THE LOST EARL - - OF ELLAN.

Otago Witness, Issue 2716, 4 April 1906, Page 63

THE LOST EARL - - - OF ELLAN.

A STORY OF AUSTRALIAN

LIFE

By MBS CAMPBELL-PRAED.

CHAPTER XVII.— BRIAX, THE MES-

SENGER.

EIAN Cordeaux bad contrived an easy and effective sort of rickshaw out of a cane aim chair and two unused front ■wheels of a light Amencan buggy that lie found smashed up in the cart shed. He then slung a hammock in a bend of the tropical scrub that came down almost to the beach in Acobarra Bay, and thither a few days later two of the kanakas brought Oora. The ncok was ti sequestered one, though it wai sufficiently near the bay foi her to take her fill of gazing at the wavts. which broke

with a slow boom on the sand. The jetty and low of huts stood a little nearer the headland, and Ooia's letieat was not visible from them or from the house. Here she would spend several hours every afternoon, Brian having rigged up with an old sail a rough shelter for her hammock. She usually preferred being left alone with her books and thoughts. To-day, however, Cordeaux, which was in a restless and not quite happy mood, hovered lound, and came every now and ther to have a word with her. On on© of these occasions he said tj her, in a half bantering tone, but with some genuine uneasiness at the back of it,

"Well, Miss Oora, has the sea brought you the message you wanted yet ?" Oora looked at him will- wistful eyes, gleamdng unnaturally large and bright out of her small, sallow face, which was framed by a mass of rough black hair, with little curly locks sticking up over it and blown by the wind upon her forehead and thin cheeks. • Her eyes and bair struck Brian as the most living things about the girl. All "the rest of her seemed limp and frail to shadowness. .She answered his question by another. "Where's Susan?'' " She's gone with Meiklejohn to look at a riflebird's plumage he's been fixing up for her," Brian answered, his kind face taking on a slightly worried 100k — " that and some other things." '"Will she come back soon?'' continued Oora.

" I should .say that it depends upon how far Meiklejohn can manipulate a led hot needle." "A led hot needle?" she repeated. " Miss Galbraith thought she'd like a chain strung of those hard scarlet seeds with the black spots, which, perhaps you didn't know, some of the blacks use for coin." " Yes, of course, I did know/ returned Oora. "Well, youi s-jster didn't. But she thought they'd look nice strung with the queer-shaped pearls Meiklejohn has been collecting for her, and they're going to try and make holes in the seeds and the pearls with the led hot n-eedle. I gue.-s it will take Meiklejohn some time to do it. . . Miss " Oora, Brian went on, " was your sister always so devoted to wild birds' feathers aiid barbaric necklaces and that sort of thing? If I'd known, I could have brought her an assortment from Namounea." Oora laughed. " You don't know Susan a bit, really, Mr Cordeaux, though you have found out that she is an angel." " Oh, feathers are all right for angels," be put in. " And I shall never go back from my opinion. She's a bush angel.'' Oora laughed again. "Su fancies she is madly ijft iove with the bush, and, that sac

can write poetry about it and put the true meaning to the blacks' legends. But you know. she'd faint at the sight of a Myall black fellow in war paint. I always feel that Su is just cut out to be a great lady in England and to wear diamonds and lace, and all the rest. When she gets the barbaric chain she'll find it does not suit her nearly so well as our giandmotber's oldfashioned jewellery that she generally wears. Now, I'm different. I love queer out-of-the-way necklaces and things " Oora stopped suddenly, and her hand went up to her neck in an involuntary movement that Brian had noticed before. It recalled something to him that was very much on his mind, but of which he had scarcely liked to speak after Susan's prohibition upon talk about the wreck. Oora herself, however, sometimes alluded to that when they were alone, though he remarked that she never did so in presence of her sister and stepmother. He thought that now he might venture on the forbidden ground, and began tentatively. "I saw not long ago the queerest thing in necklaces that would have been exactly to your taste. Miss Oora. You remind me of it somehow. It was greenish, like your eyes, and it was uncanny, too — like you.*'

Oora started forward in the hammock, and her green eyes looked bigger than: ever as they fixed themselves on him. "What was "it made of?" she asked in tremulous, eager tones. "Where did you see it?"

Now he knew that his suspicion had been well founded, and it troubled him. He had been hoping for some explanation of the coincidence that had aroused it. "It was made of jade and those greenish fossil things like eyes," he said slowly, his own eyes upon her. '"Yes, yes,"' she put in. "What else?" "It had a shark's tooth hanging from it— and a man in the boat saidUiat was a black's charm against sharks."

