So Like A Woman.

Southern Cross, Volume 14, Issue 30, 22 September 1906, Page 13

So Like A Woman.

By GEORGE M. FBNN, ’Author of “The Cankerworm,” “Black Blood,” “A Secret Quest, .“Cursed by Fortune,”- “A Woman Worth Winning,” etc., etc.

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SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. CHAPTER I & ll.—The story opens on the third day of the trial. Marie Lisburn is called upon as a .witness. She is reluctantly compelled to answer a question which evidently incriminates her lover, for she appeals for forgiveness and faints. The scene changes to a quarry, worthed by convicts in charge of warders. One of the former, young, and refined in appearance, is halted by his gaoler, a brusque, but good-heartied fellow. Knowing that “904:’' is a gentleman, who asserts his innocence, the warder has allowed him to send and receive letters. Now the convict learns that the turnkey’s wife has ascertained for him that his lady love is about to marry another. Half distracted, the prisoner makes a dash for freedom, bidding his captor if he shoots at all, to kifl. The .warder fires. “Down !” he said, with a hoarse groan. “My worst day’s work in life.” CHAPTERS 111 & IV.—The two brothers John and Will Clifford take their mother and their guests 1 , Colonel Lissburn and his daughter, Marie, and also Mrs Byrne, an attractive widow, up the river in a punt. On their return they find a ■welldressed stranger in possession of the garden kiosk. He claims Will Clifford’s acquaintance. Will grudgingly tells the others that it is a matter of business, and John and Marie leave him and spend a happy hour together. Hurrying up to her room, Marie hears a splash in the river, and also loud voices, but suspects noth, ing. After dinner John Clifiord calls his brother Will into the garden, and asks him very pointedly who was the visitor in the kiosk. CHAPTER V. THE COMING TROUBLE. “Man ?” Will said, looking inquiringly between his half-closed eye-lids ''Man ? What man ?”• John Clifford made a gesture as if to catch his brother by the arm, but he refrained as something in the young man’s look arrested him, and ho paused a few moments in wonder, and as if he had not caught the question. Then angrily, “No shuffling. You know w r hat I mean ; that man ! What’s the trouble now ?”■ Will drew a deep, catching breath, and his brow wrinkled into a defiant frown, as he half-whispered : ■“Mind your own business ! What is it to you ?”■ “Everything, ” cried John angrily. * ‘You have got some great trouble on. When I came into the drawingroom this afternoon you looked as white as if you had had a fit.” “Do you want everyone in the garden to hear what you are saying ?”

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cried Will, in a low husky voice, “No, but I want to hear what you have got to say.” ;; “Aren’t you going to smoke ? - “No, lam not. Now then ; what » wrong ?”- • , T “Oh, confound it all, how sick i am of all this!” cried Will, “What do srou5 r ou want to know ?”- “You know very well.” “ Anyone would think that you were my father and I some little schoolboy.” “Well, fate has arranged it so that our positions are about the same. If I treat you like a schoolboy it’s because you always act like one. Now then, no nonsense ; who was that man ?”- “Friend of mine,” said Will, striking a match, after jerking away his holf cigarette and having a good deal of trouble in lighting another “What did he, want?” “Mind your own business. Curse these matches. They are as damp as damp.”“That is mj r business, Will,” continued John, sternly. “It was plain enough t Q me that you were in some great trouble again, and of course wanted help, so I came back as soon as I had Seen Marie into the house.” John Clifford stopped short, for his conscience smote him with the thought that for the moment he had forgotten his brother and the unwelcome visitor —had thought no more of them till Marie had gone. “Well, you came back as soon as you had seen Marie to -the house,” said Will, huskily, as he passed his tongue over his lips. “And you were both gone.” “Hah !” panted out Will, drawing a breath full of relief. A good proof that you were not wanted, and that it was not your affair.” “No, it was not. Don’t talk like a schoolboy in fault. Out with it ! You are in debt again.” “Look here, are you shouting like this so that our mother can hear every word ?” “No, I am talkiog to you so that she may not hear every word. Now then, I suppose you are badly in debt again, and that moneylender looking scoundrel came down to dun you.” Will was silent save for a low hissing sound as his breath passed between his teeth. “You hear what I say, Will, so now make a clean breart of it, frankly tell me the very worst. If you do not tell me all I swear I’ll throw you over, and will not help you oiit of your scrape. Now then, the trutk. Am I right ?”- “Well, yes, I suppose so,”- sail Will, after a pause. He only holds a bill or two.’’ “And after all your promises !” “That’s right,” cried Will, excitedly. “Shout ! You know Marie a/nd the mater are in the garden, and you .want them to hear.”

