"ALMA."

Wairarapa Standard, Volume XX, Issue 2030, 25 February 1887, Page 1 (Supplement)

" ALMA."

A\ i sM, A' w ;■ i-’. I'.v iii;■ ■! ii 'i;;i I-;-.-., m.; - . il N I.‘A -. ! 1,! .. .I ! I. ( 1 ' CUAPTEK XXV, ALSATII IN Tin: I'.rsH, 1. ;» a slngultr fact that blind Fortune usually seem-! to < x .-•'* l I:-r Ut.<n u> tluje who lout deserve '.her. Tour in racing, for example. the wmll it tvrry now and then Mtoni"hcd by the news that Mr. Si-and-so has won »o enormus sum of money tbrough (be victory cl some rank outsider—in ninetynine cases out of a hundred Mr. So-and-so torus oot to be a profe-iional bookmaker, whose arrangement a we.c such that, in any erect, he couid no: pt .-fitly lose. Barely does it happen that £uch a etaks is won by an outsider, ah hough outsiders are very much more addicted to speculations which, if fortunate, would have some such result. At all games of chance, 11 o same rulo obtains—the winners of unr.-ual amounts are, almost invariably, men who make play a business, and sr® atne-mbled by setup!-." M beset the bor,»it play r. ! renumber two cases in p i .: widen arc worth recording. X. was a gentleman hj >i line a ep.oJ pori'ioa in a country town. He rambled recklessly and so extensively that he crui 1 not niy his 10--sf3. At last-having ait? bctnwtd as mucli miner at he could, and gone in:’debt to I cal tra-lf-mcn -he went down to Melbourne with a v : '-.e to < cTect an exchange into another tiwn. The r.i-Mt lie I. no was introduced to two iraullioj E.’..-l'>htaca of fortune. Af. r a visit tt the to.'io aud supper at a ttrtav. cluh, X, the E gi.thmcn, and one or t v-, i-o-csvt down to play poser. X began with live p- nod-'- and rose fro.a the table withtwe’iv '. ,:,; r—l ! Tne second case is even more r-,i. :i r. ibl •: Z, a ready clever fellow. had hico ae almost a professional gambit r. His brother. a merchant in a small way, wishing to get rid of iiira sent him to Enciani, with month money to keep him respectably for a month or two. In London he obtained admittance into a second-rate club, and, very soon afterwards, won over four thousand pounds at 100. He did not stay in England. it -goes of a!! sinds have a blind belief in “ luck," and, more often than would be thought possible, neglect precautions for their safety »Lie i ifcty won'i have liken had they not cherished this b-lief. ller.c; it is that people, on reading the evidence in a crimiriil trial, are tj.t to wonder at the stupidity of the criminal, who mieht, by the rxerclse of a little care, have rendered detection i upss-ih'e. Hj teu-tc-1 to hie ‘ihick,” with as blind a fv.alLm as a disciple of bfsboment.

