"ALMA."

Wairarapa Standard, Volume XX, Issue 2044, 18 March 1887, Page 1 (Supplement)

"ALMA."

ttopcftet.

1. : li■ . : 'i Ki ill.N. I Mr, ii / ■ /’ •• i CHAITLK ,\.\Xi. i 1- . "1 w;h icij r.c of the d''"or. rar.’," n-p;i-ii ftr i.r •• He ir,a-;..r : n t- • -vk room, and I dr.ro no; admit you witbeu. hie permi-finn,'' Af :h;.t moment, however, the door opened and the d„,-t;r appT.red in p;.-.-'n - a short. tat roan, with a rob e head, to..red wiln Unc:-,! ?. I iron-grey hair, and rng.cd. eij r ■ j. ..-.u.'. -. •• UMl* !'* e ex-Zainud, sdirc : r::g the tr. •■ t ‘ H i-o ■{ . k you can, iinen vor pan I; ■■■ '• mi.' Lin«.n-oU linen —j. ,-o lit u ion’, p-; r.v gout tt ull." 1 li.ro. d),t r. ’ s.id Aims, re mint hr ward, '-,n Ihj .j hi.a her l.u-..r. ‘ \.a will a ; ] pii oiy ! old ii.t □ here, and lim ar 1 pWt-t-r ai well. M.y 1 come in and help yoi?' "V. » cot phfft nr in soul I V.’ho arc you ? V • you mw here, young voomsns ? ThH don't i- n j place vor hdice." '■ -Mr. I,re!!-- ri a very ell and d-ar fri n ! of rar. ' tepiiel Alena, determined to per-ievere. •• I heard of the n ;ht I cam'- our at to -ce if I could be of any use."

■ Fed vhcre y"U live, Lein?” gr.nvlr.i tilt d;,niv.fii,; a; her over a huge pair of blue spic'.achi. " 1 sm -tayijg, j.iit at present, in AUa’.i.V rcp'.i-- 1 Alma. I'.itw ! The doctor let o3 a lona whistle, expressive of the moat intense astonishment, •vbil-t th: young trooper opened his eye? to their vei l. rvunt, and could tcarcely (drain Iron. -.si.the trample. •• 1> - that see.r, strange to you?” asked Aim., rrl-..l at the effect which the nam- cf A'-atia had produced. “oh r, «ii i the doctor. ' Not shtrange at al'. V.,r de.-e many miner ycua,; vooatans lo.e you in Al ;»tia 1 ' ••I a-1 >i- ;'hitre with ;sy auelc, fro- (. --or ; .r." said Alma, with di ri-v.-.y. • If!, i.ai.oo; b.-cn al. on; in r>;.-,vt Cic'.k b.’ *0 -1 i i h-tb-ts have -.ccouipsckd me today. !■ it, I arbn me I-x atking. w):y am I sublet-1 to this j i stionio: ?"

T’.'ii a i 1 tel at her curiously f■;r a mir.-.t; and ;:,ci .Talked into the room, pr > vin.- of. tbit sh. could ewac in t:n raiitatcs if she liked. T.. n A ! :..v '. trued tc lbs trooper, and r - peat’d -tioo. " Par i-.a i:.-. for a moment,” he repF- ! . “Is that yv.ur.- wom-vi your attendant Si-i’v.'.' ;. :i■ •rv i.jAingv ry de.;,- \ 1;t iii k •;j i.t ..'\ry -v.ifd c: the e ■:r;-.i at..*. w ; 'i- f i.- ' arriv .i - ■ p-r.'-’- '. .u-a lu jU kip i ... to bring a couple of chairs from the pulor, as be dared not leave his post to fetch them timscif. SuA-' set o:i on this errand with evident reluoiatico, and then the trooper informed Alma that he bad purposely sent the tirl away bectuio be tiad that to say which it would a > ’! the should not overhear. "A!-*;:t. ’ h-t c u'-nvi-.1. is known to be nothing bur a rest of ti. oves—a harbour ci refuge (or <vF the bad characters in the district. I Cvr'c-s i ear,net help feeling astoaialieJ that y . s r um.ie si.oaid have selected such a } i.ee a: a residence fet a young lady like vou."

■ He may r. t lave kn wa it,’ said Alma, eagerly. •• V* hj. 1 only been in the district a very lit'.!-; v. . ;i., r- fare we >..ovcd there, and 1 have res ■. ■. -j b !; vr that the place was rccommt. • Item;, ur.i.-eie a person whose acquaint..!'. 1 : r ... -it. at 'nub's t rally, and wuh w j h- t at- /ruir.it bustness.' ‘'Surety jt. i net itvo there without ea-ptcing the c rarar.tr of the inhabitants v “ They feut .i quiet and orderly enough," rep'isd Alma. • i never thought there was anything wr-n.' until uu.te tc-0-.L.tiy." "-no 'loqot triry hud ts-.-ir reasons for behaving them-.;,v e, ' esii the treoper. "You will pardon c, f c t advising you to ptr-uade your uncle to rno time in removing from such a neighbor'ood. Why, it| a nuoi j than suspected tna: !r. ; nigei's outrage was planned with Al-atia.” *■ Ob, yes, 1 know, ’ cxelaimei Alma. " I overheard the plot, and warned Mr. Laacelles about it." •‘Hush!’ cried the trooper. ‘‘Take my advice and hoid your tongue about that, miss. Ycu do not know what revenge these ruffian- might no: take * they Inew that it was you who betrayed them. Besides, you would not like to spp ar in court, aud I think your evidence will no: be needed." “ Oh, thank ycu, fir," said Alma. "I am wary grateful to you for warning me." “Oblige me then by forgetting that I ever (poke to you on the subj-.ct," replied the trooper. " 1 am net sure that I am doing my duty in giving you such advice, but I am a gentleman, ahiioj..b I tveat the uniiorm of (4 a common pcin>mau and I could no: bear tta idea of subj-'cting >au to the possible wangeance olthe wteici.es by whom you are ■onoonded."

