GUILTY OR NOT GUILTY.

South Canterbury Times, Issue 4981, 13 April 1889, Page 4

GUILTY OR NOT GUILTY.

LITERATURE

CHAPTER LXYI. Past suffering enlightens a man, and makes him tender : and people soon began to walk and drive considerable distances to hear the new vicar. He bad a lake with a new peninsula, the shape of which he altered, at a great expense, as soon as he, came there. He wrote to Helen every day, and she to him. Neither could do anything till the post came in. One alternoon as he was preaching with great unction, he saw a long puritanical face looking up at him with a droll expression ot amazement and half ironry. This stranger called on him and began at once. ‘ Wal, parson you are a buster, you air. You ginn it us hot, you did. I am darned if I ain’t kinder ashamed to talk of this world’s goods to a saint upon earth like you. But I never knowed a parson yet as couldn’t collar the dollars.’ After this preamble he announced that he had got a lease of the island from Chili, dug a lot of silver plate out of the galleon, sold ten tons of choice coral, and a ship load of cassia and cocoa-nuts. He had then disposed of his lease to a Californian Company for a large sum. And his partner’s share of net profits came to £17,247 13s ■which sum he had paid to Michael, for Robert Penfold, in drafts on Baring, at thirty days after sight. Robert shook his head, and thanked him sincerely for his ability and probity. Gfeneral Rolleston and his daughter drove down to see the parsonage. Helen wanted to surprise Robert, and, as often happens, she surprised herself. She made him show her everything 5 and he took her on to his peninsula Bo ! the edges of it had been cut and altered, so that it presented a minature copy of Godsend Island. As soon as she saw this, Helen turned round with a sudden cry of love, — ‘ Oh, Robert! ’ and the lovers were in each other’s arms. ‘ What could any other man ever be to me.’ ‘ And what could any other woman ever be to me.’ They knew that before. But this minature island made them speak out and say it. The wedding day was fixed before she left. Her Majesty pardoned this scholar, hero, and worthy, the crime he had never committed, Nancy Rouse took Joe Wylie without the £2OOO. But old Pentold, who knew the whole story, lent the money at three per cent ; so the Wylies pay a ground rent of £6O a year lor a property which, by Mrs Wylie’s industry and judgment is worth at least £4OO. She pays this very cheerfully, and appeals to Joe Wylie whether this is not better than the other way. ‘Why, Joe,’said she,‘to a woman like me, that’s a-foot all day, ’tis worth sixty pounds a year to be a good sleeper ; and I shouldn’t have been that if 1 had wronged my neighbour.’ Arthur Wardlaw is in a private lunatic asylum, and is taken great care of. In bis lucid intervals, he suffers horrible distress of mind ; but, though sad to see, these agonies furnish the one hope of his ultimate recovery. When not troubled by these returns to reason, he is contented enough. His favourite employment is to get Mr Undercliffs fac-sirailes, and to write love-letter to Helen Rolleston, which are duly deposited in the post-office of the establishment. These letters are in the handwriting of Charles 1., Paoli, Lord Bacon, Alexander Pope, Lord Chesterfield, Nelson, Lord Shaftesbury, Addison, the late Duke of Wellington, and so on. They are admirably like, though of course the matter is not always equally consistent with the characters of those personages. Helen Rolleston married Robert Penfold, On the wedding-day, the presents were laid out, and, amongst them, there was a silver box encrusted with coral.

Female curiosity demanded that this box should be opeaed. Helen objected ; but her bridesmaids ; the whole company sided with them, and Robert smiled a careless assent.

A blacksmith and carpenter were both enlisted, and with infinite difficulty the poor box was riven open. Inside was another box, locked but with no key. That was opened with comparative ease, and then handed to the bride. It contained nothing but Papal indulgences and rough stones, and fair throats were opened in some disappointment. A lady, however, of more experience, examined the contents, and said, that, in her opinion, many of them were uncut gems of great price; there were certainly a quantity of jaspers and bloodstone, and others of no value at all. £ But look at these two pearl-shaped diamonds,” said she j “why, they are a little fortune ; and, oh!” The stone tha*- struck this fair creature dumb was a rough ruby as big as a blackbird’s egg, and of amazing depth and fire. “No lady in England,” said she “has a ruby to compare with this.”

The information proved correct. The box furnished Helen with diamonds and emeralds of great thickness and quality. But ihe huge ruby placed her on a level with sovereigns. She wears it now and then in London, but not often. It attracts too much attention, blazing on her forehead like a star, and eclipses everything. Well, what her ruby is amongst stones, she is amongst wives. And lie is worthy of her. Through much suffering, injustice, danger, and trouble, they have passed to health, happiness, and peace, and that entire union of two noble hearts, in loyal friendship and wedded love, which is the truest bliss this earth affords. THE END.