THE NOVELIST.

Otago Witness, Issue 1885, 6 January 1888, Page 29

THE NOVELIST.

[now first published.]

THE TRACK OF THE STOEM

A NOVEL.

By BORA RUSSELL.

Author of " Footprints in the Snow," " The Broken

Seal," &c, &c, &o.

[The Right ov Translation is Reserved.]

SYNOPSIS OP PREVIOUS CHAPTERS.

Chapters I and ll.— Lucy King, the pretty daughter of the Rector of Longford-by-the-Sea, and John Munsters, of Lee Grange, wore madly in love with each other, though the attachment was not favoured by Lucy's mother. The owner of a yacht which he had called the Lucy, he goes out on a cruise, and Lucy, the lady, not the vessel, Ib awaiting his return. As she walks by the side of the restless sea a bottle is washed to her feet, bearing the following enclosed message : " Seven o'clock, a.m., Tuesday,. October fl,— Yacht Lucy sinking. No hope. Anyone finding this message, please forward to J. Ministers, Lee Grange, Northumberland; or to fier. James King, Longford Bectonr. Northumberland, John Munsters. Good-bye, Luoy." The girl Is shocked by the intelligence. The news is broken to Munaters' brother, one of the ne'er-do-well sort, but shortly after he had donned mourning, be ii alarmed by a message from a Rotterdam merchant informing him that one of the vessels belonging to 1 the firm nad picked up at sea a shipwrecked sailor who (was believed to hnve been one of the crew of the Luoy; his arm being tatooed with the name.

Chapters 111. to V.— Joe visits Rotterdam for the purpose of seeing the sailor saved from the wreck of the Lucy, but finds that it is nob his brother Jack. The sailor tells him that the captain of the Lucy was alive when he left him, but just at this moment the sailor died, leaving the remainder of the story untold. Joe keeps to bimßolf what the man has told him, merely telegraphing back the words : "It was not Jack ; the man is dead." Lucy is removed to the house of an aunt, Mrs CranleyForbes, where an attempt is made to induce her' to cast off her griof at the loss of her lover, but she still laments for him. Sir William Harley, a rich M.P., casts favourable glancen at her, and hopes are entertained by her aunt that the girl will make a match with the wealthy widower.

Chapters VI to Vlll.— Poor Lucy receives a startling letter from home, her mother atating that her father, the Rector, is in pecuniary difficulties. Thereupon her aunt urges Lucy to accept the wealthy baronet as a husband, and, goaded by circumstances, she gives a faltering ," Yes" to Sir William when he offers her his hand and heart. The news is received with delight by her mother, though the Rector knows that her heart Is with her dead love, Jack. The wedding arrangements are hurried on, and it is two days from the ceremony when the Rector is alarmed by the hurried appearance of Joe. who enters his study white with excitement. "Oh ! Mr King," he said, " I— l— have heard from Jack— he is not deadl "

Chapters IX and X.— The good Hector, urged by his wife, decided to say nothing to Lucy as to the supposed discovery of Jack, and the marriage ceremony proceeds. As the bride and bridegroom commence their honeymoon tour the latter tells his wife a story of a young fellow named Jack Mumters escaping death from shipwreck, and is greatly surprised at seeing the effect of his narrative as she swoons in his arms.]

Chaptbhs XI and Xll.— Lucy, in her married life, endeavours bravely to bear the burden of an unsympathetic and vulgar husband. Months roll on, and Jack, through Sir William Harley's son, is introduced into the house of his former love. Their meeting was a painful one ; in his eye Lucy saw reproach and pain. " I did not know, Jack," she tried to murmur meekly ; " you believe I did not know " ; but her lips were dumb.

Chapter XIV.

