THE LOST EARL OF ELLAN.

Otago Witness, Issue 2714, 21 March 1906, Page 63

THE LOST EARL OF ELLAN.

— «» A STORY OF AUSTRALIAN LIFE. JBy MRS CAMPBELL-PRATSB. PART I. CHAPTER XV.— SISTERS. XRA. -was sitting Tip in bed, propped by pillows, a wan and rather tv eird-looking Ooia — her coil-black hair brushed neatly and. tied into an unbecoming bunch by Patsy's kindly but inartistic fingers ; her greenish eyes with an odd lambent flame in them, staring out from her thin drawn face. She heard Susan come into the next room, and quivered all over as bhe leaned against her pillows, listening intently. She could not hear what was Semg said, and her inability to do so irritated her, so that she frowned iuid then sighed in rather a piteous way. Nevertheless she was certainly much better and not nearly so weak — or she seemed so to-night. But there was a new kind of restlessness about her. She had been protesting to Patsy that she wanted to get up and be dressed — that she could never get well in bed, and Patsy had not succeeded very well in soothing her. "She's got something on her mmd — that's what it is ; I'm terrible sure of it ; and now I suppose it's coming home to her, and that's why she seems as though eht> couldn't rest," said Mrs Galbraith unea&ily to Susan when her elder step-daugh-ter came in. " But she had a nice sleep this afternoon, Patsy, deal-. You _gan't expect her to lie quiet foi ever. K"s quite natural she should .rant to get up as soon as she can." '"But this jerky kind of strength isn't natural," persisted Patsy, "and she's been flopping lound in bed ever since she woke, and wouldn't be content till I bolstered her up. I didn't think she was fit for it. Not but what I gave her a large cup of beef extract which I prepared myself, thinking to tempt her to take it, and she pulped it down as fast as Polly might 'have done, without stopping to get breath. 'ISow I shall soon be on my fe?t again. Pat,' she said to me, with her eyes as big as saucers and such a hungry look in them that I asked ~her would she have some more. Of course, I know OoTa's nevei boei? one to want to lie long abed, but still with her skm in the £tat£--it is, and the cuts on her 'hand notproperly healed, and she that thin — why, you wouldn't think she -ould be up for a week or two at least." "Ah, /ou (Mii't know yet what we bush girl's are made of, Patsy, though you ought, since you're one yourself,"' said Susan, between a smile and a sigh. "It teems as though both Oora and I rould °tind an amount of suffering tliat would do fcr most gills — and yet somehow we rise uiidor it."

"What do you mean, Su? You've no call to talk like that," said Mrs Galbraith, hastily. "Oh, you mean Harry," she addecf, seeing the shadow on Susan's face. " Sure, I'm real sorry about him — that I am — and, of course, it's roughest on you. But, look here, Oora's just worrying herself out of bed with this love affair that she ought to be ashamed of, c.r else I'm much mistaken. Nothing can be worse thai* that for a gh-1. Now, j-ou haven't got such a thing on jour mind, Su. No one would think that of you. I didn't expect it of Oora, and^ what her father'll say I'm sure I don't know. Why, if she'd been at home she might have fallen in. love with that chap Wolfe, who was all very Avell, but not the sort of husband for either of you." "Don't let us talk about him, please, Patsy, dear,' 1 said Susan, eagerly, "or of Harry either. What's the good? Mr Wolfe may never come back to us, and nothing's known of poor Harry at present As for Oora, her tangle must- unravel itself. She'll never stand interference, that I'm certain of.'' " I shan't interfere with her," said Mrs Galbraith stoutly. " I'm going to Jbake no notice. Why, I should be ashamed to speak about it, if she wasn't. How'm I to ask her if all those goings on were true? ' All the same, Susan, it's a comfort to think that you didn't fall in love with Wolfe — though you might have done, I'm sure, if you hadn't held your head high and had too much sense, for he was goodlooking enough, and seemed to admire you, which, of course, he would. But, as you say, he's best forgotten, if he doesn't choose" to come back, the ungi-ateful fellow. And your father offering him an appointment like that !" "Yes/ye.s; but I want to tell you about someone else. Patsy,"' said! Susan, and she hurriedly detailed her encounter with Cordeaux. * But the blood was surging under her eves to, and Patsy looked v keenly at her. " * " This