THAT EVENTFUL NIGHT.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 3135, 25 April 1878, Page 3

THAT EVENTFUL NIGHT.

" Li:cotto ! Lisetf.3 ! do not go ! "oh, do not go ! — such :in hour i suck a night ! " Tho girl's voice co'iser], aud to tlic darkness ol : tlie inu![lofl < i urth a deeper d:i.rkni k sa seemed added by the dying of her tone-?. There was no sound .ibvoud. No light o.vaio i'roni tlie vacant blaukncss overhead. I^o ray helped the eve to :i;i idea of distance. There was no r.vcans of deti'rininiiig any object outside the limits oF touch. The door step upon which tlie ' ' spcalroi* stood, the doov-jjn*nh.*s which slio grasped as she leaned 'forward into the formless roid, wlto all foi* wliicli sho had j.he ovidonco of .Jiov senses. She knew hex youngoi' sis!-er Lisetfce had passed through that door. She knew that door opened un a short «ardeu [iath terminating at a gate on i\ long, bleak, pftruij'lifc road that ran iutros-3 ;i desolate moor, bhe knew tliat for miles oil cither side no habitation of v.mn, no tree, no ■toll shrub vsras visible by dtiv, •■At 'each aide of the road a deep drain lay mute, stagnant. Marion knew all ibis, und wore. She know that upon tho morning of t!m day a ■mosFivgc }jad come saying that. John

Maine would call and see Lisette that night. John Maine and Lisette • were lovers. John Maine had made love to Lisette for a year ; six months ago all had been settled. But somehow of late Lisette was sad ' and John Maine came rarely,. and did not at ay long, and sent messages but seldom. Something was •wrong. Lisette did not complain. She said there was something strange about John, but that he was as kind — -kinder to her than ever; he seemed, however,, uneasy, and absentminded,, and changed; changed, in what she could not tell ; in general manner rather than towards her. And. Marion of this matter could learn no more.. Marion thought a good deal. She thought— Ah, my poor Lisetto! my own, my only sister Lisette! it wilt kill her if anything goes wrong, for she is a deep, wild, passionate nature. Few suspect that — she is so quiet, so still, so absent-minded in her eyes. But she loves John Maine. She loves him so much that life is a skylark's song, but he. the sun. She loves him so that the obscure waters lying out there, on either side of the road through the sheer black would be the Lpthe of her despair. That Marion thought. Why did lie not come ? It was close to midnight, after eleven some time. She and Lisetto had sat up in the back of the house waiting. Their mother,, and old Jano the housemaid, and old Tom the gardener, had gone to bed early. Oh, why had lie not came? Could it be that he was th-iii" of Lisette? Could that; be?-' She turned^bor head from right to left in the direction of the clefts, of stagnant water, and shuddered. The village of Barrowleigh, where John Maine lived, was only four, miles distant down that road. They both, she and Lisette, had often seen him a mile off, as he came towards them waving Ms hat, or his handkerchief, or both. Oh, how Lisette's face would brighten" when she saw him,! How her dark°eves would light up ! How her pale check would flush ! How her hands would relax on anything she held, her hat or a flower, lettin^'it fall to. the ground! How she- would bend forward her neck and seem, to listen for his voice, with her ears, with her hungry eyes, with her parted lips ! And how quickly and softly her breath would come ! 'But once he ■was near and could see, she changed. She became her. old, calm self again, and/only for a. strange,, deep undev-trill in her voice, -siiid-ii. certain wonderful lengthening out of 'syllables' 1 until they acquired new and deeper meanini'B, j he might have been old Tom the gardener. ! Once in the dusk, when the two sisters had been talking of him,. -and; Marion had saidJ something about her being too cold, she- had arisen and Hungup her arms and then diawn them swiftly across her bosom and -held them ! fast, whispering :— . ; "Mylovo! my love! If yo'.i only knew how wild I am about you!" If you. only knew how my heart aahes when you are no'fc here! how my very .soul seems dull with excess of pleasure when you are by !" ' Then she had sat down and askkl Marion, ' <% ' What diiV I say ? Somo r.onsn'oe, no i doubt. Don't mind my. nonsence, Marion. I Let us go oiit into the air.". ' And after that Marion stood in, a kind of of fear of Lisette, and let. her be.. "Lisette was now gone oufr into that, awful night, at that wild hour. She had offered her company, but Lisette ' would npt hear of it. Lisette had " If I do not hear his footstep when I have gone a mile, I shall then return. The walk will do me good, I shall sleep better after it." . ' ; But there is no chance of his comin^, of his buing on the road afc such an hour." : " Tuere is something horrible in- the air, I ;am suffocating, and must walk. Wait up for m», ami have a light— this dark