A Skeleton. URELY the old saying that Jhere is a skeleton hidden in eVery house cannot be actually true ? Yet under how many prosperous roofs the unwelcome dweller stays ! Have we all one, I wonder — some dark shadow hovering .near our hearts we fear and shrink

from? "There is always something," people say; "some' flaw, some rift, even in the happiest lives." Therefore, though Sir William Harley had a very substantial skeleton of his own to contend with, he perhaps was only sharing the common lot. ' He kept this hidden away very closely. There were no ponderous jests, no inapt quotations wasted on that silent secret visitor, that yet lived for him night andday, tapping him on the back occasionally e^en in his moments of merriment-; sitting by him sometimes among his fellow lawgivers, but always ignored, and if possible forgotten, for Sir William's skeleton was a most unplesant and degrading one. It went out with him on the morning after his first open quarrel with Lucy, on the subject of Prissy and Jack Munsters. Perhaps it had ruffled his temper beforehand, and made him unpleasant to his young wife. It stalked by his side as he quitted Berkeley

square with his usual stately footsteps, and it entered the hansom he deposited himself in, the driver of which he commanded to take him to the beginning of Edgewareroad and it got out with him there, keeping close to him as he pushed his way through the jostling and not over civil crowd. Sir William walked on and on, not glancing to the right nor left, until he reached a pros-perous-looking butcher's shop, into which he entered. The owner qf the shop looked up as he did so and gaveasurly nod of recognition, but went on serving the customer on whom he was attending without any further civility to Sir William.

This customer, a delicate young woman with a baby of a few months in her arms, was trying to find a piece of meat suitable to her slender purse. " Can I have this for a shilling ? " she asked, timidly taking up a small piece of a neck of mutton. But the butcher shook his head ; and it ended in hex buying a sixpenny chop, for which she paid with a sigh, while Sir William stood with a disgusted air listening to the transaction. At last she went away, and Sir William was alone with the stout, red-faced, goodlooking man in the blue apron, with whom he had come to confer.

" I got your letter," he began, " and it is preposterous; I cannot go on giving such sums."

The man of beeves regarded the baronet with an unmoved countenance during this address.

" I have claims," he said slowly, when Sir William ended.

"I am not denying your claims ; but the money you want is ridiculous. Time after time I have advanced money to you since you came to this place ; if you make nothing, it's no good your staying." " It's the competition does it," remarked the butcher, with his round stolid eyes fixed on Sir William's face. " I must have money —and I have claims."

"Did I say you hadn't?" answered Bir William, irately. But at this moment another customer entered the shop, and the butcher immediately advanced to serve him, pointing as he did so with his big gleaming knife over his shoulder.

"Effie's in there," he said, indicating a back parlour behind the shop. "I'll speak to you directly; but I must have it." "Hump," grunted Sir William, and he crossed the shop and pushed open the door of the back parlour, in which a young girl was sitting at the table painting a fan. She glanced up as Sir William entered, and rose, but she did not speak, nor did she respond to the sour smile which passed over his face as he looked at her, nor accept his half offered hand.

" Well, Effie," he said, "and how are you getting on ?" " Oh, very well," she answered quietly. She was the prettiest little creature this— a slender young girl, with a charming olivetinted face, large brown • pathetic eyes, and masses of sof fc brown hair. Sir William was thinking how pretty she was as he looked at her, and as he looked he sighed.

"How is your aunt?" he, asked abruptly the next minute.

" Neither better nor worse. Will you go upstairs to see her to-day ?" "Not to-day; I've not time. So you're painting a fan 1" " Yes. I get a little money for them at the shops." "Ah — hum— do you want some pocket money, my dear ? Here is five pounds." And Sir William drew a note out of his pocket and laid it down on the table beside the girl. "Thank you," said Eftle, without much gratitude or emotion in her voice. "And Effie," continued Sir William, nervously changing his ivory headed umbrella from one hand to the other, talking about money, I wish you would try to prevent your cousin Luke spending so much. It's

ruinous the way he's going on. How does he spend it 1 Does he bet 1" " I know nothing of his affairs," said Effie coolly. " I suppose he thinks he has a right to money." " I have advanced him thousands, absolutely thousands," said Sir William angrily ; " and now he writes to say he must have five hundred pounds."

" I don't know."

At this moment the blue aproned man from the shop made his appearance, and Efiie rose again when she saw him. "I had best leave you two alone?" she said. ' " I have nothing to say you may not hear," replied Sir William. " I can't go on giving you money at this rate," he went on, glaring in great wrath, with his brown, blood-shot eyes at the butcher's red face, "and I

won't!"

