“THE STORY OF HILARY LECH.”

Taranaki Herald, Volume LIX, Issue 143646, 14 November 1911, Page 5

“THE STORY OF HILARY LECH.”

By HAROLD BINDLOSS. Author of “A Brave Man’s Lorc 3 ” “In Niger Land,” “Ainslicbi Ju-Ju,” etc., etc. CHAPTER Xl.—Continued, Mrs. Crighton bent her Lead gravely, and congratulated hersolf of man s simplicity. She had conquered so far all along the line, and could afford.to overlook what she considered gross presumption. Also, she was a littao afraid of what she had roused in her companion, and did ndt consider it judicious to scourge him further. It is sometimes wise, she knew, lo leave the retreat open for a vanquished 01101113’, and after what had transpired m tno store she surmised ho would leave the district shortly. So she said presently: “1 have kept you occupied, and must not be selfish. Are you not anxious to open your letter ?’" Legh broke the- seal, road the curt note irom the storekeeper, and methodically placed it in his pocket. It meant financial ruin, but that seemed of small conscqutmco now; and Mrs. Crighton, who guessed its purport and the partners’ .position prett.v accurately, almost admired him. She rode ahead later, and it was nearly dusk when, as they came out beside the Cedar River, Lilian said to Legh, who held her bridle because the trail was dangerous and Huntingdon, who now led the- packhorse, had passed on with Mrs. Crighton: “i am afraid you must have received bad news, Mr. Lea. You cannot hide it. and I hope you will let me say I am sorry.”

Legh trembled visibly. He was overwrought, and his love almost mastered him as he glanced up at the fair rider. Site heat forward a little. looking down on him with a faint blush, as though uncertain how far she might presume, besides an expression of sympathy, and the struggle grew more intense. Ho was not a vain man, but he seemed to feel instinctively, in spite of what others had said, that she was moved, perhaps without knowing it, by more than mere kindness for him. He was driven by a wild impulse to tell her all, pour out a tale of burning love, and by force if necessary carry her hack to the railroad along the climb-, mg trail. For a moment it seemed that he could make her return his affection by sheer mastery. Then ho could have derided his own folly, for that would only make her hate him. and he was goaded to the brink of madness by Huntingdon’s merry laugh winch came back through the deepening ■shadows of the firs. His successful rival’s enjoyment was the last drop which filled the hitter cup to overflowing, and his teeth set together as he stared at the Cedar River.

Ten feet below the slippery rock which hero formedHhe floor of the trail a rush of molted snow whirled tumultuously round a deep, froth-streaked poo!, lapping .along the qnartze-veined walls with an angry fretting. Then there was a tossing rapid whoso thunder set the pine noodles trembling, and as he looked down on it—-ruined, hopeless, and desperate—he know no ■o-immer could escape who once plunged in there. The woman beside him was his wife—he had already risked his life for her. To make her the central figure in a painful story was impossible. but unless he did so he must look on and hold his pipico while the other man took her. That would he a crime, a crime even against herself, and at any cost ho must it. He could not think clearly; it was omo f 'on swayed him and no* reason; hut he could only see one way of giving her liberty. He would reveal himself —tho battered coin she had given him was in his pocket—and then death, a swift death down there among tho grinding boulders, would solve the

difficulty. For an instant also a horrible thought flashed into liis bewildered brain. Why should be go alone? One wrench oh the bridle, a cut with the whip, and no power on earth could part them;'hut with a last struggle he cast it out. 'Then there was a soft touch on his shoulder, and a low voice said; “You look ill; are yon faint, Mr. Lea? ! am really anxious about, you. See, lean against the saddle--steady. Caesar! No, yon must wait a little before wc move again.”

The little white hand constraimd him. and his madness vanished at the touch of it. He shuddered again, with horror at himself this time, and obeying laid one arm on the horse's shoulder, ami quivered when he felt Lilian’s habit rustle under him. Great drops of cold sweat beaded his forehead, lie was faint from strain of conflict ami revulsion of relief, for lie knew he had liniig for a moment on the brink of a hottomles'v abyss. The terror of what he might have done held him for a space milk' and helpless. Still, now at least he was sane, anr) fell lie would have been slowly cut to pieces before any ill should happen to her. “Are you better? Can't you speak and tell me how I can help you?” said the girl, still very pitifully. Legh managed to answer: “I am bitterly ashamed of myself, hul il is passing. I had tropical fever, and was wounded not long ago perhaps ] lost the power lo stand up against a shock as one ought to do. As you said, I have had had news, enough to make any man desperate.” “Would it help you if you told me?” asked Lilian.

“Logh’s voice was broken as ho answered: “No—l cannot tell this trouble to any living soul, and the future i.s hopeless. But you must forgive me. tho weakness which led me to appeal to your pity like a child.” Lilian stooped further towards him, and the man whs divided between shame ami contrition as she said : “You have my sympathy. I am young to tell you tiiis. but something unexpected and terrible once happened to me. and I can’t help hollering that when ail seems hopeless some way of deliverance is opened nn. Yon will wait for it patiently, won’t you?” Legh opened his lips to answer, and

faltered, then lie seized the little hand that rested on his arm and kissed jt reverently, saying; ‘'Cod bless you.” Raising Ills broad hat he turned away, and vanished into the forest, and Lilian’s face was crimson as she gazed after him until her eyes grew misty and she shook the bridle. “\Vha.t has become of Refill? asked Huntingdon when she rejoined the others; and Mrs. Crighton lelt satisfaction, without pity, as the girl answered: “ilis nearest win' was by the river, and lie scorned tired or ill.” “I’m in no “way surprised,” said Huntingdon. “He has been doing throe men’s work, and pretty well starving himself lately, so they can keep expenses square. In fact, what those two have gone through would break up anybody’. The claim s not paying. That man has been making a precious plucky fight of it.” The same night the partners he.d a council on board the scow. As they spoke, battered pine logs drove crashing' against the Hull planking, for it was early spring, and though keen frost bound the higher snows every gorge on the lower slopes was swept by a torrent. Ashore, the redwood branches were thrashed by the- rain, and the blackness beneath them filled by the rattle of grinding shingle. The Cedar River was coming down in flood. “Dollars all gone—no credit,” said Morslcy. “Boiler shedding hob water all round her, and the piston ploughing a grove in the old cylinder. No use piling up the agony; we to done without some money. If you vo got anything up.your sleeve,- partner, you d better play it.” “Then listen,” was the answer. “There is gold below the canon. Il the Chinamen can got it in hand-pans we can do bettor; trom what I learned last visit we’ll have enough to buy most of the tilings before the machine gives out if wc can stmt ourselves a little longer.” “Just so,” said Morsley. “But how arc we going to get the blamed heap of old scrap iron there? Wo could buy. a brand new one with what it would cost to pack her in bits round the ranges and build a new bulk 5 “1 dont intend to pack her,” said Legh. “It would be labour wasted. The river would bo the easiest way,” “The river! It’s runnii g twenty miles an hour in the canon now. No living white man lias ever been through, and only one Indian—who couldn't help it—at low water in a canoe.” “That’s probably because no white man ever tried,” said keglK “and this craft isn’t a canoe. I’ve a “theory that the stream swings,back to the centre from the rocky* sides, and if she docsn t fetch up on a* big boutcler no power <m earth could stop her going through.” “It a mighty bold game. Anyhow we can’t .stay here, and we may as well take the chances,” said Morsley. (Yo be contmucd.i