ANDROMEDA:

Otago Witness, Issue 2389, 14 December 1899, Page 49

ANDROMEDA:

A TALE OF THE GREAT RIVER.

By ROBERT BUCHANAN,

Author of "God and the Man," "The

Shadow of the Sword," "Stormy Waters," "The Wedding Ring," "Father Anthony," "Lady Kilpatrick," etc., etc.

COPYRIGHT.

Chapters I and II. — On the Canvey Island, at the mouth of the Thames, two artists, Charles Somerset and William E. Bufton, A.H.A., are enjoying a holiday, sketching and idling. They are staying at the inn called the Lobster Smack, kept by an old man named Job Endoll and his wife. They pine for young female society, and they hear from Mr Endell some mysterious hints about a young girl coming to the Smack. One evening, Somerset, sitting on the sea wall, saw a female figure swimming gracefully in the water.

Chapters II (continued) and 111. — Bufton is amused at the enthusiasm displayed by his young companion when he tells him of hie vision of Aphrodite, the goddess of Canvey Island. In a. day or twe Somerset is enchanted by tho appearance of his goddess, who comes as an attendant waitress at the Smack. Mrs Endell reseats any attention paid to the girl, who is called Andromeda, or "Anniedromedy, ' to use the local ter"i. He improves his acquaintance with her.

CHAPTER IV.— THE MAID OF CANVEY ISLAND.

AVING Somerset to gaze after her admiringly from the deck of the little" yawl, the girl rowed rapidly across the pool or basin in the direction of the river. The tide was running out, and the boat needed little or no propelling as soon as it

was caught in the current. I.i a few minutes it swept through the narrow passage communicating with the Thames, while the girl, only leaning on her oars, just touched the water with the blades from time to time to keep the little craft steady. Tiie sun was blazing down on the great river. Vessels of all kinds were coming and going — barges drifting down with the ti( r e, brown-sailed fishing boats creeping far i*way. along the Keotis^ shore,

homeward-bound vessels crawling slowly in the wake of fussy little tugs. The water was low, and along the shores of Canvey Island stretched banks of sand and mud. crowned here and there with red iron beacons, and haunted by flocks of screaming gulls. Out towards the middle of the stream large buoys marked the deep channel.

Keeping near to the shore in the shallows, Annie suffered herself to be drifted slowly along in the slack ebb, until she reached the grass-covered promontory, at the end of which stood a beacon, a sort of iron cage, the favourite resting-place of black-backed gulls and kittiwakes. Here she paused, and running the boat on a dry spot, half mud, half shingle, drew it well out ot the water and secured it to the shore bj r throwing out the anchor. A minute later she stood under the beacon, shading her eyes with her hands and gazing out towards the distant Nore.

Beyond Canvey Island the Thames spiead out into a broad estuary, mingling its waters with those of the distant sea. To the left— that is to say, to the northeast, lay the cliffs and low headlands of Essex, with the red-tiled fishing village of Leigh, facing muddy flats and deep pools sprinkled with shrimping boats, some floating at anchor, others stranded on the mud ; to. the right, dimly visible through the twinkling bar.ks of heat, were the hills of Kent and the mouth of the river, with tht naval station of Sheerne&s ; further away to the south were the island of Sheppey and the little, low-lying town of Herne Bay; while due eastward, right before her eyes, was the great estuary itself, covered with vessels of all sizes and degrees, and rippling with a breeze blowing fresh from the English Channel.

It was a beautiful scene, full of life and motion, yet very still and silent, like a picture seen in a mirror. No sound disturbed the air, save now and then the cry of a seagull or the sharp whistle of a passing curlew.

Quietly and earnestly, like one seeking for some, sign or expecting some message, tho girl watched the great waters, glanced from shore to shore, from ship to ship, and as she gazed her face grew troubled, angry even, and her black eyebroivs were knitted ominously over her eager eyes. Then, with a.\ impatient gesture of the arms and a shrug of the shoulders she threw herself down on the thin grass at the foot of the beacon, and resting her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands, gazed sullenly at vacancy. Her face grew darker and angrier. From time to time she sighed heavily as if in pain, and as her eyes fell again on the dark waters and the dreary flats of the island surrounding her, they grew dim with unshed tears.

