour was ac if the old love making days were coming strongly back, and whose heart was almost too full of happiness for its own safety. I But .when the deceiver had done his work and allayed all danger of his wife's suspicions, qe began to speak in a tone of indifference of spending some hours at the mine to-night, on account of the water, and told her not to wait dp. for him— that he would let himself in. Thenher fear came back. -]• . I Mabel's quick eyes had noticed certain little, preparations that he made, from time to time during the dinner and the talk after, which she could net understand, and would have thought no more of but for his statement about his absence in the night. \ '■ ' I shall wait up,' she said. } He persisted she should not, and she persisted she would. ' s Suddenly he was called away by the foreman to the outside of the house, where he found the men' all waiting, ready. He addressed them in a low voice, standing on the lawn, in the darkness of a night so complete that they could not distinguish one another, nor Bee anything a few yards off. i These were his words : ' In the interests of the mine I have Bomething to do to-night for which I ,want your loyal aid. We will start presently. Mind, you must keep the most absolute silence from the moment we move. Have nothing about you that can jingle. Be ready at a moment's notice to light your lanterns, but not till I give the word. For all else be guided by what you see me do. Meantime Mabel had gently opened the window, and was much struck by the barely discoverable group of dark forms, and the sound 'of Anthony's low voice speaking to j them.

When he returned, looking again as placidly as before, Mabel said to him : ' Anthony, where are you going ? ' She Bpoke so slowly and so significantly that Anthony felt she had found him out ; so he laughed, and replied : • You shall know all about it when I come back.' • I would prefer to know now. 'Then I can't tell you now. Good-bye. Wait up, if you like.' But she was not to be so put off ; and as the delay was embarrassing, he said at last to her, quite gaily : ' If I tell you, will you promise to ask no further questions, and not to interfere in any way with my going ; for lam now late, and have no time for chatter ? ' ' The affair, then, is important ? ' 1 1 hope so, and for good.' ' With no possibilities pf evil or danger ? ' ' None worth taking into account. Come, come, promise, and you shall know.' ' Can you make no easier bargain to one who loves you, and thinks of your children ?' ' No ; but don't make so much of things.' ' Well, I do promise, since I must.' Anthony saw she was growing agitated, and that he must cut the matter short ; so he told her this : ' I have for some time been troubled about the increasing water in the mine. Circumstances have at last given a kind of explanation. Your old friend, Jacob ' % • My friend ! ' ' Your first love, you know.' 1 If he was my first love, then I have had no second.'

'.Well answered,' said Anthony, with a joyous laugh. 'He then has been seen going to his mines above ours night after night under circumstances so suspicious that not even Jacob's spotless character can resist the necessity of its being cleared up. I don't mean that he is anxious about his character, but that I am. I have been to a magistrate, laid before him certain facts, and seeming evidence— not amounting as yet to proof, but of so suspicious a nature that he has granted a warrant for us to search his mines, and sent an excellent official to arrest Kinder, if we should find him engaged as we suspect.' ' Oh, Anthony ! To think of going into such danger, and leaving me in entire ignorance ! '

' Dtnger ! Pooh ! Jacob is not. the man for that, lie always qhuns that, aa he would the small-pox or auy uUier unseemly thing. Now, then, good-bye. liLpect me la the earliest of the small hours,'

• Oh, Anthony, dearest, do wait dp—— * I will do nothing but kiss you, and it would not be gallant for me to delay doing that— Bo there!' He kissed her, removed her clinging arms, and left the room to go at the last moment to a private closet, in order to fetch a revolver, and to change his dress for a garb more fitted to the mines and the work in prospect. This occupied him some minutes, and then he was going to the outer door, but moved by a feeling that after all he might be again mistaken in his man, he stole Boftly up the stairs to the room where his children were, to kiss them— it ad then joined his men, who were pacing to and fro, scattered about, wondering and waiting, but who soon collected together aB they heard his step and voice, — •Nowl'

There was not a gleam of light, so that Anthony had to feel rather than see how many companions he could muster. They numbered five— besides the foreman and the policeman — eight in all. They moved rapidly up the hill, no one venturing to speak to his neighbour, even in a whisper, and presently reached a_ rude, half- : ruined stone enclosure, roofless, which had bsen j used in old days as a shelter for sheep. It was knee- deep with leaves that had been blown in, and could not again get out. Here they lay down to wait and watch for Jacob's expected nightly visit to his property. Then for the first time Anthony spake, but only to say,— ' Bury yourselves among the leaves, in case anyone should look in !' Nearly an hour passed, and Anthony began to fear that his adventure was to end rather absurdly, when they heard some one coming, and then saw Jacob Kinder go by, looking carefully to his steps by the aid of his lantern, which he only opened from time to time. Anthony was about cautiously to rise, when a hand arrested him — whose he knew not; and while he was wondering Kinder oame back, and holding out his lantern, threw its light into the plaoe. The light was feeble, the plaoe large, the dark leaves mingled well with the dark forms among them, so after a brief pause the light was extinguished, and the holder went bis Not to his trees— to Bee how they were growing, but to the mines to see how the conceptions of his brain were growing in them. Bapidly he descended the first long ladder, Anthony watching the progress from the top* by the light of Kinder's lantern. Not till Kinder had reached the bottom of the first stage of the desoent, and moved away towards a lower one out of sight, did Anthony put his foot on the ladder and swiftly follow, himself also followed by the little band. The bottom attained, Anthony had to make a quiok run to track the distant light— for there were levels branching out in all directions, among which it might be lost ; and bo reached a second descent In time to see Jacob's lantern at the bottom. ( A third descent of only three or four yards was made by all, and Anthony knew from the freshness of the air they were now at the bottom, and in a large open space. . In fact there remained only a series of slopes from high to lower ground, to pass over, Kuided Bolely by the faint twinkle of Jacob's lantern. Presently they oame to a place whioh An* thony could only, make out by slow degrees, . and in actual contact with his hands, and by the rays of Jacob's lantern, which they were coming near to — though with extreme'care and silenoa— and thus saw there was water below them on the right. They were on a kind of earth bridge or high bank, gradually broadening as they descended, on one side, while there was a black mass of water, how deep or how wide they could not tell, but extending all along as they advanced. 1 At last the lantern stopped, was set on the ground, and all waited in breathless expectation for the next move.

