ROAN BARBARY.

Timaru Herald, Volume LXXXIII, Issue 12901, 12 February 1906, Page 2

ROAN BARBARY.

(Continued.)

Paysant had not spoken for some time, but sat with bent head, motionless. Johnstone, watching his patron with lugubrious steadiness, stirred uneasily.

"We must resign ourselves to the inevitable,'' said Paysant, for the twentieth time.

Johnstone shook his head, clearly indicating that he eould not trust himself to speak—and indeed, it might almost seem that tears of sympathy were not far from his round, dull eyes. " The place must go at last," continued Paysant, with • a groan.

The door of the office was thrown quickly open, and Cicely entered, panting and dishevelled. " Papa! papa!" she called. " See, we are saved ! We can keep Wayerley, and everything will be all right." And casting on the table the pile of bills and bonds, she stood before him laughing and radiant. " My dear," said Paysant, " what do you mean ? . Are you quite mad ?"

" Not a bit," she exclaimed, gayly. "It is the money that Michael Tharp owed you. He was dying—" and her voice fell in sudden awe—" he wanted •to pay it back. But yon needn't know all now; I'll tell vou some other time."

Johnstone had run over the money rapidly. "It's true," he.said, looking up; " : I've counted thirty thousand, and there's more."

" But what is to be done ?" demanded Cicely, impatiently. "You said they were going to sell the house. They must be stopped at once. I suppose with the l money be some way." Paysant looked at Johnstone, who looked back at him helplessly. " I am afraid it is too late," he answered, the gleam of mom-entary hope dying away on his face. '" The sale is at nine o'clock." "And what time is it now?" asked Cicely, realising that many hours must have been needed for the events of the night. "Half-past six," said" Johnstone, looking at his watch; then going to the window, he glanced out at the cold gray dawn of the late autumn which had broadened iu the sky. "It's no use," he continued, gloomily. "Bellamont is twenty-three miles, and there is no train so early, and no way to get there." " Seme one might ride," suggested Cicely. "I am oftt of the question," said Paysant. " Johnstone could not ride so far, and Morris would never know what to do." .-•'' ' -' . ■•' '

" I'll go myself," said Cicely,'instantly. - "You!" exclaimed Paysant, while Johnstone turned and looked at her admiringly.

"Why not?" she urged. "I've often ridden further, and I'm sure I could do it. I would go directly to Mr Ramsay, and he would tell me about the business; and," she concluded, decidedly, "I am going." ; , ;

v Neither of the men spoke. " I'll tell Morris to have a horse saddled immediately, change my. dress in an instant, and be off at once." =

' '" But," said Johnstone, as if suddenly remembering, "what horse can you take? Everything is sold except the greys, and neither.'of them could make it in the time. especially after the distance thev went last night." •" ' ;

The look of despair again settled upon. Paysunt's face as Cicely.stood irresolute. ; "Isn't there, anything, else in'the stable?" she asked, doubtfully.. i "Nothing," answered JohEstone. "That is, of course, except Roan Barbary." " Then I'll take Roan Barbary," she said, firmly. •' Morris!" she cried at -the top of her young voice as she opened-the office door. " Have Barbary saddled as quickly as you can!" She turned for-an instant, to the others, and exclaimed, hj) unrepressihle excitement,.; Vl've. 'always wanted to ride a'race; and now I can. Barbary has won for us before; he shall win again."

The. morning had at first seemed cold and dull, but it was only because the sky was obscured by the low-lying mist that settled in.the hollows,and clung about the woods. ~,Now.there was not a cloud in. the heavens, and.as the suu mounted higher -its rays .pierced and its. warmth -quickly dissipated the slight haze. of. thelate. sumip'er. The thin, films -of. the lingering fog had almost disappeared^..leaving only here and there faint trace, which, fading fast, still glowed warmly. The distant hills showed firmly blue, and. the branchesvdf the trees, stood, out quite clearly against the soft-tinted sky. ; The sunlight did not seem, to falWfor, there; were jio shadows, only hardly defined blurs/of shade--but appeared to be diffused.through the thick air It was part- of it, with its subdued brilliancy; and impregnated it as it might some semitranslucent, semiliquid medium It seemed to have almost a.sustaining force and in its mild freshness a certain buoyancy. The crow that floated on easy wing could have no difficulty w-supporting itself The leaves that fell to the ground with lingering slowness floated as if through some resisting-substance, -and it was so dry that each struck the firm earth with «. sharp metallic click noticeable in the "reat quiet. It was very still, too, without the least stir of. air, and the smoke mounted, in long sh night columns, only spreading slightly at a considerable height. i The regular beat of Roan Barbary's hoofs sounded loud and clear as he galloped on. Cicely knew the country well, and could estimate quite accurately how far she had gone. At the last landmark -she had in-" sersibiy urged the horse to a swifter pace, for in the rough calculation she coul'fi hurriedly make it Teemed to her that shfe was behind her time. Still, she could nit kI W .exaoUy,.. how.,-J.ong, she,;had- been oh the w£y?'and ; 'tt3uld ; At. the start she had "saved" Barban/f. at ai/ -easy canter. Tor though every impulse Tirgefl I,e . l L to ?**"s?' ?M X iMevr fooweil what waV wise to urge ber"'horse to "airy great exertion. With: beating heart .and • inpatient spirit she rode her "waiting race" steadily and with science. It was hard, for Bar*bary was only too " eager," and had to be held back; but she did it, andliept him! down to an even, easy gait. Johnstone's last words had been discouraging, for nothing had been required of the "horse for a long .time, and "Rrsrlwry had been leftto a well BaV::ed repnsje. However, tW,