It was late in the afternoon when she reappeared at the inn. The two artists, had wandered off together for a stroll about the island, the inn-keeper -was in the bar a.tteirding to two or thre£ stray customers who had landed from a barge, and his wife was alone in the kitchen. The girl came in slowly and wearily, and without a- word threw herself down on a stool by the kitchen fire. Seated there, she rested her chin on her, hand and gazed into vacancy, with the same dull expression she had worn out of doors. The old woman ■watched her quietly, and then, breaking the oppressive silence, said sharply: "Where have you been, Anniedromedy? I've been waiting for you all day to help me to tidy up." Then, as the girl returned no answer, she continued ; " It's about time, ain't it, you made yourself a bi k more useful? Young gels like you wasn't born to idle and waste their time awpy, and I'm sick and tired of your goings on this year past."

" You ain't more sick and tired than I am," cried the girl^ with a flash of her dark eyes. " I hate the place ! I hate myself ! I'd sooner drown myself than live on here like this." " Now don't you be a fool," returned Mrs Endell, a little cowed by the angry rejoinder. " Don't you forget, neither, which side your bread's buttered, miss ! We promised to keep you till he come back, and we've done it, and see as no harm came to you ; but you owe us morn two years' board and lodging, and the Lord knows whether we'll ever be paid. Joe thinks never; and look you, we're poor folk and can't afford to keep a fine lady about the house."

" A pretty lad}'," cried the girl, with a bitter laugh ; but she added, rising to her feet and still looking down at the fire, " You needn't be frightened, though. I shan't stop here much longer!" " Now look you here, Anniedromedy.''' The girl wheeled round fiercely as if stung. " Don't call me that," she cried. "It's your name, ain't it?" asked the old Wirrpn.

" I don't know and I don't care ; but I hate it and I won't be called by it. Call me Annie, if you like, but not the other. It makes me sick ! It makes me remember ! It makes me "

She paused suddenly, shuddering and hugging herself with her arms as if chilled. Her face had grown quite grey and colourless.

" Come, come," said Mrs Endell, more gentiy, walking to her and placing a hand upon her arm " Don't be contrary, my gel ! You know you've got a friend in me as long as you behave respectable and do what's told you. Just you be patient and bide a bit. Praps things will right themselves before long. Praps he'll come back, and then " Darker and darker grew the girl's face. " He'll never come back," she said, " and I'ir glad of it."

" Don't say that, my lass. He's the best friend you ever had."

" Friend or no friend," was the answer, " he's gone for evermore. If he was living he'd have been home long ere this. It's four leng years now, mother, since he went away, saying he'd be back in a year. I've waited long enough, and now I'm tired of waiting, so I'm going away, first chance I get, to seek my fortune." The old woman smiled pityingly, and shook her head.

"No, no," she cried, "you ain't going away yet a while. Time enough ior that when I bid you pack; and it ain't come to that yet, if you behave yourself and maka yourself useful. Don't you forget that I've promised to look after you and keep you out of trouble. Fortune, indeed! GeLf don't make their fortunes so easy; andl even if they did, you ain't free to do as. you please."

" I am free," cried Annie. " You can' 6 keep me if I want to go !"

"I can, though," replied Mrs Endell, " and the law will uphold me ! You're left' under my care till the man that owns you comes back to claim you," she added more gently, seeing that the girl was about to aetort passionately,- "Come, lass, don't bo foolish ! You know well enough you've got a good home" here, and have always been used kindly I've held my tongue, and so has Job, about you. Folk think you're a free, unbespoken gel and neither wife nor widdy, though the Lord knows you're one of them two, and maybe both. If they knew what we know, they'd be talking; and we don't want that." Her voice sank to a whisper as she spoke, and when the girl answered her it was' also in hushed tones, almost of entreaty. ; For some time they conversed thus together,, and presently the girl grew quieter and more resigned, until at last, quite subdued, to the other's wiil, she began to assist her r in the house work.

