THE TALE OF -TIMBER TOWN.

Otago Witness, Issue 2659, 1 March 1905, Page 67

THE TALE OF - -TIMBER TOWN.

) By A. A. GRACE,

Author of "Talcs of v a Dying Race" 1 (fihatto & Windus) ; " Maoriland • Stories," etc.

CHAPTER XXI.— GOLD AND ROSES

HE pilot's daughter was walking in her garden. The clematis which shaded the verandah was a rich mass of purple flowers, where bees sucked their store of honey ; the rose bushes, in the glory of their second blooming, scented the air, while about their roots grew masses of

mignonetife. Along the winding pathfethe^girl walked ; a pair of garden scissors in one hand and a basket in the other. She passed under o latticed arch over which climbed a luxuriant cloth of gold, heavy with innumerable flowers. Standing on tip-toe, with iher arms above her head, she cut half a dozen yellow buds, which, she placed in the basket. Passing on, she came to the pink glory of the garden, Maria Pare, a mass of brown shoots and clusters of opening buds whose colour surpassed in delicacy the softest tint Of the- pink "sea shell. Here she culled; -barely a dozen> lwes where she might have .gathered -thirty.. -," Yellow and. pink," she miised. "Now for something bright." She walked along the path' till she came to M^sieu Qprdier, brilliant With the reddest of blooms. She si:ole but six cf the best, and laid them in the basket. "We want more scent." she said. There was La France growing close beside, its great petals, pearly white on the inside and rich cerise without, smelling delicious!}-. She robbed the bush of only its most perfect flowers, for there were many buds, but few were developed. <

Next, she came to the type of her own innocence — the Maiden Blush, — whose halfopened bids ;ire the perfect emblem of maidenhood, bu wbose full-blown floweia are, to put it bluntly, symbolical of her who. in middle life, has developed extravagantly. But here again was no perfume. The mistress passed on to the queen of the garden — La Rosiere, — fragrant beyond all other roses, its reflexed, claret-coloirred petals soft and 'velvety, its leaves — when did a rose's greenery fail to be its perfect complement? — tinged underneath with A. faint blush of its own deep colour She looked afc the yellow, led, and pink (iowers in her basket, and 1 said, "There's no white." Now white roses are often papery, but there w\s at least one in the garden worthy of being grouped with the beauties in the* basket. It was the Bride, typical, in its snowy chastity and by reason of s pale gi een tint at the base of its petals, of that purity and innocence which, are the brjde's best dowry. Rose cut a dozen long-stemmed flowers from this lovely bush, and then — whether it was because of the sentiment conveyed by the blooms she had gathered or the effect of the landscape is a mystery un-

solved — -her eyes wandered from the garden to the far-off hills. With the richly-laden basket on her arm, she gazed at the blue haze which hung over mountain and forest. Regardless of her present occupation, forgetful that the fragrant flowers in the basket would wither in the glaring sun, she stood, looking sadly at the landscape, as though in a dream.

What were hei thoughts? Perhaps of the glorio-vs work of the Master Builder ; perhaps of the tints and shades where the blue of the forest, the brown of the fern-clad foot-hills, the buff of the sun-dried grass mottled the panorama which lay spread before her. But if po, why did she sigh? Does the contour of a hill suffuse the eye? Not a hundred thousand hills could in themselves cause a sob — not even a gentle yob which amounted to no more than a painful little catch in Rose's creamy throat. She was standing* on the top of a bank, which -was surmounted by a white fence ; her knee resting en the garden sea,t, upon •which she had placed her basket, whilst in reverie her -spirit was carried beyond the blue mountains. But there appeared behind tiie bulky form of her father, who walked in carpet slippers upc-n the gravel of the path.

"Rosebud, my gal !" The stentorian tones of the old sailor's A'oice woke her suddenly from her daydream. "There's a party in the parlour waitin' the pleasure of your company, — a party mighty anxious for to converse with a clean- -white woman by way of a change." The girl quickly took up her flowers. "Who can it possibly be, father?" "Come and see, my gal;, come and see." The old follow went before, and his daughter followed him into the house. There, in the parlour, seated at the tiEble, was Ca-wtam Sartoris.