is the young man who was coming to Narrawan, isn't it?" she asked. "Some beau of yours, I suppose, Su? And your father must have favoured' him, or he wouldn't have said he could come here, ii <stead of putting up at Meiklejohn's. Well, by that 1 take it that he's a gentleman, at all events. To be sure, I've heard my father say that anyone that wore the" Queen's uniform could be relied on to behave a* he should. And, of course, as Duncan wished it, we'll do our best to make him comfortable, though with, these red and yellow half-breeds about one can't be sure of anything." " Don't worry- yourself, Patsy, dear. Someone will get a room ready for him. And it doesn't matter if he has to rough it a bit — sailors are used to that. Besides," he invited himself." "Which "shows that he must have wanted to come , pretty - badly, and one can easily guess the reason,!' retorted Patsy. "Well, if. was » nio, straight-forward thing to d'o — no love-making on the sly." "* " I'll just go to Oora," said Susan; breaking in on Patsy's jerky comments. "I suppose I can tell her that we've a visitor coming." "Tell her anything in reason, but don't throw her back into a fever,' 1 returned Mrs Galbraith. "You knov Dr Farrell said she wasn't to be allowed to let her mind run on the wreck, so we'd best not talk of it Seems to me it's just aa well son,cone else should come, so as to give us something fresh to talk about." Patsy bustled off to make preparations for Cordeaux, and Susan went off to her sister's room. Oora's eyes were wandering restlessly around, but they leaped instantly to Susan's face, and remained fixed there with an expression of such intense longing that Susan felt a sudden stir of pity for the poor gn*l. She knelt clown beside the bed, and gently stroked one thin wrist. That hand was bound up, for it was the one which the Malay on the raft had slashed with his knife. The other, Susan noticed, Oora kept clutched on iier bosom, dragging the folds of her night dress together. Susan's thoughts at once flew to the charm, but she did not like to say anything that might bring back the horrible time of stress, so she merely asked, " How are ypu feeling now?" "Feel! I feel quite well," eaid Oora, a little pettishly. " "At least* I shall be when I can get up. Why won't Patsy let me get up?" " She doesn't think you could if you tried," replied) Susan. "You must be a little stronger first. You know, Oora. you're riot fit for much at present." " I know — I know ; but I should be if only I could get out and' get some air again. I want the wind blowing round me — I want to see the sea — I want — I want " "Yes, yes, dear," said Susan, sooth ingly ; "so you bhall, as soon as possible.'' "It's so dull lying here," moaned Oorar " No one to speak to — nothing to do — only to think — think — think." "Why, Ooru, I didn't know ypu wanted company. You never seem to notice anything half the time." "I couldn't get my head clear," faltered Oora. "But it's coming all right now." " Yes, of course it is ; and you shan't be dull — Patsy or I will always sit with you. Besides, we're going to have a visitor, and he " "A visitor? 0h z who?" ejaculated Oc-ra. "Someone who came ashore here to-day to inquire for you. But, Oora! what is it?" For the burning fingers of Oora's free hand had closed round Susan's with the tenacity of rcd-»hot wire. "Who? "Who?' 1 breathed Oora. " Soie'ioae jycm don't know — an officer of the Clytie. I met li'im in Sydney." For the life of her Susan could not help .■>. tinge of self -consciousness creeping into ' her vo.ice_ and. manner. Oora watched her sister closely, while two brilliant carmine spots rose in her own cheeks. "How" did he happen to turn up here?" she a«k->.-d. "His ship is — or wajb — off Thursday [ Island, and he'd heard how ill you'd been,

and that we were all here, so he came to inquire. He was quite keen to know how you were getting on." "Oh !" Oora did not seem nattered. On the contrary, it was evident that she was disappointed. Susan wondered why. " He's on leave just now," she continued, "and he's going to stay hei'e a bit. Father told him he could — so I daresay you'll enjoy talking to him when you are better. He's looking forward to seeing you.'