Chapter 11. The Green-eyed Monster.

Otago Witness, Issue 1832, 31 December 1886, Page 10

Chapter 11. The Green-eyed Monster.

It was midsummer eye. Mr Welston, with his family, had repaired to his summer residence — a delightful country villa near Brighton. Here Maud was as happy as the day was long. Intensely a child of Nature, she drank in a rich supply of pleasure from the abundant Btores arc;- iid — up the flo wer-Bpangled hillside ; in the quiet, tunlit valley, with its murmuring, rippling stream, whose language she has learned to understand ; in the Bhady grove, with its lovely foreign trees, whose boughs are peopled by happy, joyoui birds, singing gaily in the early summer morn, or bidding tarewell to departing day with rich, melodious notes ; and last of all, on the bright sea beach, with the heaving ocean tossing its foam- crested waves high over the rocks, or sending them, exhausted, gently rippling at her feet. Here, sitting on some rocky promontory, gazing abstractedly across the limitless expanse of watar, Bhe would stay for hours, in silent communion with the voice of Nature— enjoying that indefinable pleasure known only to tbe heart of the true child of Nature when ailently pondering over her mysteries. Ah, there is a joy, a rapturous, thrilling joy in the dull thud of tbe thundering waves as they crash against the stubborn rocks and cause them to vibrate beneath your feet. There is a sublimity in the wild and wrathful billow, now rearing high its head as some sunken rock impedes its progress, and again dashing madly forward till nothing but a confused mass of fleecy foam sinks) back to meet the succeeding wave. There is a oalm and Boothing influence felt when gazing upon the placid surface of the world of waters, as the glorious sunlight rests upon it and causes it to glow with golden sheen, and its wavelets seem to kiss the shore with caressing tenderness. There is a balm here to Boothe the troubled spirit and calm the anxious breast — to lull the soul to higher thoughts and feoling more profouud. It wai Maud's birthday — a bright, glorious, sunny day. The house was all astir with active preparation for the evening's amusement. Bright green branches from tbe plantation adorned every prominent Bpace, and choice flowers beautified every vase and Gpread their perfume throughout the house. Already the sun was sinking to rest, enciroled by bright golden clouds, behind which he peered as some guardian genius looking down with mingled feelings of wrath and pity upon the puny Bons efmeq. * r

Numerous parties of gay young people were already assembled; and the merry laugh of youth was blent with tbe constrained mirth of sobered age. All present seemed bent on enjoyment, Even William Mainsfield, usually so morose when at Bocial gatherings with Maud, seemed to be happy as he danced in the quadrille with Maud on the green. All were full of fun and good spirits— all except Maud ', somehow she was not in her usual mood that night, and in spite of the merriment around her she was not happy. Her father Boon noticed that she did not join in with the merry-makers, and kindly asked her why. She gave a reply which made her father's brows darken, though at the same time her beseeching look touched his heart. 'Dear Maud,' he said, 'you know that I have vowed that he shall never enter my house while I live, and I think you know ma well enough to feel that you plead in vain.' Maud made no reply, but with a sad heart shrank away ,from her father to the garden arbour, there to weep unseen, The moon rose and shone in all her Bplendour, on hill and dale and ocean fair, throwing a beauteous flood of silver light over all. Round-orbed, calm, and pale, the bright moon looked down from out the deeply-studded vault overhead, and oast her soft rays all around, till each tree and shrub assumed some fantastio shape, and you might fancy that a horde of fairies had come to be present at tbe feast.

It was only after much persuading that Maud could be induced to join in tbe dance at all, vainly pleading in excuse that she had a headache, which was true, but the greater ache was at her heart. She agreed to dance with her lover, as she was afraid to offend by refusing. When the next dance was in progress Maud rose and left the room, unobserved as she thought, and stepped out into the clear moonlight. Nervously she glanced around, and then went again to the arbour at the farther end of the garden. There she stood in the full flood of the moon's beauteous light, which, falling upon the mother-of-pearl ornaments she wore, made them glisten with a pale, gleaming light, contrasting strangely with the dark foliage around hor. Her face, pale and beautiful as an angel's, was lighted up till her soft, compassionate eyes seemed orb 3of living light. With hands olaappd and eyes turned full upon the moou ehe sat in silence, but her soul was busy within. In the silence her soul broks forth into musings too deep for words, and she eat for some time immovable as a statue.

