LOVE "THE OUTCAST.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 9674, 16 October 1909, Page 2

LOVE "THE OUTCAST.

\ V (By ERNEST TREETON.) „.:■, of "The Instigator," "The V' " New Jack Shepp'ard," etc; *-/*", [Arx Rights Reserved.] '<*;^-V V CHAPTER I. •fAntl why won't you, Mildred?" ■i ' "Because—oh, • I don't know! I ■4 oafi'tr ■ ■ .' - V.The questioner* was a man; the answerer was a woman. Though shja had seen her twentieth.summer, she was , stuT as'fair.~.and as flowerlike as the girlhood of sweet seventeen. The man with whom she was standing on the f;arden lawn of. Myrtlebiigy Rectory was »ir too, sfelwart, easy, graceful in ■ pose, and handsome—a,, soldier, it was plain, in eye'ry..air and "motion. Al-! though all Myrtlebury knew her as Mildreid Rashleigh, the only daughter of the Hon and Rev Sydney Rashleigh, .Rector of Myrtlebury, there^was< not a . soul, who had ever seen such a light in "C> hot',.eyes as shone there now. Richard Wellingham looked silently atr her for some moments before he tpoke again. .:"■' - v " Should Ibe here now;" he asked, •;: Vif I had not seen-the light that no man can misunderstand in youT eyes? What does this * change mean? You ' must tell me, Milly." , Mildred, remained[silent.■', , " I came over this afternoon, feeling » light-hearted as a boy^ to ask you for an answer which I felt sure of getting. . And now all you tell me is, 'I tajrti'' ilYet if I had asked you a week ago you would"not have (said that, {on vwould; have known, that you would be my wife. Why do you say ' No } now, . Ifilly"* I ought to know." - ■'■■ "^W^at ri^t haye^ybu.to. say that?'*, me asked, a little desperately, at last. " "■'r" The right of a man'whom you have, taoght tolove' you." he replied, look,kg at 'her 'StraigHtly. "Ah! I think JFlinderetand," he Went oosn s with a touch of bitterness in hi* tone. "It *as just the butterfly brightness of the passing'hour. Your little Myrtlebury was quiet, it made' more sunshine dance/in your eyes when I—some of A./ija^ame over from Nbrborbugli with our'epirits high. Yes, I see. That's how it was. And I am not rich —and • I've only a captain's pay— ——" Wellarigham paused. There was an expression in. her face which told him that, even if she had been a coquetto, . ihere had been some detjth to her pastimei.- He was poor, but , that'was not the pnl^ thing that in- ( -jliienoed her. Nor'was, it mere fickle- ■ b«»s or. There was some other • force swaying!her. Of,a sudden, His thoughts beoame heavy and dark-. In a flash of inspiration he thought of Noil Blackmore, Ms commanding officer, still ginglor like'himself.^ He-had seen, an oininbus glance askance in Blackmore s •ye, when he and Mildred had been apart together., . , ..» , • "Oh. wis riot only that!" she mur- - mured, cbtfjatrainedly: " I .did not tnow —l did: iiot tnioik so much of that pf your being only a little better off ttan, your pay;l mean.; Tliere are - ibtheir things——"- . . . Mildied stopped, almost in a break- ' down, as if she had been carried away into words'which would have been better left unspoken. , ■*'• Give a dog a bad name—you know the reat, Milly/' he said, bitterly. •'Hto anyone been giving me —a char- -"- Onbe Wore Mildred was silent. She aouid not answer. >7 f<f v understand," he said again., *'Xbu qughit to tell ;me, Mildred; but if you:: have not the; courage," he add- . W" chivalrously, "you need not. One fcl'tlwwaays, perhaps, you may;kHOWi What 'regret mean*; for me—l care Hot what happens now-^what I do or wnerel-gb. Jlou have said No.' Well, as you have given, me the Wow, 111 . c?trv H. % But I will take the, last right •I my love for you-r—" £ it Was ail the impulse of a. moment. Before she^'knew what be intended} he had caught her in his arms, and .was kissing nor with his first and last kiss. ' So strong was' the crush of his embrace, that? Mildred f,elt weak and faint,-for a moment lost. . , v. • Then came the end. He had releas«d her. In the midst of the suddenness •he was dazed, almost stunned. _ But ■he loved him, and something like a bursb of light broke in upon her. She liretched out her arms after mm. ... Dick!" ■ ,A But- it > was too late. Her broken, muffled call did not reach his ear. Already be was hidden by the clipped hedge of the t»nnis-cburt, and was : quitting the Rectory grounds by way pi the oarriage-drive into the village ';' road.- ■..*■■• v* • ■■"'■■ ■• . "Hewill come back," she murmured io herself. "A drinker, a waster, and » gambler; too fond of gay.life, and too w fiee and loose in his respect for women. That's what Blackmore told father. But evjen if he is, I might have saved jiim. He must come back." Modred said the saa»e thing to her-•elf-the next day, and the next. Wellioghajvr. did not come. Instead, a •; iiieek'passed. Then ehe heard that he "fciißid sent his papers to the War Office, '■"It; had aK>lieja to be exchanged into another cavalry regiment—rumour was a little uncertain'. 1 as to which course he had taken. Bitter and we^ry though her thoughts weits they were nothing compared with •* thenorror- of the iyag^iy that came a c few days later. Neil Blackmore had keen found dead at the foot of the cliffs : tnwhich ShorelingCamp stood at-Nor-- ••' 'borough. . And Richard Wellingham .■-: wws ;an absentee. While his papers l W«r» still in#the War Office he had ' ||narrelled wit^i his Colonel, and had . fptaliated to a contemptuous taunt vita a blow. .By Blackmore he had • foen told to consider himself under artiwt; he had given his parole, but had |fcp9kenit. All that was known afterviioa wu that on the evening when broke his parole by pass--■■fig the .bounds of the camp he was seen ■4 a distance, going towards the cliffketd. Blackmore had passed that way & little while before. On his own tiatiye, the second in command sent •n escort to bring the prisoner back to •uarters; but. the men met him returning, loosing pale, disordered andmoros».< The next morning the Colonel's body was ' found ■> b,y the waves, and (Wellingham was gone, from the camp. And the suspicion was .that Wellingliam was the slayer, a fugitive from his fellow-men, with the brand of Cain on bis brow. "Merciful Heaven! Have I been the . •ause.o'f, all this? A woman again!" Mildred wondered.' "This uTwhat comes of living a reck|n» life, I fear," said the rector, not unkindly. "Now you' can see how dangers may lurk where we little suspect, them. < I have- a suspicion that Wellingham must have spoken to you. If he did, and you told him ' No,? you ■ill 'See now that you were wise." * -Then all Mildred's loyalty and devotion surged up in her. " perhaps some •f the poison spoken about him has kept' in your mind, father," dhe said proudly. " But if you think he is guil- , |y of that sin, I say—No!" ■ But, all the same, she wept as if her feftart would break.