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THE STORYTELLER.

THE EVICTING OF GRAINGER. (By HAROLD BLNDLOSS.) Author of "The Commodore's ~. Bracelet," etc. [All Rights Reserved.] It was a spring afternoon when ',., Grainger sailed tho Wyvern into a A , secluded Scottish bay and declared that ft was just the place to paint and refit M , her in. Sho was a twenty-four-ton cutter, and he lived on board throughout i, tho year, partly because ho liked it, ,',.', and also becauso his income was small, ■i. In winter he shot for tho market, in r ... summer ho took anybody who would charter him round the coast; and it ct'.. must bo admitted that his prosperous ; relatives (for the man was what is ,n called woll-connccted) regarded him ;,., and his doings with cold disfavour. He i.. had with him Stainton, an artist of , (i unconventional ideas, and paid-hand ."■Danny, a wild Ulsterman; and in such company the former expected adventures. i'.i Lonely brown moorlands rolled down [,, to the water, rent in one place by a •ir. deep green glen, out of which a river , ....flowed. Its mouth was lined—abovo high-water mark—with clean white vshingle, and when Grainger warped tho ••/Wyvern into it his satisfaction was'only >b-tempered by tho sight of an old grey "!,:, house of imposing appearance standing i among the trees. He had had some '.i trouble with landed proprietors in various parts of Britain, but that fact in'did' not deter him, because, taking j' things all round, he had generally manu* aged to hold his own. ;,. He laid the boat upon the beach, £. carried out his moorings, and then '.,,. paused to look round. The old house was plain in view now across an aero • c or two of lawn!, and the drive to it ,-, led out into a narrow road beside tho water's edge. The gates were unusually _. handsome—-the iron grille of chaste de- ,_■ Sign; the tall and rather slender stone Eillars deeply.fluted and surmounted by r oraldie beasts. Stainton thought they ,must have cost a good deal of'money. "It's a pity that house couldn't he removed," Grainger remarked. "Still, '•"■' tho folks who live in it mayn't raiso 1 »ny unnecessary difficulties, 'and we'll 'i.'get to-work." X-- ■ They carried everything out of the ■iv boat as the title ebbed and sot up an encampment on the ■ f aliingle, making a tent of a tarpaulin, :•,., ttnd erecting .a rusty stove and a big tar r boi)er in front of it. Thev further ,r, adorned the locality with mouldy blanklc,,ets, and salt-damp clothes lmne out on ■_; ropes to dry. By the time this was' iv,. finished the tide had run out, exposing banks of miro between the shingle and _ the river-bed, besides long oozy flats, g ,: across which several, rows of stout al )',poles and nets extended. It was evi- • ( dently a salmon fishery, and, so Dannv \', said, a remarkably weil-constructed one. ; r He sauntered inland to investigate by-and-by, and came back in great coii- (,'.' 'tent. '."rH. " "** s a £ rnn d sthream for the white trout, an' the meadows bevant the glen '"'just leppin' wid rabbits,"" ho began. t'n -^i 1 * Grainger checked him. "None or that!" he said, severely. "I want J' to keep the peace as long-as I'm '"■> able." Groups of smartly-dressed people had '/watched the proceedings, npparentlv with some disfavour, from the lawn. ?-• But nothing happened until next mornii mg, when Grainger, going for watrr i: to a neighbouring burn, met a young .+' lady desirous of crossing it. The stop,'y ping-stone?, wore slippery; there was a ; Kootl deal of. water com ins: down, and r,.,hq gallantly waded in, holding out hifi ;„,hand to her. i- "Thank you," she said, when she n ,.,was safo across. "Tn return, T'll give you a piece of "advice. It would be ... wiser to take your boat away as soon you can." ? "Ah!" said Grainger, "I've been [" favoured with advice'of the kind be- ;■•;_ fore, but I _ haven't always taken it. '*'' May I_a.sk if you have anv wishes on ''"the point? Are you a daughter of the iT house?"