"It will cost you more if you don't," said the butcher coolly. ,

He was a man about 32 years of age big and burly, with a face, that would have been handsome if it had not been so round and red. And he had a determined dogged manner which seemed to irritate Sir William greatly. " You are an ungrateful fellow " began Sir William. " You had best shut up and take care, " interrupted the butcher. •• Don't quarrel, please, on account of aunt," saidEffie; "if she hears your voices it will make her very ill." *, You had best go to her, Effie," now remarked tno butcher in that cool, slow way of

his, " and don't tell her he is here,'' he added, with anything but a complimentary nod of his head in the direction of Sir William;

Effie gave a little nod too, and left the back parlour, taking a small, round black hat in her hand as she did so.- She put this on her pretty head as she crossed the shop and went out of the door, going to a neighbouring greengrocer's, where she bought some spring flowers and grapes with the money Sir William had just giyen her. Having completed her purchases she returned to the butcher's shop, over, which in large letters appeared the name of •

Luke Smith.

Thebigrnan with theblue apron, whom Effie had left talking to Sir William Harley, was Luke Smith, and he was Effie's first cousiD, this young girl having been reared from her infancy by Luke's mother. She was a beautiful girl, this Effie Dorrer, whose young Swiss mother had died at her birth ; and to her second mother, Mrs Smith, she had given all her warm young heart in return for the tenderest love and care which Mrs Smith had bestowed on her dead sister's child.

She ran lightly up the staircase behind the shop now, carrying her flowers and fruit as a present for her aunt, who was a great invalid. The staircase was well carpeted, and the large sitting room over the shop which Effie entered was furnished in a solid comfortable fashion, everything being good of its kind.

In an easy chair by a big bright fire sat a woman, leaning back, occupying her delicate hands with some fancy knitting, who must in her youth have been almost a counterpart o£ Effie herself. The same large, brown, trustful, liquid eyes ; the same delicate little nose, with ever so faint a curve upwards just above the nostrils; and the smooth, olivetinted skin, alike in aunt and niece were very striking. But on the woman's face lay the shadow of a great abiding sorrow ; and on the girl's the freshness and beauty of her lovely dawn.

" You see what I have brought for you madame," she said playfully, going up to the~ fnvalid in the easy chair and kneeling down on the rug before her. " Aren't they sweet 1 " and she held her nosegay to her aunt's face.

" You extravagant little one 1 " replied Mrs bmith, with -a slight foreign accent. " Now, my Effie, you have sold your fan, and spent the money you have earned on me — I shall scold."

She smoothed back Effie's brown hair, however, as she spoke, and laid her lips on the unwrjnkled brow.

" Look, I am going to pin a button-hole in your shawl," said Effie, in her bright girlish way, searching for a pin about the front of her own dress. "Won't you be smart! Cousin Rachel won't know you when she comes."

"But I do not like you to spend your money on me, my dear."

"Oh! nonsense. Aunt Therese, what time is cousin Rachel coming to-day. I want to go out for half an hour."

" Don't mind Rachel, then, dear ; go when it suits you."

" May I ? Well, then, I'll go directly ; at least in a few minutes," she added ; and as she spoke she went to one of the windows of the room, and stood watching there; she was waiting until the visitor in the back parlour took his departure.

And presently, with his head not carried quite so high as usual, and poorer by five hundred pounds, for which he had just drawn a cheque in favour of Luke Smith, Sir William Harley was seen by Effie to leave the butcher's shop bejow, and he soon disappeared in the crowd down the street. But though Sir William had pulled himself together, and resumed his ordinary erect bearing by the time he reached Marble Arch, his skeleton still jogged by his side, and never had this persistent companion appeared in more unpleasant and aggressive form to Sir William's mind than at this moment. 1

In the meanwhib, as soon as he was quite out of sight, Effie Dorrer ran up to her own room, which was on the flat above the sitting room, for the purpose of changing' her dress to go out.

A^smart little maiden this, in her brown cloth suit trimmed with plush of the same colour, and her plush cape and hat all to match, when she was ready to start on her errand. This errand really was to take the fan that she had been finishing when Sir William interrupted her to a certain shop at the beginning of Oxford street, the owner of which had promised to exhibit it in the window for her.

