Chapter IX.

Otago Witness, Issue 1751, 13 June 1885, Page 24

Chapter IX.

firrakiPg Up.

Oamiola had not noticed at first who it was that eitna to her asaiytauce. Sho recognised Mr« Pollen beforo she looked at Rjmont. When shi did nee him aha (started and exclaimed, "Mr Romont !" in a tone of surprise and com-'i.hing like alarm. This vm not lo3h on Mrs Pollen. Itomont aud she hsd oums auddnuly on dimiula and Georgo; had tmnod found the cornet ot a path of codara, to tiad their way sfcoppid by Camiola rind her fallen lover. Thay hj,d both soen Caminla kisa poor George's pallid face/ Woithei- stepped to think auythiug abou j tha r . at the moment ; tho pair might bavre been husband and wife, or brother »nd sHa\ But v/hdii Runout, dropping ou hia kneas b»w that he waa bosido Cuniol,^ ttahins, and tiirj; Mia hvl bdvju ki««ng young Lisls, the wouodi-d h&ro coqi9 b.icfe: trom tho \/*iu, h« naturally drew the only conclusion that peoiiied at fcba sima fairly opou to a ratioui.*! m»yii's aooopUuca. Such conclusion, too, M"; i'ollftu un;;h', h wo drj-wu it ahc had not ocea aa-t appraci j .tud tha look of pain aad shame whish cmcm over Citttiola'a {ace, like a wet wan nloud over the moon, when the girl saw tb^fc Romont was wwr her. "If I know auything of woman I know v/bat that meann," Mm i*ol!6n said Lo herself. "Tliovo will be some pretty pi syiag at cross purpose going oa hd<eprQ>>.(mUy )i aome one Jueun'L iiivevvono iv tinio." 11, did uol take !\or long to raako up her mind any more than to come to hey coftcliraosiy ; aud aba made up bar mind ihat if no on 3 oli>e intervened in timo she would.

•'We wave walking hero; and lie f silted," Civnloia. atamaiered ; " aud he had been wounded you know "

"Yes, I noo," EiOnaoni; quietly answered; " his wound haw taken to bleeding again. He mayn't bo «uy the wnreo for fcUAii parhapo, \Ve may lift him now, I think? he is recovering hiii-Jblf ; tho iaiofc i'; neacly ovac. Mcb Pollen, hiippo-9 you kindly cnxne aud tike his head in your ]st[j?" " Oertaiuiy," Mrs Pollen answered, with promp)"no]3 and perfect o>mp>>sure. She sa,t quietly down on tho gravel walk, and raiaod ttio boy's head tenderly, and took it m her lap. " Why, ib'ii Georgia Liile," aha whinpared. Oamiola now xvw standing v ; Roinout was Htill bandiag oyor tfie wounded youth, and was holding a handkerchief fcighUy r-queez.sd iga'ust thai; p-\rb of the lad's shoulder from wliioli tin blood was oosmg ; the rush of blood h»d csaaeil

(a-sorgp til. Gsoyye opobecl hia 05 es languidly; ch)Bod thpm aßa*n .; opened them anov/ lesa languidly, and «a,id, " Omniola?"

" Horo, Gisorgie, near you," Cimiola said ; •'you are bettor, aro you not? Your wound b.'gaa to bleed a little— "

"I'm Ml right," he murruuiei; "it's nothms?; I doa'fc cava aboufi tlio wound — it isn't that."

" No," thought Mrs Pollen, " ifc isn't that."

Ha became aware of the f vet that O imiola and he were not any longer al>ao, and he made au attempt to rife ; bnt "r« Pollen kept him down with gentle foico. " Where on earth am XV" ho asked, with a enrio'-dty just arousing itself from that languor which oomes after a faint, and which takes everything for granied and i« puzz'od by nothing. " You are lying in tha lap of a woman old enough to be your mother," Mrs Pollen informed him ; " and two mmutea' walk from a room where you will bs able to go in a very few seconds. Mr ftomonfc says there is no harm done ; and he understands things, and I tbink he is right ; and I hava ssaeu a few wounded m3n ravuelf ia iay time."

