CHAPTER III.

Tuapeka Times, Volume XXIV, Issue 1870, 13 February 1892, Page 1 (Supplement)

CHAPTER 111.

" Oil, who shall guage the limit of knowledge?" he cried. "Who shall say that knowledge is not power ? Let me think. Old De Roal taught me to test myself after this fishion. Ho told me that Mosmer discovered a terrible force in nature, but durst not use it for fc-ar of the dungenn and the rack. My old tutor knew as much as Mcsmer, yet was fearless No dread of stake or gibbet could deter him. lam his pupil— l, who have pitted myself agair.se odds all my life. In every vein and fibre of my being I feel the strong current of this all-power-ful electricity of vigorous life. Before I was a man De Roal revealed to me my strength. Well, I will husband it and use it as I please. Soft ! Wake not yet, sweet Maori maid !" he murmured hurriedly. "I am thy victor, but will not use a conqueror's license to thy shame. To me thou shalt be an oracle— the hiyh pr.estessof my mesmerbm, How beautiful she is ! Were it not that lam a — what matter it what I am ? Love is blind. If it be, so be it. Hist !" He paused abruptly in his soliloquy, stole noiselessly to the door, and opened it suddenly, but there was no one there. " What a fool I am," he murmured, closing the door suddenly. Now let me to the trial. "Speak, Te Cora, if thou canst.*'

"lam at your pleasure," came in faint tones from the voice of the sleeper.

"- Can trance produce visions ?" he cried with a flush on his dark face.

" Even so. What would you V she replied in plainer accents.

The mesruerUt stood over her in silence a moment as if in thought, then answered, —

" I would fain know what is before your survey, Te Cora."

The pallid lips of the Maori writhed for utterance, but no sound came therefrom.

"What see you?' he exclaimed. " Speak !'

•" I see a long, lonely, winding road on the border of the sea coast," she anawered quietly. "Ttieroad leads into a gloomy valley where men are at work hewing out large blocks of stone. Beyond the valley I behold a dark, looming building, ringed in by a high wall, and which looks like a huge prison. There are several parties of men in strange costumes moving here and there. Each party are chained like oxen, and their dress is one uniform color of blue and grey, and marked with an arrow. One party of twelve drag a heavy cait loaded with stone round a bend of lonely roadway. On either side of these are two other men who are not. chained, and wear dark uniforms, and are armed. Suddeuly the gang stop, and with one accord rush upon the armed guard, whom they overppwer in a moment. The onslaught is so unexpected that no defence is offered, save and except that one of the guns go off in the scuffle, thus giving a signal of alarm. In. a moment tlie gang of chained men are free. The iron shackles about their limbs are rent asunder. Seven of the twelve are recaptured and chained together again, but tho other live flee and disappear."

"G an you describe any of these that have escapi d ?"

" Yes. The one who led them appeared like unto yourself, Ililton Fernbrook." "I?" " You !" she answered quickly. '* Did I not know thar you were here, my master, then would 1 say thou art he." * "Well said, O prophetess! Had this felon my hair, my gait, my moustache? — Come, no quibling, Titi." "This mac has no moustache ; but the face, the torin, the walk are nil tho same. I know them from a million, degraded even as they seem.' 1

" Good, my young Toho," he answered, with a strange smile. "Let that vision pass. "' What seest thou now ?" " Nothing." "Truly, you could not see less than nothing," he cried. '' Try again."

"I behold a picture like ihe sea," she said, alter a pause And lo ! there is a ship -a small ship with two masts, from which the idle siu\s hang loosely down. There is no wind, and the sea and sky are like molten fire see.n through a mist. On

the d< ck, thtj crew are reeling here and thorv in drunkenness and uttering terrible binspiiemy. The liquor and the blazing sun had made them mad. Everywhere there appears disorder and wild debauchery. Look ! Ev.-n while they sing and dance in their wild orgie, a broad flame shoots forth from the ship's hoM. She. is on fire I One of the crew, more i insane than the rest, has set; the. vessel in I flames ! How it roars, and whistles, and gleams in power 1 One by one it licks up 1 the reeling forms of the crew with its red I hot tongues, until th re are but two left Ito battle with it. Tais pair fight the J angry element; with cool courage and

patience. But it is in vain they fight. Nothing can save the doomed ship. Their only hope is in one small boat, which the flames have not yet reached. They lower thia on the darkened ocean, enter it 3 and push off from the burning mass."

" You can see the faces of this pair ?"

" Clearly. One is a little man, thin visaged, but bold looking and resolute." '•Young or old?" "Young."

'• And the other ?"

"The same man who led the five prison breakers into the bush," answered Te Coro.

"Can you discern the name of the burning vessel?" asks the mesmerist in a low tone.

" Yes, vividly. It is the Seagull."

" Enough !" he crie3, with sudden energy. Then seating himself at the piano, begins to play a grand march in fullest tone.

By-and-bye, Te Coro moves, sighs, rubs her eyes, and gazes about her with a bewildered look.

"I fear I have been, asleep," sho say 3 in an apologetic tone, looking towards the player. "Asleep, Te Coro ? Come, that is not very nattering to your humble servant," he answered without turning.

"I confess it is not," she adds, with a little laugh, and at the same time rising to go. " Thank you very much for your music. It has made mo quite drowsy."

The Maori retires with a graceful bend of her head, and closes the door softly behind her. Out on the main corridor stands old Rita the nurse.

" Come with me to my room, child ; I have something to say to you." she says, as she leads the girl away.