“Heaven forbid that they should ! Another trouble of this kind will pretty well break the mater’s heart — you know what it was before. Now then, how much is it ?” Will drew in his breath with a low hissing, sound again. “Oh, not much,” he said, “and you heed n’t begin bullying again, for he’s going to wait.” “Yes, I kjnow,” cried John Clifford, angrily, “promised to wait at the cost of getting you deeper into his debt. Then you have been giving him fresh bills ?” “I haven’t—l haven’t, I tell you. If you will only leave me alone I shall pull through without your help, and after that I am going to drop all the cursed business and run straight.” “I don’t believe you,” said his bro--ther, bitterly. This is wliat you have said a score of times, and it has always been the same.”“Look here,” cried Will, passionately, “I’ll have no more of it. I know T have had some trouble. If it hadn’t been for you I should never have gone wrong. I should have run straight as 1 straight.” “Straight to the betting ring ; the same old cowardly excuse.” “Cowardly excuse !” cried Will, fiercely. “What was a man to do, treated as I have been ? Last time you twitted me with the drink. Wasn’t it enough to make any man fly to it who finds that in everything he has been supplanted by his brother ? Always the favourite. The money in your charge- You the solo executor, forsooth, and ready to acquaint our mother with everything I did, and make me out worse than I was.” “False, every word,” said John Clifford, coldly. “False, eh ? Was it false about Marie ?” “Leave her name out of the question, if you please,” said John ly“No,” cried Will, with his voice growing more and more husky ; “I shall not leave her name out of the question, and one of these days I moan to let her and the colonel know your true character, you mean, cowardly, insidious snake ! ” “Y T ou had better lower your voice,’ said John Clifford, sternly. “Ah. that touches you, does it?” cried Will. “She loved me well enough till you came between us with your false tongue, to slander your own brother and then blacken my character with the colonel till ” “You are not master of yourself, Will,” said John Clifford, coldly, “and you hardly know what you are saying. You had been flying to the drink again before dinner. ” “I had ! ” “Acs, brandy ; and you showed it all the time. Y 7 our acts showed that you were over-excited, and I saw that you taok twice as much champagne as usual during the meal, while the colonel glanced meaningly at me twice over, after we were left alone with the wine. The coming of that man set you drinking to master your trouble ; I know you, Will, thoroughly, by heart. If you were in your right senses you would not be making these false statements against your brother. You have dragged Marie’s name into the front just now, and you must know that she, poor girl, never gave you a thought save as my brother.” “It’s a He !” cried Will, interrupting him fiercely. “She was always kind and loving till you came between.”

1 “There, that will do,” said John, quietly. ‘‘You are not yourself, and in your excitement you treat me as if instead of your brother I were the greatest enemy you had.” “So you are,” raved out Will, ‘‘Exactly ; and so for the mater’a sake I say to you, make a! clean breast of your trouble, and if X can help you out of it I will, i “Ah !” panted the other. “Only, mind this ; it is for the last time.” “Yes,” panted Will, catching at and gripping hard his brother’s arm.; “Yes, for the last time,” he almost gasped wildly. “Jack —1—1” “Well, go on, boy. There, don’t break down in that hysterical fashion you are not a woman. It’s that cursed drink. Now then—come —l>c a man. How much is it ? 'And how much does that scoundrel hold of your’ paper ?” The young man was silent for a few, minutes, and then, with a gasp, he said, hoarsely, as he wiped the cold perspiration from his brow : “I am afraid you are right. Jack, I am not myself to-nigiit.” “No. How much is it, Will ?’ i said his brother gravely. ‘‘NoJ then, how much is it ?” “Two thousand pounds' !” “Two thousand pounds repeated the other, in a whisper. “Oh, Will, Will, how could you be such an idE ot ? You must have been mad.” “Yes—yes ; but —hut he’s going to wait, and ” “Wait, yes I —till he has you at faia mercy for more !” cried John Clifford, angrily. Two thousand pounds! Great heavens ! What is to be done ?” “But. don’t I keep telling 3'ou,”said Will, in a hoarse whisper. “He is going to wait, and “Oh, there you are !” came in the colonel’s sharp commanding voice.; “I have been all round the grounds. Not talking business, I suppose ?” “No, sir ; no, it is all right. Wi,l and I have been having a chat —well, it was of a business character, I supr pose. But anything more we have to say we can easily run over at another time.” “That’s right. Marie is waiting at the piano to 'give us some of my old favourite ballads ; but she would not begin till you two came.” “And come we will, sir,” cried J ohm “But pray, be frank,” said the colonel. “You two were talking business. Marie said something to me about some gentleman coming down “Oh, that was nothing, sir,”- said Will, quickly. “He has gone.” The colonel exchanged glances with the older brother, and then, waiting for an opportunity, he said to him, when they were alone : “la’s bad taste, Jack, my boy, but as I suppose after a time I am to take the place of your father, I know you will excuse me if I give you a friendly hint as to. what I consider to be your duty towards your younger brother. I wouldn’t speak, only, in my career as a soldier I have seen so many fine fellows go wrong. A glass of wine is either a thoroughly good thing or a very bad one, according to how it’s used. Tell Will to be a little more careful. Ho talks to-night as if he were half mad. CHAPTER VI. AN UNEXPECTED CATCH. It was not above a quarter of a mile from the Cliffords’ country home —as the crow flies —to Durley. Lock,

