CHAPTER III.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 8672, 12 July 1906, Page 4

CHAPTER 111.

Love is an amazingly ingenious reilow, and in the invention of excuses his versatility is unrivalled. Under the most discouraging circumstances he can discover one, two — ay, even half a score, of reasons why a man shall seek the presence of a maid ; and, presto, the thing is done. In this we have .the explanation of John Massicks's visit to the home of Barbara Braithwaite on the night of the great storm. Returning from a round of his own sheep-fold 6, Massicks found his mind dwelling on the maiden of Langside farm. Then arose the fdesire to see her face, and clasp her hand; and, after that, a questioning as to the safety of the Langside v sheep. Barbara had been alone when he called. It might be that her father had been delayed, that His few sheep had not yet been rounded up ; at any rate, he would go and offer his help. Verily, love is an ingenious fellow, and artful into the bargain. The | moment he entered the house, Massicks realised that something was amiss. " Why, whai>-7— ?'' ere he could complete the question, Mrs Braithwaite was declaring her fear. " Oh, John, Fee aore afraid for oor Tarbara. She's gane to late t'sheep, an' it mun be summat awfu' up yon ! ' " Gone to look for the sheep?" he repeated. . "Ay, Richard and Joppy and me's been to Gamniersby Market, an' on't way back we popped in to see oald Margaret Ritson, what's down wid t'eiatic; then when' we got- thro© t'Pass we cud see t'snaw comin' alarig, seah Richard and Joppy turned up ower t' fells efter tfsheep an' ah cum alang heame, an' fund this laal note fra' Barbara, tellin' as hoo she wer' flayt aboot t'sheep an' wer' takkm' Tyke to gang efter 'em." ''Where's her father?" Massicks inquired. "Oh, he"'s up yon wid Joppy yet, tending t'yowes (ewes)." "Ah, that espials \t all," Maseicks responded, with an assumption of confidence. '•' Barbara will have met them at the intake or. tho fold, and they'll ail be coming back together. I'll slip up the fell, and walk back with them/ 3 After a few more words of reassurance! he left the house, but the moment he was out of sight a look of hard anxiety isettled upon his face, and if only Mre Braithwaite had seen it all his comforting words would have gone for naught. When he reached the fold, a single glance sufficed to double his dread, and the hateful thing laid its hands upon his heart-strings, and gave them an excruciating wrench. A few sentences made the situation clear to Barbara's father and his comrade, and the three men separated, but without clue or trail to aid them in their search. The only fact that favoured them was a perceptible decline in the storm's virulence, and when, at the end of a long climb, Massicks found himself under the bluff at Hanging Scar, he realised that, though ihe fangs of the wind were still unblunted,. the snowfall had ceased, and in tho first faint twinkling of the reappearing stars he read a hope-inspir-ing message. His back to the rock, the man peered yearningly out over the land, but j to the uttermost bound all was white and white again. Then he raised his hands to his lips, and his voice ranged over the moors and swept into the nooks and crannies of the rocks: — " Barbara I Barbara.! Barbara 1" " Barbara ! Barbara ! Barbara !" Mockingly the hills threw back his own words in his own voice; and then away to the left another voice took up the call, and he learned that Richard Braithwaite was still searching in the .iark clefts of Nep.Ghyll. A muttered prayer that his feet might be led along the right path, and Massicks sallied forth once more; intending to work across to the upper side of the Ghyll. ' Barbara must have gone in that direction ; it was preposterous to dream of hei-, forcing her way against such a hurricane on the other track. What a fool lie had been ; how he had misjudged her! This was the girl with the town manners, this the girl to whom he had feared to offer the life of the farm. Again, what a fool he had been ! But hark, what' was that? The man Rpun > round swiftly, his hand uolifted to his ear, and he bent toward , the wind, his rigid form sharply silhouetted against the wan background. Again the sound wa6 borne down upon the

wind, and with strong, manful strides he started back on the old track. " I wonder if that's Tyke," he said, " but whether or not it's no ordinary dog talk. Where can it be?" Ever as ho advanced he sent hie voice swinging stridently along the shelving hillside: "Barbara! Barbara!" and always with the answering echo there was mingled the lusty baying of the collie. The dog is not so very far away now. Why does it not come to meet him? Where can it beP Surely — the man reels beneath the shock of +he mental suggestion — surely not out there! oh % God; surely not on Granton Edge! Before his eyes there flashes a new picture — a girlish form and face, a fourfootpath, a precipice! On he goes, a few hundred yards and the hateful suggestion has ripened into appalling conviction. Now his feet are on the brink; a dark form wriggles toward him ; the dog licks his hand. Oh, Tyke, Tyke, is this all? Have you nothing else for a hungry heart; has it oome to this, years and years of love, and at the end only a caress from a dog's rasping tongue? Pa zed, rooted to the spot, the ma ft stands poised between earth and heaven, and loks at the animal, hope utterly extinguished. With a whine Tyke leaves him, and rune back to where the drift stretches across the ledge and dips its shoulder over the awful side. Now the dog is at Massicke' feet again, and again it is back at the drift, and this time it whines and yelps and paws with vigour at the mass. Ah, at last he understands! Forgetful of the peril of hi 6 own progress, Ma.ssicks bounds forward, drope upon his knees, scoops away the snow, and here, on Granton Edge, the years of waiting have ended] Barbara Braithwait© is in her lover's arms. He has found her and for the moment that is enough. Then, as he holds her tightly clasped to his breast, the rapture of life is dulled by the dread of death ; he has found her, but how; found her — for what? It is Barbara herself from whom the answer comes. Even as he strains her in his embrace, she opens her eyes, softly even as an infant waking from slumber : and though the shadow of the mighty hills, the curtain of the night and the mark of the tempest is about them, he knows that once more she is looking into his face. "Is it — you, John?" she asks wonderingly. "Why — what is it — where* am IP" and then she adds : " Oh, I remember now— l wass-lookirig for — the 6heep." " And eh, my lassie," the man cries in a voice at once broken and exultant, "I've been loking for you, and I've found you; found you for ever, and I'll never let you go again !" Then he bent his head and kissed berj and after that he gathered her lightly in his big,, strong arms, foot by foot shuffled his way along the narrow path, and in triumph bore her down the mountain side, back to the dale, to home, and to love.