Rose gave way to a little exclamation of surprise and •'pleasure, and was advancing to meet her visitor, when he arrested with a gesture of the hand. "Don't come too nigh, Miss Summerhaves,' he said, with , mock gVavity. "I might ha' got the plague or the yaller fever. A man out o' currantine is to be approached with 3aution. Jest stand up agin' the sideboai'd, my - dear, and let me look at you." The girl put down her r.oses and pesed as desired. "Very pretty," said Sartoris. "Pink and white, purebred, English — which, alter being boxed in with a menag'ry o' Chinaanen and Malays, is wholesome and reassuring. " • "Are you out for good, captain?" "Thty can put rat aboard' who can catch me, my dear. T'd run into the bush and live like a savage. I'm not k much of a mountaineer, but you would see how I could travel."

"But what was the disease?" asked the pilot. '\Some s^ort of spceitl Chinese fever ; something bred o' dirt and filth and foulness ; a complaint you have to live amongst for weeks before you'll get it : a kind o' beri-beri or break-bone, which was new to the dectors here. I've been disinfected and fumigated till I couldn't hardly breathe. Races 'has their special diseases, just the same as ihev has their special foods. This Avar'n"t an English sickness ; all its characteristics were Chinee, and it killed tjje captain because he'd lived that long with Chinamen that, I firmly believe, his pigtail had begun to shoot. Furrin crews, furrin crews ! Give me the British sailor, an' I'll sail my ship anywhere."

"And run her op the rocks at the end of j the v voyage," growled the pilot. "I never comes ashore to argify," retorted the captain-. "But if it comes to a matter of navigation, there are points I could give any man, even pilots."

Seeing that the bone of contention was abofit to be gnawed by the sea-dogs, Rose interiupted with a quefation. "Have you just come ashore, captain?" "In a manner o' speaking he has," answered her father, who took the Avords out of his friend's mouth, "and in a- manner o' speakin' he hasn't. You see, my dear, \vi wenif'for a. little prelimirrarv cruise."

"The first thing your fathet-told 1 me was about this here robbery of mails. 'When was that.?' I asked. 'On the night of the Bth or early morning of the^9th,' he says. That was when the captain* of the barque died. I remembered it well. 'Summerhaves,' I said, 'I have a notion.' And this is the result, my dear."

From the capacious pocket of his thick pilot-jacket he milled a brown and charred piece of canvas. "What's that?"' he asked.

"I haven't the last idea," replied Rose.

"Does it look as though it might be part of a mail-bag?" asked Sartoris. "Look at the sealing-wax sticking to it. Now look at that." He drew from the deep of another pocket a rusty knife. "It was found near the other," lie said 1 . "Its blade * wt),s open. And what's that engraved on the name plate? — your eyes are younger than mine, my dear." Thesailor handed the knife to Rose, who read the -name and exclaimed, "B. Tr«sco !" "That's what the pilot made it," said Smtoris. "And it's what I made of it. We're all agreed that B. Tresco, whoever he may be. \v as the owner of that knife. New this

l* evidence : that knife was found in conjunction with this here bit of brown canvas, which I take to be part of a mail-bag ; and the two of 'em were beside the ashes of a fire, above high water maik. On a' certain night I saw a fire lighted at that spot ; that nightwas the nigh^ the skipper of the barque died, and the night when the mails were robbed. You see, when things aio pieced together it lookh bad for B. Tresco."

"I know him quite well," said Rose ; "he's the goldsmith. What would he have to do with the delivery of mails?''

"Things have got this far," said the pilot. "The posial authorities say all the bags veren"t delivered on board. They don't accuse anyone of robbeiy as yet, but they want the names of the boat's crew. These Mr Crookenden says he can't give, as the crew was a special one, and the man in charge of the boat is away. But from the evidence that Sortoris has brought it looks as if Tresco could throw light on the matter." -

'■It'& for the police to take the thing up."' said Sartoris. "I'm not n. detective myself ; I'm only a plain sailor — I don't pretend to be good at following up clues. But if the police want this here clue they can have it. It's the best one of its kind I have evei come across, look at it from whatever side you please. It's almost as perfect a clue as you could have, 'if you had one made to order. A policeman that couldn't follow up that clve — ' Tresco ' on the knffe, and^ alongside of it the bit of a mail-bag — why, he ought to be turned loose in an unsympathising world and break stones for a living. It's a. beautiful clue. It's a clue a man can take a pride in : found all ready on the beach, just a-waitin' to be picked up, and along comes a chuckle-headed old salt and grabs it. Now, that cine ought to be worth a matter of a hundred pounds to the Government. What reward is offered, pilot?" "There's none as I'm aware of," answered Summerhyyes. ''But if the post- \ master is a charitable sort oi chap, he i might be inclined to recommend, say, fifty ; J you bein' a castaway sailor in very 'umble j circumstances. I'll sea what I can do. I'll j hec the mayor." !