* "He might have come without making up any 9 excuse about me," said Oora, witn a wild touch' of the old careless merriment- which- she had been used to show concerning her own as well as her sister's admirers. But suddenly her face changed. The odd greeF flame leaped up in her eyes. ' "What made him want to ask about me — in particular? You say his ship was at Thursday Island, so I suppose hsr boats Avould have been out picking up people after the — wreck. He'd nothing to rto with picking me up, had lie?" "No, no ; nothing. Mr Aisbet picked you lip. Don't speak of that time, Oora." "Why shouldn't I? It — it interests- me. Some people mxist have been saved. They couldn't all have been drowned, like poor Uncle and Aunt Leitch. Besides, after a person has been floating about for hours, the chances are they must be saved — ■ they're meant to be/ Oora's strained lone shrilled into a high, tharp note of agony. "God couldn't be so cruel as to let every one drown," she cried. "Susan, tell me — who was saved?" "My deal', I don't know," and Susan shu-dtierc-d. : i "But you must have heard." For a long minute the sisters looked into each other's faces. The question that Oora's lips dared not utter was written clearly in her gleaming eyes for anyone to perceive who had the clue to her desire. And in a dim, troubled way Susan understood the restless pain and passion. " I have tried not to listen," she said. "I could not bear to hear anything about that awful time, and, Oora, it would be far better for you " But Oora had flung her sister's hand away. "You tried not to listen! That is 60 like you, Susan. Just because it hurt, lou might have known that I should want to~ hear." Then Susan bent ove. the bed 1 . " 1 heard nothing more than you yourself told me, Oora. .There Has been no other chance for me to hear." Oora gave a quick upward 100k — the look of s a frightened but impenitent child. "What do you mean? I know nothing — but this officer on the Clytie?" - "He may know more than you or I. He may have picked up someone — I cannot teT. I Lave not asked him, and I shall not do so. What I mean is that in your delirium you raved wildly of things which I want to forget." Once more the girls gazed at each other — Northern - calm and Southern fire, and though neither knew it, the same man's' face between them.- • "You are cruel," moaned poor Oora, in a smothered tone, for she was still "rather v eak, and a rush of tears extinguished the light in her eyes.. Susan's heart' softened with pity and self i eproach. " I don't mean to be. But you must forget them, too, Oora — yon must, indeed . — or there will be trouble, and heaven knows that with .poor Harry gone and father fretting . over him, we all have enough to bear." Oora made no answer. She cared little for Harry, and 6he scarcely heeded the reference to him. She lay quite" still now — a long, straight form, stark , and silent, beneath the coverlet. Only her features were working, and from undei her closed lashes two large tears forced a path. Susan would have wiped them away, but somehow she felt that Oora's sorrow was better left alone. Had she said too much? Perhaps; but when she had found Oora thus eager for news — it could only be of one person — she had thought it best to caution her sister. Oora had always Lad a frank, unguarded tongue, and Susan thought it would not do for her to talk too openly to Patsy, whosd suspicions had already been aroused, and whose outraged sense of propriety was on the deftifeive at the idea that Oora had been demeaning ker&elf over &ome contemptible clandestine love affair. Better far that Oora should say no word which might lead into inquiry into the horrors of that night. The doctor's interdiction seemed a wise one, and ca-me opportunely ; and her warning given, Susan was prepared to help her rioter to look forward and to forget the pa*t. If only she herself could do the 6ame ! — coul4 forget her owa embittered dream! But Susan thought that, whatever happened, she wiu> not likely to betray herself. Had rwt Patsy paid an unconscious tribute to her Sf>!f-rontrol? Outside, she could hear Patsy's voice welcoming the newcomer, and Brian's rolling tones intermingling with tlie harsher on.es of the over&eer. Judging by the snatches of conversation which she could catch, it seemed ' apparent that Meiklejohn, the overseer, had met Mr Cordeaux on his way back to tbje house, and had volunteered to escort him. Patsy was explaining volubly that Mr Meiklejohn must help to entertain their guest, on account of Duncan G-albraith's absence and the general disorganisation of the household, due to Oora's illness. Much domestic detail followed — detail that was already familiar to Meiklejohn, but to which he listened anew with interest, for the coming of the Galbraith family to AcoHarra was an unmixed satisfaction to him. Accustomed to the sunburned, seacoarsened skins of Mrs Aisbet and her gawky, half-formed daughter, Susan's fairness and delicately rounded proportions, ncr beauty and exquisite womanliness, her little Sydney -taught tricks of fa-shion and sracea of gesture, her "Lady Susan," dignity and air of refinement, were a revelation fa poot Meiklejohn Then the way vho talked on the occ-ikats when he met ; her at the Aisbets' table j \uer poetry (