Presently a second light appeared,, and then a third, and so on till quite a dozen or so were burning, and Jacob, no doubt was going to work.

They could clearly see his form— the floor of the slope reaching from them to' him. and the broad aB well as black mass of the water beside them, extending to where Jacob was. The scene of Jacob's labour was an opening out of the natural cavity, in which they had been for some time moving, so that there was both height and breadth for him to move freely about in the use and disposition of his tools, and the arrangement of his raised lights. Moving now an inch or two only at a time, Anthony and the rest got sufficiently near to see in part what he was, doing, and to judge from that of the meaning of the whole.

Sad to Bay, it became, then, clear that Mr Jacob Binder's nightly and dangerous toil was to break away bit by bit portions of the wall of earth from the top, so as to allow the water to flow over, gently for a time, till at last there would be a sudden and wide breach, a tremendous burst, and the whole would be discharged into Anthony's mine through the many channels that connected it with this one.

Anthony and his band drew nearer and yet nearer, while Jacob remained so busily engaged in his petty and noisy work that he had heard nothing till they were so near that they were able to see, beyond the possibility of mistake, the entire nature of bis occupation.

It was like the crack of doom to him when he heard a well-known voice behind him,— ' What, Jacob, busy as üßual ?' Jaoob turned, saw Anthony, saw the many figures, took in the whole position with admirable perspicuity, then put his hand to his breast pocket, and presented a revolver. ' The first that moves is a dead man !'

' Gome, come, Jacob, that is idle talk ! I too have a revolver ; so has my friend the official here. But we are peaceable men. He, the magistrates' representative here, has a war rant to arrest you ; and we come to see him do it !'

'Arreßtl' 'What for?'

' There will be more time to discuss to-mor row. You have too much good sense not to bow to the inevitable.' Anthony still approached, and Kinder, as accepting his advice, smiled, and also advanced.

Suddenly he raised his revolver— and fired point blank as he thought at Anthony, but there were two persons close to the latter, one of whom, with a wild scream— a woman's scream— had anticipated the act, rushed forward instantly, and bo caught in her own frame the assassin's shot— and fell ; while the other, the policeman, seeing what was done, and expecting more to follow fi the same kind, sent a bullet right through Kindor's brain, who dropped dead, with startling suddenness. But Anthony was on his knees, half frantic to find the woman was Mabel, who had taken from a closet in the hall, where such things were always hanging ready for visitors about to go down into the Mine, a man's long coat and wide-awake hat, in whioh she concealed her hair, and, watching her opportunity, mingled with tho rest juat before they loft Lipstone, her presence unsmspeoied till tlrio fearful moment.

Wonderful to imy, Mabel's face vaa lii '.pith such v seraphic umile, that Anthony, an he held the lantern to her faoe, seemed to se<? her again

as she was in their first hours of love and en chantment.

• Dearest, don't mind,' she said, ' I think If I am to die, I cannot hope to do so more full of joy and peace, if indeed I have saved you.' That was a kind of feeling to be checked at any cost. And so thinking, all his worldly good sense and decisiveness came back.

'Nonsense!' exclaimed Anthony. 'Where are you hurt ?' ' Through my shoulder.' 1 Can you move your arm ?' ' Yes, but it ia numbed.' ' All right, Mabel. It is only a flesh wound.' And he began to cut away the coverings and bind the wound with handkerchiefs steeped in cold water. ' Keep up for my sake till we get back to Lipstone, and I have got you right* and then tremble for your present madcap be haviour.'

Looking again at her wonderfully proud, joyous, happy face, he could not but exclaim, with evident emotion, — ' DarliDg, sweet, my own dearest, best beloved, do you understand how I must throw off, in these wild words, what lies within, and and almost overpowers me ? But you are safe, you are,better, you no longer fear V ' No, I feel incapable of fear any more, if in« deed I am to you what you say.' He then managed to make a kind of litter, with two or three of the long coats worn among the party, and gradually, all aiding, they surmounted every difficulty, got her to the but face, and to he? home. , There, many days later, and after a period of brain fever, and delirium, but of final recovery and convalescence, Mabel lay on a couch, her thin, delicate fingers held in Mrs Mason's. It was Mabel who spoke :— l ' I am glad Anthony has left me for a few minutes, though I believe it is the first time since that awful night of whioh he has told you. My dearest mother, all my fears have gone ! He again respects me. I cannot tell you how good he is ; how his every thought re garding our fnture is of, and for, me. My only fear is to be spoiled.' ' Then, after all, if you are "Victor," he is still, poor man, to be the " Victim." '

THE END.