CHAPTER II.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 7802, 5 September 1903, Page 2

CHAPTER 11.

The mist had thickened. Aliok was rend'y to start lor home, when, h*> was call- 1 ed back to speak to the foreaneai of tjli& works, a,ud this delayed him. When toe) finally began fco oross the Esbam naealdowsi that lay between, him amd the tow-path, hcl could scarcely see Ms own hand held out a couple of feet before him. But ihe wa<9 wrapped In his thoughts ; they smsilcd) at him as they had done for .montihs. Hei had) gone ix> and fro from his ■wojrfc in, tpicl woollffli factory of Esham for so many years that he took no heed of fch!« vraj; even in this blindiing niist it seemed U> h&mi hi 3 feet must follow thie right path. Ho stumbled and found hinuself up tol his knees in water, it gulled romildl him. Feeling about him cautkwsly, he found] he was in a .large hole ; with some trouble he Taiscd hiuns«]f out- of it, but the gpamtk felt rotten and marshy, as though it would! give way beneath him. With a sud'deox shaver, h.e renrGlnberedl this was the high tidte, remeiribered,. t-oo,i how, a few years ago, the meadow nearest' tlie tow-patih had, bscm connp'letely flwoided!. Surely he had not yet liea^ihed at, ihe musti still be in thie field close to Eshain. He quickly pulled himself together; ho must make for tbe tirer.