I was riiihy cn?e of translating the Latin provt rh • jVv.rhrix-u ju-it,’’ by" Fortune favors the Fjrlies," and 1 am not sure that my version is not more true then the original. Tne terra “ Forty ' is used in Sydney to distingubh a cla-M which is rapidiy disappearing, namely, the old convict.. We have seen that, whilst the honest folk of cor history utterly failed to obtain the ■lightest clus as to the whereabouts of those of whom they were in search, out “ heavy villain," the Professor, lit upon his man by accident, we shill now sec how another piece of luck be! il him. Having found Sumner, it breame of the first importance to him to cover ni? trail, so (hat emiseati s from the ctffir side might not be led, through him, to the same discovery. It is tru“, he was not yet a var» that Dart and Sir Cannes North had the ogives come out to Australia ; but he felt perf-jstly certain that someone was on the grojr.d on their behalf, somewhere ; and, un'il he knew who ihat someone was. it behoved him to be doubly cautious. At the onset fortune befriended him. On his arrival at Snob's Gully he had given his came as " Freuogar;" but the landlord, as ws an aware, very much fuddled at t ;•> time, had entered it on the slate as ■ Fre i Eiger;" and so he continued to be called by all but John-ioa, who of course knew be'.nr. When Alma was »dlr-:s?eJ ai “Miss Eager," she was no indiif- ren: to corr tlu mistake, aid the Pio'ip r dd rut o -it to warn her that, lor res-w.rc't to explain when h-■ ha 1 more lei : if-, it would be advisable to aepuiesoe i.i t ie change for the present. To Johnson he told the truth, knowing that gentlemen too well to dr n-1 b trayd on bia part; lor, even bef ore t.'-ir compact, he calculated taut, as ri'hin; cni',l b; o.i .t-d through treating with S i Caa-ki N .rth's party, it was in tin hi 'best J icipr bable that he t Johnson) won l -! ss-.-k to c i n'O 'nisate with them. Thus, unless *"t ii'ly b;; i i.s-jc t > face with Otc win kt w be: i. d • v.cry • E the retreat. to won iAi and toe P. jfvs-or had betaken tht-matl-t-. was rendered almost impossible. But th .t contini/e.icy was a ! -a provided for, and the Professor e- o i found the means. In the heart of the ranges, about fi'teen miles from Snob’s Gully there was a settlement, the like of which is still existing on the borders of the colony. It was nothing less than a moisrn Alsstia -a home for every la vless ruffian, caule-stonler or bushranger, where he might rest secure from the prying eyes of the police, and honest people in general. it consisted of a public-house, two or throe •tores,» blacksmith’s shop, and ten or twelve hats; and, to the uninitiated, presented much the same as any other township in the ftss settled districts of the colony. It was to this infamous place that the worthy Profersur, alter consultation with Johnson, determined to betake himself with his unfortunate niece. Johnson, it ap-pearc-h hs l resided there for some time, and •oastr.d of relations with the inhabitants, which would ensure any friends of hie a feeuty vttaxna.

“ Brides,” he added, “ I will go with you myself. I've got nothing much to do for a month o? two. and i:*s a splendid place to do

a bit i 1 courting.'’ '■ Will no: hit niece take fright when she see? the roip!’;?''asked the Professor. 11 It would hj; awkward if eh;', were to cut up ror.g'i »s the onset end insist upon being iaU-n “ 1> n’t y u alarm yourself,” replied Johnson. “ tTo nr gilt live Jbtre a year, and r« r .■••! • anything different from what she’d in r.nv riruii up-C'i ntry township. I’il ; ; I.;.; hov; ■- t ir-l-’ir-g of the lay we’re on. rod ih vV. ■rp quiet enough when she’s Sr: od. ii lie-, it; ili-s home of most ci \ >■(, and buy don’t want rows there, they g ipii*.> cnoii-a of that sort of thing ab-r d. ’ We .oueht to get a hut for ourselves," t.a'd He P.-r/essor, “and then there will be til-' dh';i sally shout a servant.” " J.n: you leave all that to me. I’ll ride over n-m-.rrow, and see about everything. Time's nearly always a hut vacant, mo“!ly furnished, and I know a young girl there who'll suit well enough as servant, and hold her toneuo to, which is more than most wonmi! can do." A div cr two later found them installed in their new home. Johnson had purchased a wm.'or.ctte and pair of hm.=er, so they were enabled to leave Snob’s Gully without furnish irq any indication of their intended movement. For a while the change was very pleasant to rur h.-mice. A’.-r.tia (so will we terra the ft,Uhment)was very different from a digging’s township, and her eye was gladdened by a sight of the real “ bush," in all its original glory. There, had been no attempt at clearing, for none of th: inhabitants were tillers of the soil: but -till one cr two of the huts boa Hod of imr.U •.•ardrr.a, for the most part devoted to the sni'ivation of vegetables, but still graced by a few flowers, and flowering shrubs. AI-o a bright, pebbly creek danced merrily tbroa :h the village, and the place looked peaceful an t hippy. T;n. : r but contained four rooms, and was quite iuvu-iru-ly furnished by comparison witir o’.eer such abodes in the burn. It was the p-openy of tbe landlord of the inn who, knowing that his customers liked comfort, and were usually able to pay for it, had spent S'-rae money in making it look attractive. Tien the professor had laid in such a store of delicacies as were obtainable at Snob's Gully, and even a supply of novels, which comprised almost the entire stock of a travailing hawker. Si, altogether, the girl felt more contented than she had been since they badlef: Mhuourno. litre, at least, she was free from ihe noise and riot of the publichouse ; and the even more offm-ive familiarities of the flaunting Iran huai leas who coodscoanded to wait upon her. Toe servant—procured for her by Johnson —was a really pretty, mo lost-looking girl of about fifteen, handy and capable, and apparently good-tempered. The poor girl hj id lived in ADatia since she was a child,and had probably never ev. n seen an honest person b.fire. In her eyes, tna world was divided into two classes—the oppressors, and th-r oppressed.