j, "Oh. you will !" exclaimed Sartoris. i, "You'd better advertise: 'Poor, distressed ' sailor. contributions thankfully re- ( ceivedl' * No, sir, don't think you can pauperise me. A man who can find a clue like that" — the brought the palm of his right hand down with a smack upon the table, where Tresco's knife lay — "a man ! who can find that, sir, can make his way in j any community !"

Jusx at that time there were heavy footsteps upon the verandah and a knocking :it the front door.

Rose, who was sitting near the window, made a step or two towards the passage, but tho old pilot, who from, where he stood could see the glass of the frohjfc door, forestalled her, and &he seated herself oppotite the skipper and his clues.

"So you think of visiting the police sergeant?"' she asked, by wa3' of-keeping up the conversation.

But the sk-ipper's whole, attention was fixed on the voices in the next room, into ivhich the pilot had conducted his visitor.

"H'm," said Sartoris. "I had an idea I .knew tl«3 voice, but I must have been misTaken. Who is the party. Miss Rose?"

."I haven't the slightest clue," replied the girl, smiling. ''Father has such a number of strange friends in the port that I've long given up trying to keep count of them. They come at all hours, about all sorts of things." The words were hardly out of her mouth t* hen the pilot, wearing a most serious expression of face, entered the room. "Well, well." he said; "well, well! Who'd ha' thought it? Dear, dear, of all the extraordinary things ! Now. Cap'n *Sartorip, if -you'd 'a' asked me, I'd 'a' said rhe thing was impossible— impossible. Such things goes in streaks, and his, to all intents and purposes, was a bad 'n; v and then it turns out like this. It's most remarkable, most extraordinary. It's beyond me. I don't fathom it "

"What the deuce an' all are you talkin' about. Summer liayes?" Sartoris spoke most deprecitingly. "A man would think you'd buried a shipmate or even lost your ship."

"Eh? What?" the pilot thundered. "Lost my ship? No, no ! I've bin wrecked in a fruiter off the coast of Sardinia, an' I've biu cast away on the island of Cui'acoa, but it was always in another man's vessel. No, sir ; I never failed to bring the c-wners' property safe into poit. Any fool can run his ship on shore and litter her cargo along half a-mile of sea coast.'"

"We've heard that argyment before," said Sai ton's. "We qiito understand — you couldn't dc* ,such a thing if you tried. You'ie a most exceptional person, and I'm proud to know you ; but what's this dreadful thing that's redooced you to such a state of bad temper that your best friends "d hardly know you? I ask you that, Sumlnerhayes. Is it anything to do with these clues that's on the table?"

"Clues be " It is sad to relate that the pilot of Timber Town was about to use a strong expression, which only the presence of his -daiighter prevented. "Come

cut of that room there," he roared. "Corfu an' shoAv yourself." There Avas a heavy tread in the passage, c?nd presently theie entered the room a A-ery shabby * figure of a man. A ruddy beaid obscured his face; his hrir badly needed cutting ; his boots Avere dirty and much worn; his hands. bore marks ot hard Avork, but his eyes Avere bright, and tha colour of his cheek was healthy, and for all the noise he made as he walked there Avaa strength in his moA'einents and elasticity

in his steps. Without a word of introduction, he held out his hand to Miss Summerhayes, wba