She laughed. " None whatever ; I'm .mi< merely the governess. Rut T think you 7,/" had better do as T tell you." " r "' : „ "J' m wry we can't agree." said b»i-> Grainger. " Tin's is a particularly snit'•c; 1 able nla.ee to refit my boat in." t ' "Mr Finlay is under a different im(.1.1 prersion. ' she said as she moved away. 7r: . Grainger turned to Stainton. who had ,;. |BI accompanied him. "Smart," he refill; r.V'k'v 1, '' n,lfl remarkably prettv. T ~,.,,1ike the direct way she looks at one." "Nobody could en]] you Smart, and -ilu'J don't think s!<p'll reciprocate your r .j ~ favourable oninion. after that speech ' (r>rTt( ,nliout her wishes," rejoined Stainton. m,, -" Tt "truck me as gratuitous impertin- -,- ' ence."

I«i.r- Grainier, w\ho was then attired in t coot-stained trousers, ragged deck-shoes, Vm.ipd a " n'' l jersey with snlnslips of tar on ':' Mti> it, laughed. "Anv way." he said, "I'd ~'„', have cleared out if she'd asked rne to."

rfun. n ? v went 11D tn a *'"- v village hid'deu in the glen, later on, and Avere ,t, pf-it'ting in a rude inn when a red-faced ' . . gentleman of middl" arte and domineernnpeirance walked flown the street. r "T snnnose that's the owner of the "'."' house with th- eer>per-b: v turrets. He ■' t looks like it," Staint'm said. "Family „_ i has presumably b°en for ever." V" " Na," replied the Scottish innkeeper. • "Ho bought the estate, an' runs it, as r ";' he would tell ye, on strictly commercial lines, including the sa union fishery, '"which was always let. Yen's his pet r hobby." " Ho doesn't look genial," Grainger commented. ' . The Scot smiled sourly. "His grieve a is yaur than him. Ye'll nr>o doot bo hearing from yin o' them before lang." They beard nothing for <-:o;ne hours, " •' during which the smoke of the tarboiler rose- in a sootv cloud and drifted ■* '"across the lawn and the mouldy blnn- ""•"■ keta and garments flapped gaily in the """.'breeze. Then a grim", hard-featured "■■>'■-■ Scot approached ike camp, which he ' Tf, ,' v ' regarded with obvious dh-favaur, ■"■■■ Grainger watched him with his paintK "". stained hands on his hips, iinui. "Estn.to-stown.rd person," he remarkc'- ed. " Hrs appearaece is against him. -oni Doesn't strike one as amiable. I've ;-<'"• had to put up with this kind of thing . before." "■'-'■ "Mr Finlay desires ye to move your -"''; boat and camp forthivith, failing wliich, will bo tsdten to eject ye," the grieve began. »«to <iQ n udmt grounds?" Grainger *.. .asked. "".'•• Tlio man included the camp and its "i''Occupants with a wave of his hand. <..:.! Ye're a nuisance, and ye spoil the view from the lawn." ■ Itii' "In the first place," said Grainger, like to point out that the beach fiiit below high water, springs, belongs to ..- :*.-anybody. T'm here to paint my beat. h\> I'm doing no harm, end T would like to ;;,,.,'ask you as a sensible mar. what you fnr'fchir.k' of the matter?" .<■..;; '"' If my opinion's o' any value, I've B'-iii gipsies who'd be mair o' u credit ,'.,., to a gentleman's estate," was the sour - - - answer. y,,'i Grainger sighed. "Well, T':l sooner T '. have discussed the tiling good- ■■*<■('• humouredly, but you must tell your employer with my compliments that I'll -• ' clear out when I'm ready and not a T /..minute earlier." -,_' • "Then ye'll tak' the consequences," 'pri ■ said the grieve, as he withdrew. " . Dannv looked after him with a grin. •-.<• "Pure," he raid, "the laird's no wise, or lie would not he afthor sending mes- - -sages like that wan to Mr Grainger-- ,„"„, an' me." . • After this the work went on without -r "■"■■ interruption. The tar-boiler diffused ' its pnnnc'iit smoke, the three men were, busy with the brush, and paint and oil-

SHORT SERIAL.

drums Avero scattered about; but cloud's rolled up on tlio second evenixj, and it rained hard all night. It was still wet in tho nKrning; but Grainger set off for a Jittta tov:n to buy some bolts, and while Danny Avas given a task in tho boat's interior. Stainton went fishin;-;. Having been ineivilly warned off tho river, he followed a burn into tho moors, and returned, wet and hungry, amidst a thin drizji'e, as dusk was closing down, solacing himself with the thought of supper in tho tent. It war. almost dark when he approached the bead); but there was no cheerful fire to welcome hi in, nor any shin of the camp, and breaking into a run, ho stopped astonished on tho edge of tho desolato shingle. The ten had gone; tho boat now lay over on her ride with het deck nearly perpendicular in tho river-bed ; and a shadowy figure was groping about, apparently engaged in fishing things out of tho mud. It approached, miry and dripping, when Stainton hailed.