"In the boat!" she cried, catching at his words. "What boat? Your boat? When— where did you see the chain? Tell me quick." "I saw it round the neck of a poor fellow we picked up, with two other men, off a piece of grating in the strait. They were survivors from the Quetta." "Ah!" Oora drew a deep, long breath, that made her voice break in her throat as she asked, "Was he— was he " She did not seem able to frame the question. "He was not drowned, if that's what you want to know, but he was in a pretty bad way. Blair, our ship's doctor, had him taken over to Thursday Island, and gave him into somebody's charge there. 1 don't know what happened afterwards — the ship went away, and, as you know, I've been on leave. • . . There, now. let's change the subject. I wish I hadn't bu'id anything about the blessed thing." For a fit of nervous trembling had seized Oora, so that for a minute she could not speak. Cordeaux saw that she was violently agitated, and was puzzled and rather pained by the exhibition, remembering the remarks of those two other men on the raft. At last she said in accents of piercing reproach, which seemed to him quite unreasonable, "Why didn't \ou tell me before? Oh, why didn't you" "How should I know you wanted me to tell you? Besides, your sister asked me never to talk about "the wreck. She said the doctor had forbidden it. And now I\e done it. and what will they say to me ior upsetting you like this?" "Xo, no — if you could only realise the relief of feeling sure that he is safe. Of course he's alive. I'm not afraid now. Do you think Fate would ever have let him be saved in that way just for him to die directly afterwards, or me either?" Oora's speech flowed recklessly now, and, Cordeaux listened with a harassed countenance. Suddenly she threw a frightened glance to either side along the shore of the bay. "Nobody's coming, is there? Listen, you're not to say a word about this to Susan, or Pat, or anybody. They couldn't possibly understand But I'll tell you. Somehow I felt from the first moment that you'd help me. I meant to speak to you. That was why I wanted to be certain that the others wouldn't interrupt vs — when you asked me if I'd got my message from the sea. You're the sea's messenger. The waves have told me so since I've been down here the last da}' or two. Then you began at once to speak about that chain — and everything was clear to me." "I wish everything was clear to me," he answered dubiously. "At least whether I ought to let you go on talking of this. At all events it seems that you know all about that curious chain with the charm."

"I ought to know," she answeicd. ''It was mine. The blacks gave me the charm." "Then you — you were the girl who " He stammeied and reddened, dropping his eyes before Oora's ga/:e. But she faced his bravely.

"What have you heard about it all?" she asked.

"I — I gathered that you acted in the most extraordinarily self-sacrificing and heroic way. I understood that the man couldn't swim, and that you must have supported him all through the night on that bit of grating — he being unconscious. . . And then, when you were joined by two other men, who had a pole, you swam with it on your shoulder, tow ia^ and steering your bit of a raft." "Yes, the other two men were cowards." " Brutes — foul-mouthed brutes ! They deserved a sound kicking.' 7 At his words the red blood rose hotly in Oora's cheeks. Brian saw it, and went on in hasty explanation. " I thought you must be that girl when I heard of Aisbet having picked you up. and the wonderful way in which you'd kept yourself afloat. It"wa6ii't likely there could be two women who swam as well as you. But aftt-rwaids I— l couldn't believe the thing."

" Because of what those men said of me?

. . . Well, I don't care." Oora raised her he%& with a defiant gǤtiy:e 4 but ths

next instant she bit her lips, showing plainly that she felt shame and anger.

In his desire to spare her he looked considerately away. "Oh ! I didn't pay much attention to what they said." he replied in some confusion. '' But, naturally, when I knew your psople, and had heard more about j-oii, it seemed impossible that her sister " He broke off. hopelessly, embarrassed, and added lamely, as if taking up the subject from a new point of view, "So you put your chaiui round the chap's neck. . Was it to keep the .sharks off him?'' " Yes. . . . And it is a true charm, for no sharks touched me — yet they were quite close" — Oora shuddered. " I daresay you're thinking it all silly superstition, but I believe in the blacks' charms."' " I'm thinking that if you really believed in this one, it was the most extraordinary unselfishness in you to give it to a stranger. But perhaps the man wasn't quite a stranger. Perhaps you'd made friends with him on the voyage." " I'd never spoken to him till we were in tho water. Oh ! I see what is in your mind. Susan would never have done anything so dreadful. But what does it matter that you've not been properly introduced to a pei son or that you've never seen him before in _the body, if your spirit' tells you that you!ye leally known him a long, long tinie'f" "Ah !" exclaimed Brian, arrested and moved in spite of himself. "That was how I felt when I first saw your sister."' "Did you?" Oora looked at him* with quickened inteiest. ''I thought you'd understand — partly. Su wouldn't understand at all. I'm sure she never would have felt in the least like that about you." "Don't you think so?" Brian asked dejectedly. "'"She couldn't," Oora rejoined in an emphatic tone. "She's not that sort. Her spirit isn't, I mean. I suppose," she went on leflectively, " that there are different sorts of souls as well as of bodies. I'm certain that there are some souls who can see the spirit underneath the outside of a person, and each of them will know at once the other soul to which it belongs. But most people's spirits aren't grown enough to see and know. Or, Derhaps some souls are made in pairs and others weie single from the beginning." "' Well, I hope that neither Susan nor I belong to the single lot," said Brian. " I'd rather believe that we belonged to each other." "I daresay you do,"' answered Oora ; '"only Su hasn't fourd it out yet." "It's a delightful idea," observed Brian, "but not exactly original, Miss Oora. A person called Plato discovered that doctrine."' "Vlato may have discovered it, but ho didn't make the different sort-i of souls to start with," retorted Oora. "Well, anyhow, I've heard lots of people pa each Plato's doctrine, especially when they were in love with somebody they couldn't mairy; but I never knew anyone ercept you who said she'd actually tested i*. Surely you don't believe that the man to whom* vow gave your charm is your soul's t%vin?'' "I know it." Cordeaux's half smile turned to an expression of extreme gravity. " That's rather a dangerous notion, Miss Oora. It might get a girl into difficulties, if the man was a cad, don't you see. Besiaes, though jou think you're cocksure, you may be mistaken." "Mistaken!" she cried, her eyes flashing tLeir green flame upon him. " How can you tell that you love Susan? — for I conclude you Love her — or think you do." "I'm quite sure I do," be replied earnestly.