1 vrlting, of wMclf he had learned', made het seem a superior being to the uncultured; bushman. He was enchanted, too, by het music — for the Aisbets, of course, had tv piano — and Meiklejohn, passing the dxaw* ing room end of the house, had once ot twice heard Susan crooning very low some of the old Scotch songs Duncan Galbraitui loved, when between her watches by Oora'3 bedside, and hungering for some refreshment, she had ventured to make mufllecfc i harmonics. . Everything about her roused; | in the overseer an. untranslatable emotion that was, bewildering and delightful. 'Jffd was the l'oughest of the rough specimens' of humanity that abounded in the Gulf ountry. Hardly ever before had he seen a lady, and Susan seemci to liim something mare than woman. Now, the sight of Cordeaux filled liinß with jealousy. They met at the jetty* and instinct told Meiklejohu the real ob-. ject of Brian's visit. Meiklejohn's rough-, red hair bristled, and his blue eyes gkredi at the naval officer in a iainner that did not bode well for the agreeable fulfilment of Ms duties as host in Mr Aisbet's absence. He went up to the house withi Cordeaux in order that he might observef •Susan's demeanour. Poor Meildejohs! Susan would have smiled in pitying contUsr! seension... but perhaps she would, not Jiavet been altogether regretful hMshe realised ! tfc'e wild adoration with" which Hal Aisbefs ■ , overseer regarded her. Indeed, site .was' never indisposed to play the goddtess party and to play it even for Meiklejo-hn, would! have soothed the pangs of wounded love and self-esteem which Wolfe's d^'-t-^n caused her. Mrs Galbraith welcomed, the new-comer with more than her accustomed cordiality.' When two out of three people are deter* mined to be friendly, the third cannot help to a certain extent following suit, andMeiklejohn made an ungracious attempt' to show some feeble interest ir the designs upon wild pigs which Brian a little awkwardly put forth. Brian was too joyous after his conversation with his lady -ldv« to notice anybody's ill-humour, but Patsyi was shrewd enough to divine that interest in pig-sticking was but a blind for deeper, feelings, and was half amused, half angry" at the transparent intentions of 'the one man and the inanifes' jealousy o f . ~"he* other. * Presently she bustled forth in search' oft her elder step-daughter, whom she found in Oora's room. ' ' "Well, Su, I've seen your beau, and he's a Tegular nice young chap, without a bit oE English stuck-up nonsense about him. Mjr word ! if my picanniny wa6 up here, she'dt be saying 'that feller 'cobbon budgery ben jamin belongin' to Susan.' " , "I wonder how the picanniny and -Jackyi are getting on," resumed Patsy, as Susa'tt straightened her hair at Oora's -lookingglass. Patsy heaved a sigh at the thought of her absent little ones, and wandered off to Narrawan matters. "I didn't tell 'you,' Su, that the blacks have come back!- front their walk about. Pinlpot told me that some of the tribes from the Yellaroi disrtrict have been coming down, and they had a yabber arid 1 a corroboree. Wouldn't/ Oora have liked 'n be there — the blacks have been asking about her. -ou listening, Oora?" But Oora did not answer, and lay staring moodily through the window out between the verandah posts, which framed a narrow" gleam of the sea. " Half-caste Charlotte is back again with the children, which is a comfort," Patsy went on, " but I asked Mrs Milligan to keep a loot out on the strange, blacks i£ there was any round. Charlotte was thafl disreputable- — for all the world like a myall black, straight from the - bush. . However, I gave her a clean rig-out, lind Ah Hong is to see that she has a swim In the lagoon every day. ..Polly was just oufc of her mind with joy at the sight of her back again, and I expect the child will btf knowing nothing but black's yabber by thej time we get back again. . . . Are you ready, Su? " There was