Untitled

Otago Witness, Issue 2624, 29 June 1904, Page 89

SHORT STORIES.

HEROES IWAIN.

By K. Gladys- Harvey,

Under the purple heights of {ho tall S'cotc'i mountains Allan and .Leslie -Maedonald spent, a happy childhood. Their father, T)r luu Macdonald, a cultured scholar himself, deemed the High School of Claverly too narrow, and, planning a. great future for his two sons, chose Edinburgh as the field in which they wore to put th&ir brains again.-t the kcensot intellects in Scotland. Tho lads were cle\er and ambit. ous, and annuallj* brought home tokens of the-ir "success bc+h from classroom and on the sports ground. But at last their college days wsre over ; rbe final home-coming- had arnved: henc-f ■forth they ■each had to take a part in the battle of life-; the playtime of their youth was over.

Although the brothers weie much attached fco each other, their characteristics lay singularly apart. AHau's spirit was a reflection of those of his clan, who had followed Bruce to Iho last; Leslie, on the contrary, was modern in Irs whole personality. The Hioughte of bygone- deeds never ftirred his blood as did th-o accomplishment of sonietlv'ug afc hand. While Allan's proud nature chafed that opportunity was not given to him to emulate the valour of his ancestors, Leslie was ready to forget those Maet'onakls who had made tradition and song- by their deed a of courage: but there was no one in all Scotland who oould take harder knocks in the football fields or keener chrappointments in that same subtle battle of life, than did this young Highlrmdc-r. lie, too, had the courage of his c'&n.

Time whirled on uneventfully; then that j strange .factor, love, came along, and all their plans were as if never mads. H&len Dallas came to Claverly and bewitched the slumberous old town. Hele-n wa« charming: her education in France- had given her a certain chic and gracs that was at once at variance with her deep, complex nature, but which made a fascinating perfonality. Like Allan, she had that love and knowledge of all that pertained to the mysterious, roma.ntic, and unexplair.able ; yet with it a brightness, an insousiance, that made her oharaot-er seem akin to Leslie's. Thus it© was she had two distinct ci-cles of friends and admirers. And summer changed into winter before the girl returned to her home., but "before she left Claverly &he had won the love of both Allan and Leslie doii'ald. But only one brother spoke to her of what lay nearest his heart. Allan wooed her in his tempestuous, old-fashicned j style, with its flavour of old-tdmc chivalry, amd HoT«n accepted him. Le&lie keot all hs felt to himself. In the 'eh&eiy, off-hand style of the man of the hour he caw much of her, made himself v«ry popular, and proved a perfect knight attendant in their mountain rambles, but he .guarded his tongue valiantly and oame forward smilingly to offer his congratulations, and' the world of Claverly guessed nothing. Three months after Hele-n's return to Ecgland the morning mail brought Allan a letter that took all the brightness out of his life. It was from his betrothed, and in a few simple words she told Kirn that their dream of happinese was at an end. A railway accident had left her father with an injured spine, which would keep her ever at his side. He called for all her attention, and she told Allan to forget her and let the past be a£ if they had (never met. For two years the girl suffered a martyrdom that nearly wove her out. Then there came upon th-e scene Noel Henderson, a young Australian squatter, whom she had met at the doctor's house, and who, seeing Helen was pretty as well as bright, scon became a very frequent visitor at the Da lias's. In a very short space of tima he presented himself as a suitor. Even had her hearL not been away up in the Scotch mountain.' Helen would have found nothing interesting in this young Queenslander, and her dismay when she found that her father approved of him was pitiable. Mr Dallas epoke of the power -that lay in her hands with money. In tho one breath he railed at his shattered health, and then talked of what [-real things would ensue if he could but get the opinion nf Sir (iecr.ge Maxwell, the eminent speeiaU^t on spinal di c ea*e. In the end he prevailed upon the- over-strung girl to accept Henderson and let her own (and Allan's) happiness stand aside for duty's sake.

There ar« few woxaeis who could gauge the bittnerness in Eleven Dallas's heart as she consented to become Noel Henderson's wife. She almost hated herself for what ■she called her weakness in being able to trampl-e her love under ; then softer, holier thoughts preya l le.d. She grew almost comforted as she thought that out of this evil that she had set herself to endure good might come to her father. With all Helen's bright vivacity she was a woman with high and lofty ideals arad a very high conception of. womanhood. Now in her own cas-e she. felt that she was sullying that womanhood by marrying without love, although her sacrifice was the means of saving her father's life. But she bole her intolerable petition wjth a brave face, and went on her wav trying to banish from h&r mind (he thought of that summer dream in Scotlpmd. Helen was quietly married tba day after Sir George Maxwell's examination. The great specialist gaye 1 a hopeful opinion, advised a voyago *o Australia, and pocketed his fee of 100 guineas, never dreaming of the price paid for that same ten minutes' consultation. Helen proceeded to Austialia with her husband, and up on the. dreary river station dragged one a weary Ou board ship Henderson had slrown himself, if somewhat irritable and vulgar, etill thoughtful for her welfare. But once on his own station the veneer was quickly rubbed off. Poor Helen ifoon found that she had paid a big price for duty's take. Noel could net understand the refinement of a gentlewoman, and when ehe remonstrated with him over hi? noisj- drir.kir.ii: -ongs and rough demeanour he altered afc her as a Puritan, a kill-joy, and a fault-lndier. There was no woman 'whom Helen could seek companionship from, so the agony of mind the. poor wife endiued was past his understanding.