" Give mo your band, old man," Romont eaid, a3 ho saw George trying to rise — "ail right, Miss Sabine " — Oamiola was making an iu^tinctiva movemcufc to corao to the rescue also —I'll tako o.u\i of him, VVo'll got him quietly iato a bed ; and thru I'll have a surgeon come aud sco him at ouco. Thare's sure to ba a sue geon o£ aouw kiaJ in all that crowd youdor ; nobody ever saw a crowd lika that without a doctor of aomQ aort hi it."

" I can \v*lk all right," Goorgo aaid, staggering ao he said Iho wordo ; " I'm ku/o I can," " Still, you may as woll lean ou my arm," Romont said.

" And on mine," added Mrs Pollen ; and she offered him an arm which was as strong as it wa3 white and shapely. Camiola felt as it she were left out in tho oold. She was now beginning to wondor what they could have thought of hor. Thsy must have eoeu her kiss poor Georgia. What did that matter ? Was ho not R,lmont her brother ? Was ho not to all appearance dying at the time Still they were perhaps not exactly in posdession of all the facts of the caso ; they certainly wero not in possession of home of the facts ; atid *>vl»afc would they think of her ? what would he think of her?

''I sou awfully jolly now," George Sfc. George tried to speak in chaary uiau-iiHae-worlrl bone; "I say, how awfully kind you both are."

" It'a in Romont'3 lino," Mra Polloa said ; " his business in life iv to g., abouc heipiug paopln— -it's his trade : aud for me lam always delighted to have a chance of doing anything for a yood-lookinc young man." " Li >k hero," Rimonfc sugg-tsted, " cin't we wneiik into the h^ns-i in 8 uno quiot way ; down i.Us rilvmnny or ttomohov? -sso that wo miyii'i" !•< bO'T»,t:td U\'h b y'« raothor k<j' flight You kuow your w.-.y about, Mrs PoDon ; it'a your own homestead."

" Yoa ; hud my foot isn't' on my native he/.lli, and I have only jusl Rot hold of \,he place ; and ob, hxe'a Mr Pilgrim ; ha knows all about i.."

Mr PiJgiltn had name saooniiig out of tho house r.t odd.-' with nl*- i,ho festivity, and tired ft frhn cr.ovil. He wc-h pnt So p i J?son-.i"T» of {jje

facts, and he undertook to conduct George utterly unsDeu into a remote and quiot room, where he could lie ou a bed until a surgeon OAino, aud ue promised to find a surgoon in a

" Ob, thank you," exclaimed Camioln, with sparkling eyea ; "thank you ao much, dear, doar Mr Pilgrim ; what a treasure you are ; you always sue." Pilgrim's bloodless oher-k diJnofc uidsod reddsu, but a positive spasm came over hia face; und his lips trembled. " Che very thing I might; havo expected ¥' M.xb Pollen said t,o her owu noul ; 5v ju3t as I thought first. We must i sally yet thw young lady to moderate the transports oi hor gratitude."

George was conveyed away by Romont and Pilgrim. Mrs Polloa and Camiola remained standing on the stepd of ona of tho side doora of th 3 hou^e. They were iv shadow ; there ware but few lights in the windowo ou that side ; tbe sounds of tho music aud the various movoment3 camo on Camiola's ear clearly enough to bring sense oi companionship and shelter and protection with them, but not lou'l'y enough to suggest interruption. She felt tLit ahe muat say oomathiug to Mr« Pollen, It would ba impossible not to offer some explanation ; to lot matters stand ju=st as thoy did. Oamiola did not as yet much like Mrs Pollen; thought her fibre rather coarse; did not understand hor ; hud not even triad to understand her. Also oha had somehow got tho idea into her mind thai Mrß Pollen did not much lika her. It was not pleasant, therefore, to h;wo to humble herself to explanations, and co endeavour to propitiate Mrs Pollon, but it had to bo done.

" I am afraid you will ba inclined to form wrong conclusions," she begw, " about me, and about Gaorge Lislo. You saw mo kiss him?"

. " Yes, I saw you kiss him," Mrs Pollen said ; " raoro th.m ones, too. What matter, Miss Sabino ? I shan't tell. I think to kiss and toll ia not a bit woise than to see a kise and tell."