Liter on in the day, while Somerset and' Bufton were still absent, Annie entered the." rooms upstairs. The bedroom occupied, by Bufton resembled its owner, in its carelessly.' arranged and untidy character: clothes, books, and artistic materials were scattered about everywhere, and pipes and cigar boxes cc\ ci ed the mantelpiece. Quite different was the room adjoining where Somerset slumbered nightly. The contents of an elegant dress* ing-bag were arranged before the mirror, ivory-backed brushes, with the monogram.' "C. 5.," bottles of scent, packets of per-, fumed soap. Everything was daintily arid neatly arranged, for Somerset was an elegant and a luxurious young gentleman. On. a small table near the window were some books, tastefully bound, and among them, in a double frame of yellow plush, two photographs — one of Somerset himself in boating flannels, the other of a young lady. '

Full of feminine curiosity Annie exa« mined the photographs very carefully. Thab of Somerset was a capital likeness, with tha happy open face and bold eyes of the original. While she looked at it it seemed, to smile' at her roguishly, as the man himself had done, and in answer to the smile h?r own eyes sparkled and her face Hushed eagerly. Then she turned to th© other picture, and her expression grew less amiable. The young lady was . certainly very pretty, a blonde with gentle eyes and golden hair. ' '

, ' She was wondering to herself who thft young .lady could be, the young- man's suited or his sw.eethearfc, when she heard voices below, and then someone running , lightly] tip the stairs. She had just time to pub down the photograph frame, and to reachv tha door, when she found herself face to( face - with the tenant of the room. Ha drew asicle, smiling, to let her pass, which, she did with her face burning; her eyes' averted. He laughed ; she did nob turn. Then he called to her in his clear, boyish' voice, and she turned and looked, him in the face. "Would you mind asking Mrs Endell, 1 * he said, "to send me up some warm water?" ■ ■ She nodded and turned to go. " Stop a bit," he continued, laughing*. "You needn't be in such a hurry!" Then/ as she hesitated, he continued, "It way rather a shame of you to leave me perche<i out yonder on the yawl. 1 thought you would have come back to fetch me and take me ashore! As it Avas I had to waift tlere till I was relieved by a sweep of a bargee !" There was something so frank and so gcod-humoured in his nature, that it was impossible to be angry with him for hiai impudence, or to refrain from answering hij smile. Their eyes met, and Annie vanished; carrying the message to the kitchen. Thai oM woman received it with an . angry tosi of the head. " Sit ye down there," she said. "IK take Mr Somerset his hot water." ; I Annie smiled and shrugged her shoulders, Her fit of gloom seemed to have quite passed awaj'. She had heard the first note of the charmer, and was quite in the mood to wait and listen for more. Several days passed, during which th& young man saw little or nothing of hia new acquaintance. When they did meet, Mrs Endell was always close at hand, jealously watching her-charge and spiriting her away at the slightest overtures at conversation. Somerset, however, being a past master in this sort of business, waa* only biding his time. He was determined! to know more of Annie, or Anniedromedy," a3 the town folk called her, and he was not easily beaten or daunted. The chance he was waiting, for came at last, early one morning, about a week after their first meeting. He had wandered away to take his early plunge and was turning back to the inn for breakfa&t, when he saw the girl in tha . distance, her face turned inland in the direction of Benfleet. She was strolling slowly and carelessly along, carrying on her arm a small basket, and the road she followed wound right across the island, to a farm which was situated a couple of miles away, near to the Benfleet woods.' Without a moment's hesitation Somerset! gave chase, just keeping his quarry in sight till the inn was hidden behind "th« sea wall, and there was no likelihood o(, espionage in that direction. Then h^ spurted, and, being a swift pedestrian, soon, overtook the girl. She heard his footsteps behind her, looked back, saw him ajw' preaching, and walked quickly away. In another minute he was close to her* raising his hat politely, and giving hen "good morning." With head averted sh« returned his greeting, and he noticed witK. the keen eye of a sportsman that her white neck was suffused with crimson, a sign, ttiftw

ohewas blushing nervously, or (as it might be) flushing indignantly. " May I ask where you are going," he inquired, keeping pace Avith her as she tarried on.