' Oh, Albert, 1 she at last murmured, ' why are you not here to-night? Wh-t would I not give to see your face but once this night.' Af< if in answer to her passionate words, a low, sad voice whispered :

• Maud !'

She sprang to her feet, and with one word — 1 Albert '—was locked ia his arms. Long they stood in fond embrace, and when their hands unclasped, Maud's sweet faoe was wet with tears of mingled joy and grief. Scarce had their arms unclasped when the sharp report of a pißtol rang almost in their very ears, and Albert fell prone to the earth. With one despairing cry Maud threw her arms around him, while his life blood stained her breast. For a moment the hand of the murderer, red from his bloody deed, with the vengeful weapon-still in his grasp, was raised above her bead, while his oruel eyes glared upon the fallen form before him, like some fierce beast of prey when its victim is secure. Then muttering fiercely through his clenched teeth, ' Revenge 1 treachery !' he glided into covert of the trees.

The pistol shot filled tbe house with consternation, and tbe merriment was brought to a sudden close. When it was found that Maud bad gone outside, Mrs Welston clasped her hands and cried : ' Ob, my daughter, my Maud.'

The first to reach the spot whence the sound came was Maud's father, and, oh, who can tell the feelings with which he gazed upon the bleeding form of his only son, whom he had branded as an alien, and for whom Maud bad pleaded so earnestly that very night, 'Oh, my God, Albert,' cried he, 'that I should see you die thus before my own door.'

The sound of his father's voice roused him for an instant; he gazed around him wildly and uttered the one word, 'Father,' then again lost consciousness. He was borne into the house and Dr Eccles, a skilled surgeon from London, staunched the deadly wound that was fast draining away his young life. But the doctor pronounced the wound to be mortal almost as soon as he saw it, for the ball had pierced the lungs. He could hold out no hope of recovery, but with skilful treatment and gentle care he might rally and live a few days. When Maud left the house, unobserved as she thought, she did not notice a pair of keen, treacherous grey eyes fixed upon her. William waß not long in noticing her anxious, restless manner, and when she Blipped quietly out jealousy seized him. At once he left the room, and, like the tiger in the jungle, crept stealthily forward till he stood within a few feet of where Maud sat. There he heard tbe impassioned words she had uttered, and every syllable goaded on the demon at his heart till it stood revealed in all its vengeful reality. With clenched teeth and compressed lips, and swollen veins he stood like some Grecian statue of the Evil One. The blood rushed back from his cheeks, and his brow was deadly pale ; the blue veins rose on bis forehead like knotted cords, and the sinews of his arms seemed bands of iron.

His first impulse was to dash the girl to the earth, and bis band was raised in the very act when, through a slight opening among the trees, he saw* the form of a man advance. A coward at best, he Bhrank baok deeper into the shade, and saw them embrace. He heard the kiss which true love only gives, and its sound to his heart was as the thrust of a dagger, sharp and keen. With a fearful oath he raised hiß arm and sped the cruel ball that did such deadly work. We must now explain why Albert was estranged from his paternal home. He had been employed by his father, and with that confidence which a father reposes in a son who has always borne the test of honesty, he was entrusted with the accountant department of the business. His duties Albert always performed with sorupulous care and honesty. Though possessing a fair sbare of his sister's gentle, loving nature, ho was full of the buoyant vigour of youth. He was full of animal spirits, and ever first in those athletic gameß where youth may cool its ardent blood. There was an under clerk in the counting house of whom Albprt was very fond. Wilfred Joyce waß one of those exceedingly obliging and accommodating young men who go by the name of • nice young men.' There was scarcely a club in the neighbourhood at which Wilfred did not get a welcome. 1 Come, Alfred, what a drone you ar6,' said Wilfred one evening as they Bat together in Mr WeletonV swag parlour 5 • however can you

spend your evenings here when you might have Buch jolly timea if you would only join some of the clubs f •I am afraid,' waß tbe quiet reply, ' I should be out of my element, just like a fish out of water, at your clubs. I neither drink nor gamble, so I would be but a cipher.' ' Oh, nonsense ; it is not necessary for you to either drink or gamble ; you could enjoy the company just as well without violating your principles. I believe you would find plenty with similar principles there, and when you como to know the company I feel sure you would enjoy yourself Jar better than you do here-. .Gome for this once and if you don't enjoy yourself you must be a misanthropist.'

