LITERATURE.

South Canterbury Times, Issue 4443, 20 July 1887, Page 4

LITERATURE.

HALVES.

CHAPTER VI. BROTHER ALEC,

BY JAMES PAYN,

author or “ ZjOST sir massingberd,” "a perfect TREASUEE/'l/'AI ker merct,” &c., &c.

The explanation that 1 had promised myself to obtain from Gertrude had, after all, to be postponed, for it was impossible for any of ns to speak or think that evening, except of “ Brother Alec. ” He was by far the most interesting and striking personage that had come within the range of my small experience, and the effect he produced upon us all was prodigious. Mrs Raeburn, ; ; in particular, entertained, or affected to entertain, a very grave interest in her new-found brother-in-law, though it was manifested with her usual caution. She made no pretence to affection for him ; she could not even overcome her niggardly disposition so much as to offer him refreshment.

“This room smells unpleasantly of dinner ; had we not better go into the drawing-room ?” was all the allusion she made to food : but she listened to him—especially when he spoke of bis own for-tunes—-with rapt attention, and watched him like a cat at a mouse-bole.

As generally happens when a man returns to bis own country, after long and distant travel, brother Alec’s talk was at first confined to questioning those who had remained at home, and afterwards to his own later and English experiences—how be bad fared at Southampton ; how the swiftness of the London express had astonished him; how the official bad tried to compel bis dog “ Fury ” to travel under the seat (which, however, a stationmaster and four aids bad entirely failed to accomplish); and how bis fellow-passengers had stared at his parrot, and laughed to hear it enter into conversation. We were by no means astonished at these two last statements.

*• Where did you get that dog from, Uncle Alec?” was one of John’s first inquiries. “ Ah, my pretty Fury 1 ” returned the other. This dog, by-the-way, was of super canine ugliness. His immense weight seemed to have bowed out his legs even more than is customary with bull-dogs ; his head was very nearly of the same size as bis body ; and be bad no tail whatever, but only a stump, which protruded in such a manner that it needed most careful adjustment before he could sit down. The most remarkable feature, however, of this attractive animal—l say attractive, because it was impossible to withdraw your attention from him for a single instant, if be happened to be in your neighbourhood—was his eyes, which were fearfully bloodshot, and seemed to resent the fact that they had been fitted into inappropriate sockets. They were not large eyes, whereas the sockets were very large, and the unoccupied portions of the rims were red and ragged, which heightened exceedingly the truculence of bis general expression. “My pretty Fury, yes; he was the first thoroughly English face, as it were, that saluted me when I touched the land. His master was bound the next day for a foreign shore, as I found upon making acquaintance with him in the afternoon, and one of bis chief regrets was that his dog conld not be taken with him ; be bad no friend that really loved the animal with whom he conld leave him with confidence, and since it took a marvellous fancy to myself, he made me a present of it. For all its formidable looks, it would not hurt a child. ” “ That is not so much consequence to us,” observed John, rather pertinently, “as that it will not hart grown people.” “ No, no, it will hurt nobody ; see bow it already has taken to Miss Floyd yonder,” observed its owner, “and is licking her band,” which indeed it was; and a more complete contrast of Beauty and Beast than the pair afforded it was impossible to imagine. “ Fury is as harmless as (Jhico here,”

Obico was the parrot, who, on hearing his name pronounced, pressed his scarlet bead against his master’s cheek and clawed bis waistcoat lovingly, and, being answered with a finger of acknowledgement, took it

with all care, And bit it for true heart and not for harm

“ That is surely not a common parrot, Mr Raeburn, ” observed Gertrude, admiringly. “ You are. right, my dear young lady, though I must beg you to call me cousin, as you do my brother. It is a very uncommon parrot, as I have had to explain to everybody who has seen him. Ido not believe there is another such a bird in England. He is called the Night Talker, because all night long he makes conversation with himself, and is generally silent in the day, though my locomotive habits of late have put him out. The kind is rare even in the place from which I brought him ; which, by-the-by, I have not yet named. For these last five-and-twenty years, while you have thought me dead, Mark, my home has been in Pern. ” “ Pern 1 ” exclaimed wo all. It seemed so strange that be should speak of home in connection with so outlandish a country.

