THE HEART OF THE MISTLETOE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 7322, 7 February 1902, Page 4

THE HEART OF THE MISTLETOE.

(By EDWARD BOLTWOOD.) CHAPTER I. When the stage-waggon came finally to an uncompromising blockade of snow, the confidence of the three passengers collapsed. They had left Merrick with an hour of daylight assured to them by the driver, but the hour had been chopped short by the whirling sleet; the vehicle had floundered more and more villainously, up and down,this wav and that; and when all motion of any 'sort had ceased, young Whitaker pulled up a corner of the curtain and peered out. The coachman's face appeared at the window. , " Wai," he remarked, " I snum, here we be!" ; " Why, • the fact's beyond argument," cried Whitaker, bestowing his chin over the collar of his wraprascal; "but where? That's the point." , The driver rubbed the frost from his eyebrows wjth the end of his thumb, and con- j ■idered gravely. : "Danged if I know," he said. Professor Sapp cleared has throat and ttade a rotatory motion of his head, as if Jhe-were about to speak. 14 "You are not to expose yourself, Leonard," said bis wife. "Remain silent. Do you mean to convey, idiot, that you have lost the road?" " B'goshtalmighty, there ain't none, replied the ccachman. "We're nigh onto the' State line o' New Hampshire, there s where'we be, and there's where we'll stay for a- spell, tew, 'less ye kin -Bmff it:" _ "But whither can we hoof it?" inquired iWhitaker. The fellow grinned. ■ " Most anywheres, so's you're lively," he ■uggested. " "You are a creature of penetration, ■eaid the young man. "What's your name 7" " Sim Crane." ' — „-- -"Oh Lord, that ends it!" cried Whitaker. "If it were Ajax, now, we oould expect. something of you, but as it is —well," Sim Crane, what do you propose to do ? Here is nightfall, a risic-z snow-storm, a stagecoach lost in the wwderness, an imperilled cargo of youth, wisdom 1 and beauty" —the lady sniffed contemptuously —"and a reliance named Sim Crane! Speak out, Sim." " I'm a-gcin' t' take the toughest one o' them there hosses," .said Sim, doggedly, • "and light out fer Hudbury. Can't be inore'n half a mile er a mile, er two an' a 'alf maybe, er four—must lay t' the east-ard, I guess, sure." A sound suspiciously like a chuckie arose from the roils of cloth which dominated the professor, and his'wife said — "We are ourselves for Hudbury—Professor Sapp and I —and it is our first journey out of Cambridge in twenty years, M " "Randolph Whitaker," supplied the yoUng gentleman, with a bow. . "Mr Whitaker—and it is most ..urgent that w« should be at Major Outram's tonight. A wedding, sir ; 'the Major marries the professor's, niece on Christmas Daymorning. " Randolph tugged idly at the curtain. " The Major is to be congratulated," said *«• • ■ "Elizabeth is Outram's ward," went on tlift aunt. "The Major, T repeat, is our niece's guardian." "It is like a novel," rejoined Whitaker, politely. "Are you going to tell a story? *Tis most appropriate to the time and seaBon, ma'am." "But don't you Eec?" cried Mrs Sapp, in high disdain. " That booby Sim has ridden off', and we may be delayed here forever! The professor is very delicate, and —oh, heavens! are you good ior nothing at all, young man?" The lady's contempt was becoming wrathful, and to appease it sha fell to knotting an extra tippet with > dangerous tightness about the neck of 'her helpless spouse." Whitaker opened the coach door and ploughed his way to a.near vantage-point, from which he made out the shadowy blot of a house, lying ' a matter of^ a furlong across the field. ' He waded back to the distressed conveyOnce and shouted through the window openupg: " Salvation is in sight, ma'am. To ba particular, a house." " Let us go to it at once," said Mrs Sapp, %ith surprising alertness. She jumped from the door, a tall, thin figure of a woman in a camlet cloak and Ihood, and assisted her husband to descend. The professor seemed to cough continuously, the lady /began to wheeze before she had taken twenty paces, and even Whitaker's breath was short by the time they had vanquished