FOR THE SAKE OF GOLD.

Tuapeka Times, Volume XLIV, Issue 5961, 17 July 1912, Page 4

FOR THE SAKE OF GOLD.

(All Rights Reserved.)

A SENSATIONAL ROMANCE,

By tka Author of "Out of Darknee»," "A Day of Reckoning," Etc., Etc.

PART 5. Sybil laughed when she heard this, and soon after told her aunt that Qeftwas to go to the front as war correspondent to one of the London papers.

Later in the day Squire Basset heard the news, a nd an expression of grim satisfaction lighted his face, as he thought the lad had grit in him.

"He's worth a dozen of Philip. I wish that girl was safely married to some one else."

The next day Sybil wont downstairs, and was thankful that rhil did not dog her footsteps ; a nd in a day or two, taking advantage of this circumstance, she paid a visit ta Bridge House, where she was warmly welcomed by Mrs. Lucas and Joam, the doctor having told them *ow matters stood. Gradually sha b«gan to visit them once or twice a we«k, as she had done before Geff's quarrel with his father caused the squire to order her to keep clear of Joan. Now she was determined to take her own way.

It was seldom gh« met Jack Lucas, who, besides being very busy, die" not think it right to meet her in a clandestine manner. It was enough lor him that they understood each other, and the day she was of age ha resolved to marry her. If circumstances made it necessary, he wonid marry her sooner. One thing was certain—he did not mean to let her marry Philip Basset.

CHAPTER VII. PEGGY MARSH

The sun was shining brightly as Phil Basset walked leisurely along Red Path. He was going to see a iriand, who occupied a small shoot-rng-box about a couple of miles away, and the fine afternoon had tempted Phil to walk. As he was ■ot in a hurry he took his time. Presently h* saw a girl with a child m her arms standing a t a garden gate is front of the pretty little cottage. At the sight of her Phil's lace darkened, and it became still blacker when he saw her open the gate and come towards him. "What do you want?" he asked, as she paused close to a giant beech tree.

"I must speak to you about the child. Fathor's had rheumatic fever, and though he got his wages the the same, it's pinched us awfully, and the little one's delicate."

"Pity it doesn't die*," he said, in a harsh tone. "Oh, Phil, how can you say that, after all that's l>een ? The bairn's the one bit of comfort I've got, though folks do call it a disgrace," the said, pressing the child to her bosom. "Well, keep your comfort, then ; I don't want to stand wasting my time with >ou." "Oh, Phil, you didn't talk that way once, and for the sake of old times, even if you don't care for the child, give me .some money to get it lengthening things with. The doctor's told me to get it heaps of things, but I hadn't the money."

"Neither have I money to waste. it's a pity 't was ever born, and the best thing that could happen would b* for it to die," he said, angrily, "Oh, Phil, ami you promised so much ! I was to have a little cottage ot By own, and enough to keep me without soiling my hands. You were going to love me lor ever, and always be true to me," she answered, with a sob.

"You were a fool to believe me ; not that I think that yon did, only it suits you to sham you thought it was ail gospel ; but you knew well mough it was the way fellows talk."

" I know yon don't care for me now, but I Wrought you'd love the diild a bit." "Then you thought wrong. I'm Ursd of you, and it, too. If you'd any sense of decency you'd clear out of the neighbourhood." "I couldn't leave, father ; and, beetles, the child fastens my hands so that I sannot work."

"Give it an extra drop o! sleeping mgdlcine," he said, with a sneering laugh.

"Oh, Phil, don't talk that way ! Loo'? at the poor delicate little dear. She's just like you—a proper Basset," said the girl, holding the ehjld towaids him. " Confound it take the brat away '" he said, pushing both mother and child from him with such force that the child's head struck against the tree.

