SHORT STORIES.

Otago Witness, Issue 2758, 23 January 1907, Page 90

SHORT STORIES.

ROMANTIC WILL,

By Robert Rhet.

(For the Witness.)

I.— THE THEORIST.

In certain walks of life, in certain men, the love of romance is a helpful principle, a rich possession that brings to its holder a fine quality of happiness. In other lines an life in other men it is only a foible. In a man like Will Winter romance was a luxurious eccentricity. He was a perfect type of the intellectual labc4Bb; a bold shadow of the advanced worker of the fulure — in a word, toe -wbb a by-product of the higher education. Hard workers, out of a fine sense of the incongruity of the fact, called him ■"Romantic Will." Will "was good to look upon. Endowed 'with the physique of a Roman gladiator, Bie, as a worker, ' was a monument of muscle ; gifted with the mind of a Grecian philosopher, be, a 6 a man, -was a hidoeft mine of intellectuality. Cfoance, however, 4uid made him « common labourer, and th- monument won more appreciation titan did the hidden mine. In his humble way Will was a thinker. His theories on labour were shrewdly picturesque. "Work," he used to say, "is > jto educative doty, and not a degrading SUoee&ity; a divine gift that acts on man fes a corrective curb like conscience. ComMtfcion is the invention of the devil, the jlMe of humanity. The insane greed b*t jjtovs and flourishes in th« mind* of ten Wee a weed has changed work into lb«or, and» ** *b* inevitable corollary, M turned happiness into misery. Wc^rk I » pleasure, but labour is a piunsblflt>tr AH* the respect this didactic wisdom fcwned among friends was promptly paid Er the *yrop»t-betic phrase : " Poor old ImUjr-niHyf'' Inpractioe Romantic Will often found jkk theories impracticable — a common fgK>Dg!b, find made by most theorists. There -was one thing Will saw clearly : 0 earn his bread he had to work hard— 1 truth tJiat made him respect labour— b4fed, until labour become* that fine art Socialists dream of, hard -work is a hun&y man's best friend. To all men it is hejaain toad to true euccess. yfaien Will's theories "went awry and tf&tra* came near to lolling romance, be bad ft simple system, by which X ' «rf^)li*hea peace in his mind. Mm -wouli' avoid labour for a tune, ■fed go Away to find that comforting peace IztS itmigthenixig pleiurare yielded to gfay #Kd roam on tall hills and green KOMJI or sail on heaving seas. By this Wntom tV3W, ere he was 3ty had seen fnautet «verything worth 6eeing. InciEftQMUy, too, he had sampled labour and pranc tanging from hod-cairying to breaching. N«ver in all his wide travels End varied experiences, however, had he Sighted the kingdom of real romance, the Spferry summer laud of bis longings. He wae nearer to it than he knew. H— THE ROMANTICIST. Two vetrt ago Romantic WRI worked (a • gfavel-pit »» North DUgo. He feated the grow practicability of the i jroA. Travel k rough on romance. In k fit of irriUtion. he left the pit, and rent »way on one of his characteristic )iW»im»ge». Will exercued ft curious nethod In selecting a temple of Nature irhereitt to worship at the altar of romance. A wiaard of Bombay had ts>ught lim the trick, which was simple. Will rould go on a tall hill at dawn, where, te le looked to the rising sun, he conren,r»t*d hie mind on pleasing prospects. Dhen after «a elaborate process oi deep i>reathiog be would shut his eyes and *ook upward with his mind's eye! InWatiaUf tbe outline of some pretty landscape would appear to him like a picture. When. Will did this tike morning after Iw had left the gravel-pit he saw- a Sacid inland sea set in a ring of mighty fountains, clad in snow and golden, eonigbt. TOss something like a vibrating 6io» whispered th« name "Lake WakaS ra.'* That was all. It was enough for ill. Be never doubted the accuracy of l lecond sight nor the wise advice of I inner eelf. The Yogi had told him Mice that doubt turned the gift to madtftees. $0 Romantic Will decided to go to |no Cold Lakes. • The morning Will left for Queenstown bunedin looked as the fair city of hie Hr«*m*. The air was clear and mild, and fouohed with summer. The tang of the Mft in it pleased the palate like mellow Wat. Behind the city Romantic Will fair tbe sunlit night-n)i»ts lingeringly lift Rom th* t*ll bills and drift away to the lonely country, like ribbons of burnished lurer.' On tbe green slopes the windows M toe many-hued houses heliographed a jirelcouie to the morning 6un. In the vbtpnei of the hill-ribbed harbour an Ea&tf^tainE steamer moved toward the open •Asa. ThJ» opened the art gallery of WlU'e jtewd. Again, «a in a clear vision, he "Jaw 1 the indefinable charms, of the mystic ■ fiist) *gMU be knew gladness. In an - 4CBt**y pf jonging he took a «c.at in the . frainV wnicn soon started on its journey. • ' Epjnantic, Will wa» always at his best ' when travelling. A whirling landscape as HfeeA fa»tt t, swift-going train fascinated f3m. ISt liked to fancy that, for the '" time, he was a happy fixture while all tke rotated rapidly. And it is good sometimes foT a hard worker to fiit comfortably idle and look on the world at work. -. There was one cloud only in the sumtoer «ky of Will's happiness throughout th© Jong and pleaea&t railway ride tiroijgh. the green heart of the rich landscape. At Wirijga.tui he saw a waggQKn Waded to the »ps with jaravel. The

