THE PORTREEVE.

Timaru Herald, Volume XC, Issue 13230, 9 March 1907, Page 2

THE PORTREEVE.

, .itftl- ......•.■■ - (By Eden PhillpotU.)'

• BOOK 111. CHAPTER XVI. "It gets harder'and harder to please you,*' Walferstan answered. "Of course if you're against me — .'•That's likely "isu't it? To be against my own bread and board? No, I'm for you heart and soul, that's why I speak ■what wiser people than ine think. If you'd only stick to your work and not talk so much, you'd get the job ; but you ban't helping yourself, by being,so busy! You're surprising;;people, and. not ~ very pleasantly neither.'.'....... "Who told you to tell'ine this?" .he asked bluntly. . ■ ;

"No matter for that. Ax yourself if 'tis good advice or bad. He said nothing. .Then she stabbed him to the quick, though not .intentionally.' "Keep away from everybody till afterwards.! Let,'em all remember you as you were—not as you are." He flanied and started to his feet. 'llet, who had listened to (his conversation, also rose. The old woman glanced. at them, then held her needle •to (lie lamp and threaded it. ' ' . " That's how ; you pay for your keep,' stfid Dndd coarsely.- "That's how you sting the hand tha* feeds you. You're an evilminded old ; liar,' and you know it. - 'Hov,can a man change? : T ban't changed one hair. I'm the same as I always was—l'm But whit's the good of talking to you ?• -Another time, when my friends come to sec me, just you . keep oub of the way. And when I want vinegar from you—::—!' He broke off ! 1 and prepared to depart. Ilet begged him not to do so. But he refused, in a voice like- tlie slamming of a. dcor. A moment afterwards he had gone out. - .

Henny worked on unmovevd: Ilet also keyy l - silence for a while; then she spoke. " Why did you ray that? : 'Twas an awful cruel/thing to say,. mother.'' ' . "Not so cruel"as to keep it-from him. If once he could see -himself changed, .lie might fight back to his old self belike. So long as he thinks everybody else-is in-fault and himself: blameless, he'll go on, this fool's way till the folk be wearied of him. 'Twasn't so once, and vou -know it better than anybody.-1 You're right to love, him •and stick up for him ; but don't believe all this stuff about plans and plots and enemies behind every ga'epost. The truth is that nobody cares a, farthing about him now—one way' or t'other. 'Tis his business to make friends, like he used to make 'em—not- foes."

" That's true. All (he same, there's one terrib'e enemy be real enough. We can't pretend different. But for her, Bartlett would never have wanted to be Portreeve. For that matter, lie doesn't now." " Then 'tis for us to be better than her, and beat her side by force of right. 'Twas Mr Sim, the curate, told me he was ■putting: his foot in it by talking so much."

" I've fcnowei it- too: s«t , a cautious word when lie's ro'ol again. And I'll teU ypii another thing that's, very much in mv mind of late : that is to see her—Mrs. Slanniug. When first the thought came I put it away—then it came again : and-every day it's at me—a. sort of force driving- me to go to her. lvorrun to woman; and plead wiiK her to drop it." "He'd wring your neck if he catched you cut in that." ■ -

"I needn't tell 1 him. -Anyway he wouldn't iage' long, I reckon. "lis a wife's place, surely/ to fight for-a man if she ha? the power? I might do much." • '."No you wouldn't. If Mrs, Slanning's all. he thinks her, she'd laugh at you, and take very good ; care that lie should know after\as you'd been to her. He may ballyrag me till he's black in the face; and 110 harm done ; but it-', won't do ' for hinv ■to fall out-. with you." i • ::.■■■ ; " That's impossible." "Nought's impossible when a man's mind crows weak. That sort quarrels wi'h their best, friend first. Don't you give him the chance to Ml out- with you. 'Twould be the end of all things if-he clone that.""No hing. I could do . would bring .it about."

" All the same, hold off from; her. 'That's .71 hat. I say, IIet: : Just busy:, yourself .with keeping the !mam; in good .temper; itill they ; decide about it. •If--lie-gets' iv'twill be the beginning of better. things very like ;' for • his. temper : always r depends* •on how the -wind blows; and if it blows fa.ir, he'll soon be.'.better. company. ■lf it don't- .* —he loses, then 'twill be time enougfi to do suminat." • ■■ ■. ■ .