"What happened, Danny?" he inquired. " When I first came down it looked like a cyclone; but 'tis only Mr Finlay's notion tiv evicting us. Thim " Danny pointed to a pile of garments soaked in mire and sea-water —"is your and Mr Grainger's shore clothes, but wan av h's n<=w tea-boots is missing. Where tho blankets is I cannot tell, but I'm thinking they've gone out to sea." "What about - the rest of the things?" Stainton asked, hot with ancrer. '' Tho stove has n crack across her middla ye could nut two fingers in," said Danny. " Tho throuble I had in saving her 1 But they needn't have been throwing your portmanteau up against the tarpot, an' thim little pictures is splathered all over."

This was toe* much, and Stainton expressed his opinion of Finlay with fluency, while Danny grinned in appreciation. Then tho latter said, ik a coaxing manner, "Ye wouldn't bo,having half-a-crown ye could spare—-to buy provisions wid? Thim we brought is spoilt." Stainton gave him one, though ho did not think it would be expended on anything to eat, and he was angry with the man for deserting his post, which had permitted Finlay to make a olean sweep of the camp; then ho sat down to Avail for Grainger, and Danny disappeared. It Avas some time before the skipper arrived, and he listened to Sralnton's tale rather quietly, Avhich was not a favourable sign. ••11m follow mentioned something about taking the consequences; it works both Avays." lie said at length. •' First of all, Ave'll go up to the village and try to get some more provisions. I think Ave'll sail to-night."

They met. Danny presently, carrying a very small loaf. " 'Tis all I could get," he explained, "this an' the morsel aA' butter that's in me hat."

Stainton pointed out that it was not much for half-a-croivn, and the man laughed. " TAvo-an'-six, is it? An' me conshnmed Avid indignation! Sure the things Avas given mo for love an' no money at all. Go on an', see how much either of .yea Avill get.'' Tt proved to hi remarkably little. The cno shopkeeper in the place refused outright to supply them; the landlord of tho inn declared the fire ivas out, and his AA'ife had gone visiting. It Avas clear that Finlay had laid them under an interdict, and they wero returning, after an unsatisfactory meal of oatcake and stony cheese, when the light from a AvindoAv fell upon a slender, shapely figure moving up the street. Grainger stopped, and the girl they had already mot came towards them..

"I'nv. sorry—they were laughing about "it at the house," she said. "But von wouldn't take advice!"

" No," said Grainger. "I suppose it wns amusing, from their point of view; but T'm not suro tliry'H- think it such n joko to-morrow. Anyway, I'm grateful for your sympathy.'' " I'd like to make it practical," replied tlio girl. " You really liave been rather badly used.'' " ViVIl got over it, though I don't think Finlay need have tried to starve us into the bargain. Someone acting by his orders scattered our provisions where-the tide spoilt them, and nobody seems willing to sell us anymore."

"Oh!" sho'said, "that's too bad. Now, I wonder— ■■ — If one of you went quietly round to the back of the shop in, say, five minutes, I think you would get anything you want." "No," said Grainger decidedly. "This is my quarrel, and I can't allow you to be drawn into it. It wouldn't be fair to take advantage of your generosity. Besides—well, since Finlay has declared open war and driven us to live on the country, he can't complain when we do so."

She left them after another word or two, and Grainger turned to Stainton. "If Mrs Finhy's like her husband, the girl has quite enough to bear; but you saw how considerate, and plucky she was." "I saw she didn't greet you exactly as a stranger," Stainton replied. "How often have you met her?"

" Only two or three times—by accident. But what has that to do with you?"

