LITERATURE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 4746, 17 July 1883, Page 4

LITERATURE.

LOVJffl AT THE GOLD FIB LD3. (Diprose's Annual.) BT B. L. FABJIOS. (Continued.) It was midnight. Baeburn paced the dock wstteisly. "Will sho oomo?" he thought; " can she not feel the torture whiob. is weighs irq me down? Swift upon bis thought glided a graoef ul figure to his side. " Oharlie." R Ah, Elsie ! Thank God !" He pressed her in his arms ; he kissed her again and again. She was surprised to leel his tears upon her faco. "If I los 6 you," he Baid abruptly, " I should not caro to live. My heart, my aoul, »re in your keeping. I have suffered torturej the^e last two hours. Ob, Elsie, I feared you would not co r o Nay that you love mo." "Do you doubt me t.lr<ady, Oharl'eP I love you —Hove you." "And you will be trua to mo ?" " B'or ev--r a< d ever." Another figuro stepped towers iL;m— divided them— the figure of Mm B- " Blsie, my child, what fciings you on d«-ck at this hour ?" She drew the trerobling girl away — oonduoted her below —and roturnod alone. "Mr Baeburn, she «id; "jou are fatee to your word. You huve behaved treacherously towards me. It is part of the truth and honour of a gentleman, I supposo, to endeavour to disturb the heart of a simple, innocent girl like my adopted daughter, who is promised to another man— who loves another man. But you ehull cot tear her from me. I will find my boo without your help. Ai yon hope for salvation, do nothing to thwart the fulfilment of a mother's dearest hopes !" Three weeks after the passengers landed, a Covered dray half-loaded with goods, with a pair of sturdy horßes, was wending its way to raids the M'lvor Diggings. Within tho covered awning were seated two women j by tLe side of the horses walked tho driver, encouraging his cattle to do their last two Biik-s of the any'/ journey with a will. They vite within 1 "nrtcen miles of M'lvor, too groat a diet 1 ;- - < to traverja before night, '^hey camp in '■ >if >a hour, and by mid -day to-morrow Al i-.vr will bo reached. The women are couvtioing. "iKlsie, my dream laefc night troubles me sorely." "Pl&co no faith in it, mother ; dreams seldom oome true." Iho girl sighed as she Bpoke. Sho hj-A dreamt last night of one she dearly loved j that they were together onoe more, never to part again. How Bwiftly has life's fair pror.iie been blighted. "But, Elsie, it m*y have beon Bent to me aa a sign. Never before have I dreamt that my boy was dead, and now it comes to me after all these year*. Oh, God ! have pity on mo." "We are in Hia hands, mother. Bear in mind what you said to me — that He •wonld guide us." " Yea, obild, He will guide vs — has He not done so already? From place to pluce, through theße silent forests, xuwer and nsarar to my lad— and the driver te'la ns he has a clue. Ab, Elsie, how you J comfort me ! What should Ido if you were to leave me?" "I will not leave you, mother; to you I owe my first duty." Her lip? quivered, and she paused a moment or twu before she continued. " And mother, if it Bhould bo true— if it were God's will tbat he should bo takeD, you mns? bear it." " Oh, child, ohild, what ore you sajing ? " "I am striving to otrsngthen you, dear, for what might be. Evan if you h*vo lost him, would rot the loss ba sweetened by the knowledgo that be died a good death ? " IChe tears flowed down the old woman's face, but she cried sileatly, and presently she tlfivd the girl, and Baid, " You do strengthen jr.e, child j I am old, and cannot have many ye-»rs to live ; Bhould he be dead I am very near him ; if he died a good daath, I shall still blc-.i God?" "Spell, Oh!" It was the diver's hearly voice announcing that the day's journey was at an end. " J9ow, ladies, if jou will ailow me to help you down— that's your aort! A feather's weight!" Ha had iifcad Elsie from the dray, swinging her lightly dow, and was now assisting Mrs Bray. "We camp here for the night ; take this tin niah— you see the dip of the land yonder— at tha bottom of it you will find a creek with ■till a little water in it, thanks be ! Tho sun hasn't dried it all up. Fill the saucepan firs'-, for tea, then toko what you want, gently, so »s r.ot to muddy tho creek, artl wash the dust c.it of your eyes while I hobb'e the horses." Po sooner said than done. In half an hour fcliey were sitting on a rug f.-read over the gr-.mad almost like a fami'v party having their tea, which they drauk out of tin paanikins. Bread asd butter, and fine seed cake— and boiled eggs, in egg-cups actually — and marmalade — and sardines ! You would never have ezpeotcd to sea such a luxurious meal set out in the woods. The foot if, for what is the use of trying to disguise the truth. —It wbb the drivor who did it all. A fine, tiown-bearded man that drivor, observant, helpful, unobtrusive, th 3 sort of man to make everything comi or lable anyvrhero, and to prevent things geaerally from going wrong. A xn.aroy that thoy picked him up in Mcl« bourne, having been recommended to them £3 a trustworthy man who was going the round of various geld diggings — Tarrengorrer, CtistlemainO; Sandhurst, M'lvor— stopping at C3oh just long enough for them to make any inquiries they desired. A proper sort of man indeed ! Why, when tea waa over, and the lar.iios wouldn't have any more— auch & man for coaxkig they had nover met in all their torn days — why, in little rcore thin the time it takes to teli it, he fixed up (us he had done every night) the nattiont little tent you had ever dapped eyes on, with a couple of matl«*ses and everything neoessary for a good Eight's rest. A handy man from the orown Of his head to the sole of his feet.