a clean white muslin come in from the wash I Gaw the Chinaman taking into your room. You might have rigged yourself out a bit, and put on a mauve ribbon instead of those black ones. Your poor Uncle and AiihfcLeitch wouldn't mind that if they knew ib was for your beau. And for goodness sake be quick, for I declare that Meiklejohn's bursting with jealousy, and ready to tear Mr Cordeaux's eyes out of his head. Poor yahoo of a creature. He's brought you up two more pelican skins and some of thenc dinky slabs of pearl from the inside of tha nautilus shell. Well, are you coming, Su?" . . Susan cast an anxious glance at the motionless form on the bed ; the brooding eyes were hidden now under the reddened lids. "All right, Patsy. I'll go out' directly. Don't make a noise. I think Oora'e going to sleep again." - . - But Oora did not sleep. The moment' her sister had gone hot tears again forced! themselves slowly between her closed* eyelids. Presently she was seized with a long, gradual tremor that gained intensity — one of those nervous fits of shivering to which in her illness 6he had become liable. It seemed to rise right up from the soles of her feet, and when it reached her chesfc it brought convulsive twitchings that were for a time beyond her power to control. She did not- try to control them, for the quivering was a relief to her strained nerves. The convulsion seemed to be deeper seated than mere physical trembling. It was as though her very soul was shaken within her. In truth, the shudder was inward as much as outward— t lie struggle of a soul free for a while, and now reluctantly xorced back into prison. Oora's real self revolted? with all its might against the cramping conditions of commonplace life, which debarred her from indulging the extraordinary passion that was like a magician's .speil upon her! She wondered whether the stranger were in thraldom to a. ka wizardy— whether he were straining in. spirit towards his sea-witch as her own} spirit was straining towards 'him. Hck intense consciousness of the bond between; them made her feel almost certain that he still lived. , The whole time, einse h&x return to con*

.-. fciousness, she had, upon the mys--feiy^bf that'fcbiwl. ' SKe could' not" ac\'*G6rint. .for this sudden infatuation for a complete stranger, except on the ground -- of some mexplainable law of being of which -she had only the dimmest comprehension. 'But though "she oo'uld not understand the --meaning of this strange thing, she knew • it -was a terrible, yet. infinitely sw«at, reality. Now, as she brooded, the tlrought came ■to her of how all her life since childhood she had had the inward feeling that there was in store for her some exceptional revelation of what life, love, spirit really are _of what the old twin soul theory might mean. She had always vaguely {believed that in some supreme crisis Ka- " tare would grant her this revelation. For /to Oora's mind that secret yearning she fliad ever felt- for a companionship which - 'should satisfy the transcendor.tal side of - {her own being was inseparably connected iwithrthe nature forces of which she seemed [partly compounded. For her love would ■have the resistless might of great salt -/waves; it "would have the glory and the " "«fc-omful quality of those wide plains that touched the sky— green and flowery m thfe j spring after rains ; cruel and deadly in fin time of - drought- It would be sweet "as wattle and creek jasmine, dreamy as - the";- fragrance of certain scrub blossoms, jmaddening as a mid plant the blacks ate hefbre their" corroborees. Something of" pll this would love -have for Oora. Some-. :*hin<r of the inelancholv of gidya stretches, of the fantasy of forest growth, of the «orcirry of 'ga« nfc storm-blasted gums. It •.would bold her as the busk held her chii- " oren; with an inexorable fascination from MrMch she could have neither the desire nor the- power to escape. Now she was sure that- her presentiment of Nature's revelation to her of love had been a true one. In the waves of the ocean, under the very chiton of death, File had found and recognised her fore--Drdoined mats. As they had clung to "each other tlirough that long night of mingled terror and sweetness, with only -"tba. stars looking, down upon them, and the sea bearing them safe upon her bosom, She had realised in a sense almost super- " natural the mysterious blending, of her own -■fltsftny with that of the unknown man whose" life she had saved. Gome what - Sight, she could never doubt that heMas beis and alie his, united by a, divinely . n»ade taw of affinity, such, as that by "ivlueh- two chteniicais will rush together %nd become one. Fantastic, unnatural as , the conviction might seem when regarded -W the light- of worldly vvisdom, still it remained unshakable in. Oora's mind and ■ jbearfc. After a while the sprsnis that tore her feeble body became less violent, till by-end-bye they ceased, and she lay ex ih&iasfed and very still with her face turned to the pillow. She wept on out of sheer ' ■weakness," but so silently that when Susan -looked ht later she went away again satisBed that her sister slept. The feeling pi Susan's nearness made Oora weep more freely when stoe was alone again, and the. tears brought her relief. She was troubled at theknowledge that Susan had Viiscovered her secret,, and t±is increased Jier loneliness, for she could not expect sympathy with what her sister would consider a phase of madness- Oora understood Susan,- perhaps, better than Susan understood herself. Oora had always regarded with tolerant scorn, Susan's pretty _ notions concerning destiny, love, and the -romance- of the bush. It was curious how heredity translated it-self m the two sistens ; in the elder the fatefubiess of the JNortb was reproduced in, a sort of Book " -of Beauty style,- Southern passion, and fJaelic mysticism making a fiery blend m the younger. Added to these for a household mixture Patsy's Irish Puritanism, and one had heterogenlous elements indeed! Oora guessed that her own late soul-stir-ring experience would seeni to her sister and stepmother improper and incomprehensible. Neither Patsy nor Susan were .women likely to snatch their^ souls' mate from the verge of the Infinities. In spite of .Susan's poetic flights above conventional limitations, both she and Patsy were essentially " purdah women" — the kind who could, have been content behind the curfcain had' their country legalised the custom _nf female seclusion and left them no power to go forth and choose a spouse. They knew nothing, thought' Oora, of that rapture of- self devotion which holds death jind,hell of no account in comparison with ' the beloved — nothing of that wondrous lifting of the veil between the souls of men and women, when each soul for the first, time- recognises the other as a portion of itself. They had never even vaguely felt that which the •voice of Nature speaking in her heart had taught this child of Nature — the oneness of the Divine creative force alike in'the universe and in man. . Always to them, as indeed to most people, there hung the veil which divides wooer from wooed, husband from wife, parent from child, sister from brother — separating every individual soul from the one standing nearest. That there were good strong men in the world capable of loving pure and gentle rwomen bot'n faithfully and tenderly, Oora knew well enough, and such love &he hoped would fall to Susan's share. But this kind of love was not such as would dray the sting from *hame, wash away every ap•pearaxLce of sin; sweep aside every obstacle, rind,- lighting the darkest ways of life, wing its triumphant course straight to heaven. Only^such loveas that would content Oora Galbraith, and such 6he believed 1 was the love that the sea had given' her. And then came the horrible thought — what- if the sea had claimed her beloved pack"! What if he had been drowned after ilk her efforts to save him. Forgettimg )hatit had been for his sake she had swum Way, Oora now regretted bitterly having Jeft him to the mercy of those two churlish men who to make room for themselves )night so easily liave pushed him from the biece of grating into the sea. The mere terror of this threatened to throw Oora into hi^h fever again, and the dread of

falling back and perhaps losing consciousness anew helped her to keep the grimmer dread at bay. She felt that she must use every means in her power to hasten recovery. She could not endure more days and nights of drowsy stupor, of half delirious nightmare, or at best, of futile speculation. She must learn the truth, an<* for that she must get -well enough to go outside these four walls that kept her prisoner. A sudden fleeting rush of energy seized her. She tried to raise herself from her bed, but power failed, and reason tod her it was impossible. First, she «must gain physical strength. Oh ! never before had Oora so longed to be strong. She wanted strength to breast the