"Yes," you're cocksure!" she rejoined tauntingly, repeating his phrase, and went r.n more seriously. "But how ? But why? Just because there's something in Su and you that's alike and that draws you to her To her only, not tc any other v/oman. You wouldn't care for her if she were me. Su is Su. Oh ! I know — lc\ely, and perfect, and sweet, and never did a thing in her life that wasn't what a nice girl would 'do. ' I've often wished that I were like Su, yet when I think it out I wouldn't change places with her — though I'm -only Oora, ugly and wild and rough and queer. You needn't ■ waggle your head. I know Su Is an angel, and I'm the other thing. Su's wings are all made of soft, immaculate, drooping white feathers, like the ones in fairy books. Mine are made out of wiry, hard, black quills. But mine arc stronger wings than^ Su's— and they take me whcie she can't gc — oway out into the lonely bush and over thi "lonely sea; and the trees and the wind and the waves have taught me things that Su has never learned. "' "You're an uncommonly strange girl "' said he with dec-p inteiest. "I can quite understand a man falling in love — madly in love with you. You'ie quite wrong, you know, in* calling jourself -ugly."' "Oh! That." Ooia shrugged her shoulders contemptuously. "Looks haven't anything to do with it." "No, because you're a witch — a eea v. itch. ' I suppose it was that chap who gave you the name." Oora did not answr. Her eyes were fb c-d on the greeny-white curve of a billow that rolled in and broke on the shore with a booming sound, then retreated, making Mir silky swishing noise o c a receding wave that carried with it water-worn pebbles ivnd tiny shells. "Look here, Oora," he said, forgetting the customary prefix in his perplexity, "do you truly mean that you are in love with this strange man, whom you say you had river spoken to before? ' Accain tho colour flooded Oora's face like a crimson wave; then it sank, leaving her very pale. She did not look at Brian as shf answered .- "That isn't a question for you to ask— of me, nor for me to answer — to you." " Then in heaven's name, what do you want me to help you about?" She meditated for so long that he asked iaipatiently, "Well? 1 And when slxe still

did not answer, he atLled, "You see, there isn't anything I could possibly do." "Yes, there is. I want you to find out if he is on Thursday Island — the Strange Man — and— and" — she waited, stealing a glance at Brian's uncompromising face, "and what has become of my charm.' He looked relieved. "Oh ' so you want it back again. I quite agree with you. It isn't at all a nice thing for the fellow to be carying that about, and perhaps exhibiting an ornament which everyone who knows you well must be aware is yours. You might find it awkward if you were married to somebody else." "He is a gentleman, and I shall never be married to somebody else," returned OSva instantly', but with a calm that was ominous. Displeasme gathered on Brian's countenance. " However that may be, this man ought to be made to give up your property. He fought 6O tremendously, Blair told me, when they tried to take th« thing off, in order to dress his blisters, that they had to leave it on his neck. And goodness knows where it is now. The man may be dead." "He is not dead," returned Oora quiet assurance. "By Jove! he was pretty near it. Blair said it was a bad ease of fever added on to the rest, and he never stopped raving." " Ah !" murmured Oora in a long breath. " I haven't the ghost of a notion what his name is," said Brian. "Have you?" She shook her head. "And he doesn't know who 3'ou areV" She shook her head again. Brian's gloom cleared a little. " I suppose I could find out where he is by asking the doctor over at the settlement in whose charge Blair put him. But your father is the right pcison to tackle the matter." "My father is at Xarrawan. And Patsy is going to take me back there directly." Oora spoke in a reserved tone, and turned on Cordeaux a long scrutinising look from between narrowed lids. "Just so. Well, there's your stepmother. In your father's absence she is your proper guardian, isn't she?"' "Is she?" Oora laughed. "I bet that Pat wouldn't find me as easy to yard on and bail up as a brumby filly." Brian laughed too, but rather uncomfortably. " Besides, I will not have mv dad. nor Su. nor Patsy told one woid about this," broke out Oora fiercely, her green eves opening w ide and brilliant. "If you betray my confidence, Mr Cordeaux, I will never speak to you again, but I will do everything I can to prevent you from marrying Susan. And what is more, if you "won't give me your promise as n gentleman — nnd as n brother" — she artful stress on thf last word — '"to 3.1 v nothing about it, I warn you that, I shall escape in one of those boats over there and go to Thursday Inland myself and do what I want. I'm perfectly capable of that. I assure you."