She ansAvered that she was going on an Brrand to the farm.

" May I accompany you ?" he asked, with his most insinuating smile. She turned and looked him full in the face. The blush, if blush it had been, was gone, and her gaze Avas quite calm. and selfpossessed. "I'd rather you didn't," she said with decision.

"I'd rather I did," he returned, not in >he least abashed. "You see," he continued easily, "I've been longing to have a talk with you ever since Aye first met. It's so aAvfully dull doAvn here with no one to talk to, and I AA^as • thinking of packing up my traps and returning to London, when you appeared, like a bit of neAv sunshine. ' She did not reply, but her pace slackened, >nd her face greAV thoughtful, as they Hi oiled on side by side. "Do you come from London, sir?" she >p.ked presently. "Indeed I do," was the reply. "From ths part of it they call Bohemia— perhaps ypu've heard of it?" "No," she answered, with a shake of the head. " I've only been in London once, and that Avas years since, Avhen I was little. If.ye often thought I'd like to live there." "" "I don't think you'd like it," said Somerset. "To a country girl like you " To his surprise she interrupted him impatiently, saying, '" I ain't a country girl ; I hate the country ! I hate Canvey Island most of all. It's rjght enough, perhaps, in summer time, but in winter when the fogs come, and the sun scarcely shines, aud there's nothing to look at but the black marshes and the river, and the rainy sea out yonder, it's like being dead and buried."

" Have you liA'ed here all your life?" "Not much!" cried Annie, Avith a lO9S of the head. " I came here four years ago, and I've never left it, except to stop noAV and then Avith the young ladies at Raylei gh." "And before you came here?" Her face darkened, her black eyebrows were contracted, Avhile the old look of desolation came into her face. She made no answer.

"If you Avere not born in^the country," he persisted, "where were you born? Not \n London, surely?" " You Avant to know too much," she said, turning her face away, and speaking to him over her shoulder.

" I am raihcr inquisitive," he returned, " You see you interest me. Such i pretty girl as you " Her eyes flashed at him, as she exslaimcd: ' r UW you're chaffing! I'm not fool irough to think I'm pretty — and even if I was it wouldn't matter." j " Beauty always matters, and I can assure'you, speaking purely as an artist, that I'm neither chaffing nor flattering. You're as handsome as your namesake must have teen, I assure you !" "My namesake? Who's she?" " Why, Andromeda — the Greeks maiden who Avas rescued by Perseus from the monster. The name is rather an unusual one, and I should like to knoAV lioav you got it." "My name's Annie!" returned the girl, emphatically, "I hate the other."

" Why?" " Became !" Avas the irreleA'ant reply, emphasised by compressed lips and flashing tyes. They wandered on side by side. Presently Annie paused, glancing bad. in the direction of the inn.

" I think you'd best go," she said. " Your bieat fast's waiting, sir." " I'm not hungry," he replied ; " and if yo'i don't mind I'd rather keep you com-pei-y."

" Oh, I don't mind," said Annie, Avith a little shrug of ths shoulders. " But if they sea you and me Avalking together they'll bu scolding. Mrs Endell doesn't like me to talk to gentlemen !"

"Whom does she expect you to talk to?" denr anded Somerset, laughing. " Only to waterside characters and bargees? Besides, what right has she to shut you out from civilised society and polite conversation like mine? That's the Avorst of these superannuated country folk ! They think a man can't look at a young person of the other 6ex without making love to her." Their eyes met, and the girl laughed. " Some men can't," she said ; "or at least pretending." " I'm different !"

"I'm sure I hope so, sir," she returned, ■simply. " Lovemaking's all nonsense ! Folk txw be friendly without that, and Tin sure it's a pleasure to talk now aud then to lomsone Avho looks like a Christian."