but as the river wound between its flower-spread banks, it more than doubled that distance before it reached the weir with its heavy fall of water, which looked at times like a natural cascade. Fishermen said that was the best part of the river Thames, and their judgment was formed upon the fact that every year, more or less, some half-dozen of those great prizes to the angler, Thames trout, were captured. Then there were the famous nooks which no matter how many were caught, always held a famous pike. Then, too, there were the roach swims, the stretches of alder and willow beneath which the chub lurked and, close up by the weir, where the water came down, the favourite pitches where London anglers were punted out with their stores of lobworms, greaves, and other dainties beloved by the Durley barbel. In short, Durley Lock,,, with its pretty ivy-clad waterside tavern, was an angler’s paradise, where frequently in the summer a river Adam would be seen moored in mid-stream as patient as Izaak Walton, and in many cases accompanied by his Eve seated in a basket-chair in the punt reading a yellow-backed novel. Upon the occasion in question the Adam was alone, he being an old habitue of the place, who knew the precincts of the lock as well as or better than the professional fishermen, who let their punts and their services to visitors. Consequently the aforesaid Adam, when he came down from town, wisely preferred his fishing free from the advice and nuisance of a professional man, being much too old au angler to be taught. Barbel were his aim upon this particular occasion, and after ordering his dinner at the little inn. ho had had his punt moored Some fifty yards below that artificial waterfall, the weir, sent the fisherman ashore with orders-to come and fetch him at six o'clock, and then settled himself down to his afternoon’s enjoyment. He began by sending his bait, buoyed by an exceedingly long quijl float steadily clown the rushing stream some twenty or thirty yards, so that it should pass right over the barbel swim where the fat gudgeon-like monsters with their bearded jaws were known to assemble heavy and strong, waiting for the choice morsels that cameover the weir to be washed almost into their mouths, and after winching up and starting his bait again four or five times, this modern Adam awoke to the fact that not only had he made his preparations correctly, but was sending his bait right over the fish he sought. For at last, after several tries, and just as his big quill was quite thirty yards below the punt, gliding rapidly down stream, a thrill ran through him, for he was conscious of what he termed a “knock'' or two —in other words that one of the coveted fish had begun to play with his bait, but only to leave it, and the float went on gliding down for another five yards at the end of the fine strong line, which was carefully allowed to run off the great winch. Thien there was a most decided bite, a sudden check, and a thumping' great barbel was hooked, to begin making frantic rushes to escape, boring down towards the bottom, and being carefully played by the skilful angler, till after some minutes’ work it was wound in nearer and nearer to the moored punt, and at last was brought so close that by skilful treatment the landing net was passed beneath, and the fisherman lifted out his great gold-green prize. “Ten pounds if it is an ounce,” he said triumphantly. “This means they are on.” But to quote. Burns : “The best laid plans,” etc.. etc. The barbel were not “on" ; possibly from the tremendous disturbance of the water shoal had come to the conclusion that the place was not safe, and for all the rest of that afternoon they were not “on” but off. while the fisherman fished and fished and fished as only a faithful disciple of Izaak iWalton will. But he was quite satisfied, for though no more barbel came to his hook in the course of those pleasant hours, ho revelled in dreams of beauty, enjoying the sweet river scenery as only a lover of nature can ; and one© in a way ho was cheered by missing a bite or two through hooking what he set down as a chub, which broke away. Then there was a roach to occupy the basket and a very fine dace. And so the time went on, with the fisher perfectly happy and content with what he termed a glorious day ; and at last he consulted his watch, to find that it marked five o’clock, and that he had another hour before landing to partake of the ordered dinner.

