Rebecca's Mistake.

Timaru Herald, Volume LXXXI, Issue 12583, 21 January 1905, Page 4 (Supplement)

Rebecca's Mistake.

Rebecca's love affair was brief, but it cut deep. - The object of her affection iu those long-ago days of her . girlhood was young Haivey Becket, the ferryman," a huge le'.icv.-, slro.-g-lirnbed, brcad-chested, standing six feet three in !;is stockings, with the tawny hair and blue eys of a' Norseman. Harvey, being so good to look at, was. thoroughly familiar with feminine admir : ation; he knew the symptoms well, and fully recognised the fact that Rebecca was in love with him. When he " passed tlie time o' day with her," as the 2fbifo!k phrase has it. on his wjj* to the ferry in the morning he knew very fre'l why it was that her e.Ves brightcnel and her. cheel: flushed, and whe.i occasiou;J ! y'lie dropped into thr Sil'is's for a top of tea, he w?.s we!] aware that she was blessed thereby for days after. Harvey, however, had no more matrimonial intentions towards Rebecca than he had towards the old ship's figurehead that adorned her garden. He merely felt a keen appreciation of the solid comfort of her kitchen, her tea, and her hot buttered toast. - One day, however, in an expansive moment, when the tea had been extra, strong, the toast exceptionally well buttered, Harvey, found himself moved to p!ant a kiss on Rebecca's prim-lips. Then he flung out of the cottage with a laugh and a "Fare ye well,- Becky, me gal," and the incident vanished altogether from his mind; Tha r t was the. end of Rebecca's love affair. For a long time—remembeiing the kiss—sfre hoped fcr Beckett's return, and never a. Norwegian trader passed rp the river but slfe knSw every man of her crew ere she -had been mooted to the quay-h-sad an hour. But- Beckett was never among them, and,, as the years passed,- Rebecca gradually,gave up hope, and, fulfilling unloved rotind bf iter doily saw the sunder of her girlhood fade s'owly and uneventfully into the chill autumn of dun-colcured middle life.

Presently the two black ba'ls which gave warning that a large vessel was about to ' enter the liv-er were run up cn the harbourpier. They caught Rebecca's attention and she hurried iiitb the cottage to catch her filther's old telescope and have a spy at th? newcotner. "What's coniin' in?" she asked of a gang of men returning alonjj the quay from their wairk at the pier-head. "A fbwer-masted sk-s-wner from the nor'ard," was the answer. " She ha' got a lood o' timber for Hettsbn." Hewson's timber-yard Was next to Rebecca's cottage j a big place where mor-e stacks of yellow timber were piled in a year than in any other timber-yard on the riverside. . Rebecca nodded her thanks and levelled her telescope at the bend on the river, where presently the. great -vessel ca-mc slowly into sight. Then -a strange thing happened. The telescope dtopptd fttnh her hand and as she clutched from the gatepost for support, every vestige of colour left her cheek. Her eyes, in which jojr and incredulity struggled for the mastery, were fixed cn a gr-oat ' bronzed' bear die! man who stood conspiu'or.s among th§ crgw, in the Gunhild's bows, his -gaze wandering half-interested'y over the houses and quays of Southtown. Slowly, slowly the Gunhild giided along'; now she was on a level with Boultbse's dockyard, now with Colby's warehouse, now with the ierry. ■ Harvey . Becket idly scanned the ferryhouse aid landing-stage, j new since his day; thefi his gaze fell on Rebecca's cottage and Rebecca standing at the gate. "For a moment the:# was no "recognition in his face; . then something familiar struck him about. the* spars, ungraceful figure, and he seized his quear Norwegian cap and, swinging it round his head by its woollen tassel, j-ivial shout shout of welcome across the water, j Next moment the Gunhild swung slowly I rennd to her mooring 3 at- Hewson's yard, and-immediately there was a. great- shouting and hauling of ropes, and every member of the crew had his work cut out for him andi no time whatever for philandering. Rebecca Sillis, with that- .strange elation in her heart which made her wonder whether she. were indeed herself, made her trembling way into her cottage, and safc staring straight before her like one in a dream. This did not last long, however; ber essentially practical nature speedily reasserted itself, and she busied herself about preparing" a meal, going about her work with all the hardness gone from her thin; sallow face, and an unwonted smile parting her thin lips and softening her eyes. ■ Never was there such a tea as Rebecca spread that afternoon; she gave of her h?sf7 and then felt it, was not half good enough fcr the lover who had come back to her after .all these years. She plundered -her gatden, top, to deck the feast; bringing in hand nils of.- red and-ye low: nasturtiums, and heavy-headed dahlias, and packing, them- all tightly in a greeen vase in the middle "o: the table, where they forthwith sheid-unnumbered earwigs. Job Green, Jhe postman, passed as Rebecca was gathering her flowers. " Fine evenin', Miss Sillis, mum," he s-iid.