It all happened in an. instant. There was a loud, wailing cry from the infant, an exclamation of passionate indignation from the mother, and Phil strode onward, muttering : "Confound it, a fellow has to pay for his folly !" Meanwhile the girl had pressed the child to her, hoping to stil! its cries, as she ran towards the cottage and entered the kitchen, where a man was seated in an armchair near the fire.

""''">t.'s the matter, Peggy?" he as d as sh" came forward. "Hes pushed us out of the way,

and the bairn's head struck against a tree."

"Who pushed you ?" asked her fattier.

"Phil Basset. I wanted him to see how delicate the bairn looked. Then I tho- lit maybe he would give the few shillings he refused," she said, with a sob.

Curse him ! lie's been the ruin of you. and now he wants to kill his own child." said the man. Peggy took little notice of her father's words. She was trying to quiet the little one, but it was use-

i,i' i. . nt's wail continued. iin .(raid he's injured it," she said, niid.ng that the child continued io it. in spite of all she did. n red it ! Kh, that's all he's ioo for. I wish the Bassets had

n i■; -vt oot in Croftstone. I never ii ed ihe squire. Mr. (Jeoilrey's a gOvd o.;e, but then he takes after his mother—as nice a lady as ever stepi ed—and because he wanted to marry Miss Lucas the squire's turned him out. Now, the Croftstones were real gentry. My father worked for (hem. and so did I till Mr. Basset b.u.ht (he place. Then I had to serve him or starve. But it was a bad day when he came to the castle." And Ma sh, who was only just recovering from an illness, paused exhausted.

"Father, do you think if I laid the bairn in the cradle you could rock it? I must fetch'the doctor."

"Of course I could, lass; but if I were you, I'd try and get Sally Don's boy to fetch him. It's a long wav to Witton, and I don't know as I could keep her quiet." "I'll ask him to go," said Peggy; and having laid the child in the cot, which the placed beside her father, she put on her hat and set off at a run to Sally Don's cottage, which was about a quarter of a mile distant. "Bttt had atatMt reached it, wbe»

eh« saw a trap comhig qiickly towards her, and as it drew nearer sbs recognised Dr. Lucas. "If you please, sir," sba oeiledout, holding up her hand. He drew the rein, and bending down, said :

"Is your father worse, Peggy 1" "No, sir; it's the bairn." "I'm sorry the little one'B ill," ha said, kindly ; then looking at her anxious face, he added : "You shall ride home with wo- Hates, get down, yo» can keep up with the trap. I snail drive slowly." ,

The youthful groom got down, and Peggy climbed up, assisted by the doctor's hand ; then, as they drove slowly on, the girl told him what had happened. Dr. Lucas listened, and his face wore an expression of righteous indignation. He had Known I'hil Basset was a worthless scamp, but he had not believeo ho could act so brutally, and his bloood almost boiled at the thougnt of Ibis man daring to woo Sybil. "Very likely baby isn't much hurt," he said, in a comforting tone, as he helped Peggy to descend. Then he gave the reins to Bat< s. who came up at that moment,, and followed the girl into the cottage, where they were greeted by the infant's wail.

A short examination served to show him that it was a case of slight concussion of the brain, the child's head having struck the tree with some violence.

"Will the bairn die 1" Peggy asked, as he put it in his arms. "No, it will pull through, but I must send you something at once. Sally Don's boy will fetch the medicine ;" and giving up his intention of seeing his mother—he had been driving to Bridge House when Peggy met him—he drove back to town. A few days elapsed, then the child began slowly to recover ; but Dr. Lucas had grave doubts whether the brain Was not pwnianenlly injured. She had always been delicate, and now he feared she would grow up an idiot, but he was too tenderhearted to tell the mother that, and Peggy's heart rejoiced at the child's gradual recovery. "Peggy, my lass, there's a woman at the door," said her father, one afternoon, as she sot sewing and rocking the cradle with her foot. The girl rose and went to the door, where a dark-haired gipsy woman stood with a child in her arms.

"Will you give me a drink, for the love of Heaven ? The child's dying of thirst."