world if need were — as she had breasted the sea — so that she might hold him again to her bosom and know that he was safe there and entirely her own. But she was a practical young woman, and though this last reflection brought a dreamy sense- of sweetness that would 1 proj bably have lulled her into sleep, she felt j instinctively that the first thing she needed i was physical nourishment. Food would make her strong ; there would be plenty of time to dream after that ; so she sat up in bed, and by the shaded light of a, kerosene lamp which had been left in her room she surveyed the contents of a tray beside her, on which kind, careful J*atsy had placed another cap of beef extract, which by "this time was in a lukewarm and partially jellified condition. Oora did not mind that. She took a spoon, and pretty soon the half -cold mess had dieappeared. Oora gave a sigh of satisfaction, for no consomme surely ever tasted half so good ! Then she put back the cup, and reconnoitred to see what else she could discover to devour. A paper bag that looked like biscuits! Oora peeped in, and began on the biscuits without delay. She had been so busy with her thoughts that she had not noticed the murmur of voices on the verandah. But now ncr attention, momentarily wandering from her immediate needs, was caught by the tones of Brian's voice. Oora had her own ways of judging people, and she liked Brian's voice. It was round and full, and contrasted pleasantly with the hard northern burr, blended with the Australian drawl of Meiklejohn, who also hailed from the " land o' cakes," but whose accent had never lost its roughness and provincialism. Brian was numming the air of some song — a fo'c'sle favourite — very softly, so as not to disturb the supposed sleeper, but the lilt of its refrain pleased Oora, and she tried to oatch the words. It was about a young lady who, in direct opposition to the rules of the Admiralty, had taken a cruise in a British man-o'-war, and after .ihe fashion of Bab Ballad heroines had captured the susceptible hearts of the entire ship's company, who danced to her piping until she ultimately tested their loyalty by taking a header into the sea. At this exciting juncture, Oora touched a tiny bell beside her, and when Susan, flushed' ami smiling and full of excuses, came- to her door, the invalid merely said, turning comfortably on her pillow, " Ask him to sing out, please. It does me good." Nothing loth, Brian trolled in a rousing baritone — Over went the captain, Over went the erew — The first mate, the second mate, The little middies, too ; j But abe couldn't marry them a'l, she said; So — what was the girl to do? Oora smiled to herself as she listened. There was something veiy cheery about the sound of this light-hearted singing. She felt sure that she should like the singer, and began to look forward to making his acquaintance on the morrow. That it should not be delayed she was determined, for she fancied that she had found in him a link with the outside world — one by which she might discover what had become of Wolfe. The singer, whoever he was. evidently belonged to the genial, lighthearted type of British tars — one who might safely be expected to sympathise with distressed maidens, and even to lend timely aid in bridging the gulfs that separated them from their lovers. Not the sort to have a secret sorrow of his own ; but perhaps that was -all the better, as he would not be brooding on it. Oora never stopped to consider whether he was really in love with Susan. It did not matter for her present purpose, which was to make use of him in the finding of Wolfe as j speedily as possible. Young people arc apt to be selfish, and it made no difference to Oora that she might interfere with Brian's own plan of campaign. He was keeping himself well in hand to-night, yet there was a world of ringing tenderness in the { song that afterwards lulled Oora. to sleep — See there she stands, and waves her hands upor the quay! ' Yeo— ho, lads! Ho!^ Yeo— ho! There's none- li&e Nancy Lee, X trow. The sailor's wife the sailor's star shall t>e — shall be. And Oora slumbered sweetly — a deep refreshing sleep — dreaming that a party of

British bluejackets brought her back her lover, and that she and Wolf", were wandering away together into a new land, singing out of sheer gladness a song which they seemed to have learned long ago. No one else could understand it, but then the words did not matter one bit. (To be continued.)