Let observation with extensive view Survey mankind from China to Peru, was the couplet that at once suggested itself to me. 1 bad read but little else about it. “ I have been living at Cuzco,” he continued mildly, “ which, as perhaps you may have heard, John, was the ancient residence of the Incas.” “Black people, are they not ?” replied John, tentatively. He had a general notion that persons born out of Europe are black, and perhaps be thought Incas were spelt with a k. “ Indeed they are not,” answered Uncle Alec, smiling. “ They are of a beautiful bronze colour ; at least tho natives are, the upper classes being Spanish, I bad thought, until an hour ago”—here ho bowed with a certain quiet grace that made one forget his absurd surroundings altogether, and, notwithstanding his illfitting and hastily-made European garments, showed the true gentleman within them—-" that no woman in all the world conld be compared with the Peruvians for loveliness,” “And is it possible, sir, that yon should have lived among all these beauties for so many years,” inquired

Mrs Raeburn, in a tone of raillery very foreign to her tongue, and which, as it seemed to me, was adopted in order to conceal the interest she felt in the expected reply, “ and yet remained unmarried 7 ”

“No, madam,” answered Uncle Alec, with grave frankness. “ I was a bachelor for many years ; the remembrance of one I bad left in England”— he kept his eyes fixed on Gertrude with such sorrowful tenderness that it was easy to gness that he was alluding to her mother—“ was too strong to be easily broken ; bat in the end the present outwore the absent, and 1 married. ” “ Did you have any children ? ” inquired Mrs Raebnrn. The whole topic, it was plain, was painful to her brother-in-law ; but no consideration of such a fact bad any influence with that indomitable woman.

“ I had one baby boy, and when he died his mother died with him,” answered Uncle Alec, in a voice that went to oar hearts.

There was silence amongst us all. while the tears stood iu tender Gertrude’s eyes, and. Mrs Raeburn sighed—a very satisfactory sort of sigh indeed. I had not forgotten her husband’s revelation at my aunt’s table, of the facts of which she bad doubtless long been cognisant, and by that light it was not difficult to read to what end her questions had been put. If Uncle Alec were poor, I knew her well enough to feel convinced that he would find himself no better off by reason of the solemn covenant made with her husband thirty years ago ; but if he were rich, and without incumbrance in the shape of wife or child, it would be worth her while to conciliate this man—frank, impulsive, simple-hearted, as he seemed to be—to the uttermost. Mark, on the other hand, had asked no questions of his brother, bat, with bis eyes fixed constantly upon him, had stood with his chin in bis hand, bis usual attitude when in thought. He was now, however, the first to break silence.

“ You have never told us, Alec, how it was that for all these many, many years we have heard nothing from yon, and had learnt to think you dead. How was it?”

“ That is a question hard to answer, Mark ; having to go so Ug back in my mind for the materials of the reply. It was something of this sort, I think, however. When we two last parted at Southampton—you have not forgotten that occasion, Mark ?”

“I have not, brother,” answered the

attorney, a slight flush rising to his face, which bad been deadly pale. “ When we parted then, you remember bow light and buoyant were my spirits ; bow sanguine I felt of coming back in a few years, with a fortune reaped beyond the Atlantic ; bow confident 1 was in my youth, and strength, and wits. Well, not only did I reap no harvest in the field 1 bad selected, bat I lost there the few grains—you know how few they were, for you had the like—which I had gleaned at home. You said it would be so; you advised my staying here in England, and showed how, standing shoulder to shonlder (as we should have stood. Heaven knows), we might have pushed our way in the old world ; and because your warning had been justified, and because I had a devil of pride within me, 1 could not bring myself to confess the truth—that you were right, and I had been over sanguine. If I succeeded, I said, then I will go back to Mark, with both hands full of gold, and one hand full for him ”