T.m latt-.r, itoided to desperation by their wwj:;;, wc.-e e viijnll-jd to fight for life, and w-r:-, sh» thou tht.Jftilly justified in dc'plorling too former, whenever they had a chance. Her i inner had died in gaol, and her mother oontiui; ■ I to live on in Alsatia. acting as hjasekeep-r to such gentlemen as were unprovided with womankind of their own, and o'.hir viia occupying her time by taking in washing.

Tm girl (her name was Susan Brodie) had an eliir brother, of whom she spoke with loving pride. He was, in her eyes, a perfect hero—by the world at large he was regarded as an unmitigated ruffian.

O' course it hid beau necessary to coach this maid Ik the part she had to play; but the task wu not so diiiicult as might have been anticipated. From her earliest years she had bwn taught the art of holding her tongip. F. ;cn in. Alaatia it was not always advisable to let your neighbours know what “lay” you ware on, and Susio was quite accustomed to have a certain line of conversation chalked out for her from which she was never to depart under any provocation whatever. Talleyrand's maxim that speech was given to man to enable him to conceal his thou ’hts, was well understood in AUatia, and Susie was a pupil who would have charmed even that prince of deception himself.

Nevertheless she was a good-hearted, even » F ctiona’e girl, and, at first sight, she aclaired a liking for Alma, which speedily developed into love. For her part, Alma found great consolation in the society of her little handmaid, she had been entirely dependent lor companionship upon those beneath her in station, so she found no difficulty in unbending such as a yonng lady of more fastidious training might have experienced. The one discordant element in Alma’s life was the constant presence of Mr. Johnson, nUivs .Sumner. He lived nominally at the inn, but almost the whole of his time was ■pint at the cottage, where, at last, he became such a nuisance, even to the Prothat that gentleman was obliged to remonstrate with him, and point out that charming as his society might be in the main, it wi! quite possible to have too much of a good tiling; and that his extreme pertinacity in urging his suit was likely to defeat this obj. ct, by making the girl view him in the light of a nuisance. “ Von fee, my friend,” ho added, “yonng girls like to bo alone sometimes. They have work to do which cannot be done before a visitor, and, evi n when a girl loves, she does rot always dc.ire the company of the beloved object." "l>_Bhrd it lean make ’em out at all,” exoiairafd Johnson, who had too much wit to be < ffirnderl. “ I thought I could not come too often, but, since you seem to think I had better hold off a bit, I toil you what I’ll do: I'll take a run down to Snob's Gully and see how the claim is gutting on —got a half share in the best clai n in the gully, you know. Maybe Fil be away for two or threo days, nu i, when I c .me back, 111 take oaie not to cal' in too often.'’ itio IrMt.-ior highly applauded this resolution, and Alma clapped her hands wiki delight, as soon as she heard the new-. “ Now wc will enjoy ourselves I” eho said to Susie when they were alone. “Whilst ho wu- ojntinualiy coming in and out, I never con’d tut a moment to myself. I don’t like :hat mm at all. Do you, Susie?” Srrie opinet that he was rather a shy lot, end no great shako anyway; and added that, ween ho was i-.ine, they could pay a visit to the caves in comfort. Those eaves were situated a mile or two away, and, according to Susie, wore the moat wonderful and most beautiful caves in the wi'e world. The cit'.s made up their minds to spend a Ion.; oay m tailoring them at the very earliest opportunity. CHAPTER XXVI, IN THE CAVES, It was a magnificient tnnrning when Alraa and Susie set out upon their excursion to the caw. The Professor had seine whit ungracm i-'.y gi'-cn his consent to the trip, bat ab-iih.i declin'd to make one of the patty —not very much to the disappointment of either of the girls, who would have felt sadly