th© drifted channel of" a lane and reached the shelJ7er of the house porch. " Is this by any luck the hospitable mandon of your niece's guardian?" queried the youth, over his shoulder, of Mrs Sapp, who stood behind 'him, grimly propping the tottering form of her lord. ."Major Outram lives on village street," she said, with literal iciness. "Neither of us knows the neighbourhood more than you." . " Please take it, then, come in," Randolph cried, desperately, putting his knee to the door and pushing it open. "There's no lock, anyhow, and I can see a fire; This is not so bad." \ , The Sapp family seated itself while WMtaker made another examination. The parlour was as bare as a ball-room, a few chairs placed precisely by the wainscoting, and unused candles stuck in a sconce over the mantel. Whitaker lit one of these and Ftepped curiously into the passage. Here ■was.no furniture at all—no pictures, curtains or signs of habitation, alhd none in the room beyond; as he recrossed the hall he noted a bunch of mistletoe depending from the moulding. CHAPTER H. "What's the meaning of all this? Is anybody at home?" demanded Mrs Sapp when Whitaker re'turilfed. "Not at this moment,• ma'am," said he. "Certainly this is a strange house. I can't make it out." " The kitchen might give us a clue," she solemnly observed, and the dozing professor sighed in sympathetic approval. " Excellently spoken," cried Randolph, picking up Ms candle. " Permit me to lead *he way. The kitchen by all means, and let us pray it affords us something more substantial than a clue. lam sharp set as can be, and as for —" Mrs Sapp's warning finger interrupted him. "Somebody comes," she said. "It is, ro doubt, the householder. No visitor would be abroad on such a might." They all listened intently,' and above the moaning wind they heard a rat-tat on the door. " Another guest," declared Randolph. He

screened the candle with. Jus hand, stepped into the hall, turned the knob, and the new-comer crossed the threshold without a word. " I obeyed the instructions of your note, Mr Jermayn," the stranger said, in a nasal twang. "Here I am in spite of the weather." ' " I beg your pa.rdon," Randolph began. "We are onjy guests heTe. You "spoke of Mr Jermayn.; Is he — " "Ah, he is not yet returned?" resumed the minister: ; : "Well, well, I rejoice ih*+. he has bidden some friends, for I would have insisted upon just this. John Lepsey is no back-door chaplain, ma'am." "I haven't, an idea what you mean, sir," th.ci lady. "We are here by accident, and—" . ■ " Peace ; let us dissemble no further," advised, Mr Lepsey, loftily. " A chair, if you please, my friend. Under the circumstances, I dare say that the interesting cccasion which calls us here is better untouched' until Mr Jermayn finishes his dangerous ■ errand. Let us not know too much." The parson enshrined a majestic foot upon each andiron and relapsed into gloomy silence. Whitakei felt that his own dignified composufe* was toppling, and he was on the very verge of a laugh, when a pane of the .window: behind 'his back shivered, the glass flew at his feet, and a slender wisp of snow streamed across the floor. The professor's wife jumped up with a> B^P- ■..'-.-.. " There's- a man outside there," she exclaimed. "Look, look !" Randolph turned about. There was nothing, to be seen in the blackness. "You mWbs mistaken," he replied. But the words were hardly out of his mouth before a hoarse yelling came to prove that the lady was right. "I'll send you to hell for this, Jermayn," said a screaming voice. "Look to your life within there, Jermayn. Down with the door, Abraham. Let him have **•" 1 The outburst was so sudden that Whitaker was for the instant petrified. When he reaphed the door it hung open on the chainV 4»niel the bolt was straining. . " Hold shouted the young man, flinging his broad shoulder against the panel.. "What the devil is all this?" "And who the devil are you?" snailed a voice through the six-inch opening. " Unfasten there, if you don't want the house torn down on your head." '* " You're a fool, whoever you, are," said Whitaker, hotly. "The master