Ha listened ; but even ill he were lue-mrl ib, the wa,tor did nob giv« out a sound. Strain his eyes ah he would, h» coulid not! picroe t«he thick •white mist. Ho traced every step before he set hiia foot firmly down ; yet even vrith this caution he plunged into several holes. He remembered that in t!hese meadiows there ■were no tussocks ctf rush stctais t as there 1 were nearer Mamningtree. Alick again looked carefully round him. Only the same opaque whiteness, so close that/ it elung 1 to his eyelashes, nothing could be seen. He stooped almost to th« ground, there> was a faint glimmer to the loft; it seemed to him tihis must be t!he river. He turned towaids it. Once safe* on the tow-path, he felt sure ho could guide himself, by feeling from one to another of the willow- trunks. If he could but readb it. The mist had wetted him to the skin, his clothes wene soaked and? heavy, but he was neither alarmed nc-r discouraged. He had tried to follow God's will in his daily life, and that sure trust helped him now. He felt, too,- a warm glow of hope, Ms future life lay plain before Mm ; if he could keep Ms post he would) bo justified in taking a wife. Once moire ho plodded ori through the mist. Sinoe Tilly cam© in from the. boat she> had been very silent. Mrs Knight had looked que-staoningly at her, bub the girl seiemed absorbed in 'her darning ; tOi© increasing mist made the widow too anxious to wish for talk. The little clock in the parlour struck seven. As the strikiirjjr ceased, Mrs Knight turned her wMte, drawn face to the girl. " tte Merer comes as late as this, even if he's coming by the road he'd be homo by noiw." Tilly started. The widow's voice broke in on "a rose-coloured vision — she saw herself mistress of her own cottage, and she tried nt first* to bring Mr Wace into it ; somehow he did not fit with the rest. She had been really happy in hor dream, iti had so effectually banished the thought of Alick. She at this abrupt reminder of him. " Could lw be back by now, godmother?" A guilty colour flushed her face. She had not given Alick his mother's warning. A tap at the outer door, tihe latch was lilted, a ■ said in the languid dtawl they both recognised : — " So sorry to trouble you, my pipe's gone out: could" you oblige me with a light?" "Please "come in, Mr Wace;" the widow's voice was that of a woman in e&ruost. He obeyed with a careless bow and smile. While Tilly lit a candle, Mrs Knight went on: — "We are anxious about my son, Alick ; he is late, even if he came by the r*oad. Is the mist very thick Esham viay?' ' He did flot^ answer, he. -was busy lighting his pipe. ■ " "I wouldn't bother about Ihim; he's as snug as he can be in the Red Lion parlour." Then to Tilly : " Thanks awfully, toy matches, confound 'em, wouMn't strike in the mist. How cosy you are in> ihetfe," he looked covetously at Alick's chair, set ready in the corner by the rawly-kindled fixe. , Widow Knight's eyes sparkled. . ' "My son's not likely to be at the Red Lion, sir ; he don't spend his evenajgs that way, thank God." " All rigiht ! Well, I'll wish .you good evening; tlhank you, Miss Tilly," To the girl's surprise^ he held' out his hand; she put hers in it, sayjn.g: — "Couldn't you go to the bridge, Mr Wace, and call out loud), that would help Alick to find bis way ?° ' ' Wace looked straight in the eyes, apid said in a low voice : — • I "I'll do anything in reason to please you, Tilly, you know I "would." Tilly pulled her hand roughly away. " I'll light the lantern in am instamt, if you hold that up, and call a* loud 1 as you can,, ifc must help him;" she hurried out to* find! the lantern, and Wace followed liar iabd j the front room 1 . "Mrs Knight won't believe, but yon may' depend l Kmight is safe at the Red Lion ; go* back to the fire, Tilly, and keep yourself! out. of the mist. I'll see you to-morrow." Tilly had lighted the lantern, . she fnjow stood! at the open eniferance door. " You won't do it?" 'she held the lantoeim) ' towards him. He laughed and patted her hand 1 . "What's the good, it would bei v foHy; ; fc!her«e r good-night, I'll shut the door." ; He closed it behind him; he ha<s meant* to kiss Tilly, but the fierce light in heri eyes stopped him ; this, ill© told JiimseH as j he went h«me to. .the mill, was not a> wise j moment for love-making. . j Tilly reached down a cloak with a hood ■ that' hung near the- door; then, lantern an ! hand, she slipped softly out, and made her way to the bridge. The air was stilled and the light burned steadily, "but as she looked towards Esham, the mist seemed thicker than it was on the bridge : it might be possible that the light would not show ..through it. Tilly knew that there was no Time to lose. "Alick, Alick," she cried, and set her lantern on the ground 1 , while she fastened her cloak and hood securely ; raising the light she stepped forward, till eh© reached the tow-path. She plunged j into a pool of cold water, and shivered j with the shock, but it only served to brace her energy. ! She went bravely on t always in water, for the river had risen considerably, and the meadows of the Esbam side were flooded ; she had no sense of fear ; her mind was concentrated on listening. She again stqod still, and called, "Alick, Alick," as loud as she could, holding the lantern high above her head. Her voice was choked by the mist ; there was not the slightest sound in answer. She hurried on again, bub this was now difficult ; her fikirts dripped witb water, and clung round her ; she tried to guide* herself by feeling for the willow trunks, /but a sudden distance had com© between them. Where had they gone? Ab— A "wild shriek of terror burst from her ; her right foot slipped; she lost her balance and fell. Mrs Knight sat beside her fire waiting. It puzzled her that the girl should) have gone out with younje Wace, but she decided that Tilly would persuade ncr companion to look for Alick. The idea that something was being done to help him soothed the widow* anxiety, and she presently fell Jnto a doze. It was hardly sleep ; she quickly roused up at a dull muffled sound in the outer room; then Alick's voice: "You're all right, dear, now, aren't you?" ' • Mrs Knight opened the door ; there stood Alick. Instead of looking at his mother, his eyes were fixed on Tilly's white face; she leaned "back and shivered in the chair in which he ihad placed her. "Carry 'her to the'firei boy.!' When" he" had placed Tilly in his own big armchair, the widow put her arms round her boy's neck and! hugged him, with a devout " God 'be thanked." The warmth soon revived the half unconscious Tilly ; at the sight of Mrs Knight bustling about she rose to 'her feet, and cried out in protest. "There, there — " Mrs Knight sat down again. "What fa* happened? Did Mr Wace find Alickr Alick looked; mystified. Tilly shrugged her shoulders in high disdain. "He! godmother, no! Don't you know the difference between a man and a makebelieve? Alick didn't want anyone's help; he saved mo from drowning, that's all/ ' N Alick bent down and kissed 'her, and Tilly seemed to like it. "You mustn't believe all that dear girl cays, mother. Ib was she who savtd une ; I'd slipped into the river, when I heard my name called; then came a scream that fetched nitf to my feet. I was dizzy and stupid 'between the mist and the river, but the scream roused me up. I saw the lantern on the ground, and ther© wo a 7". illy as I thought dead on the river bank." Tilly's mouth puckered as though she longed to cry ; then she nestled up to Alick. He put his 'arms round her and she murmured : "I da love you, Alick, indeed I do, but I don't deserve you should lovn me." He kissed her very tenderly, again and again. " You can finish all that later, my boy,