innorumoded by the presence of such veriatable kill-joy. They had provided themselves with a basket'd of sandwiches and a bottle of milk, and tripped along the mountain path as merrily as two little fawns. By this time, Basie was entirely in Alma’s confidence. Sue had learned all about Grabenthal, and Frau Werther and Gustl — of whom she was inclined to be jsalous— and above all, she had received full particulars of the deliciously romantic meeting with Harry Lvscclle?, under the walls of Sohlos’s Ribenstein. The talk was a new revelation to this child of the bush, and tbe was never weary of asking questions about the strange land where the mistress had passed her youth. The love affair, though of course intensely interesting, seemed coraminplaoe to her by the side of those wonderful description of ancient castles, and old world peasantry. Susie had been the confidante of many a lovs affair, being indeed the repository of such confidences from half the young men of the village, who in the enforced absence from the beloved object, turned eagerly for sympathy to the only person in Alsatia who was likely to afford it. Nay, she had even had a love affair of her own, but it ended unhappily, she said, with a sigh, the young man being compelled to leave her for such a long term of years that the engagement was broken off. (She did not say that he was undergoing a sentence of seven years hard labor on tbe roads tor horse-stealing.) "Ob, my poor Susie 1” exclaimed Alma, when she heard this pitiful tale. “ And is it broken off for ever? Why did you not wait 7" “ Well, you know, Miss,” began Susie, nervously twitching the corner of her apron, " you see, miss, it was so long to wait, miss, and mother said I ought to do much better, miss; and, after all, I’ve quite got over it, miss.” “ Ton wicked girl I you never could have loved him at all." “ Ob, yes but I did, miss,” replied Susie, eager to vindicate her character. “I did love him very much, and I cried like to break ray heart when he was took—that is to say, miss, when he had to go, miss." Susie had very nearly made a mistake, and she determined to extricate herself, so she began lying at once. “ He rode off, miss, on a bay mare with a star and four white stockings, and hia swag was rolled up in a blue blanket, and strapped tight clown like a kid, miss, because the mare, which was bred by Barney Brallagban, the blacksmith, was real wicked, and bucked awful when ehe began. And Johnny—that was his name, miss—he had on a cabbagetree and a jumper, which I worked the front of myself and —” “ Gcod gracious 1” exclaimed Alma, “ don’t please talk so fast. I can’t understand you one little bit. And, after all, it is a lot of nonsense. How could a horse wear stockings ? And who ever heard of strapping kids on to saddles 7 And how could a man wear a tree cm his head—a cabbage-tree, I think you called it?— Don't talk such stuff to me,it you please, in future. I believe you only did itbccvurcyou know you had behaved badly to that young man.”

bhisie stared, open-mouthed, whilst Alma fleliv* rel this tirade, which she did with consi lerfi'd; vehemence; and then, as it dawned upon htr that her young mistress was in earnest, she broke out into a laugh, whioh changed into a wail as she caught the ex p e»sion of the young lady’s countenance. “ I didn’t go to do it, miss I” she sobbed out. “I didn’t remember you was a newchum, and that you didn’t understand out talk—whioh rubbish it do sound, the way you puts it, miss.” Alma blushed, for she called to mind her first experience of colonialisms, as they fell from the lips of Harry Lasoelles, and she took Susie’s hand very tenderly. ‘‘Don’t cry, dear,” she said. ‘‘lt was all my fault. I should not have been so stupid as to forget that you use many expressions which Ido not understand. Come now, you shall explain to mo what you meant. To begin with what is a cabbage tree?” Susie smiled through her tears, and gave the requisite information, and the storm passed over.