*' But it isn't that," Oamiola answered, somewhat hotly ; "I don't caro about being seen; I don't care if all the people saw mo kUs him. Then I have known him a long time, and I am very fond of him, and he fainted, aad I thought he was goiag to dia, aud why shouldn't I kiss him ?"

'" I am sure, my dear young lady, I know no raason why you ahoulda't. I daresay I should have kissed him raysoif out of pure Rympathy under the same conditions, although I have not known tiitu a long time, a»d am not particularly fond of him." " But it isn't that," Camiola interrupted. " Oh, ifc isn't that. Then what is it ?" " Well, perhaps you will think that George Lisle and I are engaged ;-that we are lovere." "I don't think," oaid Mra Pollen, quietly, " anything of the kind." "I am very giad," " I don't think you aro engaged ; and I don't believe you aro lovers ; at ie^ot I don't believa that you are in love with him, If ifc comes to that; I know you are not." S,h^ fixed har oyes on Uamiola'a faoa. Camiola tolt herBelt growing tremulous under the bold deep eyeo.

'■ My dear Miss Sabine," Mra Pollen said ; " 1 don't want to know any of your secrets; at least I didn't ; but I can't help knowing your ono particular secret now ; and Ido know it ; and you know now that I kuow it."

" Oh, for pity's sake; ob, for Heaven's aake;" dnaiola implored, and she put her hands instinctively over her byes. For Mra Pollen was right ; Oamiola felt too sruly that Mm Pollen kuew already that 83oreb which;tweatyfour hours ago, two hours ago, she did not quite know herself. The sudden pang of shame which made ber cry out Rjinoufs name when she saw him kneeling beside hor, and knew that he had seen her kiss George Lisle, had first made her certain that she was in lovo, and with him. " It doss nob matter my knowing it," Mrs Pollen Baid. " Nobody will be any the wiser of it for me. I wouldn't have breathed a word of this to you but that I do think it is right, and the pars of one who witshas you well, to put yon a little on your guard." "Oa myguard againat what?" Oamiola asked, with retuioiag dofiauce, and ineetiug Mra Polleu's look now boldly enough.

"Ajjainat yourself, nay dear, aud for the sako of others. I know that you aro no flirt or commonplace beauty of any kind ; I don't believe you are even very vain — f jr & handsome girl with a fortune, that is to say " " Oh, that everlasting fortune !" Camiola mm mured between her teeth. " Must I always hear of it ?''

" It is a nuisauca to be rich, at least I find it so ; but I don't know that t ever heard of anybody else who complained of it except you. But I speak out to you for your own good and the good of other people, and I wouldn't speak ia such a way if I didn't behave you to be a woman with some heart and some brains. Make up your mind about thia young Lisle." " My mind is made up; I told him so." " Yts ] I thought a3 much. Well then, keep to your resolvo ; you won't find it easy, but keep to it. You will have some trouble, that I soe ; but you must bear it, and koep to your raaolve ; don't— for all the friends and relatives in the wodd — curisd&s to ni.u-ry th.it young man — or any man whom you dou't lovo. I'or the man you do love, why, let ihiuga go aa they will ; ho doesn't suspect — as yot —what I know. About other men— do, like a good girl, let them alone. Keop clear of thenx, whatever l.heir ohm. They aro men, not stocks or stones. You are full of kindness, I know, but a handuoma woman's kindueaa may sometimes kill a man. Thero, that's enough. Don't bo augry with me for talking to you liko a mother, I wish to Heaven 1 were youc mother. Well, Mr Pilgrim, is our young patient all right ? Thanks, I'm so glad to hear it. Come, Miss Sabine, wo had better go in. Fine as the night ia we have lungs and throats, you know, She swept Oamiola away with her, and they were presently immersed in the. ' madding crowd.

Camiola was for a while absolutely oilanfc. The whole condioions of lite seamed to have changed in a moment for hor. She was as one who has suddenly boen taken into charge by some being from another world, and ia not as yet q.iito certain whether it ia Goethe's Mephiatophokiß or Massinger'a Angelo : a spirit of darkness or a spirit of light.