tiling gave him quite a nauseating feeling about the heart for a time. Romance, 'however, reigned autocratically in his mind, and he soon forgot the vexing intrusion. Th© first sight o! Laic Wakatipu thrilled him to the soul. Here, at last, was Nature's kingdom of romance; here, among the silent bills, was Inspiration Land. He arrived at Queenstown in a fever of longing to break the fetters of circumstance and do great things in the world; do noble deeds of which tie fame would echo in heaven. That night he dreamed a strange dream. He was seated on the wrinkled crest of Ben Lomond in an ecstasy of triumph when a mighty gust of rushing wind lifted him from his noble seat and bore him away on its wings. He was tossed from crag to cliff like -a 6traw. At first the sense of novelty plea&ed him. This was an exhilarating mode of transit. Then he experimented, a little. By maintaining absolute rigidity of has outstretched limbs he round that he could sweep round a cliff like a igull. He liked this. Then another discovery made the thing serious. He found that if ne i^rsayed to descend he hacl no control of his flight. This unnerved him, and for a time he relaxed the trying exercise of muscular rigidity. The wind hurted him against tlie rocks. He tried hard to grip the ragged edges of the cliffs, but always he jabbed the points of his fingers against the rough wall. Soon were his fingers worn down to raw stumps like grated carrots. Oddly enough, he felt no pain, but when the thought of work came to his mind he felt like crying. Just as ho despaired of his life a whirlwind swept him back to Ben Lomond, where he was thrown^ heavily on the grassy saddle. There he lay, bruised and moaning. He cried piteously for aid. Presently a maid, whose eyes seemed to swim ia tears of sympathy, bent over him, and gave to him a drink of ice-cold wat«r. As he raised his blackened stumps to be tended he awakened to see the pal© beams of dawn play on his pillow. He looked apprehensively to his hands. He laughed when he saw that all the fingers were there. Then he got a nasty frig"ht: there was something the ma-ttcr with the thumb of his left hand. The nail was blue-black. Perspiration lay on his brow like dew. Then he remembered how he had bruised it in the gravel pit. He laughed again, and resolved tha| never again would he dine so late and heartily off Lake Wakatipu trout !

He breakfasted early, and set off to climb Ben Lomond. With a merry hieart and clear mind he began the ascent. Long ere he was near the summit he had foTgotten his vivid dream. He climbed steadily. Romance at every step grew stronger in his mind. His thoughts turned to the strangeness of dreams. Whenoe dp they oome? Why do they come at" allx The mystery baffled him, although, he was conscious of a vague belief in hjs mind that, after all, there may be something in dreams.