“ One moment, my dear sir,” interrupted Mrs Raeburn, with a smile almost as wide as the boll-dog's ; “ entranced by your interesting talk, and overcome by the emotions natural to the occasion, I have, up to this moment, wholly forgotten that, yon are not only our brother, but our guest; your journey has been a long one, and yon have doubtless much to tell. Do let me offer you some sherry and a biscuit, until something more substantial can be got ready.” “ Thank you, dear madam, I have already dined,” answered Uncle Alec, courteously ; “ but if you would be kind enough to get something for Fury, here ; he likes a beefsteak, underdone, better than anything ; and a little something hot for my serpents ” “ Your servants 1 ” ejaculated Mrs Raebnrn, with an involuntary groan. "I did not know you had brought any.” “ Nor have I, dear madam ” (I noticed be never called her *• Matilda ” after that first time) ; “ though, in one sense, my serpents are my servants, since they do whatever I bid them. In those flat boxes left in the hall, there are a couple of diminutive anacondas, who have been my companions throughout the voyage, and, indeed, have occupied the same berth. They are perfectly harmlees, and require nothing bnt warm bread and milk, with an occasional rabbit,” “ He means Welsh rabbit—toasted cheese,” whispered John, in my ear. “As for bis parrot, it requires human flesh, and will begin with my mother’s cheek.” That remarkable bird, indeed, evidently regarded our hostess with no favour, and was craning towards her from its master’s shoulder, with open beak and raffled plumes, ia a highly cannibalish way. “ Soft, Chico, soft,” said Undo Alec, rebukefully ; “if you happen to have a cocoa-nut in the house, dear madam—but, no, that is not likely : a fine fig then, or even an orange, will suit him admirably. ” “ I will get an orange for him, and attend to the other things, Mrs Raeburn, if you will give me the keys,” observed Gertrude, “so that you need not leave cousin Alec. ”

Our visitor cast on her a grateful look, doubtless more in acknowledgement of her having used that title, than of her readiness to supply the wants of bis favourites, about which there probably seemed to him no sort of difficulty. But Mrs Raeburn’s countenance was a study. The idea of giving beef-steaks to tho dog, bread and milk to the serpents, and a fine fig to her declared enemy, the parrot, was almost intolerable: yet the thought of that “handful of gold, ” that was to have been, and perhaps still was, for Mark, overcame her repngnance, and with a muffled groan she surrendered her keys. “ Well, Mark, ” continued his brother, *• I made up my mind, as I was saying, to send you no news of me, unless it was good news ; and, alas! the ‘good’ was years and years in coming to me ; so long that I grew ashamed, and almost afraid of writing at all. It is a lame excuse, I feel,. But yon don’t know—l thank Heaven you have never known—-

what a change can come over a proud spirit, bent beneath the yoke of almost unremunerated toil, bowed by degrading servitude, crushed by the pitiless feet of those whom it would fain have despised, You, who are rich, respected, and surrounded by those near and dear to you, cannot understand what happens to a lonely, friendless, poverty-stricken creature, such as 1 was ; how hope dies out within him, and the bitterness of despair enters in instead, and turns his blood to gall. I loved you, Mark, at all times, even at my worst, bnt it was a different sort of love than that of old ; there seemed a gnlf between ns, and as I was changed, 1 knew, so I thought might yon have been. If I bad had the means to have come back, haggard and ragged as I was, I should not have dared to doj it, lest my welcome might have been cold, dear Mark, and all that was human in me, still, should have been