The path wound around (be side of a steep mountain, and was overhung by dense masses of foliage, so that the blazing sun was often hidden from view, end caused them no inconvenience. Alma was charmed with the many brilliant wild-flowers, and delicate ferns with which the mountain was covered ; and, as she inhaled the rich petfumo of the “ bush,” and listened to the twittering of the smaller birds; the cooing of the wild pigeons, the mad laughter of the laughing-jackass, and the joyous carol of the magpie, ebe thought that a walk through Paradise could scarcely be more delightful. Presently the path trended suddenly downward, and, after a sharp turn, they found themselves at the entrance to the caves.

Before them rose a huge wall of granite, stained here and there a rich brown, whilst ferns and tufts of grasses peeped out from many a fissure. Low down there was an opening half concealed by shrubs which Susie said was the entrance. It looked so dark that Alma was afraid to go, but Susie had no such scruples, and readily plunged into the gloom, whither, after a moment’s hesitation, Alma followed her. For some yards they walked along a narrow passage, in a species of twilight, and then, suddenly, they stepped out into broad daylight. “ There 1” exclaimed Susie, “ what do you think of that?” They were standing in a vast amphitheatre of rocks, which narrowed in towards the summit, but still left a sufficient opening to flood the place with light. The floor was covered by huge boulders, heaped together as they may be seen on the eea-shore. The blue-gray oi the granite, etaiaed by rains, and flecked with mosses and ferns, presented every hue of the rainbow, under the rays of tho sun, which at that time was plainly to be seen through the opening at the top. It was a wild, myoterous place, not in the least like the cavern Alma had expected to see. .She thought to find stalactites and stalagnites, such as she had seen in Germany, and, for a moment, she was disappointed; but soon she was compelled to recognise the solemn grandeur of the scene, and she readily rep inded to Susie’s desire that it should be appreciated. “It is magnificent—but terrible! It looks as if it had been the scene of some fierce combat of Titans, who had hurled those rocks about in savage wrath. It is wonder ful—wonderful 1” Susie wondered what Titans were, and how it could be possible lor them to heave such huge masses of stone at one another I but she refrained from questioning—the very igonrant always do so refrain—everything around them is a mystery, and they are content to plod on in their ignorance. “ Shall we lunch here ?’’ she asked, when she thought she had allowed her young mistress sufficient time to admire. “If you please,” said Alma. “ Anywhere will do. lam not hungry. “I—I—” here much to her own surprise, and greatly to the dismay of her attendant, Alma began sobbing hysterically, and was fain to seat herself on a boulder, and rest her head on Susie’s shoulder. " R'hat is the matter, mies ?” askod the frightened girl. “I—l don’t know,” sobbed Alma. “I was so happy just now—and now—oh, this u (oi foolish ! I think it is this awful frillness that frightened me, and yet I do not feel frightened, nor unhappy—l—cannot tell now 1 feel I”