early morning canter seemed to warm him up, and so far he had done spl-ri-iiidiy. The great racer, it might seem wiiii smccthing of conscious power, bounded forward with powerful stride alnic-st as easily .is he had done in the years long past, waeii there had been eager crowds to cheer una thousands had hung anxiously on the even!. But it was a different race from any thao. Barbary had ever run. It was a question of distance now, and eudmauce. Foruieriy all that had been required was a quick, brilliant dash, ending in a rapid but shun finish. It had been a question cf bringing, for a few moments only, every paitide of life, every ounce of force, into most effective exertion, and this slow " pound, pound" along the country road in the early morning- wa? so-oiethiug to which he was wholly unaccustomed. ~But there is this in all breeding, in "'race." that with the power of brilliant achievement conies the power of continuous e:idurance, and the strength J hat may show itself in some brkf, supreme moment is equally a strength that can bear a lengthened strain beneath which meaner powers would succumb and fail.

With unslacking and unhurrying course Barbary had kept on. but Cicely felt ilia now they must go faster, and for the first time she spoke. There was a short sharp upward toss of the head, with a jerk on one side; the ears that for an instant had been pricked forward were again laid Hat. then with a bound the horse almost doubled his pace. The race against time had begun in earnest. On he dashed. Cicely still restraining his too great " willingness," for even now he was not doing all that he could do, and she judged that not yet would it be wise to let him out for "all lie was worth." But still the pace was more than good. The fence posts were passed or seemed to go by rapidly, and the trees that stood here and there**along the road were quickly reached and as quickly left behind. The people she now began to see -standing* about the farmhouses looked up curiously at 41ksound of the hurrying beat of Barbary's hoofs, and' alter she had passed down the road pressed forward to gaze after her. But she rode too quickly to. hear what was said, although as she left sooic staring group far behind she caught vague questioning shouts. The cottages were more numerous now, and she saw, fiom many signs well known -to her, that sue was approaching the village that lay next to the one near which Waverley was situated. A mile more and she would be in it, and that village was more than half-way to Bellamont. She glanced at the sun; itwas well up, but it could not. be very late, she concluded. Then, almost before she knew "it, she was in." the village street. With the early-stirring country life there were a good many people about who paused to. watch her. But she went none the slower. Down -the soft, tmpaved village street, under the wide-spreading elms from which the leaves rained down upon the yellow earth, Barbary plunged rapidly, with Cicely sitting as "if hunting. At an intersecting street she almost ran into a hay-waggon that was leisurely rolling along, but with a quick 6werve Barbary avoided it, and they swept on. Cicely unshaken and : firm in the saddle. ' Beforethe hotel there was a small gathering of vehicles, but at Cicely's call those standing in the way drew aside, and she flashed past withou*;. heeding the commotion she had arouaed. Now she was through the village and <nit in the country again, beating along the lonely road. It was very hot. The sunlight fell fiercely upon the* unshadowed way. and from the,dry ground came a verv heavy heat. Barbary for the first time 'showed j symptoms of distress, which Cicelv, with j her long training in the stables, "quickly detected. His breathing was more laboured, his sides were black with sweat, and against his neck the bridle had chafed a heavy line of froth. Bending over, she anxiously looked at. the horse and noted every symptom of "weakness, and for the "first time, a feeling of doubt rose in her mind. Would Barbary do it? There could be no question speed, but his .endurance—would it be possible for him to make the distance, which she felt must still be considerable! She was in a part of the country that she did not know very ■'•well, and could not. as she had before passing the village, count off the miles as 'Barbary covered them. Besides, she had lost all sense of time. It might already be too late to think of reaching Bellamont, i 'and at this thought she was seized with i a sudden panic. • There was not a house in sight, but as she galloped around a sharp turn" in the roadshe came upon a farmer jogging along in bis dusty ''waggon. Barbary had sliot past several " lengths" before she could rein him in, and she turned ■to address the man, who had stopped at -her call. " ' . - i'-'" • (To be concluded.)