With talk like this they beguiled the tvay, and presently came in sight of the farm for which Annie was bound — a siiiall, low-lying cluster of buildings situated in the centre of marshy fields, on which forloiii cattle were amphibiously grazing. Annie's restrain and embarrassment had vanished, and she talked quite freely about herself and he* solitary life, only darkening and reeuming something of her former gloomy manner when Somerset questioned her about her birth and antecedents.

Close to the farm they parted, the girl refusing to accept his escort any further. More puzzled than-evei about his new acquaintance, Somerset strolled back to the Lobster Smack for breakfast.

CHAPTER V.— THOUGH CONVERBA-

TIONAL, IS RETROSPECTIVE

Naturally of an inquiring mind, and being peculiarly interested in the person whom he had encountered under such romantic circumstances, Somerset determined to go to the fountain-head for information. That fountain-head was Job Endell, and the way to make it flow freely was to pour ardent spirits into it. So that very day Somerset beguiled the old sea-dog on board the little yawj, took him down to the tiny cabin .where there was a supply of excellent iwhisky, and when, under the influence of

several drams, Job was beginning to grow talkative, prepared for his cross-examina-tion

" You don't, keep stuff like that ashore, Jcb?" he said, refilling Job's glass from a fast-ebbing bottle.

Job grinned and shook his head,

"We've no call for it, mister," lie replied. " The customers who come our aa ay ain't of much account, and don't know good drink from bad. It's a poor place, Canvey Island, a rotteD, poor place, and if it wasn't for stray gentry like you and Mister Bufton 'twouldn't hardly be worth my while to keep the place going. Lord, when I think of the times I've had, and the things I've seen, afore I settled down in tfni* 'ere wilderness, I feel inclined to curse and swear."

" I don'jfc wonder." "Why just look round you, sir. What is there to see, year's end to year's end? Only mud and sand and brakish water: the marshes this side, the river that side, and the ships a-going past like ghosts, outward and homeward bound. Shut up with the old woman like a toad in the hole, and me still hale and hearty, as fond of a bit of fun as ever."

"No doubt it's dismal enough, '' said Somerset, lighting a ciga.. "If you find it co, what must that young girl think, -,t ho lives with you and the mistress?"'

The old man shrugged his shoulders. "Well, you see she' 3 only a gel, and gels is different," he remarked, then with a 'wink of the eye, and a crafty look, he added: "I see you've taker notice on her, Mr Somerset P

" Of cour?e I have," said Somerset, smiling. " Petticoats are scarce hereabouts, you see!"

Job leant forward with his hands on his krees, and grinned significantly.

" You'd better not let the old woman see yon looking at her! She locks arter her wonderful sharp does the old woman, aud so does I for that matter, for a bargain's a bargain. You see, sir, Anniedromedy's under our care, and we've got to see no liaiin comes to her." "A illation, I suppose." " Well, she's a sort of a kind of a relation of the missus, not of mine."

"Lived with you long?"

" Four or five years on and off,"' answered Job, dryly. "If you'll promise to keep it dark, I don't mind telling you a secret. Well, it's this way ! Anniedromedy's a sort of a-orphan — without father or mother. What's more, no one knows, and no one ever will know, what stock she sprung from. Shs was born out there at sea, and they christened her arter the ship on which she was found. Anniedromedy was the ship's name, and Anniedromedy's -hers ; though we calls her Annie for short, •as you're aweer." •

" What you tell me is awfully- interesting," said Somerset, disguising his eager curiosity under a' careless languor. tJ . " Fill lip your glass." "No, no, I've had* enough, mister)"' returned Endell, chuckling. "Nonsense! A seasoned old salt like you ! Why there isn't a headache in a whole hogshead of this whisky !" " Well, just another thimblefull, and then I must get ashore. You was asking about Anniedromedy, and wondering no doiibt Low she came to Canvey Island ?-Well, I'll tell ye ; but mind, not a word of this to the old woman."

"■Of course not!"

"Nigh on 20 years ago, when I was still going afloat, and the missus was keeping a lodging-house for sailors over there in Gravesend, a relation of hers, a sort of second cousin, one Matt Watson, come home arter a long woyage. He'd been to South Ameriky, and round tho Horn, and then coming back, had been shipwrecked on the shores of Patagonia. He was only a lad then, was Matt, but a born devil as ever you sec, fearing ncthink under the sun, as black as a Cuban, and as ready as any furringner for to craw a knife." "Well?"

