CHAPTER XVII.—THE MAN FROM THE SEA.

Otago Witness, Issue 2399, 22 February 1900, Page 53

CHAPTER XVII.— THE MAN FROM THE SEA.

After parting with her lover at the house door, and making an appointment with him for the next afternoon, Annie was in the seventh heaven of delight ; all .he nervous apprehension s>he had once felt had departed in the bright blaze of her new happiness. She hugged and kissed her friend, the little dressmaker, she laughed, she sang aloud, with a buoyancy and abandon that fairly astounded Mrs Major Garthorne ; and that evening at the dinner table, surrounded by the admiring members of the Tenterden circle, and dressed like a duchess in the prettiest evening costume *she possessed, she fairly gave way to merriment. When she retired to rest her heart was still hounding joyfully, as if to the sound of Avedding bells. The next morning she rose early and after breakfast was over put on a sealskin jacket and hat to match, and announced that she was going out for a walk. Bess volunteered to accompany her, while Mrs Garthorne suggested that they should go together in the carriage, but Annie informed them with a happy smile that she would rather go forth alone. " I want to be by myself," she said. " I don't want anyone to talk to, or to talk to me ! I shall be back to lunch, if I'm not run away with or run over." So saying, she tripped downstairs and into the street. It was fine clear wintry weather, and the sun was shining almost brightly through the clouds of Bloomsbury, as she made her way northward, reached the Euston road, and then turned westward in the direction of Regent's Park. Instinct guided her in that direction, for she was very fond of the Park, but on the present occasion she was too fuU of her own pleasant thoughts to mind much S'.hith.er site was going. All she knew was

that the day was fine, her spirits high", the blood flowing gladly in her "*eins. So full did the dark city seem of r. asic that it might have been alive with singing birds. (She walked with a light elastic step, asi she had walked on the lonely flats of Caavey Island. She would have sung aloud, only that she felt that if she did so the people might wonder! For the rest, she was in Dreamland ; too full of her own sweet thoughts to notice the houses or the shop*, or the clattering vehicle?, or the faces that passed by. Almost before she knew, &he had entered the Park gate, and was, wandering up the main avenue in the dhection of the Zoological Gardens. The place was very quiet. Here and there was a nmsery maid wheeling a perambulator, and here and there a few playing children. She walked on and on, and found herself at, last, after passing over the open space to the right of the Park, standing and looking at' the ornamental w ater near to the Western Gate. She sat down on a seat and mused, gazing at the water. It was sparkling in the winter sunshine, and everywhere upon ie the aquatic fowl were busy. The cry of a tame brent goose from one of the tiny i«la'.ids reminded her of Canvey, and when a pair of ducks sped quacking by, high over her head, and alighted with a 'splash on a divtant part of the lake, she was transpoi Led in imagination to the lonely flats and marshes at the mouth of the Thames. She was a girl again, amid the loneliness of sky and water ; London with it? .sights and .sounds had faded utterly away. And yet, though it was still the old life, it was different, for Heaven had opened, and something bright and beautiful, the vision of her dreams, had descended. What more did she want in all the world, now he had told her that he loved her, and had avowed in the piesence of his friends that he had chosen her to be his wife': She recalled the scene at the studio, and laughed as she thought of Burton's .stupefaction. She Lid no need to dread any change in hei* lover that might come of later knowledge, for he knew — she herself had told him — the story of her