frozen by it. I did yon wrong, yon would say,” added the speaker hastily, laying bis band upon the other’s shoulder *• I know it, nay, I knew it then. Forgive me, and forget it. ” It is impossible to reproduce the tender earnestness with which these words were ottered. The attorney’s face showed signs of an answering emotion, though a certain hesitation seemed to mix with it, that made it very unlike that of his brother. Even “my son John ” forbore to ntter bis illtimed pleasantries ; and Mrs Baeburn kept a silence, which was really creditable to her in the eyes of those who knew bow strongly tempted she must have been to expess contempt. “ And when was it consin Alec,” inquired Gertrude, softly, “ that your fortunes began to mend ?” “ Thanks, Gertrnde, thanks,” said the old* man. “ I am grateful to you for catting short the recollection of a greivous time—of such dark and weary years, that they o»st their shadow even on this happy present. My luck did change at last. A southern gentleman, whom I bad the good fortune to rescue from some unpleasant customers in New York one night became my friend. It was perhaps sent as a reproof to me, Mark, that the talents on which I had reckoned so proudly to win my way in the world were fated to go for nothing, while my mere thews and sinews placed me on the first round of the ladder of prosperity. This gentleman who bad a great estate, and was a politician of some mark in his own country, made me his secretary, treated me in every respect as his equal—for which I felt more groatful to him than for all besides—and took me to New Orleans. I felt another man there ; recovered my self-respect and found to my great joy, that I could make myself useful to my benefactor, Mr Pittsburg. My salary was liberal, and thanks to him I was introduced into good society, nnd began once more to hold my head up in the world. “ It was a life not only new to me, but one that would have seemed strange to any Englishman. Among the rich were the greatest luxury and idleness ; no literature, no arts ; no business was ever transacted among them ; splendid hospitalities, diversified by quarrels and duels, alone occupied their time. There was a young man of my own age, a planter, named Bedman who was said to have killed a dozen men with bis unerring pistol, and who was greatly respected in consequence. His estate bordered upon that of Mr Pittsburg, and he was constantly, though, I fancied, not a very welcome visitor at bis house. Mr Pittsburg had a son, a mere stripling, whom be passionately loved, and for whose sake I soon found out that he kept on friendly terms with Bedman, lest be should pick a quarrel with the lad, and add him to bis numerous victims. For this reason I have no doubt, it was that when this Bedman behaved himself very contemptuously towards myself—taking advantage, as no other men did, of my dependent position—my patron besought me not to resent it. I obeyed him. I protest that that scoundrel’s insults to me were comparitively unfelt, so much more did I burn to avenge the social oppression which be exercised over my benefactor and his family. He was by nature a tyrant, and his cruelty to his numerous slaves was, even in that country, where a black skin is held of such small account, spoken of, though with bated breath, with reprobation and disgust.”

“Bj persons who had no slaves to deal with, I conclude,” observed Mrs Raeburn coldly. “May,” answered brother Alec, surprised at this unlooked for interruption, “by everybody. Indeed, there were unhappily, but very few persons in Biobmond who had no slaves to deal with.” Mrs Eaeburn concentrated her outraged feelings into one sniff of contemptuous defiance, and the interjection “ Oh,” whereupon her relative assumed his story, I bad been nearly twelve months at Eosemoont, as Mr Pittsburg country bouse was called, when, walking one morning in the grounds alone, my ears were pierced by the most appalling cries of ‘Help,’ and ‘ Mercy,’ Eunning in the direction from which the sounds proceeded, I found myself the spectator of a frightful scene. A negro girl lay stretched upon the ground, while two white men stood over her, one of them was applying a cowhide to her naked flesh. I had seen black men beaten often, but this was the first time that I ever beheld the punishment indicted upon a woman. My blood boiled within me, and, without thinking of consequences, I rushed between torturer and his victim, and confronted him with an indignant, ‘ Stop you coward I’ I thought that it was some overlooker of my patron who was thus indulging bis brutality in defiance of bis master’s orders, for, though by no means what we term a ‘ sentimental ’ man, Mr Pittsburg always opposed himself to harshness in the treatment of his black people. To my intense astonishment (for I thought I stood on Mr Pittsburg’s land.) I found mysellj opposite Hugh Eedman. For a moment be was abashed at my discovering him in the commission of an act which, even among the harshest masters, was usually delegated to their subordinates only.

To be Continued on Saturday next.