Aa Ghriatiau Pilgrim stood in tho shadow he was joined by Romont, who had just left George.

" Me'u all right," Eomont aaid ; "he ia not going to die this time. He'll be able to walk uorao prorontly, and uobody will know that anything bappsned to him." "It'a a pr»tty bad wound," Pilgrim eaid, Rhakiiig hi-i huad.

'* i wish io hoaveu I hai tha woand," Romont waid, "aud tha bvlsiin." K<s was think i<ig of tbo kisies ha hnd scon lijid on the lips ot prostvate (4eor-«o LUle. " And I suppose tho tollov/ fjor»sn'c aven know do got tham," _hR thought iv hia own mind. " They would havo wftkencct raa out of the «leop of death, I bsliwve "

•* Whst do you wean, Mr Romoiit," pilgrim p.akccJ, timidly ; " whit buLam V He iiD^9Vi;t'.-rl b Pien,aiuf» iv l^'uv.roi^ but

not their meaning, and Romont'B expression puzzled him.

" Nothing in particular ; at least never mind, old mra. Tbe world baa some lucky fellows, Pilgiim."

" I am sure you are ono of tbe very luckiest, Mr Romont. ; the happiest at ieaßfc. The world io very kind to you, and you are very kind to tbe world."

" Well, I haven't much to coir plain of, and that's a fact," said Romont, cheerily. " You look rather out of sorts, Pilgrim. But then you always look out of sorts ; it's a way you hava. Do you know that 1 have a kind of idea you wara soartd by tbe sight of that poor lad's blood 1 lam used to that. I have carried the G3neva Croas."

"I think you have. dons everything, Me Romont," his admirer said. They were a curious contrast ; the one all youth and health and animation, a living illustration of the fusion of fire and clay ; tbe other wasted, prematurely old, depressed, hopeless.

" There's one thing I msau not to do just now, if I can help it, Pilgrim, my Christian hero."

" And that is, Mr Romont ? '

" I mean not to make a fool of myself," Romont answered, and Pilgrim could not get him to say any more on the subject.

The gardens, which had been so lonely when the festivity wa3 afc its haighfc, wore nowcrowded, for the party was breaking up, and the guests were going away. Tho band wa,» playing " God savo the Queen," and this was understood to be the signal of parting. A sort of cloud of men, women, and children was breaking over the gardan. Tho cloud booh melted into living streams along the broad gravol walks under the cedars. There waa much talking, bud ifc was subdued in tone. The familiarity which had been just beginning to grow up in the miada of the humbler gueßts duriug their houra withiu doors suddenly deserted them again as they came into the open air, tbe shadow of the stately old trees, and the vicinity of the Rector's carriage and his departing family. Gqorge Lisle was able to go home with bis people, and none of them knew anything of what bad happened to him, Walter Fitzurse kept with him to tbe last. He had handed Janette to tha carriage, and on tho way tbither was trying to summon up courage enough to ask her for a flower from her fadiug bouquet ; but he had not found the courage while the opportunity remained, and he bad to abandon tbe idea.

Mr Lisle and Georgia were walking home, the distance being but short. Walsor waß turning away somewhat depressed in mood, having failed to ask for the flower, when he came face to face with Romont. ,

" You're not going to bod yet, I dare say. I'm not ; that's flat. Come aiong with ma to the club ; or stay, we'll go £0 my rooms, we'll bo quiotar thare. I have got; a little brougham hero which v^ill rattlo us over in no time. It isn't mine, but my mother's ; only I make use of it a good deal for her now and then, as in - dead 1 10 of most things that are hera and that I can make any use of."

He put his hand on Walter's arm, and was leading him away. It was clear-that Rotnonfe did not suppose Walter to be a resident of that quarter, and Walter could not summon up courage enough to tell him tha truth. Walter wa3 not at all inclined to say that he would ba expected to escort oue of the poor little girls of Filzurseham to b.3r boms. Nor, on the other hand, did it aeern probable to Walter that his new friend would often be in that region again, and he was determined, come what would, to transfer himself to another and a different quarter at ouoe. So they made their way through a little crowd at the gate. W,i)ter thought he saw a glimpse of Miss Lammas ss they went by, and it only made him quicken his atepu. There were not many carriages; the lights of the brougham soon flashed upon them, and they got in and rolled away. v I'm glad it's over," said Romont, " and yet — I don't know ; I think I enjoyed myaalf more than I expsctwd," He was determined to make the bast of things. "So did I," Walter replied, and tried to make his answer soem careless. Truly, be had enjoyed himself more tban be expected, and in a different way.