He was startled by a gruff voice hailing him. He looked upward, and thefe, on a grassy ledgp, he saw a party of tourists. A jovial-faced gentleman, who stood near a maid, beckoned Will to join the party. This Will did. Then one of those strange coincidences which occasionally happen in the most natural way imaginable occurred. The maid stepped forward and impulsively invited Will to accept a. drink of ice-cold water, drawn from the famous hill spring. Will almost cried out as he took the proffered gift. She was Sad Eyes — tie maid of his dream!

III.— THE LOVER.

For tho first time in his life Romantic Will was put out of the characteristic control of his feeling 6. He was flustered like a schoolboy in a classroom of giggling girls. And yet he was distinctly conscious of a tingling happiness that thrilled hia soul. He even fancied that he saw a gleam of pardonable appreciation of his presence in her eyes. Simple Will ! His happiness was vexatiously brief. They were returning to Queenstown. Will felt quite vexed as he said goodbye. Lonely, and moved with longing, Will resolutely olimbed the brow of the hill. The crest *eenied as the- cold peak of bitter disappointment. He could &ee> no beauty, no softness, in the pell-mell of bills which stretched in «very direction to the distant horizon, like an excited ocean. They were only lifeless mountains scowling at proud man for his vain and valiant show of little greatness. Even the immense arc of blue sky seemed nothing but a vaeb dome of impenetrable emptiness— a continent of space in a world of mystery. His thoughts turned on the maid. In her lay the sacred well of true sympathy ; the full fountain-head of pure love. Romantic Will had come into the pleasant country of his intense longing. Romance ruled him like a passion. For a long time Will remained on the inspiring mountain in a sweot stupor of day- dreaming, in which he built many boat 6of success that would take him to the distant shore of fame, where he woiild be justified in wooing this noble maid. 'A maid with such, pure, eloquent eyes must" be noble," theorised simple Will. Sometimes in his dreams he saw roads to success open to him ; alluring by-ways deftly made by the- cunning workers of romantic minds". Soinetlinee, too, common sense told him that a pick was his only prop in life. That vexed him, and he half •wished that the rest of his vivid dream would eventuate. Then a trifling thing cheered him. Far down the steep hillside h? saw his friends go round a bend m the track. He watched them as the eagle marks a bird. His heart leapt in pleasure when he saw Sad Eyes halt for a moment to wave a handkerchief to him, the lonely watcfer on tbe bfll. He was very happy. She w-as a noble Use. Daylight wae entering the mystic avenue of a midsunjjner'f night when Will reached the white Up of Lake Wakatipu, fixpa as it caught and rejected the flickering radiations of {£< settUJiJ BUIi x looked bfce

a pure crystal in a golden vault. Before and around him a noble masterpiece of Nature's art stood out in olear and true ferspective on an ultramarine canvas pf ure ether. Queenstown, in a gently falling halo of soft light, appeared as scattered cluster* of golden, jewels pinned, on a. shield of dark-green velvet. And ever as the sun dipped by imperceptible degrees beyond the snowy turbans of the tallest hills tbe picture answered to the deft process of the eternal orb with manifestations of different subjects in ever-changing shades of resplendent colour showing matchless beauty. The lake was now a* a field of cobalt walled by monuments of ruaset marble, flecked with silver. The arc of cloudless sky looked, like a. half of some huge blood-orange with the edges of its rind cut raggedly ; here and there the early stars peeped through like silver pips. Will was deeply affected by the softened nobility of the wide circle ofwild mountains. The change was like The effect of a mother's love on a brutal man. Then a faint sound like the whispered singing of angels pleased his tuneful ear. It was the low call of the night-breeze coming down from the lonely snow-levels to the sunless valleys. The elves of night had deserted their eerie haunts in the gnarled arretes of the Remarkables, and were iww out to play. Will doffed his cap to feel their cooling kisses on his hair as he walked homeward through a treeless forest of fantastic shadows along with Thought. The stinging chilliness of the swelling wind presaged the nearness of sadness. He almost fancied he could hear the- muffled footfalls of Destiny walking in the future !

