CHAPTER XXI.—BY THE GREAT RIVER.

Otago Witness, Issue 2401, 8 March 1900, Page 54

CHAPTER XXI.— BY THE GREAT RIVER.

Late that evening she .found herself in fche toAvn of Chelmsford. It had been market day, and the streets Avere still croAvded with country folk of all descriptions, Avho were mainly celebrating -it he occasion by keeping the pubhekouses busy. But she found' a quiet coffee house in a by-street, and slept there for tliG_ night. At daybreak she rose and, guided by the finger posts, proceeded along the country rosd towards Eayleigh. She walked rapidly, with an cver-groAving sense of strength and freedom, and early in the day she reached her destination.

Here, hoAveA-er, she was doomed to disappointment. Both the vicar and his tAvo daugthers Avere aAvay in London, and Avere not expected back for at least a Aveek. To her annoyance and embarrassment, moreover, tAvo or three people seemed to recognise her as wearily and dejectedly she made her Avay out of the village. She walked cpaickly on till she passed the last straggling cottages, and then, climbing a small hill, saAv, far aAvay in the distance, dark clouds hanging over the shimmering estuary of the Thames. The wind was bIoAA-ing freshly from the Channel, and the air rfie breathed Avas salt with the foam of the soa.

She paused, gazing seaward, and the spirit nf her , old life descended upon her. She was again Annie of Canvey Island, free to come and go as she listed. It seemed as if all that had passed Avas a dream, as if she had never been aAvay at all.

What Avas she to do? Where was &he to find a hiding place? It was clear to her that if she returned to !»v! »v old Inane on Canvey Island isho voiild bo A-irtuJ-liy deliverinw herself up to her pnr c uer, for doubtless Matt Watson awi- 3 in coimmmication Avith the Kndeliy, who avouM net fail 'to side with hor bu.sbond against her. Mrs Endell .=he might have trusted. bxrL she kneAV Avell that th^ old man would do anything for money. Yes, if she reappeared at the Lobster Smack, Matt Watson would be cei'tain to seek her and find her, and then Her cheek flushed and her eyes flashed.

while the old passionate line greAV aboA^e her eyes. If ho did find her, what then? She would resist him, and defy him Arith astrength that had seemed denied to her Avhen she Avas a fine lady, and if he persisted, there Avould be always one final refuge — the Great River, for ever flowing past the door. Her dread of the man had already grown less ; it Avas groAving still less Avith every breath of the free air she drew. In London, surrounded by strangei's, conscious of an alien and stifling atmosphere, spell-bound also by her loA r e for Somerset, she had felt paralysed by the mere propinquity of her husband. At Canvey Island nature Avould help her to defy him.

She Avas yearning, moreoA^er, to look at the old place — to Avalk among the lonely scenes where had spent her early girlhood, and where the spirit of loA'e had first found her. She Avas draAvn toAvards it now as those poor girls had been draAvn to the black canal pool at Enfield. She felt that she must go there again, CA-en if it Avere to die.

She Avalked on, following the lonely road which led toAvards the Avoods surrounding Hadleigh and its ruined castle. Scarcely a soul passed her on the Avay. As the sun Avas just beginning to set she stood among the castle ruins, looking down.

BeloAv her, on her right hand, lay the lonely island, Avith eA-ery creek and inlet distinct as on a map ; the great marshes a vivid green, the sea Avails black and grey, the pot>Ls and creeks flashing like quicksilver. Beyond lay the river, Avith its great silent vessels creeping to and fro ; and away eastAvard, to the left of her, the shrimping fleet of Leigh lay at anchor, rocked on the sparkling Avatcrs of the sea.

It Avas nearly high Avater, and the tide Avas still creeping upward, so that every creek and inlet was flooded, and it Avas difficult to tell Avhere land ended and water began. Flocks of Avhite gulls Avere hovering over the creeks. From time to time out of the silence came the shrill scream of the curlew.