is hideous." ■~No one ever came by that road after dayl^iil; was gone except those for the Moor House, so that Marion folt 'none of the ordinary uneasiness such a design might oh use. After a little while she turned into the house, leaving the front door open, and sat down in the back room, awaiting the re- , turn of Lisette. Along the straight road lying between the two, clefts Lisette walked slowly, with her head thrown up so that any sound in front might reach her quickly. She knew the road well, had known it from her earliest childhood. She could have trodden ifc blindfold. She did nofc know it was dai-k. She did not know it was still. She felt that if he were approaching she should hear his tread. She knew that when ha had come she should know his voice. Oh, it vvAs too bad he stayed away! What a change had- arisen in him ! How was this cruel change to be accounted for ? She had done nothing to cause it. There had been no quarrel. But worse, a thousand times worse than any quarrel, he had of lato grown reserved. He no longer spoke out to her freely and joyously, as in the delicious, bygone time.. In- her -.presence -he seemed nervous and ill at ease. When they met he scanned her face hastily, fearfully, as though lie dreaded something. What was it he dreaded ? .Not that she had altered towards him. He know her too well for that. But why did he shun her ? Of old, no evening passed without his coming. Now, for the past month, he had stayed a week away at a time. It was ten days since she had last seen him. This morning Tom the gardener had brought news ho would be with her that night. It was close to midnight now, and he had not arrived. Oh, how sunny-faced he . used to be ! How his blue eyes sot tencd when he looked into- hers ! How his strong arms wonnd slowly and surely round her, holding hoi 1 fcemloi'ly, bufc as though no power on earth could steal her from his embrace ! How his lips had lingered ! How he had shaken with sighs as he released her and went ! And now what had all tin's faded to ? He was Btill tender, but a half-concealed fear seemed to ' come between them. An airy dread appeared to unnerve his embrace and kill the sweet purpose of his eyes. An invisible hand drew him back from her, and their lips met but hastily. | Why" should this be ? Was not all arranged? > Were there not to be deep kisses now, while they were lovers ? Surely he might not fear she objected' to the delicious mystery -which t the lips of lovers know. .In her no alteration had taken place. What had caused it in him ? What could be the 1 reason for his keeping away ? Why did he seem to stand in continual expectation of something direful? She still kept on. She had only a misty, half-defined hope he would come. Ho had never before broken a promise made to her. She walkod and listened mechanically. Her spirit was busy with the past.. It had not yet gained the courage of desperation requisite for looking into the future. Why had he broken his promise. and not come ? Ooulrl it bs ? She put aside the thought that threatened her, turned her head rapidly from one side to the other to distract her mind, und prevent the . swoop her reuson had begun to make upon her peace. The house was now nearly a inilo behind her, yet no footsteps sounded. A frozen silence held tho earth ; darkness stood up like an ebony wall on tho moor. Would he come i to-morrow morning early a«:l explain ? Oh, j if ho woul.l only come and toll her, open his ! whole mind to her, and put an end to ! | She stood suddenly still as though the aiv had grown solid, and she were cased in a shroud of bronze. Neither sound nor light, had readied her, but. she' had trodden ! on something suit, lying right in the middle of the road. A moment she stood in numbed horror. Xo thoughts foiuicd in her mind, her discovery HUggiutud no idea. Her I'oafc rested on something soft, that I was all. With frigid slowness s!io stooped forward until her hand might touch the ground. Then sho stretched it tardily forth, j listening "'it' 1 I'll ncr nature as shs'clidso. ' Her hand discovered nothing., Site drew it back "towards her feet, and enc.;untcred a g.irment of souie kind. She r.iUccl this, stood a\'czl oix:o mora listening with all U;u* nature —but no sj'.ma came. Tlion har.dlijij: the garment cautiously, :is if it wero a living thing and a ruilo touch might kill it, the made out. lhat. iL was but half a garment.. . . . IJU-ul only one klcmvo. ... Tho left sltwva. . . . TLdi a jnai)\* coat. . . . Torn from the back of the )ie::k downward?. . . . Two pockets. . - . In the button-hole a flower. .; . . In t'.io breast pojlrufc f-wo letters. ; v v . O;;o loiter sealed with \y;it, . . . A siriiill 'seal: ... . And' near the sl-jj! two small round spots of wax. . . . Exactly corrospoudi! 1 .;; to two small spots which had fallen «v a I otter sho had iV-aL'il two days ago. . . . She sealed no letter but those to John Maine. . . .