When the Macdcmlds had grown accustomed to the thought of Helen a« Hendersoa's wile thej tlie\y tpgeth.fr oiie nighj, and

(For the Witness.)

tried to reconstruct, the broken plan® of their lives. Allan was dctcimimod to lca\c Scotland, and on tho battlefields of South Africa seek excitement and forgetfulne-s. He spoke with savage bittein-ois of In-- disappointed hopes. It was thon that Lesho spoke. '■Allan, lam go ; ng to Australia." "Heavens! for what reason? I cannot forget Helen while I remain here, so I must go !" "And I — Allan, you may know it, for it cannot hurt you now — T, too, loved Helen Dallas. I loved her from the fust with a love that woulcl neither be subdued nor quenched. I =ayr that she was for you, anJ I crushed bark all I would have had her know. My lips were in honour scaled, and now that she is the wife of another man it behoves me to keep her fair name untouched by idle talk. Therefore, I am going out unknown to her. I shall watch her from afar, and if there is peace I shall return, but if fiom my obscurity I see she needs help then I shall be nea-r fco give that help when it is needed."

And Leslie threw himself into a chair with a reckless laugh that Allan understood well enoug.li now.

Allan said no word, but he arose and came towards his brother. Their hands met in a long, firm clasip, and a new bond of sympathy made faster the ties that bound them. It was the summer after tre return of Henderson thfl the mailman, b'-ougbfc in word to the Wool ton township that "Gulnara" wanted another stockman, and very shortly Jim Barton was being interviewed with regard to the billet. He seemed a likely style of man, and his credentials were good" enough ; so next dpy found him accompanying the voluble mailman to ''Gulnara." From his post on her husband's station Le°lie Macdor.ald watched over th.c woman he loved. He never saw her, and the had no idea, that there was one whom ?he had known in happier days near her.

And the davk days grew darker &till to the young wife. The drought fiend swept over ths land with his hot, iron sway, and Xoel Henderson refused to bear lil^ losses ■with the usual equananimity of the bushmivn. Helen was frightened of him, and the men on the station suffered alike from his black moods and hot, ungovernable temper. All save Leslie. He kept well away from his employer, though at the same time taking care that he gave him no possible chance to fault his work or dismiss him. Yet he wafohed incessantly. He. felt instinctively that one day in the near future Helen would need his help That day came all too swiftly.

Ncel Henderson was a keen supporter of was ever ready to give both time and money wasever readytogiyeboth time and money towards the Woolion Racing Club. Two or three days in town with boon companions made his return a thing to be dreaded by all upon the station. His hot blood would be aflame with stimulants, and both tonguo and temper were unloosened by the fiery bush whisky. This night Le=lie, smoking in silence at his hut door, heard his horso's hocfstiokes as he cantered homeward. Ho heard Henderson speak to his horse at the slip rails, and his voice was harsh and thick. Up at the house a light was still shining- in Helen's bedroom, though it was past midnight. Henderson let his horse go at tho stable, and half-stupiaed, proceeded to the house. In the long dining room Helen sat reading. Her contempt was shown only too plainly, and her attitude maddened the man, who would fain have proved her n aster. He made a lush towards her, and as the terrified woman ran to the doorway he picked up the largo table lamp and flung it at her. It missed her by an inch, but a shattered crash ended in a flood of flame. Leslie was at the window, and f-aw Helen battling with the blue tongues of lire. The oil had splashed over her dress, upon her hair, aud she seemed wrapped in a sheet of flame. It took but an instant to catch her up and roll her upon the floor. He pulled the heavy tapestry curtains from their rings, and wrapped them around ithe moaning woman. Then lie picked her up, and ran across to the bachelors' quarters with 'her. She lay unconscious in his arms like an icy statue. Ho laid her on the sofa, and as he did so his lo\e rose strong within him. He must raste of this sweetness " while it lay so close to him, and he kissed 'her on lips and brow and eyes. She would never know, and to him it would be a life memory. The erie« of the terrified servants called him back to his diuy. The flames were leaping up the wal's and along the ceiling of the old hou-c. Henderson was half sitting up in one comer of the room. He was sen?eief.s, but untouched by the fire. The work of getting him to the other house was harder, and full of danger. Leslie managed that with much courage and patience. Then the work of destruction wont on apace : the .flames made great mastery, and soon the old Gulnara homestead was nothing but a mass cf smoking ruins