of the house is from home, and I never saw him, nor you, either." " You lie," began the assailant ; and then, with a wrathful choke, he rattled out ■ a volley of foul and blasphemous abuse which sent the blood surging to Randolph's temples. He cast about him for a weapon, but Lepsey's heavy cane was his only find. "No more of that," he cried, gripping the gnarled, stick.. "There is a lady here and-r- 1 -" •?,.: . : -\. - ■■-■■ ■ ' "A lady?" echoed $he .outsider,, ;with infuriated shrillnessjvi" A\Ja&Y?; -You.. thief, didn't I see the hussy, and the parson, too? I've had enough tomfoolery. • Down with it, Abe." •Any resistance was in vain. An overpowering weight was thrown upon the door, the chain bolt snapped, and half a dozen men stood revealed upon the threshold. ";u ;. f .: ; '-. "Take the wenchY and -in* minister too, Zenas," roared one who seemed in authority, a tall, gaunt-faced man in a blue cape, as Randolph . saw him in the dimness. "Settle the 'biisinciss here' and now. Muffle their heads and listen to nothing they say." The ruffians made for the parlour. Whitakei; struck viciously at the first and knocked him ,dpwn,'.bufc .the others kept on. The taill man shouted an oath, and drew his hanker from' underneath his coat. The commotion in the parlour told Whitaker that tJhe. marauding crew were carrying out orders, but his antagonist swung the steel so savagely that Randolph backed against the wainscoting, unable to come to the rescue of his companions. . Naturnily enough, the time came when the young .man thought more of his at-' table than of his defence.. He thrashed out with" his stijjk so forcibly upon the «m]>ty air that he lb'st his footing and fell to oiie knee. '■• Tie swordsman laugFed, whiTfe-i his VeaT}f>|j high over his head, and brought it down like an axe falling on a traitor's neck. Randolph was very near to death, but in its descent the blade caught in a hahc;ing obstruction, swerved, and the of ifc struck harmlessly upon his shoulder. Something rustled on the floor, and his fineers caught in the bunch cf mistletoe which had been cut down by the stroke.- ' The murderous stranger was unsteadied for a moment by the violence of his effort and when Whitaker, with a wild instinct, plunged the thorny mistletoe hard and square into the man's face, he was so runfounded; and stung that he reeled in retreat, and Randolph pressed- him, with^the bludgeon. But. - . : t.he ; fight ■ <wasr,iover, ; and Whitaker was left in the empty hall, endeavouring to assemble his straying wits. . The professor stood in the centre of *iie hearth -stone. ■ . "Sharp work, eh, Mr Whitaker?" ;aid he. "No harm done, I hope ?" "None to me. Of all the unaccountable. But "what*, happened here? Mrs Sapp? The parson?" '•' .. . "Taken away, sir ; captured vi et armis. Electa gave 'em a tussle, though," he added,'appreciatively. " But, good Lord, I— we should follow them up,!" cried Randolph, in consterna tidn. ' "George seems to be a man of great violence," observed Dr Sapp. • "George?"-' " George himself ; I recognised his voice. He was the gentleman whom you received so cordially in the hall." l The professor dropped into a chair, clapped both, hands to his face, and shook "n a silent ecstasy of mirth. Whitaker's gorge rose beyond his mastery ; he regained the parson's staff and strode to the window, wearing an ugly frown. Outside there was no sound or sight of the kidnappers. Suddenly the bang of. a distqnt door seemed to come from the rear of the house, and the listening occupants of the parlour heard footsteps clicking on the bare boards of tha passage. - ■ ■ "Who's there?" shouted Randolph. "Is that you, Lepsey?" rang out a sturdy voice. "Good— here we are as safe as ninepence," and with these words a man and a girl burst into the room; the man, a broadly-built young fellow, with ruddy lace and dancing eyes ; the girl, a> tall, radiant beauty, in a gray camlet cloak and hood. j CHAPTER IH. I The man looked from Randolph to the professor, and back again, and raked his brows in frank wonder. ._ ;"Where the plague is Lepsey?" said he. "©id you come with him— or how?"