Susie was seriously alarmed, Hysteria was a species of disorder which found ht*lc faTor amongst the denizens of AUalia; such symptoms of it as occasionally appeared being invariably attributed to excess in the use of stimulants. She bad seen drink eoddened females " carry on," as she termed it, much after the same fashion as Alma was now doing; but, as the ladies in question were always either drunk, or cuff. ring a recovery from a debuncu, she cmM perceive no analogy between their cases and. that of her voung mistress. Sufic pointed out sundry figures which, she said, led into other caves, for the iao?.t gloomy mid uninteresting, and, slid added, there was another entrance on tire opposite side of the mountain. They then had lunch, a perfectly delightful repast, although it onmislcd merely of sandwiches and mifk ; then Alma set to work to gather a nosegay of nuns and such flowerets as bad thtir habitat in the cavern. , , , , Suddenly she was startled by a crash of thunder, followed by a jagged flash of lightning which seemed to strike the ground almost at her feet. " Quick, missl” cried Susie —for Alma had clambered many yards up the rampart o{ rock. “ Come back at once 1 The rain will be a-comin’ down in torrents afore you could say 1 knife.’ ” It was one of those violent thunderstorms which arc peculiar to the Australian summer, and, as Susie had said, was (scarcely able to get under cover before the rain fell in almost a solid sheet of water into the cavern. The girls took refuge in the (iisures, and for awhile enjoyed the magnificent spectacle in silence. The peals of thunder swelled to enormous volume amid the rocks, and reverberated and returned again, till tao roar became perfectly deafening. Then the* lightning flashed, as it seemed, into the heart of the cavern, flooding it with pale blue light, which dazzled the eye until it became painful look upon. At last Susie, the practical, suggested that they should make a nest and sleep till the storm was over. Tins suggestion by no means pleased Alma, who—although she was more than hali-tsi'fi-fied—would not withdraw from the fascination of this wild war of the elements. Hut for the contemplation of such a scene, companionship is by no means necessary, or even desirable when the companion is one of those unimaginative people who cannot even comprehend the emotions excited in the higher nature, eo Alma bade the girl sleep if she could, whilst she herself would look on, tor awhile, at any rate. Susie, nothing loth, coiled up behind a huge rock, and, in a very few minutes, was in the land of dreams. Gradually the thunder and lightning passed away, but the rain still descended in torrents. The scene had lost its charm, and Alma wished that she could follow her companion’s example. The outlook was inexpressibly dreary, so she determined to explore. Susie had told her that the fissure, in which they had sought shelter, was but the passage way to a cavern of large extent, which was, however, dark and uninteresting, the little light filtering through cracks end crannies in the rocky roof. But Alma was weary of waiting for the rain to cease, and decided that any change o? scene could only be for the better. For some twenty yards, she walked in ever-increasing gloom, when she was surprised to see a rod reflection on the cigantic wall, whilst a faint murmur, as of whimpered conversation, fell upon her ear. She stopped, and half-turned, with the intention to awaken Susie,but, curiousity, that bane of woman-kind, laid its grip upon her, and she determined to find out something more before she retraced her steps So, with beating heart, she crept slowly onward, pausing at every moment to listen. For a moment or two she stood bewildered, but then she started violently, and eagerly listened, for she had heard the name of Laseellcs. " So this young Laacellcn is going to take charge this trip?" asked the taller of the two men. 11 Yes, the captain's down with lover an' ague, an 1 he’s got promotion. Nice job ho'tl have of it, eh ?" Here they both laughed— that hoarse, guttcral laugh, which seems so peculiarly the property of a villainous nature—and Alma shuddered. “ What is to bo done ?” asked the first speaker, when their horrible mirth had subsided. “ It’s jest the surest thing you ever was in, old man," replied the other. " You know old Rigby?" " The ole man of the mountain, yer mean 1" “ Yea—him. The escort camps at hie place, and wa’ll tackle ’em there.” “ Blow me it I can see any sense in that move. Why not go at ’em in some gully ?” "Bocoa we don't need to risk nutlm, or show at all. At Rigby’s they alius camps in the big room. Tha gold’s all slacked in the mid ile of tha floor, and my nobles sleeps all around it. Well, that room’s built on piles, and under them piles we creeps an’ outs away a board. Then one on us crawls up through, and hands down the boxes, all quiet and comfortable, to hia mates underneath. The escort snores away, thinkin’ it’s all right, cos they've got one man sleeping across the door, au’ another acrost the winder. We’ve got a cart outside, a quarter of a mile off, and away we bowls with the swag, makes fur this blessed ole cavern, and divides it fair amongst all hands."