"Well, sir, this 'ere Matt Watson had a sister — a single woman, living along shove at Northfleet, and this sister o' course vas a pal of my missus's. One morning, juM; arter Matt come back, the missus goes over to make a call and she finds Matt's sister, Liza was her name — Liza Watson — a-sitting by the fire and missing a kid — a little, black-eyed babby about a year old. ' Lord save us,' said the missus, 'who's kid's that? Not yourn?' Liza laughed, , ' No, it ain't mine,' she says, ' it's Matt's !' ' Then,' says my missus, ' you don't mean to tell me as Matt is married !' Liza, she laughed again. ' No, he ain't married,' she said, " but all the same this is Matt's kid, and I'm a-goin' to keep it for 'him!' Noav, I needn't tell you, sir, for you knows my old woman, that fche was allus werry particular! She bridles up and cries out that Matt ought to be ashamed of hisfcelf, and at that moment in comes Matt hibself, grinning like a monkey." " Go on," said Somerset, " 1 begin to understand. The child was "

" Jest you give me time," f aid Endell, with a tipsy chuckle. "Ir comes Matt, swaggering, his eyes like coals, his black hair tumbling over his head, his sailor's knife in his belt — and when the missus turned on him and began abusing of him he laughed and smacked her on the shoulder. Then it come out that the young devil had sailed back on a ship loaded with cattle from South Amerikv, and carrying a few steerage passengers homeward bound ; and among them passengers wa.s a youug woman who shipped at Buenos Ayres, who was dreadfu) bad with some sort of a fever, and who died one night, giving birth to that kid. No one knoweel who she was, except that her name was entered in the ship's books, as ' Mary Costello,' nor where she come from, or where she was going, and she'd only a bundle with her with a few clothes and no money; and when they sewed her up in her canvas shroud and dropped her over the vessel's side, there was a hend of her. But the puzzle was' what to do with the babe she'd left behind her."

"A little girl?"

" Right you are, a little gel 7 and to cut a long story short that little gel was Anniedromedy." "I guessed as much."-

" They was a rough lot aboard that ship, but they had the little 'un christened, and the name tfiey give her was the name of the ship as she was bom on, the Annie-dic-inedy. " Another poor woman nussed her and looked arter her till they come to Plymcuth, and landed the cargo and passengers and paid off the crew. Then the puzzle was what to do with the little 'un. She'd 113 home, and no friends, and no belongings, d'ye see? — and Lord knows what would ha' become on her if that wild devil, Matt Wnt&on, hadn't up and volunteered to take lu-r and adopt her and give her to his sistt.*, to be brung up by hand!" " He did that?"' exclaimed Somerset. " He must have been a good fellow !" "Good in his 'art, sir, good in his 'art!"

in mured the old man, patronisingly.

Allus free with his pay, and kindly to v. omen-folk, though a savage chap when he losl his temper among men. Now you'll never guess what first drawed him to the little kid, and made him take the fancy to bring her up. It was this, Mister Somerset. Arter the poor mother was put overboard, and they was looking at the little gel, one of the women larfs and says, ' Why, she's the very moral of yourself, mate, an" you might ta' been her daddy!' And sure enough 'tAvas so; for she'd black eyes like his, and blacker eyebrows, and she was dark and wild-'ooking as a little imp o' the sea. Well, somehow that pleased Matt, and he took to the kid from that minute forrard, and from that day to this he's been her best friend."

The old man rose a little unsteadily, and muttering something to himself about the " old woman," made his way on deck. Somerset followed, his curiosity only whetted by what he had heard. The tide was out, and the little yawl had taken the ground, so that it w T as just possible fo scramble over her side and walk ashore across the mud.

