A SHORT STORY.

Colonist, Volume LIV, Issue 13458, 2 July 1912, Page 3

A SHORT STORY.

j (All Rights Reserved.) GALBRAITH OF THE WATER i LILY.

By OSWALD WILDRIDGE,

Author of " When the Sea Gives up its Dead," "The Plotters," Captain Jerry, Master Mariner/ " Through the . Snowdrifts," &c.

PART 111. Awe, fear, hope, curiosity—his brain in a whirl under the combined buffeting of all these emotions—the young officer obeyed the] command. "There's a key int'bottom." "Is this it?" "Aye! Now oppen that corner cupboard." r "Yes; what next?" "Yo' see that laal oak box—-weel, pit them pappers oot an' read them." • Noisily, with all its old rollicking haste, the little clock on the shelf ticks out the minutes, and when ten of them have gone, Jack Elliott, with whitened face and quivering limbs, looks upon that other white face on the pillow, and hoarsely gasps: "It's a lie, man —it's a lie! It cannot be true." "I'se a dyin' man, Maister Elliott—am I likely to lie?" is . the only response. Hastily Elliott picks up the papers, and once more devours their contents; then, turning to the bed, he grips the smuggler's hand. s "Yo' believe noo?" \ "I must. I canot help it." \ "An' yo'll—yo'll—yo'll never tell ' her?" " , ; "Galbraith," ' Elliott gravely '■ answers, "haven't I told you that ; I love her?" Racked by the revelation that had come to him, hardly knowing what to think, uncertain as to what course to pursue, Elliott paced the Kittiwake's tiny deck, and endeavoured to unravel the many threads in this woefully tangled skein. He was still there when the first flush of the autumn dawn fell like a benediction across the waters, but by this time he had got the thing well in hand, and the chaos had been reduced to something like order.

One thing he felt to be imperative, he must see Madge's father again; for the rest, events must be left to sort themselves out.

His second reception was quite as chilling as the first had beenMortimer was surprised by the visit, it is true, annoyed also, but the man was invested with a wonderful power of self-control, his features ever served him as a mask, and the look which lie fixed upon his visitor was exactly as before, a combination of indifference and contempt. Concluding' that Jack had called to renew his request for Madge's hand, he determined to cut the interiew as short as possible.

"I'm afraid, Mr. Elliott, /that. you are a person of poorer judgment than I had imagined. It will save your time, and mine, however, if I inform you at once that I am

not in the habit of changing my mind in the course of a week, and that even the brilliance of your smuggler-hunting has failed to impress me with a sense of your fitness as a son-in-law. Under the circumstances "

"Steady, sir, steady!" Jack broke in. "You had your say the last time I was here, and it's my turn now. I'll do the talking, if you please. You've niade a mistake in supposing that I'm on my old errand. It's not a pleasant job I've got in hand, and I don't mind telling you .that for Madge's sake I'd have given a lump out of my life if I could only have stayed away, but there are times in a man's experience when duty must rank first."

"Ah, very interesting, I'm sure, very!" Mortimer drily "interrupted; but in spite of all his sang-froid his heart was beating hurriedly, and a sickening terror had him in its grip-

"Yes," Jack continued, "I've come this time not as John Elliott, the suitor for a bonny girl's hand, but as Lieutenant Elliott, of Her Majesty's Navy. You've referred to my capture of the Water Lily, and it happens that I've been a little more successful than even you have bargained for."

"Really, Lieutenant Elliott, the other again interrupted—his voice had a nervous little catch in it, and his eyes were not half so steady, but he was determined to. bluster the thing out—"really, this must be very gratifying to yourself, but I fail to see any point in which it concerns me. If you are still thinking of Madge- -" i "For heaven's sake, man, leave M-adge out of it! r You know well enough what I mean, but if you want the tlvng plain 4 and flat, well here it is—-Tom Galbraith has told me everything !" -'...' "Ah!" mi spite of himself the the man could not keep it back. "Yes, everything. Told me that you are the real smuggler, and that the man upon his deathbed and the others in prison cells have been mere tools in your hands, that .your money set them afloat, your moneykept them going; they have done the work, but yours has been the scheme and the scheming; they

have had all the kicks and blows, and you hav*c pocketed the lion's share of the profits. A. pretty, yarn to spin to the-world, >isn't it? Richard Mortimer, squire of > high repute, and lord of many acres, a smuggling screw!"

Stunned by the blow, the guilty man cowered in his chair and listened to the tale of his own infamy, but not yet had he abandoned hope. There was still one loophole through which he might wriggle his way, and as Jack paused for breath he staked his last throw in a demand for proof. In reply Jack produced a bundle of papers, and Mortimer knew that the game was up.

'Troof!" pried Jack. "Here it is, 'tons of.it. You've been cute enough, I'll own, but you couldn't run the whole rig of a business like this without putting your pen to paper, and here are a few things Tom Galbraith had, sense enough to keep."

A few seconds of dumb, taut silence, and then Mortimer spoke again. "You're a clever^ man. Lieutenant Elliott," he said, 'with as much of a sneer as he could muster, "and you've played your game well. May I now ask what you' are going; to do?"

"Well," Jack replied, "I know what. I ought to do. I ought to see you clapped in gaol; but—you're Madge Mortimer's father. Then I know what I might do—l might make Madge the price of my silence; but I've got some sense of honor left, and when I want rhy girl I may take her, but I'll never buy her—our love shall not be made a thing of barter. I'm going to do nothing at all. For Madge's sake I'm going to turn my back on my duty; but, seeing that I've stopped your little business, perhaps that doesn't matter so much. There you have it —Tom Galbraith goes to his grave, his comrades go to prison, you get off scot-free! I hope you feel proud of it all! There's one other thing I want to say,' and then I'll, leave you. If you've a scrap of integrity left, you'll provide for Tom Galbraith's widow, and all those other women and children until their bread-winners- return to them. If you don't—well, love will have to be shot overboard, and duty take its place.

Thus, for the second time, th-e father and the lover parted. Left to himself the old man heaved a sigh, indicative of intense relief, and then by degrees his old spirit of strenuous self-possession returned to him, the old craftiness reasserted itself, and after all the possibilities and probabilities of the situation had been turned ever and weighed, and turned and weighed again, the walls, had they only been gifted with ears, would have heard him mutter: ■

"Yes, that's what I must do. He'll not buy my Madge, bat he can't prevent me selling her; and it's the surest way, the only vs.'ay. of sealing his lips."

That night, when Jack Elliott walked out to the old trystingplace, the old seaside gate,, inspired by the hope, rather than by any real expectation, of seeing his sweetheart there, Madge ran forward to meet him, and as he. took her in his arms she exclaimed :

"Oh! Jack, what do you think? I've got such glorious news. Father says I've to tell you that he didn't really mean what he said the other day, and he hasn't any objection to our being engaged. Now, what do you think of that?"

What Jack thought he signified in the usual way—the lover's way. "And another thing," the girl went on v "he's going to look after Margaret Galbraith, and all those other poor folks—you know who I mean —and see that none of them want for anything. Isn't it good of him? Poor father, people think Him hard and unfeeling, but that's only because they don't know him —nobody knows him but me." And Jack bent his head and kissed her again. - . ■ : : (Tire End.)