‘‘lt looks righteous,bat I’m blessed if I sea how we’n a-goin’ to cut through no floorin’ board without waking’ of ’em np.” “Easy iu shellin'peas. Jemmy the Nut ’all manage that. He's got saws as 'ud cut through steal, and doesn't make no more noise when their greased than a cat walkin' on a carpet.' “ But if any of ’em should bo awake ?” “ The hole 'll be out under one of the beds, bo the chap as goes in ’ll be able to lock about afore he tackles the swag. K'ghv’rt got a old uniform, too, fur him to put on, eo, if he’s seen, he won’t be discovered all iu a minute, and the werry first thing as ever he does ’till be to collar their shootin’ irons an’ cutlaahes.” “ Is Ilighy in it?" “ 'Course ha U, but ho don't run no risk. Bless ycr, he’s right as niuepence.” “ Well, I’m on. How many of ua is there .to be e-ltogetber 5” “ Must have a dozen. Yor sen, it’s a rr.ra big pile, an’ wo aint a-goin' to throw sich a chance away. If them escort chaps does wake up and show fight we must have enough to lick ’em.” '■ When is it to come off 7” “They’ll bo at the old man’s on Toot Jay night—that’s lower dear days. We meet hero at one o’clock on Toosday sharp. Bring jer woppins and a good boss, and a leather waliae to carry your share o' the swag. That s all, and, as tho storm’s over, I guess we’d better hook it.” Alma—pale, trembling, and with palpitating heart, and panting for breath—listened, and remembered every word of this conversation : then, as the men strode away, she sank to thu ground, and lay there half-faitij-ing; till she was startled by Susie s voice callinu bet from the outer cavern.” It fished serosa her mind that, as she was approaching tho rook, behind which she had concealed herself, she had beard w voice which she had learned afterwards to distinguish as that of the shorter of the two villains—call the other man “.Brown,” and ask him whether he bad been to Alsatia yet to

tee little Susie I The girl had said she had a brother—could this Brown be he? If so, it wou’-d bo madness to take Susie into her confidence. No—sht must hold her peace, until she arrived at home, and told her uncle. But hero a fresh difficulty eugyeded itsid! — —lf she told him all, might he not bo tempted to let He nft'.ir take its course, in his dislike for Hirry Laacvllee 7 Tac Id's she had I.ci, s r.ee her i.rnal in Australia, had weakened her confidence in the Professor; end, et lead, where Harry was oonoorned, she would not trust him. It may be a*ked how it hapticued that she was no certain that tire “ voung LaeceUcx,” alia in It> hr the :n-u. wW identic;l with our friend it ary. I .vn im.-.b'.i; t» account for it. Women posses; the gift of instinct, which often ictvca (hern mere iff c'.ively than does the reason ol th?k lord; and masters. Alma never doubted for one moment; and I may as well admit at once that she was right. She accounted to Susie for her absence by saying she had goae a little further up the passage, lain down, and fallen asleep. Even that good little girl could tell a fib on occasion.

CHAPTER XXVII. m’coukle's ruvtcE. Harry Lasoelles, with hi; foot > a bis native heath, was a different being • a few weeks. Affairs at the station had gradually going wrong, over since th" fu-t discovery of gull, Baepaards and stockmen had deserted; had been replaced by others, who, in their turn, as Boon as they had accumulated a few pounds, had made off, and bo things had none on, until, at tha time ol their arrived, Mr. Lasaelle.s and his eon found the overseer in despair. There remained on the station only two or three "old hand?,” assigned convicts, who did not daro desert, but whoso labor was almost worthless.

For awhile, therefore, Harry had his bands full of work, and could spare no time brooding over hia love affairs. But, when order was restored, and the’regular work of the station went on as usual, the old fit came on him with renewed vigor, and ho became as great a nuisance as he had been during the voyage from England. Jlr. SSandish Laacelles, worried, beyond endurance, puzzled his wits to find a remedy for what he had now learned to regard as diiec.ee ; and, having no one else to commune with, consulted his overseer.