This appeal touched Peggy's heart. "Will you have mil'; or water for the bairn ?" she asked.

"Water : there's nothing like it to quench thirst." In another minute IVggy was back again with a mug of water, which she gave to the stranger, who lifted a thin shawl which hn.l hidden the child's face, a nd I'egt;. saw that it was covered with red spots.

"What ails it?" she asked, anxiously. "X don't know. Those spots came But this morning, and I'm hurrying into Witton to see a doctor. I stayed at Croftslone after the rest of my people had gone, thinking the child would be better if it could get a bit of rest, and the van was so noisy with the other children."

"Go away ! go away ! What il nay bairn should take the sickness !" Peggy exclaimed. "God grant it mayn't. I thought >-ou were a bit of n lass ; I didn't »now you were a mother," she said, as she handed the mug back and went down the garden path. Peggy watched until she was out Df sight ; then she ran to the gate and flung the mug to the other side of the lane, where it fell shattered to pieces. Going baek into the house, ihe told her father about the child, and he tried to reassure her. The next day Peggy saw that her child was worse, and in two or three days the doctor said .she had measles in a !>ad form. In spite of the most careful nursing it was soon evident the little one was doomed. Peggy's nearest neighbour, Mrs. Don, who came •ach day to help her, tried to perluade her that it was all for the best, but the poor girl turned a deaf ear.

"Peggy, my lass, she's goin?." said Mrs. .Don, as she noticed a change in the baby's face. "No, no ;" and the mother's face grew white as she watched it and saw a faint little struggle. Then ill was calm.

"The good Lord's taken her into His keeping. It's better so, my hiss," said the good woman ; while the girl's father watched with sullen face, as he thought of the trouble Phil Basset had Drought into his home.

"It isn't bettor to take my lamfo. Phil cast me off; she was my one bit of joy. Oh, my bairn ! my bairn !" and she pressed her lips to the child's.

"Come, Peggy, let me lay her in her cot," said the woman, as she gently took the child from her ; and is her arms fell empty to her side Peggy's mood changed. "Curse him ! curse him ! But for that blow she might have been alive to-day !" she exclaimed.

"Cod grant he may not die in his bed. the villain !" said her father, who was very bitter against rhil. At that moment It. I.ucas entered. He had heard what had passed, but he came quietly forward and looked it the dead child. Then he turned to Peggy, saying :

"She will never know what trouble is. In a little while you may be glad to think of (hat." His words touched a chord in Peggy's heart, and she burst into tears, at first violent ; then, as she became calmer, he whispered to the neighbour to persuade her to lie down and rest, and leaving the cottage, he seated himself in the gig and drove to Bridge House. On arriving there he at once sought his mother, who was in the draw-ing-room reading. Her face brightened at the sight of him. "I thought you were never coming," she said, greeting him affectionately. "I have been very busy, mother. I suppose you heard about Peggy Marsh—the girl Phil Basset went with—having a child ?" "Yes, it grieved me. She had always appeared such a good girl." "I believe she was until Phil led her astray. Now she's in sad trouble. Her child's dead, and she loved her devotedly." "Poor girl ! Would you like me to go and see if I can comfort her?" "Yes. But before you go T must tell you what happened prior to the child having the mtas'es ;" and I)r. Lucas related how Phil had pushed the mother and child from him, and the result. "How awful ! And to think that man dare ask Sybil to be his wife !" she said, angrily. "Mother, this affair has removed all my scruples. I would run away with Sybil to-morrow rather than leave her in that mans power ; but I hope Squire Basset will see the folly of trying to force her into luch a marriage." "Will there be an inquest on the child ?"

"No ; she was recovering from the sffects of the blow* when the measles set in. Of course, had she been fairly well at the time, her chance Df recovery would have been greater. Still, death is due to measles, a nd I shall give a certificate to that effect. Keally, it is a good thing the little one has gone, as "he would

have been an idiot ; but I did not tell the iiiotli.r so."