life. Remembering this, her thoughts turned back quite gently to the man who had been to her a kind of foster-father. After all, he had not destroyed her happiness ; rather, he had created it. She owed him everything, even perhaps the love of her Prince Charming; and he had done her the last supreme service of all, by passing out of her life as mysteriously as he had entered it long, long ago. The Park was almost deserted ai that early hour. So still and quiet wa<- it that she might have imagined herself seaix-l on the sea-wall at Canvey and listening to the sea. A pair of black swans cams' to the water's edge and looked at her ; she gazed at them smilingly, absorbed in her own. thoughts. So rapt was she in pleasant mediation, that she did not notice a stealthy li_rvtre moving quietly towards her over the tivass behind her seat. It had followed hei'iike a shadow from the moment when she had left the door of Tenterden's ; quiet, tenacious, like an animal pursuing "its Miarry and certain of securing it, it had cr^t behind her through the streets. Whc'i she had entered the Park, it had follow i i behind her still, at a greater distant. ,md for some minutes it had been t-iv din«watching her, partly hidden by a clump of trees. The figure of a man' in t- tilor's costume, with tattoo marks on his hands and heavy rings in his ears. The man who had seen and followed her un the pievious clay. He v. as now approaching her .»« iftly, with that curious easy motion of one who is barefooted. In another moment he was close to her side and looking down at her. She started, looked round, and met his eyes. At the same moment she heord his voice : " Annie ! Anniedromedy ! " She leapt to her feet and would have screamed, only something like a cold hand gripped her heart and seemed to stifle her. Ghastly pale, she tottered and shrank back, looking at him in horror, while he made a movement as if to take her in his arms ; then, hesitating, stood smiling awkwardly at her, his white gleaming, his black eyes full of wistful admiration. "Anniedromedy!'' he repeated. "My gel— my little gel! My little lady! "Don't ye know me? It's me — Matt Watson ' " How dark and horrible the world <_rew ! It was as if a black cloud had passed suddenly over the sun, veiling the happy lights She stood fascinated, shrinking and-shud-dering, unable to believe the evidence of her eyes ; then, with a faint gasping cry, she sank half-swooning on the seat. Something in her look, her manner, seemed to trouble him. She seemed so different, too, from the girl he had left behind him. She was so fair and delicate, so elegantly dressed. But his hesitation only lasted foi a moment. With a low laugh he threw himself on the seat by hei side, and throwing his arm round her dvew her to him. She moaned and tried to release herself, but he held her firmly. Sh« could feel his heavy breath upon her. "I've startled ye. Anniedromedy. But don't you be afeared ! It's me right enough — come home at lasL ! Come, let me lools at ye, my dear — let me look at the little gel I've made a lady on. I should ha,' knowed ye anywheres — ay, in a shipload olo l people. T knowed ye the minute I saw y< in the street ! " " Let me go ! " she cried. " Don't toucl me ! Don't speak to me ! 0 God, it can't be you ! " He released her in a moment, and sat gazing at, her with a strange wistful light '•on his dark, sun-tanned face. "It's me right enough, my gel!" he said quietly. " I thought — I thought you were dead ! " "I was near it, Anniedromedy,'' lie replied. " Many and many a long watch I la;y out yonder in Californy, and they thought once that I'd slipped my cable. But 1 thought of you a-waiting for me here in England, and I was worth a dozen dead 'uns ! My gel ! My lady ! I've come back ! I landed Wee days ago at Gravesend, and here I am ! " Horrified, fascinated, she turned her facetowards him at last, and looked at him in wondering terror. Yes, it was real.' E*

