THE MAYOR’S DAUGHTER.

South Canterbury Times, Issue 5013, 22 May 1889, Page 4

THE MAYOR’S DAUGHTER.

LITERATURE

Helter-skelter, pell-mell, tumbling, shrieking, cursing, went the mob before the steadily-advancing bayonets, each man, as he ran, wanting very much to know what all the rest were running away irom. On passed the line o i stolid countenances and red coats, until the terrace in front of the house was reached. Here Warriner halted bis men, formed line, and bade them stand at ease.

‘ Why, Bill, it’s like brushin’ away flies, ain’t if, after the work we’ve been havin’ ? ’ remarked a seasoned old campaigner to the man next to him. Bui ‘ Bill,’ a grizzled and scarred old warrior, merely garotted himself in his stiff stock a little more comfortably, and deigned no reply. He evidently thought that in the double down from the barracks he had wasted sufficient breath on the subject.

‘ Captain Warriner, I am delighted to see you,’ said Mr Buddlecombe, who had at once sallied forth to meet his protectors ; and a truer remark the worshipful gentleman had never made. ‘ I shall not forget this night,’ he added, as he seized Warriner’s hand and pressed it warmly. This cordiality was not reciprocated in the same degree by Warriner. He was [olite, and that was all. * 1 don’t think we have yet quite exorcised the demon which seems to possess these unfortunate countrymen of ours, sir,’ he remarked, in tones more official than friendly. *lf you were to read the Riot Act and empower me to take what steps I consider necessary, you may depend upon my acting with the greatest forbearance consistent with ray duty.’ The necessity for drastic measures was unmistakeable. The mob seemed now to have recovered from their panic, and dense masses of them were cominer on with a savage sullen air, as if they were half-ashamed of their easy discomfiture at the point of the bayonet, and were determined to avenge themselves on the handful of men who had driven them like a flock of sheep. As they approached, there was less yelling and shouting but more stone-throwing. Altogether they looked wicked. In the centre of the military, with Warriner standing by bis side, and amidst a constant shower of missilee, several of which struck him, Mr Buddlecombe read the Riot Act, and taen once more called upon the mob,«in the name of the Queen, to disperse quietly to their homes.

Yells and execrations burst from a thousand hoarse throats, and a general rush as if to overpower the little party of order was made.

Hurriedly the Mayor turned to the officer commanding the troops, and by a gesture —talking in the horrible din would have been idle—intimated that the matter was now in the hands of the military. With a formal salute Warriner received over the *rust trom the representative of the civil power, and turning to his men called them to attention.

Many were bleeding about the face and hands, and the air was thick with whizzing missiles, but they sprang to his word of command as if on parade at a general’s inspection. It was not only that they were steady and smart in themselves, but they had seen their Captain proved a dozen times in fight, and, though a youth, he had a wonderful hold on the old veterans.

‘ With ball-cartridge, load,’ was the ominous command that next issued from Warriner’s lips, in a ringing tone that reached the ears of the rioters as plainly as .those of th» soldiers, as he intended it should do.

The bright ramrods gleamed in the firelight and rattled with a horrible significance as they rammed home the leaden messengers of death j and by the time the operation was completed the rioters were streaming away in different directions. Their discomfiture was complete. Ho one was more pleased than Algernon Warriner himself that the dispersion of the mob bad been accomplished without a shot being fired. The rioters being dispersed, there was no time to be lost in attacking the flames, which forlunately had not as yet made much way. Keeping a portion of his men still under arms in case of accidents, Warriner converted the remainder—after they had piled their arms and stacked their accoutrements in Mr Buddlecombe’s hall—into a fatigue party, which at once set to work. The efforts of these men were soon seconded by the arrival, under an escort of a subaltern’s party from the barracks, of two ot the town engines with their complements of firemen ; and in a short time all danger by fire as well as by riot had passed away. Accompanied by Mr Buddlecombe, Warriner, now that duty no longer kept him from where his inclination would have taken him at the very first, sought .Florence and her mother. He found them, ministering angels, by old Bolitbo’s side, as the poor fellow still lay in semi-unconsciousness on a sola. As Warriner entered, Mrs Buddlecombe rushed towards him, threw her i arms round him, and gave him a motherly hug and a kiss. Bat Florry could only murmur, ' 0, Algy ! ’ in broken accents, and then tottering forward she fell into his arms in a dead faint.

* * * * JNever did Duty and Inclination rim more evenly in the same line—a coincidence by no means usual with this ill-assorted pair—than when Warriner, at the Mayor’s earnest request, determined upon remaining lor the rest of the night at the scene of the recent disturbance, together with a section of his company ; while the remainder returned to the barracks under the charge of the subaltern, * * * * A much pleasanter task than, the description of such scenes as our

characters have just passed through now devolves upon this pen. From scenes of strife and terror now turn we to one of general reconciliation and peace. Florence has regained.her consciousness, and old Bolitho is, if not quite himself again, a pretty fair imitation of it.

Not less in Love than in War is Algernon Warriner the man to allow the grass to grow under his feet. In his opinion the opportunity for a definite settlement of the tender point at issue between the Mayor and himself has arrived, and he seizes it with a firm grasp. ‘ Mr Buddlecombe,’ he says, as with his arm round Florence he confronts her father, ‘ I presume that after this night’s experience you have mollified your opinion regarding the necessity for the existence in every country, no matter how civilised, of a standing force of men trained to arms and habits of discipline ? ’ ‘ Hear, hear ! ’ comes from old Bolitho.

‘Your objection to me,’ continues Warriner, * as a son-in-law, because I am a useless member of society, is not now so weighty as it was, probably.’ ‘Algernon Warriner, I shall be as straight-forward as you are,’ returns Mr Buddlecombe. ‘ There’s a Spanish proverb which says, “ A wise man changes his mind ; a fool never.” I should indeed be a fool had not my opinion undergone some change this evening. Take my daughter ; and may you always guard her from evil as promptly and effectually as you, and your red-coats at your back, guarded us all this night. There’s my hand on it.’ ‘ Bravo, Buddie ! Bravo, old boy! roars old Bolitho. (To be Continued .)