V Winding in his line, he laid the rod i across the punt, took out and lit a prime cigar,, &at smoking, and feasting his eyes on the reflections from the sunny west, the soft shadows, and waving trees, and at last made an- alteration in his style of fishing, for he mounted pike tackle, a most formidable looking artificial bait with hooks like young grapnels at the end of a strong line that ran on and off a loudly-clicking brass winch. Then standing up in the boat, he began to throw his glittering -bait in different directions towards the bubbling falling waters of the weir, winding in, throwing out, winding in again, and always waiting for the sudden snap that would be given by one of the fierce, many-teethed, tyrants of the stream. But his efforts were vain. Both giant pike and jack the little seemed to be like the barbel, “off,” and he threw in vain. But contenting himself with the delights of expectation, j he went on, practising throwing with the greatest of skill ; sending the bait flying over the water to fall with a light plop, till all at- once as he was rapidly winding in again he uttered the familiar ejaculation, “By Jingo !” and directly after exclaimed “What’s that ?” His actions proved that he had a very shrewd idea of what “that” I might be, for it was something that j had evidently come over the weir and was floating steadily down stream many yards away to his right, and approaching to an equal distance from the great slippery piles to that occupied by the pole-moored punt. But the angler lost no time. He was perfectly aware of the fact that before many minutes had elapsed the object in view would have floated by and be beyond his reach, so he went on casting and casting without success till after his last miss he glanced at the poles ahead and astern with the idea of loosening the punt and floating after the gliding object. But he made one cast as a last resource before doing this, and the result was a check. His big, trangular hook and caught, and as the rod began to bend he let a little lino run off to ease the movement of his floating prize, if so it could be called, and so gradually checked its way. Finally, just as he felt the stress was too great upon his tackle, and that a 1 breakage must ensue, he shouted loudly : “Aho3-, there ! Roberts ! Quick!” There was no reply from the shore, where the little inn looked dreamy and attractive, and he shouted again, with the effect that a) man came out in shirt sleeves, shaded his eyes, and then turning to one side of the door, caught up a great landingnet standing by r a flower-decked window, ran down to where a couple more punts were moored. Here he pitched down the lauding net, caught up a ripeck, and, evidently under the impression that his guest was fast in a tremendous pike, began skilfully to pole one of the long flat-bottomed boats so as to bring it along side of that in ‘ which the fisherman was moored. “All right, sir, coming !” he shouted, as he thrust away. You have got him this time. Don't hurry him. I knew there was a ’ thumper there. ’ ’ The next minute he changed his tone. “Another on ’em !” he cried, and afterwards in- silence as he fully grasped what had taken place, ho brought punt against punt, and then changing his pole for a boat-hook he cried : “You step in here, sir, with your rod ! ” His words were obeyed, and as the fresh punt dropped slowly' down with the stream, the new-comer lowered the boat-hook, made it fast in the garments of the floating object, passed the boat-hook to the angler, and began to pole rapidly back to the little inn. “This is the fourth this year, sir,” ho said, turning his head over his shoulder. “Quite fresh, too.” “Oh, yes, but be quick, quick ! It’s some accident up stream, and. he mayn’t be dead.” The landlord shook his heaid, and worked hard with his pole. “He'll bo dead enough, Safe keep quiet. I don’t want tk* missus Ito hearf I’ll get him round into the boathouse.” “No, no,” cried the angler, who had dropped his rod, and began working hand over hand with the boart.-hook till he was able, as he knelt down in the punt to get hold |of the clothes of him he sought to ’ save, and ended by holding the pallid face of a well-dressed man aovo 1 the surface. “This may have happened on!y r just now. Here, come , and catch hold with me.” I The landlord obeyed, and the next