The neighbours were kindness personified to Helen Henderson in her unhappy trial. Fo* from that fateful night Noel never regained consciousness until two days before his death. Bran, fever took lain in its strong grasp, and held him, there until his strength 'was spent; then when he drew near the shadowy portal, the muddled brain grew clear, and the heart grew strong to meet its fate

There was something pathetically quiet in Noel's leave-taking with his wife. AH that was best in the man came out in this supreme moment. He asked her forgiveness, and he made her promise to take all the happiness that came her way after he was gone. All that he pos c essed he left to her, and with her hands clasped in his own he went over the strange borderland. Leslie told Helen of her husband's death. She was still frail and white, and she stood trembling with fear and expectancy as the voting fellow entered. He never forgot the stab that he endured during that oideal. His words sent every vestigfe of colour from the girl's white lips; she swayed and stretched out her hands to him. She clasped his aims until her nails seemed almost to cut 'his fle-.h, and then a low, agonised wail burst fiom her hpo: "O Allan. Allan, come to' ma," and the man beside her stood like a Stoic. She was betraying her own weakness, and he who had don© so much for her was forgotten. In that great moment, when life was stripped of its shams. Helen forgot her late wifehood. It was the cry of love calling for a piotectiug- love, and Leslie, in honour, ignored it. and crushed back his own heart's aching. As soon as he saw her in kindly hand? he effaced, himself. He left Gulnara., for he

wanted their old friendship to remain un- j known to outsiders; but he met Helen m fiydnej". where she staj ed a whf c with her father, and then he said good-bye to her on a steamer bound for England. Ke told her that Allan was in South Africa, and that he was going to bring h.m back. The light that leapt to her eyes scorched his heart, yet ho was glad that it was so. He know that it meant much for hN brothei ; and ' for himself — well, what mattered what camo ' after? In fancy h& pictured Allan and Helen together again. Then he broke off; J his train of thought would go no farther. j He took the fust boat going to Capetown, j and in his bright Bohemian "way mpcl& l:fe ' pleasant for others, and by i-o doing kept back the thoughts that were so ready to rise uppermost. He forced himself to faceC'Verything, taking no time to gauge his [ own feelings. j

At last he had reached the regiment with which Allan had volunteered. He was tired, very tired, of this ceaseless journeying from one official to another in piirsuance of army red-tape, and a glad thrill stirred him when Allan's tent was shown to him. His fancies vanished; he was lifted out of himself. Through constant thinking of Allan and Helen he seemed to banish his own personality, and now the end was &o near that he could pla ; n!y rehears* ifc. A grey lent in the shadow, and Leslie strode forward, eager to see: his brother, eager to clasp -the strong brown hand again. But Allan's servant stood at the entrance, his face stern and troubled. At sight of Leslie a lock of awe flashed over the iimn's f3ce.

' Thank God 1 , 3 r ou are come, Mr Leslie ; but it i? nearly too late!' 1 ''Too late I What do you mean, Donald ?"'

'" Mr Allan is going. He was all for to take the iead in that accursed forlorn rush o\er the Drackenbergs, and "'

And the overcome Scotchman walked away.

Leslie hurried in. Allan was in the hands of the aimy surgeon, but the merest novice in .{ho camp oould tell it was only a matter of minutes between the meeting and the eternal parting. A ware of pleasure lit up th» face of the wounded man as he recognised his brother. Leslie sat down by the camp bed and clasped his hand.

" I am going, old man. Life had lost its charm, and excitement was all that was ■north living for, so I fought it, and found it when I i&d my men over the- Devil's Hoof Pa?s, but a Mauser did its work, and, as mother taught us to say in the long.ago, 'I'm going home.' But tell me of Helen and Claverly while .Ihere is time."

Then the hardest part of Leslie's hard time oame.

" Henderson is dead. Helen is in Scotland, and as much yours as e^\ er. £.0 rally, old man. I have come for you. We will have such a. wedding as ne~\er was before, after her seclusion i& over, so cheer iip."

"Nay, lyeslie. it is too late. Even now I hear the old bell tolling and tlie dirge of the iMaedonalds is in the air. Exit watch over my loved one, and, Leslie, when Time has healed her heart's wound, teach her fo love you ; win her. and so, sheltered by your love on earth, bring h&r to me when we all cross the border. Good-bye."