"I quite believe thnt you're <^" o e . that — or anything else," he icjomed hastily, a disagreeable vision thrusting itself 'upon him of Oora wandering among the motley population of the Settlement, and paving domiciliary visits in search of the Strange Man to the various European and Chinese hotels and dwelling bouses. "In fact, Miss Oora, the gentleman that e-fts you for a wife will have a pretty handful. ..." Brian was visibly embarrassed. He looked nonplussed. * His black brows knitted over thoughtful eyes, and his lips shut displeasedly as he mentally reviewed the position. But after a minute or two he apparently decided to make the best "Very well," he said. "I'll act for you as your brother might if you hail one. As your father isn't here, I da^tsfcy it's as well your sister and step-iaoibe? should not be worried at present cv«v» this business of yours. But yonYi hay« to play fair, and to give me a promise on your side that you won't make a tooi of yourself." But Oora, charmed and ofl her guard, laughed again in an odd, exultant fashion. "Oh! I'lf promise that." Brian looked at her sharply. "You and I may have diffwr-ru opinions as to - what is meant by a girt maki.^ a fool of herself. Mind— yon rails'* £ lei this man know who you arc." "Very well. When I wute to him I won't sign my name." "When you write to him! wpeziMai Brian. "What does that rnetn? I've no intention of mixing myself up with a clandestine correspondence. I'm ready W. find this man if he's at Thursday Island. and to tell him that I am authorised by you to demand the necklace, but I won 0 carry letters." "I don't want him to write to me. But if I were in his place I don't think 1 should give the necklace to a perfst «"> stranger without a written authority from its owner." "He doesn't know your hand-writing, and he doesn't know your name. The written authority might be from anybody." "I don't think so — and he would not think so either."

Brian was somewhat taken aback by het readiness. "You are uncommonly wide awake for a romantic young lady who believes in the twin soul theory, Miss Oora. Might I ask what you propose to say in your letter"'" "Perhaps you would like to read it .' she replied, angrily. "Come, come. Why should we snap ofc each other? You surely don't think I'm such a beastly bounder as to want to pry into your affairs. But, hang it all, this is rather a responsibility for me. It's not the kind of thing a fellow cares about doing for a girl." "Not even a brother for a sister — that is to be."

Oora bent forward, her thin face seeming all eyes shining out of hair that looked alive and her mobile mouth smiling mockingly. Cordeaux thought sh« had certainly a queer power of captive

jion, and was not impervious to it. His judicial sternness departed. All the tiny indiarnbber-like wrinkles began to play about his features as he exclaimed, "You've got me there, and you know it, little sister— that I hope you'll be. If I help you out of this mess, I trust you to stand by my interests with Susan, mind ! That's what you can do to show your gratitude. Of course, I rely on you not to write more than is actually necessary, or anything compromising to your dignity." "I guarantee that my dignity shall be properly safeguarded," answered Oora, with suspicious meekness. "I'll write six lines on a sheet of notepaper, and no more — just sufficient for him to have no manner of doubt as to my ownership of the necklace, and I promise that I will not sign my name!" "That'll do first rate. Honour bright, remember."'

"Only six lines!" she repeated, but there was a ring of triumph in her |And, as a matter of fact, Oora managed to compress her letter within the agreed limit, though it must be owned that she had to write rather small to do it. According to her own ideas, she fulfilled "the conditions stipulated, though it was 'doubtful whether Brian would have thought so. The communication was telegraphic in its terseness. give bearer my chain and charm. If you wish the spell renewed, come -to Air place, Acobarra, between 4 and 6 p.m., the first' day you can after receiving this. A little -way to left of jetty the scrub grows in a curve down to the shore. There you will find your Sea Witch.'

(To be continued.)