" Oh, Ambrose, these strangers !" sighed the la.dy, half fearfully. " Let me apologise, sir," Whitaker volunteered. " This gentleman and I were driven here by stress of weather, and while we were waiting the owner's return — " "I'm he," broke in. ths other; "I'm Ambrose Jermayn'." "The name is familiar." "I don't doubt you," cried Jermayn, stormily. "Look you, sir, if you're here on an errand for Major George Outran!, by heavens, I'll run you through !" " I can't tell George Outran from George the Third," retorted Randolph, " but if there's any running through to be done, I'm your man, Ambrose ! In the way of sociable entertaining this house isthe'climax of amusement. me the parson's cudgel— -I shall break your head with the greatest pleasure in life, if madam does not spoil sport." "•He spoke of the parson," sbs said, clinging to Jermayn. "Did you hear, Ambrose? There is some terrible mistake. Where is Mr Lepsey — and, oh, what is to be done?" " Hush, Betty," said Jermayn. "We shall be married to-night, in spite of -twenty puardian Ou trams, if we have to walk to Merrick for a minister." "If • we can * help you — " suggested Whitaker. ....... "Devil take you," snapped Ambrose, "will you read the service from the prayerbook?" . " Anything for a quiet evening," agreed Whitaker. Tbs three young people regarded one another for a solemn second. ; then the girl's face dimpled with a most delicious and rory smile, and an uncontrollable spirit of mirth seized them simultaneously. "Come, let us "clear this puzzle," said Randolph. " Believe me, we were brought, together for a purpose, and I assure you' that I'm to be trusted. Let us review your plighv." * ' . "Tell him, Ambrose," commanded the girl. " You've stumbled on so much already, sir, that .you should know the whole ©f it," Jermayn began, with engaging confidence. "This divine creature, and I are eternally in love." \ "You astonish me." -" "It is true. The flame was first kindled at Baltimore, where she was visiting. I followed her to Hadbury, and leased this very mansion, so as to- be near ber. Here I've existed like a hermit, keeping no spying servants, waiting my chance. She lives in the village with her guardian, w.ho means to maxry her to-morrow; Major George Outrfcm he is called, and a damned villain," "I know him now," cried Rudolph, highly delighted. " I have mad© his acquaintance. Go on." " Our extremity was desperate," continued Jermayn-. "We planned tc- elope, and, by Jove, we have done it. Behold us!" " And. please, sir, say that you, think no worse of me," Betty faltered. "As I live," said Randolph, "you ajre all that is angelic," and he kissed 1 hit fingertips. < " But there's a thorn to the rose," pursued Ambrose, somewhat hastily, <r "and that is this — -where's the minister? Has he blundered? As soon as the Matjor discovers Betty's escape, the monster will • follow the "trail here. I confess I am uneasy." " The Major has been here already,'.' said Whitaker. • , The lovers stared at him incredulously.. " Oh, I am sure of it. He attacked the hour© before you reached it ; he thumped me with ai sword, 'and. carried off. the parson and another." "In the name of common sense, tell us what .you mean," begged the lady. "My dear," sacd the professor, "let me dlo that." . Randolph had clean forgot him. The old gentleman ambled forward into the circle of fireligtht, and when his face ait last was viisible, Miss Betty tossed up both her hands with an "Oh, Umcle. Lenny!" " Uncle Lenny !" shouted Ambrose* "Who the deuce is Uncle Lenny?" . "Don't you know me, Jermayn?" asked the Professor. " Five yvears ago at Harvard you shook in your shoes at sight of nie." ' . "Dr Sapp— ara-d Betty's uncle!" "Right, sir. You are quicker at percept'ldn than you used *o be in the class-room.:" "And he loves me, Uncle Leoaiardj" aaid the girl. ; ■ . . The Professor pushed back the grey hood and smoothed ids nieoe's Jiair ' with a clumsy tenderness. . " There ! there ! Bet," he said ; " I see now that, you've had a bad .guardian in George and neglectful uncle in myself. But here I am in .the nick of time." "Where's Aunt Electa?" inquired Miss Betty.. '• " .■'■'■ The learned man grinned,, and Randolph., seeing through fche situation, slapped, his leg and guffawed without restraint.,, " Major Outram has had her kidnapped," explained the Processor, gleefully. "He saw her through the window, and thought that she was yourself. Dear me— l really am afraid——" . , "For her?" . "On tie contrary, for George. Electa is so energetic." ■...•■ . With this Dr Sapp gave way, the tears ran down, his cheeks, and not until Ambrose had slapped 'him. vigorously between the shoulders could he <speak again. "Pardon me," he gaisp&H. "It is the only joke I have acquired at Electa's expense in • forty gomewhat prosaic years. The minister, too! Ttonk you, Mr Jermayn," amd he wiped his eyes. " You should go to Major Outnam'a immediately"-' urgwi the troubled girl. ■ "There's no hurry," said Dr. Sapp. "The danger' is not imminent. You don't know her as well as I do." • ' r "But here are these two* lovers," hinted Randolph. ■ " Bless my soul !" cried the Professor. "I am unspeakably selfish. Ambrose Jermayn, I know you and I know your family, amd. if Bet does not love Outram, and does love you — " "Which seems likely," Whitaker interpolated, for. she was in Jermayn's embrace at the moment. "Why, vhen," continued Dr Sapp, "you're a fine fellow, and you shall have her." . " Then we must run for a minister," exclaimed the rapturous Ambrose. "Let us set out for. Major Outram's," said the professor. "We shall make.everything clear to him." " No, no, no,". Miss Betty declared. " I shall never go there of my own free-will Uncle Leonard, I fear him so ! Let Ambrose and I be married to-night, and without his knowledge." "I have the papers and the certificates and all," said Jermayn, ruefully, " and the bunch of mistletoe, Betty, that was over our heads in the forest that day when you promised. Do you remember? I swore we'd have it hanging at the wedding." " Where did I hear," Whitaker muttered, abstractedly, "that college professors were sometimes ordained to the ministry?" Dr Sapp spun on his heel.

