“BALDOVIE."

South Canterbury Times, Issue 6260, 5 July 1890, Page 4

“BALDOVIE."

LITERATURE

A TALE OF CRIME AND MISFORTUNE. Skipper Culrosa stood brooding long, as he gazed in the direction wbichMise Carmichael and his daughter bad taken. Suddenl y the sfipper roused himself, as if he had at last got an idea out of his brooding, and called bis steward. ‘ Look here, Sandy. I want you to go up to the Carmichael’s place, and ask lor Mr Feuerheed.’ ‘Ay.’ ‘ Tell him that I want particularly to see him to-day, if he will either come here or say when I would find him at his own house.’

‘And if Mr Fireheed shouldna be inP’

‘ You can ask when he will be in, and go back.’ Sandy departed on his mission, and the skipper now took a sip at his dram to assist him in his cogitations. The result was still unsatisfactory. In spite of all Marget had said, he could not conceive why Feuerheerd should desire to conceal from him the fate of Will Carmichael.

But there was a point to be cleared up—he persisted in saying that the man was alive, whilst he refused to give any more information about him than that he was skulking somewhere to keep out of the way of Jess. This explanation had appeared to Culross at first, in his passion, as likely enough ; but now he began to believe that it was not a true one.

‘ Well, we must try to have it out to-day,’ he said decisively, impatient ol suspense and delay. ‘ Maister Fireheed is coming in hall-an-bour,’ was the message brought back by Sandy. In less than half-an-hour Feuerheerd was in the cabin of the Camperdown, smiling, as if delighted to haye the opportunity for .a quiet chat with his friend.

‘ Glad your messenger came when 1 bad an hour to spare; and it is a relief to get out of the worries of the office, aad into your snug quarters.’ ‘ It wa« lucky you were free-——’ ‘ Free !’ interrupted the visitor. ‘ I am never free, but I can occasionally contrive to pay truant for a little while. My responsibilities have bean so great since Carmichael died that I am beginning to feel fagged, and wish I could get off on a trip with yon. I shall break down if I do not somehow get a rest, even for a few weeks.’ Here Sandy Ogg, .who retained the old-|ashioned Scotch notion of hospitality, placed the whiskey on the table ; and the guest, with the air of a, man who is exhausted by bis labours, helped himsell sparingly, however, and using plenty of water. ‘ You need not come down again, Sandy, unit es I call,’ said the skipper. This was a most unusual command, and the man went slowly up the stairs, with the conviction that something was going to happen. Culross turned to his companion. ‘I am getting' fagged to, but it is with hanging about here idle and without knowing what is going tc be done. Why are you keeping me here P' Feuerheerd regarded him with an expression of utmost astonishment. * Weil, upon my word, Culross, that is rather a droll question from you ! 1 thought you wanted to wait here until we have bad news oi the runaway, Will.’

‘ Ay, and you promised to find that news for me ; but there has never been cheep more than you told me at the first. How is thai. ?’

l lf you will tell me how to give you news which I have cot been able to obtain, I will answer your question,’ said Feuerheerd coolly. Culross beat bis elbows on the table, and stared bard in his companion’s lace* * Will you answer this, then? Why is it you keep on telling me that you are sura Carmichael is still alive, when you have given in to the opinion of others who think he is dead V

Feuerheerd answered the words and the hard look with a little laugh. ‘Do you think 1 am going to run against the ideas of a set of hysterical women who might be right in the end? If they are more satisfied in thinking that he is dead, why should I disturb their minds by insisting upon my view of the case, which 1 thought was sufficiently unpleasant to prevent you from asking me to repeat it ?' Culross winced, and be put bis next question huskily : * Will he ever come back?’

* No, I am sure of that —or almost so. But we shall hear Irom him when he wants money. That is why I said that I expect to be able to give you newe.' * Have you any idea where he may be?' asked the skipper slowly, and still keeping Lis eyes fixed on Feuerheerd’s face.

But that face was as calm as if he were discussing the most ordinary question, and be even smiled as he answered ; ‘Yes, I hare an idea. 1 should say, knowing his character, that he is somewhere in the wilds of Africa, enjoying himself with his gun, and seeking diamond fields.’ ‘ How do you know that V ‘ I have told you—because I know tha character of the man. But what the deuce.is it you are driving at, Culro.ss 7 Have you been making an extra dram,' or have you got anything on your mind ? If so, out with it.’ The perfect calmness of the man irritated the skipper, and he lost the game. He brought hia fist down on the (able with an angry thud. ‘ Ay, there is something on my mind,' he said gruffly, ‘ and it is that you ken all about Will Carmichael. I put the plain question—what have you done with him?’

A pause, TWrlieerd gazing sternly at the flashed and frowning face. ‘ Do you know what you are saying, Culroas ?’ he asked in a firm, but aggrieved voice. ‘ I ken brawly.’ The skipper, like other Scotchmen, returned to his native vernacular when jn a passion.

‘I will not believe you do, until you say it when you are in a calmer mood,’ rejoined Feuerheerd gravely. * But I will tell you what you have forgotten —the many good turns I have done you when others held off from you. 1 That was true, and the skipper was staggered at the thought of his own ingratitude. He. without sufficient grounds or proofs of any kind, was accusing this man of he did not know what crime ! Had Feuerheerd shown the least sign of quailing or agitation, had he grown pale or red, Oulross would not have faltered. He had put this question at hazard, in the expectation of seeing some ot these signs ; but none ot them had been manifested. He was again at sea m a fog, without a compass. ‘ I have told you,’ proceeded Feuerheerd, rising quietly, * that I think I do know all about our missing friend, and what that amounts to you have already heard. Ask th® Fiscal, ask Dalgleish if they can tell you more. Good day.’ * Good-day,’ echoed the befogged Culross,

‘Of course you understand that I shall forget all the nonsense that has passed between us to-day, and hope you will do the same. And, by the way, the destination of the barque will be Spain. Full instructions can be ready in two or three weeks. And Feuerheerd went away, with the dignity of one who had generously forgiven au insult. To he Continued . i