Mrs Pollen had announced her intention of remaining behiud until the company bad all gone. Sho wished to soe what the place would look like whea deserted, she sari ; she remained standing by tha ancient hearth in the great hall, which had been deadly- lively with iliassortod c nupaay a shore time before. In the very last flickering-out group of guests she notiend the odd figure of Jethro Merridew, the morning callman. Mr 3 Pollen knew him already, and had heard of bis story.

" Mr Merridew," she said, as he was slowly passing. " I v/ant to say a word to you before you go," and she beckoned him with her fan.

Ha approached her deferentially, and bowing with antique courtesy, renewing his bowß as ha came nearer and nearer.

" Mr Morridew, you and I are both waiting aud looking for Borne one. I have come to Fitzurseham to look for a relation whom I may never "find ; and you are waiting for your danghter. May I ask if she has yet come ?''

Marridow at firnt looked eharply and almost angrily ac her whon Bbc spoke of his daughter. Tho subject waa one which he was accustomed to hear of only in connection with giboa, and rudeness, aud laughter. The feelings of tha Mtzuraaham .public wera cot always ' Tory refined, and certain misfortunes woro usually considered by them a legitimate theme for mirth. Any supposed derangement of a man's faculties, for example, was regarded as a very fitting subject for comic observation and tor pleasant raillery. If a man's wife was supposed to be rather free and easy n her conduct, it was esteemed quite the right sort of thing to chaff the husband about it ; to " rally him," as the humourists of a past day would have said, and to take good caro that he should not often forget it. In the same spirit Mr Merridew's suppoaed craze on the one theme of bis daughter and her expected grandeur was understood to givo all his neighbours a proper occasion for making fun of him. It may be that just for an hiHfcaut Mr Morridew supposed Mrs Pollen was indulging in the popular pastime ; but the expression on her face soon satisfied and quieted him. "No ; I have not yet heard from herj" tho poor little man said ; " I came here, ma'am, with the thought that perhaps this was the p'aca and this wai the occasion when she might believe it fitting to make her reappoaranca ; but no ; no. ' Sho comes not yefc to gladden her father's eyes,' as the poet eayV •' You hive never told ins all about her, Mr Merride.w ; and I should much like .to know. I should also like to tell you about my search tor a relation, of whose very existoaae I am not cortain. You have lived some time in this phc'i, and you must know everybody ; you might help mo in my search, perhaps ; and 1 might help you." " I dou'fc talk about it much,'* he Gaid, huriiGLlly : " hniG, iv Fitzui'sobam ; taMuse yeopl? tl<?o't uniwiteiKl wi are rode and vul^e* ;

and don't believe ; and laugh at their betters. Tbe load laugb, ma'am,, speaks tbe vacant mind."

" I quite understand your caution ; and I too am very alow about letting people in general know anything of my object in coming to this place. They wouldn't understand me ; they would thiDk me absurd. But you, Mr Merridew, are not people in general; and I should not mind telling you." Mr Merridew was entirely overcome. " I Bhould be proud to tell my story to a lady like you, a real lady with a hnart for sympathy ; the lady of the land, indeed, if I may presume to apply to you the words of the great poet, Coleridge." " Shall we talk of it now, Mr Merridew ? I am not fond of going to bad early — I don't know if you are." "Tbia night, ma'am, it iB my intention to outwatcb the bear, as Milton says. I do not propose to eleep at all, for I have to arouse half Firzursehaua at all manner of early hours —after your gracious hospitality of this evening." "Sit here, then, Mr Merridew, and tell mo all about it." For Mrs Pollen was by no moans convinced that Mr Merridsw's notions came of mere monomania, and she was inclined to regard him with compassion, and was curious to know whether something could not ba done for him.

f Tobe Continued.)