" Finish your story ! " said Somerset, as they stood on deck. "What became of the child afterwards? "

" Why she grew and she grew," answered the old man, '" till she come to be what you now see her ! Liza Watson reared her and Matt he paid the piper, coming and going from his work ab sea. Then, close on five year ago, when Anniedromedy was a dark slip of a gel, Liza died sudden, and Matt, he come ashore arter a long voyage the werry day o' the burying, and finds Anniedromedy a-crying in the empty lodging. Just about that time, I'd inwested my savings in the ijobster Smack, and one day -as I was a-sitting at the door smoking my pipe, up comes Matt Watson • and the gel 'lollering him, looking full o' -trouble. He nods to me and he goes in and, talks to the missus. They was a long time talking together, and when I went in to look arter them I found 'twas all settled that Anniedromedy was to stay under -my old woman's care, "while Matt went back to sea."

"Then you were not consulted?"

- " Oh, yes, I was," answered Endell, with a -wink, ".when it come to business. We couldn't afford to board and lodge a stranger ior -nothing, and I settled the terms, money down. But mind you, Matt didn't go afloat again for nearly a year arter that, and afore he sailed away there was rum doings down here and up in Gravesend. Don't ax me any more, though, for I ain't a-going to tell you. All the rest consarns only Anniedromedy, myself, and my old woman."

He was scrambling over the yacht's side when Somerset detained him by placing his hand on his shoulder. ""Only one question, Job. Where's that sailor fellow now?"

Jindell looked up with a doleful shake of the head.

" That's the puzzle, mister," he replied. " It's over four years since he went awaj' on his last voyage, and since that time we've heard no word ,on him. I doubt he's dead and drownded, though the missus she allus holds he'll come back. I wish he would, and pay me what he owes me ! Meantime you see, here's the gel on our hands, and Lord knows what we're to do with her, seeing she's neither kith nor kin of ours. !> - -

Away he floundered across the mud, leaving Somerset thoroughly puzzled and amazed.

The young man had tapped the fountain indeed, and discovered nearly everything he desired to -know. When all was told, however, Annie herself remained as great a mystery as ever! The child of an unknown woman, born miserably on shipboard, christened unconventionally on the deep sea, adopted by a savage sailor lad, brought home to England like a monkey or a parrot to be reared in a lodging along shore, and then finally left, a maiden all forlorn, on Canvey Island ! It was a strange tale, rendered still stranger and more wonderful by the singular beauty of the girl.

The reader has doubtless gathered by this time that Somerset was a highly volatile young gentleman, prone to follow his own amusement with a somewhat reckless disregard of consequences. In following and opening up an acquaintance with the young girl of the inn his idea was merely to pass the time and to enjoy a little innocent flirtation. It never occurred to him that the consequences might be serious ; for, to do him justice, he was not vain enough to fancy himself a lady-killer or a man capable of awakening a grand passion. Nor was he, with all his frivolity, addicted to coarse and degrading amours. He was simply a good-looking and somewhat feather-brained young fellow, who took life lightly, and knew little or nothing of its stormier emotions ; romantic, of course, in an easy-hearted way, but very little in cliued to lose his heart irretrievably. In fact, if the truth must be told, his matrimonial arrangements had beer already made for him in connection with a near branch of his own family, and he had no intention whatever, at the time of which we are writing, of disturbing those arrangements in any way. Nevertheless, little as he suspeoted the danger, he was playing with fire. He happened to come into the girl's life at the very moment when she was most eager 'and willing to give such a visitor welcome, and ■whatever he might be. she was made of

perilous stuff, to its inmost essence combustible.

Like most young girls brought up in solitude, she had been dreaming for many a 'day of a fairy prince; young, ardent, adorable, who would awaken her with a kiss, and lead her aAvay into the world of •happy fable.

The moment she first saw Somerset her •heart leapt up to give him greeting, for nothing quite so sunny had hitherto crossed her path. His bold advances to her completed the conquest. Her passionate nature, long in revolt against its siirronndings, began to stir and quicken wi Unrulier. Time alone could decide Avhether the event for which she had longed was to be fatal to her or beneficent. All she yet realised Avas that the Avonder-Avorking moment had arrived !

(To be continued.)