"Betty! Ambrose!" he said. "If I dared ! It never occurred to me." The maiden started, drew in her breath joyfully, wound her arms about his neck, whispering appeals into his ear ; Randolph called Jermayn aside " Put the screws on the old chap, Master Ambrose," he insisted, in a low voice. " He's a game one with his wife away — you see ! I'll go and fetch the mistletoe," and he hurried down the hallway. When Randolph re-entered the front apartment with the mistletoe under las arm, it was apparent that the professor i had yielded. "Tis Outram," said Jermayn. "Not a moment is to be lost. Sir, we are ready — are we not, Betty?" ■■■-■■■-_ . The bride blushed submissively, and gave Jermayn her hand ; Professor Sapp cleared his throat, and Randolph brandished '.he bunch of mistletoe over the couple's heads. In a- fraction of a minute the deed was dene, and Whitafcer pushed forward with the laudable purpose of saluting Mrs Jermayn before her husband could accom- 6 piish it. But something dropped out of the mistletoe and twinkled on the floor. Randolph stooped and found a heart-shaped pin, set with jewels. "What's that?" asked the professor. "My weddirig-gif b .to Mistress Betty," said Whitaker, with a bow. "It is vastly like a clasp I've seen my guardian wear," the lady remarked, as she turned it over in her palm, " but I thank you, and I shall keep it always." "You do honour to the former owner of it," laughed Randolph, in an excess of enjoyment. " Now then for the wedding supper—eh ! Ambrose?" "' : - " There's Madeira and a meat pie in the pantry,!! suggested Jermayn. "But if that" was the Major we saw coming — " and in direct answer to his thought a knock resounded on the door. ■ , "Come in," yelled Whitaker. " "Now what can he say or do? I'm sorry that George is a bit late for the ceremony, but a swig of Madeira will do him good." To the relief, however, of all except Randolph, the visitor was Sim Crane. The coach was again in commission. "We will gp to Major Outram's," def cided Dr Sapp, " and explain. No — fear nothing, Betsy. I shall make it .clear to him, and if I can't Electa can." "I'm willing," Ambrose agreed. "We may as well have it over with," and Mrs Ambrose acquiesced. "Well," said Whitaker, reflectively, "I think that you may leave me here. The wine and the pastry and the fire — why, it's a sin to desert them. I mean to celebrate this lucky mistletoe." He tore sprigs from it and decorated every one, not forgetting Sim. "You can be comfortable, sir, if jou insist on remaining," replied Mr Jermayn, "and you'll find blankets and fuel in plenty. As for the mistletoe," he concluded, " it's; a lucky one, indeed, for it brought me Betty." " And gave me my only wedding-gift," said the bride, gaily. So they parted with a profusion of good wishes and hopes for a future meeting, and Uncle Leonard, Ambrose, Betty and Sim bustled out into the wintry night. Whitaker, having made the door secure, found the well-stocked larder with. the wonderful intuition' of a hungry man, and returned to the fire carrying an armful of provender. He heaped up the logs, knocked the head from a bottle, and stretched himself contentedly'on the settle. The battered bunch of mistletoe was on the mantel-piece ; Randolph blew a kiss at it. "A very merry Christmas, thanks to you t " said he.