Her letter to him. . . . The texture of the coat such as, he Had worn when last she saw him. ... A light summer dustcoat. . ... In the other pocket a= small leather case such as she had seen with him. . . .I n the case a ribbon such as she had given him. She replaced the portion of his coat where she had found ;it, crossed the road and stepping slowly and cautiously over the low dyke, stood beside one of the clefts of deep, still water. Inere was not a ripple washing in the rushes-not.a breath of wind stirring.. She felt her way to the edge of the water and leaned forward and listened. After a little time she stooped down and softly thrust her hand into the chill, mute waters. She drew her hand out slowly. The drops falling from ifc made sharp, clear, hissing whispers as they touched the surface. Save for this, all was hushed. She rose, regained the road, and, taking up the portion of the coat, walked deliberately m the direction of the house, holding what she had found in- both her. hands clenched on her bosom. She scarcely breathed She moved as though she feared by sound to wake something-to wake some hidden spirit that could toll a hideous history ; or to wake her own benumbed faculties into active dealings with the terrible, discovery she had made. She did not move her head to the right or to the left. She kept the upper portion of her body rigid. This might be nightmare, but the waking inWifc be still worse. What when there was liAit to see ? There was a flower in the button-hole A. rose. It it were a red rose, would that be the only red thing on that coat? Hush! Stop all thought. Hold all conjecture Dismiss all temptations of iinaßiuatiou-. Hold the coat fast, and yet not too tightly. Something might be crushed by holding it too tightly, and nothing of bis ou^ht to be crushed. Cherish the thing— the relicno! no! Oh, God! not that thought. But how. ? Hush!- Stop all thought. Hold fill con jecture. Dismiss all temptations of imagination. There was. not use in goin^ ■quickly. She would be at the house in time, and .then there would be light, and sho could sec. See what? Away! away! away with, such fancies ! There was no use in hnvryin", for -nothing could be done but look air the ooatuml kih> if there was a rod spot, Oh, ..umrluess ! 2Sfo-~no ! Down ! down with such thoughts.- Marion would be waiting- up with aJight. With alight! Would ifc lo.best to put away what she harl found until morninV and ..then ■- The daylight, would give her more courage to look. The fuller light, would be betfc.esy for all .could then be seen at a glance. But with :i candle they should have to turn what she had^ found over and over, and who could do sucli an appalling thing as turn that coat over and dvcv ? Suppose, as site turned ifc orer in the candli ? lit, her- hand her hand touched som«tliiii<» damp, Fomethin"damp and okuimj ! Mercy! oh. mercy. Keep still! keep, quiet.! .what is : that above the earth there overhead, hell or heaven? and who reigns? and — — .= Should she now, as she walked along, pass one of her hands" down it, and try to discover if -there " was anything " damp ? No. If she fell on the road,' before she saw the spot, shi> could not die satisfied in the dark. . . , HereVng the honso. She would not call Marion, but enter at the open door. What could -be the meaning of the sweetbrioi* having the same smell, now. as it had a month agorr-as it had even an hour ago ? Tom must cut down that sweetbrier in the morning. . (To be continued.)