Soon tho ladies were in tbeir natty tent, &nd not long before they were aaleep. Theae long days in the open air were healthfully tiricg. Elsie did neb know at what time of the night 6he awoke, nor how long she had fcosn sleeping. Why did she awako ? If she cad taken the trouble to inquiro of herself, sbe could not havo told, but certain it is that she lay quite contented and happy in this wild spot, liatoning to a familiar sound. The Bound of a man's soft whistling. And the air P What could it be but " Let ns haste to Kslvin Grove, Bonnie Lassie, O ! " Where was sho then ? Why, aboard ship, of course, where sho had hoard the old song whistled — very sweetly, too— by a certain person who was nevir absent from her mind. Gradually, however, the local delusidn faded away, and she knew that sbo nas lying in a canvas tent in the Australian Trooda. It was the tinkliDg of the bslla attached to the hc-wes* necks that forced thiso'-nsaougnesauponr at. There oould be no harm in endeavouring t » ascertain who it wo? that wa3 amusing hKsdlf.or herself, or itself (Elsie, let it be known, had a pretty knack at whistling, in which she sometimes indulged when no one was by) with the old familiar air. Harm or not, she could not restrain her curiosity, being a very woman in every nerve of her dainty body. So out of bed eho slipped— softly, in order not to disturb Mrs Bray, who was sound asleep— and quietly dresjed herself, and then crept liko a mouao into the open. She looked about her, and in an instant discovered who it was whose whistling had aroused her. Upon the trunk of a tree which had beoa cut down for a camp fire sat the driver. Hia back was tawarw ± her, and there was a distance of some ten yai'ds betweoa them. Sho stood still for a little while, debating whether she should speak to him, and a blush stole into her face as Bhe decided that such a proceeding on her part might bo misconstrued. Although they had been travelling togathor far many days — although he had been extraordinarily kind and attentive to her in a hundred thoughtful and unobtrusive ways— they were, after all, in a measure strangers to each other. No ; she 'would creep back to bed as quietly ss she had left it, and he would never know that she had been watching him. Unless, indeed, in tho morniDg she had an innocent joke with him on the subject. Bh? stepped backward to Ihe tent, and, aa ln;k would havo it trod upon some dry leaves, vliioh craokled beneath her feet— a sharp, clear sound which- set her nerves a-quivering. Ihe man sprasg from the tree, and crying, "Stand ! " covered her with hia revolver. In mortal fear the fell upon her knees, and hid her face in her hands— removing them almost instantly, ashamed of her unreasoning terror. Is ho looked up bold!.- , bravely, at the man who wa3 now cloeo vi "a her, and aaw, standing over her, Charlie Ri^-burn! He, and no other ; with no hair upon_ his face but a brotm moustache ; in his right hand a revolver, in his left a glorioua brown beard, bushy enough to turn a sinner into a saint* (outwardly), and to bo transmogrify any moitalman, that it would bo impossible for hia own mother to recogniie him. The driver's beard, not a doubt of it ! I hay seized the situation in the aarao rnorn^ fc, <\ moment of delight and ecstasy. Elsit <ua the first to eptak. "Shtmoful impo3;uro!" she said, jrith the Undereat smile, her eyes swimming

in happy tears. " Fa] bo hair ! for a man to wear it ! a woman's deareat prerogative ! " "Huih!" he whispered, with his finger to his lipa ; " see if your mother is Bleeping." He turned his book, and bUo stepped into the tent, and out of it. " Thank heaven," she Baid, "we have not aroused her." "Bo I'm discovered," ho said, with a bright look. "Yes, sir, you aro discovered," Bbc replied soverely. He opened his arms. What could Bhe do ? Her pulses wore beating witk love for him. Had he not given her the most devoted proof of faithfulness wom&n over was b!e»t with ? She fell into his arms, and received hia kiaaos, and returned — one, and allowed her lipa to rest upon his shameful smooth face. If anyone double that this bold entorprieing lover had earned the sweet reward— well, let them doubt. Pity to disturb their over-chaste souls. " Oh, Oharlie," murmurod Elsie, " you are a wonderful man ! " " And you, the deareat, sweetest darling the world contains," he aaid in reply. (To be continued.)