■ Ilet felt, the worth . of ...this advice,' and thanked Henny for if. ."I wish he'd listen, to you oftener^- for you've, got. -the wisdom ...of . years behind you," . she said. '" Anyway, . I'll ■ keep off from ' Slanning's' till after; and: do. what I can to make him easv." : ■ >

?/ " 'Tis , Sacrament - Sunday to-morrow," said Henny. " Make him go. The Lord's sniper works wonders in the: nun ior ioity-eight hours,, and sometimes more;" Vvoiferstan. returned before they had'.'fiuished . talking; and his first act. was to kiss Mrs -t-ierce and . express proiound contrition: and , sorrow 'iur his offence. Whereupon her firm .attitude ciumblea, and she wept, and forgave him and begged him 10 forgive "her. -

. Meantime the events the-coming election had worked a wonder in. another quarter and moved Richard B'arkell to-a definite deed. • A thing that lie had been morally powerless to perform on his own account, proved possible for. a. friend. He appreciated the immense importance of the coming election, and reluctantly decided with himself that he "must endeavour to help Wolferstan. The- younger Barkell was but. little: known, for, as became a yCuntemplative. man,, lie kepi much to himself and seldom frequented company. Certainly, not twenty people in Biidgetstowe had spokenu-witlv liim, and perhaps not fifty knew of his existence. But lhat fact ' did not .alter his plans. 1 He had no intention to canvass amongst the voters, or by any. such means advance his friend. A greater enterprise occupied his mind. ' Its ! iu ilitv seemed assured ; yet he felt the attempt worth making.' Ihe first place 1 Dodd -would not hear of it; and at ;woist, this thing he proposed could not lessen the chances of success.' Barkell therefore i strung himself to do ia. deed' very foreign to his natural . instincts.'.-.-.When: - leishire came, he put on his best clothes, took train.from Okehampton to- Bridge stowe, : and walked over to Slamiing's' to ;see ' the master of the mill. ' Orlando was at heme,-in. a little loom where be transacted, his business. Kvening had already .allien.. On hearing that a nun wan ed to sea him; ho rame to thel front door : ; but finding the stranger attired in broadcloth; invited him to enter. - Barkell wasted no time. He sat down, put his hard hat beside him, fixed his eyes 011 the others face and, began. " I hope you'll excuse me for troubling vou, Mr Sianning. I don't know that 'tw;'.s a very clever thing for me to come to you;- but 'tis for another ra' her than mvself."

'"I haven't got ;nn liour's v.ork for anybody, if that's \vhat;you- Avuut...- There are too nuiny lazy chaps here uilieddy,'' " I'hey- are. everywhere. I.here's n/i escape irom lazy chaps., so lons as the I<n\don't. ni;i]>e it a, crime. No, I ni not after work. >-My- name's Barkell, and .J'nv a rail-way-signalman on the L. and y.W.: X)odd Wolferstan is a friend of mine, -and I've made so bold as to-.come here unknown to him about' this business. ' " You're a 'medd'er then?" Barke'l Implied. His tens" r>f hrmour was tickled .by this ■word applied to him. "Not a do lib 1 , of it. though if there's a- sort of mail I can t-abide. 'tis that- sort. But a meddler I am in this job, and you've onlv gof to • tell-me to fro abo"t niv b ll ' iness, and I'll do so gladly. I don't take

to it." "The election, I suppose?"' "Yes. Mind I've no.. right to ask you questions, Mr Planning—no light, but soms leison. That man'e welfare hangs on this job. If he fails, you may have a ruined man on your mind. I say this to you and I come to you because you hold this election in the hollow of your hand. Of course everybody knows that."

Shinning had.meant to cut the interview short; but Dicky's flattery'pleased him.

"I suppose I do. Well, I'm keen on Roger Bartlett." " And that- fact as good-.as settles the business. I was wondering if such a spoilsman and such a renowned man for justice as you are—to be a j.P. they tell me— I was wondering if you'd thought of what a tiling it is to decide this election just by youi- own nod." "How can 1 help that? Baitlett's my candidate." :

" He's standing out of respect to you, because you wished it;" "A very good reason."

".The best possible, Mr Slanning. Don't think I'd presume to say different. Only I ventured to wonder if you'd thought what a difference it would t .make to Wolferstar.—your being against iiini. If your wishes weje not know, 'twould have been a fair fight and no favour; but your name m the countryside—you know wh>t it is. Once let- the people hear what you .ivish, and; tliey'll go your way. like sheep after ,the beltwether.. You're, the leading power 'here."

" So much the better for my candidate." "Lknow.; but is it so much the better for you? You're famed for fearless justice. You do good with both hands; The poor 'look up to yon. Well, now, if you throw your weight intp. the scale against Wolferstar—does it seem to you, as a man of grejt ideas and principles, that you ;ue be : ng just? ■ 'Tis a terrible serious thing to have such strength as you have. Not manv could be trusted with it.'.'

" I know tha\ It makes me feel rather solemn sometimes when I .look around the parish." . , - : "it would, no doubt. Not but what all men with brains are like to be solemn. Only the light-headed can ever be. lighthearted, Mr Slanning." ;•,/. "I don't s3y that. I.have.my ;oke with the best;" ■ ■ ■ / , . . * ■ (To be Continued.)