Stainton made no answer. Grainger was rather a handsome man, and he had a reckless, light-hearted air, which won him friends and often_ disarmed those iviio did not approve of him. " Well, said the latter by-and-by, " as that fellow has shifted my moorings to swing her oil the beach, we must find something to make fast to, and I expect his gates will serve the purpose. You see, the stream anchor is no use where it lies—it won't keep lior off the big stones higher up the channel —-and it's rather big to carry sixty yards or so through soft mud. The' liglit kodge wouldn't hold her in the strong scour on the Hood. I want you to observe that, ail this is Finlay's fault." They went on to the beach, where Grainger -called to Danny. " You had better go fishing and get us something to eat. Take the trammel."

" The net, is it?" said Danny. " Be<la<l, I'd get them quicker wid a knife." " You'd leave your mark behind yon that way," Grain;™!' 'replied. "Take the- trammel and bo off in the diiuihy as fen-on as there's water. We'll pick you up outside." Staiuton, who knew that it was seldom wise to provoke his companion or Danny unnecessarily, heard their remarks with some uneasiness. It is not permissible to lower a net in the immediate neighbourhood of a salmon fishery, but since he was not sure that Danny would use the trammel, that was not the worst. The lines of staked salmon-nets only led the fish along to a pocket strongly built of poles engirdled with mesh, from which they cannot get out; and the- reference to a knife was significant. They, however, waded off to the almost overturned boat, carrying as much of their property as had been recovered to her before the tide made; after which they sat in the well while she slowly righted. It was blowing moderately fresh, and a drizzly, dark night—not the one Stainton would have chosen to go fishincr in a tiny dinghy. The lights in the windows of the house- went out one by one; it grew cold and lonely, and the wail of the dark trees ashore broke through the gurgle of the- tide ar.d the roar of the surf on the shoals outside. Half-seen gulls and whirling plover flitted, screaming over the boat, which began to lift off the ground at Lint. Then Grainger got over the folding canvas punt. " She'll go up with a rush as soon as filie's clear afloat," he said. " I don't know if the ropes will hold her, but I'm going ashore with another warp in case it's necessary. If, she brings up you had better get the an-

chor—it won't be far off then; but you can set the staysail to help her up over the tide." Stainton had no desire to be left alone in a boat he could hardly manage ; but Grainger dropped into the punt, and disappeared into tho darkness. Ten minutes later the rush of flood tide against tho hows suddenly ceased, and the Wyvern drove away violently upstream. There was a crash in the gloom ashore when sho brought up with a creaking and groaning of hard-strained cables; but she only stopped for a moment, and then went on again slowly, as if she were trailing something after her. Stainton wondered what had happened, and how long Grainger would bo. By-and-by she brought up a second time, and remained, and after hoisting the staysail ho toiled savagely at tho winch to heave her up to her anchor. Eor some minutes hardly moved ; and then, for the tide seemed slackening and the breezo was blowing fresher right off the beach, she crept on very slowly, against the stream. Once over the anchor, she dragged it out in a stronger blast, and leaving, it at the bows, he sprang to the helm. Sho Ava3 heading out to sea, which was more than he had bargained for, dragging the warps Grainger had let go; and, afraid as he was of ramming her on the steep beach, he could only run on. Jumping below for a paraffin flare he held it up while the yellow flame blazed high into the darkness. There was no signal from Granger, but he at least secured some attention, for a light blinked in a window of the house; others followed before the flare went out, and almost immediately after this the boat stopped violently, and went on again, trailing something after her. Stainton supposed it to be a part ofFinlay's salmon net, which he had run foul of, and, dropping the staysail, he waited anxiously. There were a good many lights in the house now, and one of two more were moving about the grounds; but ho could discern nothing else ashore, except the loom of trees. To seaward, short, white-topped waves surged on into tho darkness, and the spray was beginning to fly. There was no sign of either canvas punt of dinghy. By-and-by a shout, which he was sincerely pleased to hear, reached him, and a dark patch became visible on the water.. Shortly afterwards the punt ran alongside, and Grainger swung himself on board.