After a good deal of persuasion Albert consented to go for once. Having attained this degree of success Wilfred knew how to mould his friend's pliable nature into a shape to suit his own, and before many months had gone Albert was » constant visitor at the club. On more than one occasion Albert bad to borrow money from his friend to pay his sbare of some of these expensive outings, and once he was bold enough to ask his father for some money. The stern remonstrance with which his father gave it showed him plainly that he need not look to the same source for help out of future difficulties.

After the first downward step it is not easy to turn round and ascend the ever-increasing declivity the novice is steadily descending. 4 So one little exoesß after another led Albert into frequent scrapes, some of which he found it difficult to get out of, His friend Beemed to have an endless purse, always capable of being extended on an emergency, while Albert wan at his wits' end to know how to meet his difficulties. Things went on in this way till one glowing morning Albert awoke from his troubled dreams to find the felon's chains on his wrists. The two frienda had been out later than ÜBual, and, of course, did not get up bo early; and when Albert did get up and entered the dining room he was met by a detective, who placed his band npon his Bnoulder and said : • You are my prisoner.' The shock was bo sudden that Albert turned pale" as death and sank into a chair ; but instantly recovering himself, the hot blood rushed to his brow, and he fiercely demanded of the detective what be meant. 'I mean, young man,' he calmly replied, ' that you are arrestsd for carrying on an extensive system of forgery during some months past.' He then proceeded to fasten handcuffs upon his prisoner.

' But surely you will trust me to walk beside you,' remonstrated Albert, 'without this indignity V ' No ; I cannot leave you free after I have arrested you.' ' Then, by heaven, you shall not obain me ; none with the blood of a Weteton in bis veins ever felt the felon's chains upon him ; and by all that's Bacred I will not be the first 1 I defy you !' oried the young man, wrought into a frenzy of rage and grief, as he Bprang to tha other side of the room and, seized a heavy Indian club which stood in a corner.

The officer drew his revolver, and covering his prisoner, demanded of him immediate submission.

But there Albert stood, every vein of bio brow swollen with intense emotion, with the club upraised in defiant menace. He bad co far allowed passion to overpower his reason that he was just about to strike the policeman when Maud burst into the room and threw her arms about her brother's neck.

The touoh of her arms about his neok was like a magician's wand, and the kiss on his brow dispelled the demon that stole his reaßop, and brother and sister mingled their tears in silence. The detective waß touched by the sight, and addressing Albert in a quieter tone, reasoned with him on the futility of resisting the strong arm of the law. Maud, knowing her brother's high spirit and extreme sensitiveness, begged of the officer to spare him the disgrace of being handouffed, which, after obtaining from Albert a solemn promise that he would give no further trouble, he agreed to.

With downcast eyes and drooping head Albert walked along with the policeman, who, in spite of his prisoner's promise, kept a sharp look out.

When Albert's father learned why his son was arrested, hiß heart sank within him, for Albert's conduct had been dubious of late. Bat nothing could induce the fond mother to believe her boy capable of Buch a crime as forgery. Waß ho not the very soul of honour, and through all the little freaks of boyhood had he not come forth true as steel? Then how could she believe him to be false now !

But in spite of all these fond reasonings, Mr Welston would not hear of her seeing Albeit before he was led away to prison. 'If he is cot guilty,' he said, ' all will come clear at the trial, and we can receive him baok into our family circle as one who has been lost and is found again, But, if he be guilty, I could not bear the pain of looking npon his face again.'