THE BARTONS SECRET.

South Canterbury Times, Issue 7294, 25 August 1893, Page 4

THE BARTONS SECRET.

LITERATURE-

r CONTINUED 1

* Have anything in the way ot liquor ?’ There’s fizz a quid a bottle.’

said the boy. ( Bring me a bottle,’ said the Count. TTa eat over his wine till long alter nightfall. The house was almost entirely silent, and no light was brought to him. He struck a vesta to consult his watch, after whac seemed an intolerable time of waiting, and found that it was as yet only nine o’clock. There was a step outside, and the door creaked on its binges. * Heady in half an hour,’ said the boy’s voice. ‘All right,’ Yon Herder answered, * m half an hour.’

In the deep silence which ensued, the fugitive could hear the ticking of his watch and the beating of his own heart. Now and again a lazy wash broke against the piles of which the front of the house was built._ but no other sounds disturbed the silence of the night. Once or twice the holloa , of a distant reveller was heard, but the house itself seemed dead and, except for himself, deserted. At length, when the half-hour had seemed drawn into a month, the boy returned, and with him came the old man carrying a lantern. ‘All lightee?’ the ancient skeleton asked, peering at his guest. ‘Eh?| Boatee leady. Go soon as you likee.’ The Count rose to his feet with a nod and made a movement towards the door, but the old man stretched out the lantern as if to intercept him. 4 Pay first,’ he said. The Count looked darkly and doubtfully from the old man to the boy and back again. * It’s all square, boss,* said the boy. 1 You needn’t have no fear ; the old chap isn’t up to any hanky-panky ; the boat’s there right enough, we 11 have yer aboard in five minutes.’ ‘You know, my little fried,’ said Yon Herder, deliberately, ‘ that I am very much pressed to get away from here. If lam not got away from here I might be tangerous. Perhaps you will be as good as to tell the old cbentlemao., ‘ All lightee,’ said the old gentleman. 1 John sabe. No ellor; boatee leady.’ The Count lingeringly drew a handful of gold from his pocket, and counted down fifty sovereigns into the outstretched yellow palm of the old man, ‘ Better get now,’ said the boy, and under bis guidance the runaway set out, walking clumsily and with some pain in bis heavy and ill-fitting boots. The night was clouded and heavy, and as dark as pitch ; behind them gleamed the lights of the city, but in front nothing was visible save the dull lines of the horizon, and now and then a sudden gleam of the river. The boy took the Count by the sleeve and led him. ‘ I know the way; come along. There’s no danger now, I tell you.’ The bamboo clumps starred and creaked with the strange suspicious noise peculiar to them, though no breath of air disturbed »he night. The Bulky light of the riyer gleamed and disappeared. A night bird a cry which was echoed from great distances. A street organ a mile away struck up ‘ The Girl I Left Behind Me, and the notes, though faint and distant, were distinctly audible. ‘Bound here,’ said the boy, still tugging the Count by the wristband of his coat. ‘Round to the left; there vou see her. She’s got steam up already.’ A black bulk lay by the river bank not more than thirty yards away, a red light gleaming on her deck. 4 Look here, boss, you’re not going to forget me, any way. are you P’ ‘ No, no,’ the Count answered, with his heart knocking against his ribs so heavily that it muffle! bis breathing, and for a moment deprived him of speech. 4 You shall be remembered.’ j JJHe thrust a shaking hand haphazard into hie pocket and drew out a little handful of gold and silver, and clutched it until he came alongside the boat. 4 Here ye are,* said the boy. ‘ There’s the plank; can’t you see where you’re going F * ‘ I baf laid aside my spectacles,’ Yon Herder answered, almost glowering at the boy. He felt in some blind, vague 1 way as if this were the supreme moment and his mo ion almost choked | him. Once aboard the boat he would feel safer, would gather himselt together again, and be his own self once more. The boy guided bis feat and led him along the - broad plank ; a man onboard stretched out a hand to him and helped him to the deck. 4 All right, Patsie?’ asked the boy. , , ‘ All right,’ answered the man addressed. 4 Get, ye varmint.’ ‘ Wait a bit; I haven’t done yet. You’-ve something for me, boss ?’ * Yes, yes/ the Count answered, - hurriedly, and thrust the money be had ready into the boy’s extended palm. The lad gave a wild whoop, broke into a dancing step, and then dashed down the planK into the darkness. ‘ We’vd got . a bit of a cabin, sir,* • said the Count’s unseen interlocutor; 4 if you'd like to come down into it, we can talk business.’ ‘Go on,* Yon Herder answered. • Lead the way.’ The man, seizing the lantern, guided 'Von Herder’s footsteps carefully along the deck, which was untidily lumbered with odds aud ends of all j.6|ts, JHe led him through a narrow ;i, ’wM^an»on-waybelow, and there inducted him idtb a little box of a cabin

in which there was barely room for the two to sit together. The Count squeezed himself round a table which stood fixed in the centre of this minute apartment, and the man, setting the lantern before him, sealed himself on the opposite side. ‘ I’m skipper of this craft,’ he said, ‘and I’ve bad the tip that there’s a' gentleman who has reasons of his own for wanting to get away, I’m told be will pay pretty well for 'he job. Now, I’m provisioned lor a fortnigb*, and I’m game to run to Noumea, and thenif you’d like I’ll get on as far as Fiji: but I shall want paying for it. What are vow game to stand?’ ‘Get me to Noumea,’ the Count answered, ‘ and I’ll pay you one buntret pounts.’ * Make it two,’ said the skipper. * Make it two,’ the Count answered. It was not worth his while to haggle over a hundred pounds whilst his neck was in danger. Money was easily to be made again, according to his experience, but once in the hands of justice there was no hope for him. ‘All right, sa'd the skipner. * I’ll take it money nown, if you please.’ * No, no,* said che Count. ‘ I’ll gif you fifty pounts down, and you shall haf the rest when we get there.’ The other cogitated a little, staring at him with knitted brows and sullen eyes. He was a sun-tanned, bearded fellow with a broken nose, and a forehead wrinkled like corrugated zinc com long exposure to tropic suns. ‘ That’ll do,’ he answered. ‘ Plank t down.’

The Count dn w forth h;a pocketbook, and, opening it revealed a wealthy roll of notes. He doled out fifty pounds from it. The man, taking each note between finger and thumb, laid the paper flat, inspected printing and water-mark intently by the light of the candle, and finally folded up the notes and shoved them into his waist* coat pocket, pressing them tightly down with a tar-stained thumb. Then, throwing open the door behind him which he had closed carefully at the beginning of the interview, he said in an ordinary voice : ‘ Go ahead there!’ A voice from the outer darkness responded ‘ Aye, aye !’ and in a minute the boat began to move. (To be continued.)