Effie, who was net a little proud of her performance, soon reached this shop, carrying her neat parcel in her small tan-clad hand. She was such a pretty girl that many a man turned to look after the sweet, olivetinted face under the brown plush hat. Bat Effie was very innocent, and very young. She walked quickly on, and heeded no admiring glances. Then, when she reached the shop, she found the wife of its owner, a rather graceful looking foreigner, talking to two tall young Englishmen who were discussing the merits of some curious beads which were for sale, and whose nationality they were disputing.

As Effie went in, the young men turned round, and naturally supposing she was another customer, they moved aside to allow Madame Rica to attend to the lady.

Madame Eica, however, looked at the pretty girl, smiled and nodded, but went on praising her beads. "We shall wait until you see what the joung lady requires, Madame Rica," said Captain Fred Harley (for Fred . was one of these young men, and Jack Munstere the other), and already Fied had noticed the charminc face of the new comer.

" Oh ! she can wait," said Madame Rica, with a little shrug and another smile. " Mademoiselle Effie is not a customer ; she has a pretty taste ; she paints the faDS — I suppose you gentleman do not want- the fans ?"' And she gave a little laugh.

"But I do want a fan," answered Jack Munsters, who also had been admiring the blushing young face of the pretty girl. "I want a fan for Prissy King, Fred — perhaps the young lady would be good enough "

"Show the gentleman your fan, Mademoiselle Effie," said Madame Rica, good naturedly; and as Effie, with her natural graceful little manner, unfastened the string / of her parcel, Fred Harley (who was young and susceptible) cama to .the conclusion

he had never before seen, so lovely a creature. . . The fan was very pretty ; white silk, and paintedwith a delicate touch and a refined taste. It was but a spray of wild roses, but . there was true artistic feeliug displayed in the arrangement of the simple flowers. "It is charming," said Jack. " May Ibe permitted to purchase it ?" "I leave that part to Madame Rica," 1 answered Effie Dorrer, in such a sweetlytoned voice, and with such modest grace, that Fred Harley felt he had met his fate ! "Oh I you may buy I" said Madame Rica, gaily. "It is a pretty taste, and a pretty painter, eh 1 Well, I shall ask one pound for the fan." .

" And I shall have great pleasure in paying it," smiled John Munsters, laying a sovereign in madame's supple palm. "My little friend— the gill I mean it for— will be charmed, I am sure, mademoiselle, with your work."

"And could you paint me one?" asked Fred Harley oagerly. " Paint me a replica of this."

"I could paint a replica if you wish," answered Effie Dorrer, looking with her half timid, half trustful eyes in the young soldier's good looking face. " But would you not like something fresh 1 " "I shall leave it to your taste," smiled Fred; "but when could you have it done ? "

" Oh, in a day or two— shall we say next Tuesday 1 " " Then I shall call here for it, if that will , toe convenient to you, next Tuesday," continued Fred. " What time vrould suit you •best to meet me here 1 "

II Ah, but mademoiselle can leave it in my •charge," said Madame Rica, archly, quite seeing the drift of the artful Fred, and being very much amused by it. But Fred Harley was not going to be out-manoeuvred by Madame Rica. 11 1 intend to present this fan to my sister," he said, " and I may want it altered a little to suit her taste ; so, if it would not be very much trouble to mademoiselle to meet me here " And he looked inquiringly at Effic Dorrer's charming face. " It, will be no trouble," answered the young girl frankly. " Will this time be convenient to you on Tuesday morning ? " "Perfectly convenient," answered Fred Hariey, bowing low. Then, while Jack Munsters was paying madame for some of the foreign beads which he had bought, Fred said a few more words to the lovely girl who had caught his somewhat fickle fancy; only words about art, however, and such as both Jack and Madame Rica were quite welcome to listen to, if they had cared to do so.