took it frankly. ! v Chptnin Saitoris had risen to* his feet. ■ "How d'y do, sir?" he said, as he shook /hands. "I hope I see you well, sir. Have j you come far, or do you live close handy?'' | * "I've come a master of twenty miles oi ; so to-day," said the tall stranger. "Farming in the bu&h, I suppose," said Saitoris. "Very nice occupation farming, 1 should think.'" He closely eyed the ruatjed man. "Or perhaps you fell down a precipice of jagged" stones which tore yot considerably Anyhow, I'm glad I see you well, sir; very glad I see you well." There was a rumbling noise like the echc of distant thunder through the hills. Rose and Sartoris almost simultaneously fixed their eyes upon the pilot. Summerhayes's huge person was heaving with suppressed merriment, his face was 3-ed, and his mouth was shut tight lest he rhould explode with laughter. But when he saw ike two pairs of bewildered eyes staring at him, he burst into a laugh such as made the Avooden Avails of the house quiver. Sartoris stood regarding the pilot as thoueh he trembled for his friend's senses ; and a look of alarm showed itself in Rose's face. , "You don't know him!" eriec! the pilot, gulling himself together. But the- Titanic lnuwhter aeain took' hold of him and shook his C vast frame. "You'Ve travelled Avith him, you've sailed with him, you're known him, Sartoris — you've bin shipAvrecked with him!" Here 1 the paroxysm seized the pilot anew; and when it had subsided it loft him exhausted and feeble. He sank limply upon the old-fashioned sofa, and! said, "almost in a whisper, "It's Jack Scarlett, and you didn't know him ; Jack Scarlett, back frran the diggings, with his swag 'full of gold — and you thought him a Ftranger." It was now the turn of Rose and the skipper to laugh. Jack, .Avho up t this point bad kept a straight face, joined Ms merriment to theirs, and rushing forward

they each shook him by the hand again, but' in a totally different manner from that of their former greeting. Out of his "jumper" the fortunate digger milled a long chamois leather bag. tied- at the neck with a bootlace. Taking a soup pate from the sideboard, he emptied ths ; consents of the bag into it, and before the f astonished eyes of Ihe onlookers lav a heap of yellow gold. They stared, and were .speechless. From about his waist Scarlett untied a long leather belt, which proved to be lined with gold. But the soup plate would hold no morn, and so the lucky digger poured the residue in a- heap upon the polished

table. Next, he went out to the verandah, and undoing his sw : ag, he returned with a tin -anister which had been wrapped in

Ins blankets. This also was full of gold, and, taking off its lid. he added its contents to the pile on th stable. "And there's some left in the camp," he said. "I couldn't cany it all to-town."'

"Well, well !"' said Sartoris. '""While I've been boxed up in that stinking plagne ship, I might ha' been on God A'mighty's earth picking up stuff like this. Well, -well, what luck !" "There must be a matter o' two thousand pound," said the pilot. "Two thousand pound!" "More," said Jack. "There should be 800oz. valued at something like £3000 ; and this is the result of but our first washing up "

"Good lord, what luck!" exclaimed tin, pilot. "As I always have said, it conies' iii sti-eaks. Now. Jack, here, has had his stieak o* bad luck, and now he's got intc a fine new streak, and it's so good that it's like to turn him crazy before he comes to the end of it. If you want to know the reel truth about things, ask an old sailor — he won't mislead you." But all that Rose said was, "How nice

it must be to meet with such success."

"By George, I was almost forgetting our bargain," exclaimed Scarlett. He took from, liis pocket a little linen bag, ivhicih he handed to Rose. "There are the nuggets you wanted — glad to be able to keep my

promise The girl untied, tbe neck of the small bag, and three heavy pieces of gold tumbled on the table. "I can't take them." she exclaimed. "They're worth too much. I can't niaka any adequate return." "I hope you won't try. Pilot, she must take them." *'Take 'em? Of course. Why, Rosebud, his luck would leave him to-morrer if you was to stop him keeping his jgrouuse, You're bound to take 'em."

Rose weighed the bits of virgin gold in the palm of her little hand. "Of course, I never really meant you to give me any of your gold," she said. "I only spoke in joke." "Then it's a joke I should make pretty often if I was you," said Sartoris. "You don't seem to know when you're well off." "I take it under compulsion ; hoping that you'll find so much more that you won't feel the loss of this." "There's no fear of that," said Jack. "As ffor repayment, I hope you won't mention it again " 'Til have to give it to you in good ."wishes." The basket of roses stood on the table. ! Jack looked at the beautiful colours, and stooped to smell the sweet perfume. "I'll take one of these," he said — "the one you fcke the best." The girl took a bud of La Rosiere, dark, velvety, fragrant, perfect. "I'm in love .■with them all," she said, "but this is my favourite." She handed the bud to Jack, who put it in the Jjuttonhole of his worn and shabby