"Hush ! Joau and Sybil are coming up the garden," said his mother; and the doctor turned to greet his sweetheart.

CHAPTER VIII. "Just in time," said a seafaring man, as he seated himself in a thirdclass carriage and the porter banged the door after mm. Then there was a shrill whistle, and the northern express moved out of King's Cross.

"You'd a near shave of losing it," replied the only other occupant of the carriage, who also appeared to be a sailor, but in a better social position—he might have been a mate or a captain. "That it was. I'm not much used to this kind of travelling. I've lived most of my life on the ocean," replied the first speaker. "I guessed as naueh by the cut of your jib, and we're comrades in that. I was apprenticed when I was a lad of fourteen, and I've been afloat ever since—that's thirty-four years." "I reckon you'll be captain now 1"

"Yes ; and somehow I feel more at home on board ship than I do walking about a town. Still, I've taken a longer holiday this time than usual, as I want to look up two or three of my sisters and their young folks. You see, 1 never had chick or child of my own, and my wife died long ago."

"So did mine, but I've a lass as is well married to a blacksmith, and I'm going to see her. I've not been up to the mark lately, and she wants me to give up the sea and settle down with her." "It's not easy I'or a sailor to settle on land," replied the other, as he unfolded a newspaper. After glancing at its contents, he remarked : "This seems likeiy to be a stiff affair in South Africa."

"Yes ; them Boers will take some beating. It's strange I've been forty years going from port to port, and never but once have 1 been near Africa, and that was near twentyfive years ago, said the sailor. "I've been three or four tiroes ; but my first voyage to Cape Town was about twenty-fuiir odd years ago," said the man who had admitted he was a captain. "I sailed aboard a small trading vessel, the Sea Gull," said the sailor.

"Was the captain's name Basset?' asked the other.

"That it was. He was a big, muscular chap, as seemed made of

"Well, mate, it seems to me we ought to know each other. My name is Clarke." "Good Lord, I dp remember ! You were mate, and all on us liked you. Maybe you'll recollect my name — Ned Jones at your service." Captain Clarke laughed. "I thought your face put me in mind of some one, and I remember you now ; but you're looking a bit older, you know." "To be sure ; I'm close on sixty, and I've stood some pretty stiff gales, and it tells on a man same as a ship ;" then he leaned forward, His elbows resting on his knees, as he said, "Mayhap, captain, you know what's become of Captain Basset ?" "That I don't. I've often woniered whether he was dead, as he's not been in command of any vessel that I know of for many years." "Now, that's singular. I wonder if he acted fair ?" said Ned Jones, reflectively. "What do you mean ?"

"Well, captain, I'll tell you something I've never told anybody, though I've often Wondered if things bad been fair and square. You remember that passenger we had ?"

"The man who died on board ?" "The same. Well, just before he 3ied he sent for the captain, and as it happened I was doing some cleaning up close to the cabin in which the sick gentleman lay, and I heard aim tell Captain Basset as he'd diamonds worth a hundred thousand pounds on him, and the captain swore he'd deliver 'em safe to the man's wife. Do you think he did ?"

Captain Clarke hesitated, as he thought what a temptation it would be to a man like Basset, who had struck him as ambitious, and it was strange that from that voyage he bad never been heard of.

"I don't know ; but I will make it my business to see the man's widow. What was his name ?" "Lord bless me if I can recollect, though I heard him tell the captain the name of the place where his wife lived."

"That's awkward, as it's clean slipped my memory. However, between us we should be able to rake it up." Then, as the train stopped in Peterborough, Clarke rose, and, naving shook the old sailor's hand, he gave him a card on which he bad written a few lines.