" Ay, 'tis a bootiful evening," Rebecca answered from her heart. "We ain't- fur from the change, though,"' Job went cn; "sky look wnnnerful perlikler to tlie west'ard; a mass o' sbceii's backs 'n' mares tails tlia' tlia' be." "Come dow, Job Green, none o' yer . croaking; the fine weather's a-goin ! per last all night," a cheery voice cried behind him. "Why, yer don't mean to say yer. ha' forgot Harvey Becket, wot usedto ferry yer acrost the water a matter! o' tbutiy odd years agoo." * "Wliy, why, wba's thi yew, Haiviiy, bor; we.'l I'm blessed tha' I be; why, jest look at yer beard an' the size on yer." " Ay, ha'n't growed smaller, noi nor yet younger, wns luck. Here, le' me pass." Becket lifted Job cut of his way as though he were a child, and marched up the gar-den-path to the cottage, looking big enough to overwhelm it-. "Why, Becky, me gal," he cried, seizing Rebecca's trembling hands- and shaking them heartily; but something he saw ■ in the wliite face and strangely glowing j eyes quieted him suddenly; he put his arm round her and gently placed her in her chair, where she sat trying to control her twitching lips. :- . " Why, here's "a tea," JHarvey. .went on boisterously; "bloaters 'n' jam 'n' hot but l tered toas' 'n' short cakes 'n' all; why, I ha'n't seed sieli a blow-out since I left ole England, I ha'nt." , "I done the best I could,' 1 Rebecca said, recovering herself; " but. ther' war'nt time." _ I, | " Yew guessed as how I should come, then?"" "I knowed you would,"-Rebecca. said simply. Harvey fell to at once, on the good things before him, and Rebecca, still with' that strange feeling of unreality, sat and watched him. Of all the yarns he spun she heard but- little; tales of the pale wonders of the midnight sun, of the heavens aglow, with blazing northern lights,- of tl\e fiords and snow mountains, and great frozen lakes of Norway all felLon unheeding ears, for Rebecca could take in nothing but the fact that Harvey Becket had come back to her, and that life was suddenly changed from the bleakness of winter to the summer's long-forgotten warmth.

Presently Harvey turned from the table and, stretching out his loDg legs, filled his pipe with a huge sigh of enjoyment "Why tha's right like ole—times, tha' thi' be, Becky me—me—gal," he said, gulping a little over tie last word as lie sent an appraising glance at poor Rsbecca's very ungirl-like charms. "We beboth oh ns a good bit older 'n' we was then," Rebecca said sententiously. The remark was awkward and unnecessary, but she was given to that kind of thing. Harvey laughed. " Well, tha's trew," he said, "but lor' bless yer, tha' don't matters, we be all on us a-goin' the same way an' none on -us doon't stan' still/' "Tha' doon't seems more 'n' a miDute since [ I set an* got me tea here last," "he went on presently. The dull red colour surged up into Rebecca's face. How well she remem-. bered that visit and its ending. A sudden access of shyness seized-her; she could not look up. There was a silence, broken only by the'click of her knitting-pins, and the gentle puffiing of Harvey's lips as he sent the smoke wreaths curling up to the kitchen rafters;

" Now, what ha'- yew bin a-doin' wi yerself all these here years, I wonder," he said presently.

"Since father' died I da'-'had ter work h.vd at th' net-makin' ter get. a livin'," Rebecca answered.' ' ,

. "Pretty nigh -tired o' that, T reckon,'.] Ain't yer i mnsfc fare' ter want a change! 'lite, elx!";. Harvey: leaoed' forward orer 1

; the table "and looked' at Rebecca'. Her : heart beat fast to suffocation. It was coining at last. She knew well the changes he was' going to suggest-; a change in which lie,- too, would share. Oh, it was too good to be true;—too good. " Yer inighfe take ter winkle, or s'rimp sellinV' Haryey ■ went on. A sweet vkion. passed, befor? - Rebecca's lowered eyes. Harvey' sailing into harbour iii a little shrimper of his own and herself behind a dazzling clean, white ledge in the cottage window, selling piles of fresli shrimps ; while over her head hung a board with the legend : " Shrimps sold here by the catcher.".' -With a yawn and a stretch Harvey rose from his chair, and coming roundthe. little table; laid two big hands oh Rebecca's shoulders. " Well, this here lazin' about'S wurinerful nice, • but-;'twon't- dew fur me, Becky, me gal," he said.. "I must say' adoo, adoo, adoo, .as the poet says. Tha' ha' done me a sight. o ! good ter liev sich a we 1 come as .yew ve give me arier all,these years, fur there ain't so many folk in Soutntcwri aS'knows nie now, I reckon." Rebecca, ppt up lifer hand and laid' itgently on the big one'-on .her shoulder. " Why,"' she said,; smiling, " you' talk like aa ii" yew was, a-going orf agin ter-iiight, 'stead o' onlyv jest,'havin' come." "So I be, leastways to-morrer." Rebecca, started painfully. " " I ain't a-goin' ter wait fer the G'unhild," Haryey went on. "The Delta, wot belong ter : my boss, too, 's a-going back to. Frederikstadt-. ter-omorrer, an' a chap wot's abocrd her ha' swopped berths we' me. Yer see, .! . ter gitback qiiiek ter the .an' the little 'una."

The change in .Rebecca's eyes was piteous to see; .her face was; . ravaged and; drawn with pain; she 'bent- low over h§r knitting to hide it-. " Five on 'cm tLeie be," -ITarvey wenton e.isilyi; 7 "so, yer see,. Becky; .'tain't te- bV wdnderel at if I gca." Rebecca, thanked God the dusk was ia:liog. She never knew iow 2 she . reached the "3bor,'« nor bade Harvey' Becket poodbye. Half-dazcd she watched him down the gardeh-patb,' ai;d heard the voice of Job. the postman, waiting • about on the chance'of a word with him.

"Said a change wor. a-connn'. didn'tI, Harvev. bor?-' Job Said ; " wind's afreshenni 'now, an' 'tis- a-turnni'mi-right ccold. 1 ' It was ti'tve. . Rebecca shivered as she tuir.ed intoi'.her cpttage->and: shut the doer slowlv behind iiet.