After dinner Romantic Will felt happier. He could see how silly he had been over nothing. The affair was only an ordinary coincidence, and, after all, the pleasantness of the maid was merely a common quality of holiday goodwill. "There was nothing in it," he said. He began to contemplate his departure by coach to Pembroke next day with an exuberance that smacked of bravado. New scenes and fresh delights would soon rebuild his citadel of sensibleness. Anticipation of future happiness always softens one's bitterness over bygone pleasure.

Next morning, as he took his seat on the box of the coach, Will had almost forgotten his sentimental softness of the previous day. After all (he thought) the love of a maid could never please a rovmg man like a good smoking pipe and an open road through a merry world of freedom. In future he would keep to these loyal, #ilent friends. And he blew a ring of tobacco smoke to seal his resolution. He watched it curl upward until it broke on a weathercock, and somehow its fate chilled his gaiety. Then a voice that held a ring of cheerfulness which seemed oddly familiar attracted Will's notice. It« owner was the elderly gentleman who had called Will on Ben Lomond the previous day. With 'him were all the other members of the party. They, too, .were going to Pembroke. In the exchange of hearty salutations Will noticed that Sad Eyes looked prettier than ever. He smiled with the vain pleasure of satisfaction as he heard the maid express a decision to ride on the box seat, tie assisted her to step up beside him. The touch of her soft hand filled Will with tender happiness. Her little hand seemed to fit into his perfectly. Quite unconsciously, ere he let her hand free, he gently pressed her fingers. Romance was bolder than the man.

With the passing of the hours the maid and Will became cheery friends. He talked freely and simply of many wonders he had seen in many lands. She listened, charmed and charmingly. She liked his simple directness oi speech, And loved the picturesqueness of narration that, in Will, was a gift. The time passed pleasantly for both.

Long ere Pembroke was leached Will had won the hearts of all the party. And, in quite an unobtrusive way, he also learned their history. And never was he called upon to tell his own. Will was didactically theorising on the future greatness of New Zealand when Lake Wanaka opened to the view. The noble picture silenced him. Away in the dim background the sun was falling behind Mount Aspiring, which glittered like a jewel. In the middle distance the lake lay as a sea of quicksilver. On right and left and beyond steep ranges of purple hills formed a noble crescent. Behind, whence the coach came, stretched' the wind-blown plain, ripped by riverbeds and water races.

Will looked at His comrade. She was radiant with admiration. The colour in her cheeks vied with the russet of the sun-tinted streamers of mist in the sky. A wayward tendril of hair, tossed by the singing wind, wandered about her brow like a sunbeam on a lily. Her pure eyes glowed like stars in a frosty eky. He could scarcely keep from taking her in his arms.

All that glorious evening he felt like a loved king. He retired to his bed, overlooking the star-stabbed lake, in an ecstasy of resolution to woo her if the heavens should fall. But ere he slept an irritating strain of thought dominated his mind. He remembeied that her genial father was. a serious consideration. No doubt he was a, good-hearted gentleman, hut still he looked the kind of father who could say '"No" nastily. The vexing thought kept poor Will awake far into the night. And even when he slept, his slumber was fitful and touched with dreams. The following day life changed for Will. It was a change for the better ; a turn of the road that led to happiness. Early in the morning, when the air was cool and sweet, Will and his friends started on a cruise in a. steam launch to Pigeon Island. Everything promised pleasure. Sad Eyes, whom Will now called Miss Edith, "seemed to rely on him for companionship ; and he filled the part roughlyWhen Pigeon Island came into view, like a block of uncut greenstone in a lake of quicksilver, Will was conscious of a distinct premonition in his mm.d that here on. this beautiful island hill golden hapni-