The two young men then left the shop together, but the moment they were outside the door, Fred Harley began expressing the most violent admiration for the young fan painter. " I am certain she is a lady, quite a lady," said Fred, enthusiastically. " Let us stay looking into this window, Jack, until she leaves Madame Rica's. J must see where she goes. I must know where she lives." "Is it quite fair to the girl to follow her thus, Fred?" " What harm can there be in it 1 _ She will never see us; and even if she did, what pretty girl won't forgive the effect of her own charms ? "

Jack laughed, and to please Fred Harley waited until the slender brown figure, for which Fred was eagerly watching, emerged from Madame Rica's shop and turned to. the right, and walked straight on in the direction of the Marble Arch. Then Effie Dorrer wended her way from thence to Edgware road, and, followed at a little distance by the two friends, proceeded to the butcher's shop over which the name of Luke Smith appeared.

It was rather a shock, certainly, to Fred Harley, to see her enter a butcher's shop, but he consoled himself by thinking she was going to buy some little luxury, perhaps, for an invalid parent, with the money she had made by selling her graceful handiwork. "Poor girl," said Fred, sentimentally, "I've no doubt she has some sick mother that she spends her little earnings on. There are lots officers' widows, d'ye know, Jack, half-starving, I believe ; and parsons too. I bet any money that lovely girl is the daughter of some poor professional man." " Very likely," answered Jack, rather indifferently, for he was getting somewhat tired of the subject. Presently they passed the shop into which Effie had entered, and Fred peered eagerly in. But the slender brown figure was not to be seen. Then Fred Harley insisted upon going int« the shop himself, rather to the disgust of Jack. Fred had never been in a butchers shop before, and as the big burly Luke Smith advanced to serve him and inquired what he wanted, Fred (to Jack's amusement) looked hopelessly at the great flanks of beef and whole sheep and lambs. "I'll take some beef," at last decided Fred. "A sirloin, sir, or ribs?" inquired the butcher.

A horrid vision of a huge joint being left on his hands and not knowing what to do with it, at this moment flashed across the mind of Fred.

" A small piece," he said weakly. ••Steak," suggested Jack, in an undertone, by way of helping his friend out of his dilemma.

Fred eagerly caught at this idea. "Steak," he said; and a few minutes later he found himself the unhappy possessor of an enormous piece of raw beefsteak, which the butcher proceeded deliberately to wrap in a greasy-looking newspaper, and presented it to Fred.

» Or shall I send it for you, sir ?" inquired Mr Luke Smith, politely, perhaps observing the shrinking horror in tne fine gentleman's face.

"I shall call," said Fred desperately. " Put it aside, and I shall call for it by-and-bye;" and having paid for it, he turned to leave the shop, without having seen a glimpse of the lovely fan-painter." " She must live here," whispered Jack, a little maliciously, as they left the shop together; "she is no doubt the butcher's daughter; I thought I saw a likeness."

This idea was absolutely disgusting to Fred. To think the delicate little face that had bewitched him belonged to a butcher's daughter was too trying. Anything but

that 1 «.» She may. lodge at Mr-Luke Smith's," he presently said, hopefully; and after this he bore Jack's chaff 'on the subject fairly well. And Jack did not spare 1 him ; it became a joke between these two, the purchase of the beefsteak, and following the butcher's lovely daughter (so Jack called her) to Edgeware road.

But after Jack Munsters left for the North, Fred Harley did not forget the sudden and violent admiration which he had conceived for Effie Dorrer. He used sometimes to walk up and down Edgeware road, keeping on the opposite side to Luke Smith's shop, and one day he was rewarded by seeing the pretty girl he was looking for tending some flowers at one of the upper storeys of the house.

And she looked up as Fred repassed the bouse, and he thought she recognised him. He was certain at least that over her lovely olive-tinted skin there stole a deep blush, and this blush somehow made Fred Harley feel very happy. After this he went again and again to the unfashionable quarter, and gazed up at the muslin-shaded windows above the butcher's shop. And sometimes he fancied he saw a slender shadow behind the ' curtains. Perhaps she, too, was watching for him, though she was too shy to appear, the young man ardently thought. At all events it gave a fresh interest and excitement to his life ; and he looked eagerly forward to the day when he was to keep his appointment and again meet Effie at -Madame Rica's.

(To ie continued).