As she gazed down the spirit of revolt Avithin her greAV stronger and stronger. When she had dwelt yonder almost alone she had always boen haunted by the fear that her husband might some day return, and the fear had poisoned her happiness, so that she had yearned- to fly away. But iioav, for the first time, a great peace came upon her — out of the solitude — out of the Great River, out of the circumjacent sea. It seemed to her as if she had always loved the place, instead of really hating it, as she had so often done. The tears came into v her eyes, and blotted the vision from her sight. To gain the island at high water it Ava? necessary for her to pass along the ascents leading toAvards Benfleet, until she could cross by the only available road. She soon found herself, therefore, amongthe leafless Avoods, close to the sr>oi Avhere> she hart first held her lips~~to those .of . her young lover. She reached the spot,' she^ paused there, and, falling on her knees, covered her face with her- hands and -wept like a child.

He had deserted her cruelly in her hour of need, but her first feeling of dishallucination and indignation against him had passed aAvay, and phe remembered only his charm, his tenderness, his personal beauty and attraction. He was still her Prince Charming, though sho had left him for ever. If he had never come into her life, she would scarcely have lived at all. She still felt that she Avas ready to sacrifice all the Avorld, her very life, for one kind look from him, one embrace, one ki.«s ; and the niGre her yearning grew towards him, the stronger greAV her resolve never to yield herself to the embrace of any other man.

Down the lonely path she wandered, till she crossed the great creek, and stood upon Canvcy Island. By this time it Avas alret'.dy growing dark, but she knew every footstep of the Avay. At last she saw the lights of the Lobster Smack gleaming before her. She hastened forward with the light wind blowing keenly in her face, and, approaching the windows, looked in. There was a light in onlj r one of them — that of the little parlour — and there, all alone by the fire, oisjaged in some coarse needleAvork, Mrs Endell was sitting.

The next moment Annie ran in at the open door, threw open the sitting room door, and stood, panting and smiling strangely, before the old woman, who sprang to her feet Avith a cry. " Who's that? Sakes alive, Annie, is that you?"

With something of her old air of boldness and abandon, Annie approached the old woman, and,' throAving her arms around her neck, kif-sed her on bcth cheeks.

" Yes, mother, ' IVc come back," she cried. "I hope you're glad to see me." Her eyes flashed, and her cheek flushed. For the moment r-he Avas again the Annie o: Canvcy Island. But the old Avoman's face was clouded ; her expression sadly troubled. She looked keenly tit Annie, and shook her head.

'"What brings 'cc here, lass?" she questioned. " I thought ye Avas up in London. Hoav did 'cc come? " " I walked, mother ,'\ Annie cried. "Walked? Sakes alive! All the vray froni London, d'ye mean?" " All the Avay from London," was the reply ; " but I slept tAvo nights upon the Avay. Where's Job?"

"He were sent for yesterday," said Mk Endell. "I guess you know A\ r ho suit lor him? " "Matt Watson?" " Ay, Matt Watson," ansAvered the old woma,n. " What's come OA r er bebAveeu ye, Annie? IVc a notion that there's trouble, and that's Avhy you've come doAvn here." Annie threAv herself into a chiiir. A Avild spirit of hysterical gaiety seemed to pobS'..^ her. f.'r.<; I'nsAv not Avhy. fiiis took cS li;r hat and placed it on the table.

"I'm glad I c::m=\ mother,"' f^ha ciitd, Avith a loav. nervous laugh. "It icols like hoiiia ! "

"But Matt, my lats. WhiL about Matt? ' said Mrs "Endell. ''Whpre is. he? Is he a-comm;j doAvn home, too? "' Annie shook her h«-d. '" No. moLhor.' 1 "Then Avhat do it moan, Annie? He's your husband, ain't he? And as gord a man as eA'er drew breath. He saA'ed *oc

'" No. moLhor.' 1

from the sea and he made 'cc a lady. It's my belief he'd cut off his right hand to please ! ee. ' ' Listen to me, mother," said Annie quietly, " and when I've told you everything perhaps you'll understand. I knoAV I'm Avicked and ungrateful, and that I ought to care for Matt, seeing all that he's done for me ; but I can't — I can't. I've run away from him for c\ r er ; and at first I think I meant to kill myself, but I didn't, and you see I'm still alive. And I didn't mean to come here ; but I think the sea dreAv me, and I couldn't keep aAvay."