ness would dawn for him. As the launch touched the crude landing stage, Will and the maid led the way ashore. Together they proceeded to the crest of the hill. The track led through a maze of green shrubs, and Will found a pleasure in watching the easy action of the maid as she walked in front. Half-way up she turned on Will and gaily challenged him to race her to the lake in the head of the hill. And away she ran. Like a happy schoolboy, he followed. He came level with her near the edge of that pretty lake. She looked so bright and happy that impulsive Will took her in his arms and kissed her heartily again and again. She broke away from his hold, and., quivering with indignation, began to rebuke poor Will. But lie looked so innocent and had bo tender an expression' in his manly face that she stopped abruptly and laughed. Will hastened to offer an apology, but the words wouldn't come to his usually glib tongue. Then the others came into sight, a-nd, in their mutual efforts to appear easy m the circumstances, the incident temporarily closed. Even though, he understood how foolish he had been, Romantic Will felt cddly plea&ed. It was his first venture into the pleasant land of Love, and he rather liked it. Hitherto, he had no idea that kissinz was so pleasant. And if all eke failed, he had won a victory that would serve him as a golden memory for all time. For the remainder of their stay on that «- r iT isle of peace Miss Edith avoided vi ill. She was thinking. In the evening, after they returned to Pembroke, Will asked her to walk with him in the garden. She consented, and there in the moonlight, as they walked among the shadows of the trees, Will told her his thoughts and aspirations. Then he sought forgiveness for his boldness. Without compromising herself in any way Edith forgave him. And when they returned indoors there was a look of triumph in WilPs eyes. Two days later Will's happiness died. His friends left Pembroke for the Goldfields. He remained at Lake Wanaka. In the saying of farewell Will found time for an earnest talk with the maid. He tried hard to win permission to seek her when he had proved his worth in the world, but all she yielded was the enigmatical remark that "If their friendship proved to be. the seedtime of Love there need be ho doubt as to the joyousness of the harvest.' 7 And so they parted. Poor Will felt a chilling sense of loneliness as he watched the coach -running away to the distant" skyline. Only one ray of hope lightened the cloom of his thoughts, and that was the parting words of her father: "If ever you come to London (he had said), be sure to come and stay at our place."' Soon had Will to return to labour. He worked Lard to impx-ove his humble posiiidk in the world, but failed to win success. Often he tried hard to .kill his ambitions and longing, but always the thought of the maid haunted his mindThe old stinging unrest troubled him like an uneasy conscience. For more than a year he drifted from situation to situation in the hope of finding one that would be as a highway to the success he desired. But even to the hardest worker existence was all they held. He gave way to despondency. Then a thought urged him to try the wizard's means of finding helpful advice. Though he had lost faith in the trick, he again tried the thing. He climbed a hill and patiently exercised the necessary efforts. And a vision opened to his inner sight that altered his life. In a gaunt valley he. saw a rill of clear water running over a bed of shingle. Then the name "Kawarau Gorge" came to his mind. Half ashamed of his belief in this weird art, Will went away over the old ground which was strewn with so much happiness for him. And, sure enough, in a gully in the Kawjiraw Gorge, he found enough gold to establish him in an affluent position.

He wasted no time in making prepara* tions to go to London. "Now," said Will, "for the golden happiness of Love." On his arrival in the great metropolis he soon made his way to his friends' home. When ■he saw it — a mansion in the centre of a square of elms — his courage faltered for a moment. Then he swiftly passed into the grounds. A warm welcome awaited him. It chanced that Edith's parents were walking on the lawn in front of the house as Will entered. « "Why, it is Mr Winter!" cried the fine old gentleman as he advanced to take Will's hand. In a moment Will was made to feel quite at home. Though Will feltvery liappy, there was one joy lacking. He had not yet seen Miss Edith— liis dear Sad Eyes'. Eventually lie asked her father for information. The answer affected Will like a blow.

"You are jiiftt a, week late," said he ; "she left for Scotland yesterday with her husband."

'How interesting ." said poor Romantic Will, as he bravely bit his lip in ch.istened respect for the romance of lovp. Never, in all his theorising, had ho allowed for the chances of the other fellow.