was older and more worn-looking ; but in other respects he was unchanged. She remembered the wcatherbeaten face, the gieat eager eyes, the savage mouth, the eamngs, the tottoo marks on the powerful bauds. How often had she pictured them to htroeli during the years that he had been u« ay !

He drew a pouch from his pocket, and taking out a piece of negro head tobacco, cut off a piece with a large sailor's knife ; then, as he closed the knife and put the quid into hi& mouth, he said : " You don't fccem over glad to see me, neither! Maybe because you're a lady now, and I'm a bit rough and ready. Well, it's my fault, my gel. 1 should ha' warned you as I was coming. But I'd a notion to give you a surprise, like. Well, well, won't yo shake hands, my dear, and tell me ye ain't sorry I'm come back? " What could she do? She reached oui/ her hand timidly. He seized it with both his hands, and held it firmly but gently, gd/.ing eagerly at her. Hia' eyts were mil ol tears.

"I never thought to see ye again, my lass," he murmured in a broken voice. " I thought I was booked for kingdom come, and all my thcnigbt ihtu was tor my little gel al home. I did the right thing by ye, didn't I, Anniedromedy? 1 tent ye all I had in gold and dollars, and -when i lay a-dymg 1 made over everything to the little gel al home. ' Mind,' says I, ' she gets it all— gold and land, stock and dollars. Her name's Anniedromedy Watson," says I, "and she lives with old Job Endell on (Janvey Island. She's my wife,' says I, 'my little wife as 1 married in Oravesand before [come away last voyage.' And they took it d<v«ii, and they made it aii right accordin' to law, and I signed my name to it afore witnesses — 'Ivlatt Watson, Englishman, his hist will and testament, afore he goes to face hi& (4od ! ' She listened shuddering. Every word he uttered was like -a knife-point thrust into her heart. When he uttered the word "wife,"' her horror and repulsion almost Elirled her, but she continued to look at him, with eyes wide open and lips apart. His face brightened, and forcing a nervous laugh, he 'continued : "But it's all right now, Anniedromedy! I didn't die that journey ; but I got up dazed and stupid, like a chap as has been lying drowned at the bottom of the sea. It was many a long clay afore 1 was fit to travel, and "'twas a long road, many a day's journey up among Ihe mountains, and I'd to E,ell oiit my claim, and what ihey calls 'realise my property,' afore I started for home. Well, I done it at last ! I done it, and come away a rich man, with more money for my "little gel than ever she can spend; and now I'm here, there's nothing she shan't have that money can get for her all the days of her life. I kept, it for her, and it's hers to spend. Yes, it's yours, Anniedromedy ; so you needn't be afraid but I'll keep ye a lacty scill. " "How did you know I was' here? she asked faintly. "Why, I waited for ye outside all the morning,"' he replied, smiling, " and then I followed ye, my dear! " I mean in London. How did you know I was in London?" "Why, this ways',"' answered the s.ailor. " Moment I landed I went down river to Canvey Island, and found old Job and the missis. When they see me they thought I was a ghost! But lup and cries to them, 'Where's my Annie?" And then they told me you was living in London and enjoying of yourself ; and old Job was for coming with me to search for ye. But I laughed and 1 says to him, * You leave that to me, mate ; I'll find her out myself and give her a surprise,' says I ; and I thinks to myself , ' I'll take a look at her first on the sly, and not let on as I'm alive.' And the night afore last I waited outside the house and wondered if I should knock at the door and ask for my little gel ; but I peeped through the window and see you sitting and smiling in fine clothes among your swell mends, and thinks I to myself, ' There's no hurry, lii wait a bit ! ' Tnen yesterday I see you m the street, though you d'dn't see ine — you was too busy talking with a gentleman ! Yes, you was a-laughing and a-talking ; but I was follering behind you all the time ! ' He still held her hand and his grip tightened, while the wistiul expression on his face suddenly changed to one of fierce .uspicion. Drawing her towards him and looking full into her eyes he said : '' There's one thing I'm a-going to ask my gel! Who was the gentleman yoa was aLalking to yesterday? ' She tried to rcleas-.e her hand, but he held it firmly. " A>friend." she said. '"A friend?" he echoed. "Well, that's right enough ! But aiore you parted, my gel, he kissed you, ah if he'd been your "brother. He ki.ssed you on the cheek, Anniedromedy ! Maybe that's the fashion among the iine folk here in London, and if so, I've no call to s>ay nothing about it ; but 1 want ye to tell me, fair and square, why he dove it ? " The Midden question and the keen look which accompanied it seemed to break the spell which had hitherto held her. Her own face darkened and the black line oi her eyebrows, always so trident in moments of pasaion, gathered suddenly. With a sudden movement and an exclamation she tore herself free, and sprang frowning to her feet. He did not me, but kept his eyes fixed upon her, while he shot a stream of tobacco juice from between his teeth. "There's no call to be angry, my gel,"' he said quietly. " I ain"t angry yet. But you've got to Lell me, fair and square again, who that friend of yourr is, and why he kissed ye when you "shook hands." She turned away with a slight hysterical laugh. " That's my Vusinexs,"' she &ald nervously. 'I'm not afraid oE you or any man, Matt tVatson ! The gentleman's a iriend of mine —that's all." *' Does he know you're a wedded woman, Anniedromedy?" asked the sailor, still very quietly. " I'm not i ' cried Annie. '• You're my wife, Anniedromedy ! We was married in Gravesend afore I went away ! " "A marriage that doesn't count/ she murmured. "Don't it, by ! "' cried the man, ri*Slig and showing his white teeth. " Then if it don'tj will have one that does count

right away. Don't be afearcd," he continued, seeing her shrink a^ if from a blow, " I ain't angry, I teil ye — I'm too down- j jight glad to see lay little gel again. And ' I don't blame ye neither, if majbe ye thought I was dead and buried, and wouldn't never come back ! But here I am, and here I"m a-going to stay ; and you've my a\ ife — Anniedromedy Watson, as was married to j me in church afore witnesses, and the man ! ain't born as bhall come between you and