minute the apparently drowned man was lying upon his hack in the punt, and the angler had torn oh the black satin tie, opened his shirt, and was kneeling down behind him working the arms up and down and pressing him against the chest in the approved method for restoring respiration, .while the landlord resumed his poling and shook his head. “I didn’t want the missus to know.’ he muttered. “That last job made her ill for a week.” The landlord’s efforts in the way of concealment of the accident would have been perfectly useless, for his actions were l>eing watched by a buxom-looking middle-aged woman, who came hurrying out of the inn door to the landing-place, wringing her hands. “Oh, dear !” she cried. “Someone drowned ?” “No, no,’’ shouted.the angler, as he worked away. “A doctor, quick!’’ “Yes,’’ cried the landlord-. “Send 'Jim, missus.’-’ And the woman hurried back. “But it is no good, Mr Smithcrs, sir. He’s a goner, I’m afraid.’’ “Don’t talk !’’ roared the angler, authoritatively, “ Get the punt ashore. The poor fellow’s quite .warm.” The speaker did not pause for an instant, but kept up his efforts which seemed perfectly in vain ; and when the boat grounded on the gravelly shore he only stopped for a moment or two, just sufficient time to tear off his tweed jacket, and roll up his sleeves. “Hadn’t wo bettor carry him into the tap-room, sir ?’’ “No ; I’ll keep on here till the doctor comes,’’ was the reply, and the would-be rescuer slaved on steadily and well, with the dew beginning to shine upon his face in the late afternoon sunshine. The dew grow into drops, and the drops coalesced and began to trickle down the sides of thp toiler’s face till first one and then another descended with a little splash upon the pallid closely-shaven countenance of the prostrate man. “Feel his heart, sir ?’’ said the landlord, after securing the boat. “No.” “Seems to be a gent, sir, by his big, gold chain.’’ “Yes,” was the abrupt reply. “Shall T take a turn, sir ?” “Not yet, till I’m pumped out. He’s not dead, I’m sure.” The landlord shook his bead again, and just then' the landlady came out, carrying a tumblerful of hot brandy and water. “Could you get him to drink this, sir ?” she cried, “and then have him carried into a hot bed ?” “No ; we can do nothing more, Mrs Heberts,” panted the worker. '•This is best. He couldn’t swallow ; I can. Hold the glass to my lips ; I’m choking.” The speaker took a heavy gulp from the glass without ceasing his efforts, and the landlord looked at his wife and shook his head again, for the woman had stepped into the punt and had began trying to remove the dripping coat and partlyopened vest. “No, no,” cried the angler, impatiently. “A little water won’t hurt. We want air—air. Can you get a bottle of hot water to his feet ?” “Yes, sir,”- cried the woman. “Quick, then—quick !” The woman stepped ashore ag-ain, and the angler worked away till his breath began to come thick and fast, and he looked up at the land--3 ord. “Now,” he cried, “be ready. Kneel down behind him and catch hold of his arms, then keep on working them up and down as I’m doing till I get my breath agaib.” “It’s no good, sir ; it’s no good.” “Go on!” roared the angler. “We want to save his life.” He was obeyed on the instant, and the worker raised himself, panting hard the while, as the landlord with such skill as he could command toiled away, till his wife came hurrying out, and without being told, baicd the patient’s feet, applied the heat she had brought, and covered bis lower extremities -with a couple of thick blankets. “Good, Mrs Roberts ! Capital ! There’s nothing, like a woman and a landlady.” “But, oh, sir,” half sobbed the woman, “do you think it’s any good? “Ask me that by-and-by,” was the reply, as the speaker seized his opportunity to thrust his hand into the sufferer’s breast. “Now then, let me have another turn.”' “Yes,, sir,” said the landlord, with a sigh and a look upon his countenance expressing his thoughts- ; while with fresh vigour the angler resumed his efforts. It was a strange scene at the brink of that beautiful river which Nature

had done her best to adorn with simple loveliness. There was no sound to be heard but the panting of the heavy breather and the soft splashing fall of the golden, -waters plunging down over the weir. Life at its best in all its beauty Save there where it seemed in spite of the efforts being made, to have passed away, and as the toiler worked on, he half looked up in wonderment at the silence and solitariness of the place, for they were alone there by the -weir, and not so much as a cottage was in sight, not even a boat upon the stream, such passers- by as there -were going far round by one of the back-waters so as to avoid the lock. Then at last there was the sound of feet. Two figures were seen approaching, one the well-dressed doctor of the village a couple of miles away, the other the odd man and boating help of the little inn, who had been the messenger in search of help. “Ah, that’s right,” cried the doctor, as he came up and took in the situation at a glance. “Too late, I’m afraid ; but we will do our best.’

Under his instructions a few preparations were made indoors, and when they were complete the patient; was carried in and quickly transferred to a bed while the efforts w)ere continued with fresh vigour, heat and friction applied, and all that medical skill could supply was brought to bear. (To be Continued)-.-