CHAPTER V. HOW THE NIGHT WAS PASSED.

Te Aroha News, Volume III, Issue 133, 19 December 1885, Page 4

CHAPTER Y. HOW THE NIGHT WAS PASSED.

Arthur perceived the shadows lengthening about them, and looked at his watch. It waa half -past four. He started up, a half-guilty feeling in his heart that he should have allowed himself to be so beguiled into forgetfulness. He turned the face of his watch toward Ida. "It is more than two hour 3 since the party left us to go the grotto," he said. " It cannot be possible !" his companion replied, in surprise, and then meeting his eyes, she blushed like a red rose. " I am afraid our friends have returned, and will think wo are not very prompt about keeping out promise/ he said, turning quickly away from that glowing face, the sight of which sent a thrill of keenest pain through him. "I should have supnosed, however, that not finding us at the landing, they would have sent some one in search of us," he added, as she arose and he helped her down over the rough rocks. It was a work of time, though, and much more difficult than the ascent had been, and she was panting again, like a frightened bird, when she reached the solid ground. " You are very tired. You cannot be very, strong to be so easily wearied," he remarked, regarding her with some concern. "My lungs are not very strong," she answered, smiling : • but lam so much better now than 1 have ever been before, that I feel as if I am going to be a robust woman yet. I find that going up and down stairs, or steep placos, is the hardest task I have to do." After resting a few moments they proceeded on their way ; but they missed the right path, and wandered some distance before they discovered their error; but finally setting themselves right, they hastened to the boat-landing, where they expected to find their friends impatiently awaiting them. But what was their consternation, upon reaching the water's edge, to find that they had all departed, while their own boat was also missing. " What can be the meaning of this ?" Arthur Halstead cried, in perplexity, and secretly indignant at what he considered a very annoying practical joke. "Do you suppose they have taken our boat away in sport ?" Misa Montrose asked. "It has that appearance," Arthur said, gravely. He walked rapidly down the margin of die lake for some distance, and looked out over the water. Nothing was to be seen of their companions, or any boat ; while at that very moment, not a dozen rods away, the Fairy Queen, in the co3y security of her vine- clad nook, rocked and danced on the rippling waters, as if instinct with vicious glee at his dilemma. Arthur Halstead formed his hand into a trumpet and shouted aloud. But only mocking echoes from the distanthills gave back an answer to him. The sun had now entirely disappeared ; a mist was rising over the lake, and purplish shadows were settling down upon the island ; the frogs had begun their shrill piping, and from a distant thicket then came the lonely cry of a whip poor- will. "This certainly is a very uncomfortable predicament, and, I must also say, very incomprehensible," Arthur said, going back to Ida. The dew was falling very heavily, and be feared that Miss Montrose's health would suffer from the exposure. Again and again he shouted, but his own cry was only repeated in reply. Miss Montrose had seated herself upon the trunk of a fallen tree. Her graceful form was outlined against the darkening water ; her hands were folded, and lying quietly in her lap ; her face had grown pale a"nd troubled, but she was very patient, and gave utterance to no word of complaint. . All at once she looked up at Arthur. "Can it be possible," she asked, "that while we were at the ruins, some one else 'came to the island and took our boat, and the party, upon their return, finding it gone ■may have supposed we had become tired of jwaitinet for them and rowed ashore before them?" l - Arthur's face cleared somewhat. , " That may be possible," he, said. , " 1 iad,not thought of that solution of the nystery." • , 'It certainly looked reasonable, for he uould not believe .that any ot their friends ' vould wilfully subject them to such anri'oy- , an'cOi ' ' BiiHf such were really the case, it made matters all 1 the more complicated ani liric'oMortable. ' ;'/; '/ • ■ •

.Miss Montrose laughed musically. • In spite of the exceedingly disagreeable predicament which they were ioj her spirits ' arose as the hours advanced. She was really very comfortable in the glow of the fire, and with the skirt of her riding-habit, which was very long and full, drawn up about her shoulders, she half sat, half reclined upon those springy; fragrant boughs, and felt very happy, as she watched her companion walk back and forth on the other side of the fire. The romance of the Affair' delighted her. She felt safe and secure,- surrounded by such thoughtful care ' aa Arthur had bestowed upon her, while to be there alone with, and entirely dependent upon the man to whom she had surrendered her girlish heart, thrilled' her with indescribable pleasure.

Mr Halstead and Mr Mpntrose, sat, up awaiting them until midnight when the storm came on, and theri they be^anto feel very much alarmed. , . As soon as it oleared they both started out'to find them, reaching the lake r brily ; a ( few iroments before the retuu-n of the missing ones, , , Ida retained her composure until her father's arms enoircled her ; then her sense of weariness and the excitement overcame her, and she yielded to the unnatural tension, to which her nerves had been subjected and fainted away. , ,- ; < She was lifted into a carriage in a state of } unconbioasness, and the weary yet thankful party driven with all possible* speed back to tne liotel, the man following with the two saddle horses. i (To be Continued.)