" Just the same mad thing as you used to be ! ' cried Mrs Endell. "But you're Matt's Avedded Avife, my lass, and he's a right to claim ye. Don't 'cc knoAV he's a rich man noAV — :i heap richer than Aye thought. And it's all your?, Annie ; and he loA*es 'cc dearly, and — and "' " I can neA^er live with Matt Watson, mother!" Annie ansAvered, while the flush fadad from her cheeks and the dark line gathered over her eyes. " NeA-er liA'-e AA'ith him? Why not? '

" Because I hate him ! Because IVe alAvays hated and baen afraid of him. His very touch makes me sick! I knoAV he's been good to me ; but I can't help that. All 1- want is never to see his face again ! " "But you don't know Avhat you're saying," cried Mrs Endell. "He's your husband, ain't he? ''

'" No." ansAvered Annie. "He is not my husband — and whether he is or not. it doesn't matter. Our marriaere doesn't count — if it was a marriage at all." The old Avoman looked at her keenly and then said angrily between her set lips : " I knoAV Avhat this means you mad fool ! You've been carrying on again with that young painter chap avlio Avas doAvn here. j Avish Ave'd never seen his face ! But mind ! ee there's right and Avrong in everything, and it's a bad job for him if he's come between rain and Avife."

With a shrug of her shoulders, Annie rose.

" You needn't be afraid, mother. There's nothing Avhatever betAveen Mr Somerset and me. Jf there ever was anything, it's all over long ago !" "The better for him. If Matt thought he'd been making up to 'cc, he'd have lm life !"

" I daresay," returned Annie, carelessly, and, crossing to the AvindoAV, she gazed out into the darkness, while the old avoman Avatched her anxiously. Presently* she turned, and said :

" I suppose, mother, you Avon't drive me away? You'll give me the run of the hotise at least to-night?" "You can stay and Avelcome, Annie," replied Mrs Endell. "You know that avoll enough." "And Job's in London? -Well, I'm rather glad. It's better to have you all to myself! It seems like old times, doesn't

•i -The" next minute she ran from the room into the kitchen, and refetirocd Avith a glass, of milk in .one hand and a slice of bread in "the , other. ... - - 7 " This is my supper," she said, nodding gaily to Mrs Endell. "' You see, I'm making myself at home." She ate the bread and drank the milk as if she had not a care in the world. She herself scarcely knew Avhat possessed her, she felt so wild and lightheaded. The old woman continued to watch her in undisguised suspicion and alarm, for she saw clearly that the girl's Avild mood was merely hysterical, and guessed that it Avould soon be succeeded by something very different. Moving restlessly to and fro, with the quick, eager motion of an animal jusfc escaped from captivity, Annie looked strangely beautiful even in the AA'eary sight of Mrs Endell. Her face Avas marble, but her eyes burred brightly, even dangerously-; her hair, whi-e 1 " fhe had unloosened, fell upon her f-hov.'d rs ; her lips Avere parted, and her Avhiie .(.eJi gleamed as if she were emiling. Ur.i. in &pite of all this there was something in ber manner which Avas less sane than despairing, more reckless than really self-possessed.

" Annie, my lass," the old woman cried at la&t, '" don't go on like that ! Sit doAvn, and talk to me serious, if ye can. Your heart's full o' trouble!"

Annie stood still, and looked her in the face.

"You're right, mother," she replied, "it's broken !" And, throwing herself on her knees, she buried her face in her hands, moaning and sobbing and laughing hysterically, all, as it AA-ere, in one breath. (To be Continued.)