" That address will find me any time during the next month. a line just to say if you have remembered, and let me know where to write to you." "All right, captain ;" and the two men who had so strangely crossed sach other's path parted. Early in the evening Ned Jones reached Witton, where he was met by his daughter and her husband, and on arriving at their house he partook of a hearty meal, after which they spent a pleasant evening, the old sailor spinning yarns about his adventures ; but though various captains were mentioned, the name of Basset was never alluded to, and Jones little thought his old captain resided in the neighbourhood.

The next day Jones was taken ill, and before night seemed so feverish that his daughter suggested they should send for Dr. Maples.

An hour later Dr. Lucas arrived, explaining that his partner, who usually attended them, was at a ;-a.se which he could not leave ; so Sally Burns took the doctor to see her father, and did not mention that he was not Dr. Maples.

It was a grave case. Jones had in some way come in contact with typhus fever, and the long, tiring journey he had taken helped it to develop rapidly. Dr. Lucas suggested that it would be well if he could he isolated ; but there was not a hospital in the town, so they had to make the best of it. After consulting with his partner, who had one or two critical cases on hand, it was decided that Dr. Lucas should continue to attend the fever-stricken man. Accordingly, early the next morning he visited him, and found him in a state of high fever, though quite sensible; but as the doctor approached the bedside he regarded him with some consternation.

"Well, how are you '!" the former asked, in a kindly tone. "Bad, mortal bad ; the fever's got a grip on me. I s'pose I'm in my rignt mind ?" he asked, looking from the doctor to his daughter. "To be sure you are, father," she said, quickly. "What made you doubt it ?" asked Dr. Lucas.

"Because, sir, you're the image of a gentleman as died aboard a ship I was on, and was buried at sea." "What was his name ?" Lucas asked, quickly, wondering if at last he was going to hear something ol Us missing father. (To be Coattnusd-i

The New South Wales Totalisator Commission has presented a majonty report against tho totalisator on the ground that it tends to increase gambling, and affords undesirable Saciiities lor betting among women and others who at present refrain from gambling. Ihe minority report favours tho machine.

" Coaguline," " iiluax/' " Tenasi tine," cements for breakages, manufacturing purposes, &c, Guards, by night and day are watching tho tomb of the late Jonn Jacob lAstor, one ot the Titanic victims. The relatives decline to state the cause, but it is believed that tliey fear its desecration by the lamily's enemies.

'• Linseed Compound " Trade Mark ol ivay a Compound Lssence ol Linseed lor coughs and colds. "An Aboimauable tradition," is the heading that tile Hospital yi*es to the following interesting piuajjiapu : —"The early Victorian tradition that ' plain ' puddings a re wholesome lias probably, ruined, more careers than drink, iliow can a young Dram wrestle with arithmetic while the stomach struggles with suoi pudding '! As a, rule children 01 all ages dislike fat and liko sugaiv uiings. There is no physiological reason known for this preference. It exists. Why should it not be recognised and indulged ? .Nature dotw not e phy; Biological cravings without suilioicnt cause."

For influenza take Woods' Great Peppermint Cure. Never fails, la 6d, ite 6d.

Mrs Helen Phelps Dodge, the wife of Mr Walter Phelps Dodge, the millionaire author and lawyer, has been ' granted a divorce, on the ground of cruelty, the London Expross says. The real trouble according to the newspapers, has been visits from the ghost of otto of Mr Dodge's wives while Ihe couple were living at Maidenhead, on tho Thames, , a fter their honeymoon. Mrs Dodge asserted that her husband: 'began to see the spirit of his former wife, Ethel, whenever she wore anything that had belonged to this wife. The husband would tremble and say : " Ethel is angry. You must not. wear that; give it to me." 'After many ghostly visits, Mrs Dodge was so frightened that she returned to America. Mrs Dodge is the daughter of Mr Steck, a former millionaire coalminer in Pennsylvania. She left her home three years ago in order to go oii the stage, and married Mr Dodge after two months' acquaintance, when she was 18 and be was 46.

" Linseed (Compound " for coughs and oolde. Loosens phlegm, allays irritation.