A Tardy Wooing.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXVIX, Issue 8115, 9 April 1906, Page 2

A Tardy Wooing.

CHAPTER ll.—Continued. ■ 1 £ "You're to sleep here to-night," t said Becoa. shaking her coarse, black t bair-oat of her eyes, "I've been and cleared a corner for you, and moßt ( smothered myself with dust." t "Why cannot 1 sloop in mv own j bad as usual?" queried Winnie. ( "Because yon can't!" Ask no ( questions and you'll boar no lies." f "But you might tell mo, Becca. i why lata turned out of ray room. It's suoh a very small one, it can't , be of much use to anyone but me." s "'Twasn't of much use to you, „ was it? You only slept in it, and j lorßt if you're as tired as I am, you j dan do that anywhere!" 8 And Becca raised her arms above t her head and yawned loudly. * "When may 1 go back to it?" fc asked patient Wynnie; she had a meekly accepted the uupleasant al- 0 •teration, and was sitting ou a box, j, andressin'R the sleeping child. e "That'll depend on circumstances, j. You ain't to know nothing, then you can't tell nothing!" c "I suppose 1 may fetch my things when I've laid babv down?" h "You's be puzzled to, seeing the VJ door's looked, and the key in Mother Marby's pocket," said Becoa, as she a walked away, carrying the lantern 0 with her. , So close, so, stuffy 'was the atmos- s phere of the garret that Wynnie, Q who spent the daylight in purer air, soon fouud it intolerable; and, when % she had rid herself of her charge, t she unclosed the only oaeemeni that j would open, and leaned out of it. 2 Hut she shuddered tho w&ile, for g her ©yes refused to be turned up- , ward to the silent sky. By some t hideous fascination these were drawn in the other direction, and she found herself gazing, and trembling as she gazed, at a certain stone iu th? broken and uneven pavement of , the alley. It was but the girl's fancy and yet she could havp been posi- j tive that it looked darker than the £ rest, as though it were etairied and , reddened in spite of all the efforts j that had been made to wash ; thOße j marks away. { There hau often been quarrels « , the alley; domestic disturbances, ; in which'men blustered and swore, , and women screamed and scolded; "and sometimes blows were inter- , changed, and the police found it lie- j cessary to interfere. Bat the prudent Marbys were ( never seen at these conflicts, j They always put up their shutters and kept out of sight. They could never be called upon as witnesses of a fray; and Wynnie, in her garret at the back of the house, rarely heard, or, if she did hear the sounds, took do heed of them, But last night—ah! would she ever forget it?—-the baby was unusually fractious aud refused to go to sleep without a favourite toy, which said toy Wynnie knew had been left on the top of Mrs MarbyV sitting room above tba shop. Soothing the child with a promise to go ia search of it/she slipped off her shoes and ran downstairs. The gust of wiud that mat her as she pushed- open the door told that careless Bectia had neglected the windows at sundown. Mrs Mar-' by was furious if any of her orders were neglectod. and, to Bbield the girl from her mistress's wrath, Wynnie stole aoross the room on liptoe to fasten thy wide, old fashioned lattioe. The two houses immediately opposite were _ untenanted, being in sucH"a dangerous' condition that no one oould be found?reckless enough to dwell in them. The neighbours on eaoh side bad put oat their lights, and gone to bed, an almost; solemn stillness reigned when Wynnie. wrestling with a rusty hasp, paused to listen £tu'| the mellow tones of some petsons, whose words, though spoken softly, were carried toward her by the gentle breeze from the sea. l Two persons were .coming, down the alley; one of them slightly in advance of the other, striding along with an easy, careless gait; while his oompanion, wpre the dress of a footman, and carried a valise on his shoulder. The first named was a gentleman undoubtedly, but what the other was like it was impossible to see, for he had dpawn his hat over his eyes, and seemed to be keeping as much as possible in the shadow of the dilapidated tenements. "This isn't the pleasantest local-: idea to whioh you are leading me, ray good fellow!" exclaimed the one in advance. "It's the shortest," was the muttered reply. w "Then I'll not oomplain. r Have we much further to go? Only a hundred yards or so? good news; but I suppose there "can be no objection to rby lighting a cigarette io keep at bay the foul odour?" The gentleman paused he spoke, and struck a light. The transitory blaze gave Wynnie a glimpse of fine, manly rfeatures, bronzed and bearded, the features of a man who might (be not only admired, but trusted. Wynnie aaw the kindly, thoughtful face, aud that was all, for the same moment showed her the manservant had dropped the valiso, and was creeping up behind with a formidable weapon grasped in his murderous hand. Hhe leaned out of the casement in her agitation, and endeavoured to shriek a warning to the unconscious pedestrian, but terror deprivedjher of the power of doing so. £Jor would it have been of any avail,J, for already the threatened blow had fallen, ajd with such ; crashing force that the stricken man had dropped helpeessly ou the ground, without sigh or gioan. But the worst was yet to como. IfJre Wynnie could leave the window and rush downstairs to. entreat the Mar by stogo to the aid of the gentlemn, she their door thrown open, and saw both from it. What were they about to do?

1 By Charles W. Hathaway. thor of " Marjorle's Siveetlteart," "A Long Martyrdom," " A Hash Vow,'< t( Joseph Dane's Diplomacyetc., etc.

She saw one of them, snatch the valise and toss it into the shop, and then the prostrate form was raised between them, to be conveyed thither also. But the stupefying effect of the blow was passing away; the attempt to seize him was resisted. In an iostau<; tbeir would-be prisoner had eluded their baoked against the one of the dilapidated houses, and was fighting desperately against fearful odds. The struggle was as brief as it was violent. What could his strength and courage avail him against three adversaries? He must have comprehended bis peril, for he began to snout loudly for help, and Wynnie fonnd herself echoing the cry. It was quickly silenced. Again the bludgeon was brought into use, again he dropped helplessly on the stones, the three panting men closed rouna him, and the frightened spectator of the soeoe fled back to her garret. The child had fallen asleep, and, creeping into the bed dreesed as she was, she drew the clothes over her head, lior ventured to stir or look up till the morning. l 1 Why this foul deed had been done she knew not, upr what was the end of it. When, iu answer to an imperious summons, she carried the baby downstairs at breakfast time, every ihiug looked much as usual. Mrs Marbj was preparing breakfast for, her husband, nad brotbet, and they lounged at tho table, discussing a collision in the Channel as coolly as if tfao< incidents of the previous night had only been a bad dream that had visited the still seared and ,shuddering Wynnie in her sleep. Tho manservant who had struck those cruel blows—where was be and what had they done wi!h his victim? That uo one suspected her of having witnessed the terrible soene was certain; for, as sjon as she had nutely declined the food that would have choke?* her, Mrs Marby bade her be off about her business, and she gladly obeyed the mandate, staying away from the now detested house as long as her dread of her taskmasters would let, her. 1 All these things now crowded uplon Wynnie, and night, instead of bringing with it rest and relief, was j fraught with apprehension. She j could not forget what she had seen. She knew not why she was placed iu the garret ; it bad never happened before. Oould it be that they were hiding something in hers that no one might be allowed to behold? The vague surmise threw her into another fit of trembling, but she was too. thoroughly cowed into subjection to the Jlarbya to dream of denouncing them. Looked op in her own heart she must keep all she and all she suspected; and, trying to herself into pleasanter thoughts, of the beautiful Gorilla and her munificent giit, the weary, little oreature lapsed at last into forgetfulness. (To be Continued).