" I always knew you had very little sense, but there lvas no occasion to firing the Avhole inlay clan doAvn to me," he said. "I'd some trouble to get aAvay from them, and they were launching the salmon-boat when I left. But we'll get some sail on her and look for Danny." They did it in a hurry, and Avhen sho was driving through the water, Stainton asked: "What Avas it that Avent ? I heard a bang." " Finlay's gates," said Grainger, chuckling. " She pulled one post up and dragged that handsome grillework some Avay along the beach. So far as I could see, it disintegrated—hut I didn't stop to survey the damage. That didn't seem judicious—l loosened our warps and left." A few minutes later a shout rang out ahead, and when they rounded up, the dinghy slid alongside. " 'Tis half-full she is, but 'tis not all av it wather," Danny announced. ■ "I think .you had better get forAvard and stow the anchor," Grainger remarked to Stainton. "What yau don't see you can't remember." Stainton remained forward as long as appeared advisable, and from the noise they made is Avas evident that the others were in tho meanwhile stoAving something under tho floorings of the well. When ho same aft to help in hauling the dinghy on deck, Grainger, looking round at a tossing light close.astern, said briefly, "We'll get out of this."

"Is it get out ?•' said Danny, in a reproachful tone. "Whin the omadaun has brought a light to show us where he is ? Now. if ye was to reach her up to windward, we could come down ramping full an' run over thim. Wid this breeze behind her. she would go slap through the boat." "No," said Grainger "It strikes me that Finlay will have cause enough to remember us as it is.' . They gave her the reefed mainsail, and the pursuing boat dropped astern ; but in another minute or two there was a heavy crash, and she stopped amidst a nest of massive poles that rose from the seething water. "The big-net pocket! She's in the middle av it!" Danny em'ed.

The trouble was that sir? seemed' likely to ■stay there, and while they hacked at the noles that bumped and ground against her side the light astern drew unpleasantly close. It did not appear desirable 'that Finlay and his retainers should overtake them.

i' Up topsail" shouted Grainger, breathless with exertion. " She ought to go through with the boom squared off."

Thcy set the sail in frantic hurry, and the boat, slanting over until her lee deck was deep in the brine, smashed off some noles and slowly sawed through the rest of the entanglement. When at last she broke clear there was a good deal of floating wood attached to torn netting tossing about the frothy streaked water; but that was Finlr.y's affair,, and her crow were satisfied to see her leave the light behind. "A fine pocket; must have cost him lashings av money," Danny remarked, ""lis" lucky it wasn't quite strong enough for catching yachts in." " We'll have the topsail down, and you'll get supper Grainger answered. " That oatcake wasn't ratisfying." 15y the time they were clear at sea the' iik'al was on ili? table. It crmeisied of tlm shoulder of a beautiful rrd-fleshcd f<.-\ and Danny, who took the he].n from the skipper, said to bun, " Cousidlri'i'ig the K-:ucn, it's shillings ye'll be eatieg." They rcn into an Enelish pert late next day, and Danny, who went ".shove, came back beaming with ssti-.lactio.u. "'Two an'-'-ix a pound." he said. " Now, although ye promised " Grainger chocked him. "There'!.! he no boat-share claimed in this case; the promisa stands." Me turned to Stainton. " It's an interesting town ; wouldn't you like a walk aslure?" Stainton, who could take a hint, got Danny to row him to the quay, cud asked no questions when ho saw a big fish-box on the steps After all, it might not have been intruded for anything on board the Y> T yvevn. They had no further alventures of moment, but the night before the cruise ended Grainger said, " If ye.u'el ca-.-c for another trip up north, you can come with me when the chartering reason's over. I'm going to call at that bay again." " And bravo Finlay?" "If it's nc-cpfisary, I'll brave the whole clan. He'll do nothing in the meanwhile, for several reasons. O.i the whole, I think we stand even." Stainton made no comment; but he admitted to himself that the girl they had met had a musir-al voice and a pretty fr.ee. He thought that if Grainger at anv time decided to make his homo ashore- she might ho the reason for his doing so. In this he was correct; but it was some time before the fact became apparent when Grainger started a yacht-agency and designer's business.

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Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/TS19120323.2.10

Bibliographic details

Star (Christchurch), Issue 10418, 23 March 1912, Page 2

Word Count
3,811

THE STORYTELLER. Star (Christchurch), Issue 10418, 23 March 1912, Page 2

THE STORYTELLER. Star (Christchurch), Issue 10418, 23 March 1912, Page 2