■fhjxkher pursuit of this topic was rendered ■sppwbla by the return cf .;„ie wiih iwo •”*», mm, soon after, the doctor thrust his TlftffiCL* dosrwa y *ad iuviicd Alma to

“ Dus,” ha axelaimed when she had an

tered, " dere i»h de yoong mao, uod a nishe mce? of a yoong mans he is too!” A’ma ran to the bed, and sank down by its side, burying her face in the coverlet. Harry lay there inanimate, swathed in bloodstained bandages. His curly locks lay in a mt-s cu the door, and a wet towel was boand around bis head. The doctor looked, fidgeted about the room, cook n huge pinch of snuff, and then, cro sire: to her, laid his hands on her shoulders, and lifted her to her feat. ‘ Now you yoost look me sthraight in the v&ee, ’be said. “ Dot yoong veller isb all rife, dere don't pe nodings bardicoolar de matter mit him. So shtop your cry und sit down qvict.” Alma smiled through her tears, and promised to behave herself, if she might only be allowed to nurse him. “ Vais, of gorse,” replied the doctor. “ lie isb. 1 sbpose, your loafer?"’ Who could be supposed to answer such a question so coarsely put? Poor little Alma bitched and turned away her head, but that was “uilicient answer. Vi l !," continued the doctor, “venyou arc coot yer shtopa mit him, bote ve can’t have no voolishment—you oondershfand? Ur.d now I vill dell you vot ish de madder mit him. He hash two or dree leedle cuts, \ ieh ish nodings, und be bash also gongussion cf de praiu. Not pad, you oonderstand, de sl.ka'd ish not broke, und he Till get veil all ride Dry soon.” ■ What shall I do ? doctor 7” ■ Xep bis head gool with wasser. Now 1 1 mos ron avay to the oders. Coot bye!” " .In/ ieilndh n !’’ cried Alma, with • ; -mile, as bis hand was on the latch. “ Douner and Hegel I” be exclaimed run- , nir.g back to her. “ Sie iprechen Dcutich ! ! You sb.pik Sharman ?” | • Ye?, doctor,” replied Alma, in his own j language. “ I lived all my life in Germany I uMi! a few months ago." The doctor's delight at finding a countrywoman —as he, at once, insisted upon calling her—in that outlandish place, wag so great that he literally danced about for a moment or two, and then, seizing Alma’s hand, impn: te l upon it a kiss, so resonant that it nr ist have been audible to Susie and the trooper.

" i cannot stay now," be said, in German "there are many wounded to attend to, ir. i I have to give evidence at the inquest. N.-,a mind, I will not be long away, and, when I come back, we will have a nice little talk about the Fatherland, Good-by, my li ar y ung lady-keep his head cool. I will -end your servant to you. Keep bis head cool—rror nih-:r Good by !’’ Sj saying, the cheery 11 >tie man skipped out of the room, and Alma was left alone with her lover.

CHAPTER XXXII. f"VXD, AS!)-LOST. Professor Tredegar, occupied in jealously watching the m-vements of Mr. Johnson, paid liuit luod to the account of the robbery of the escort. Of coarse, Alma’s name did not appear in the newspaper report, and he naturally concluded that she was safe in AUatia. His suspicions would have undoubtedly been arotued had hj) been aware that Harry Lss-eeiic-t was among the wounded; but, strange to say, he was only referred to as the ollioer in chat ;e. It resulted, therefore, that when, just as the news of Sir Charles North’s departurc arrived, Johnson proposed an expedition to visit some new diggings, which lay on tb other side ot Forest Creek, the Professor wdlingly agreed to accompany him. Tninga had not been going on well with our friend of late. He had very nearly exhausted the slock of money which he had brought with him; and Thistlethwaite had written from London informing him that funds were urgently required, in order to carry on the suit in Chancery. Stephen Tredegar, therefore, was not loth to engage in any little venture which offered fair promise of prelit, and Johnson’s proposition was singularly opportune.

“ What are these diggings called?’’ he asked, a? they rode into Forest Creek on the following afternoon.

>i:,cr ( reek. lam afraid we are late in the fi.-:d! but, if there is no new ground worth taking up, we shall stand a very good chav.ee to buy into oce of the claims. There ere aiwav 3 seme men to be found who prefer a bird in Ihe hand to two in the bush,” ” But, if they arc getting gold, they will want a good price for a share,” said the Professor. “Not to much as you’d think,” replied Johnson. “ Miners know the glorious uncertainty of the thing, and mostly can’t re-si-t the sight of coin. Why, I bought a half •1-arc in a claim at Snob’s Gully, next The AJiiniai’r-. for one hundred pounds.” ” 1 ■ 11 i'wiblc ? And that, too, after (he fitio’-ig of ib,-t monster nugget?” ' W-, sir,".'said Johnson. “ I tackled the chan mo m, rning after the spree at the S.iob’,- Aims, when they were suffering a rccouiy. They hadn't seen the color of gold on their claim, and their tick, was nigh tun tut. Of course, I knew that the finding of that nugget by the Admiral's party would reestablish their credit; but they didn’t know it; and, when 1 Hashed a bag of sovereigns before 'em, and offered one hundred for ball the claim, they jumped at the ohanoe.” "And have they found gold yet?” asked the Professor, “Not a speck—and I hope they won’t." “ You hope they won’t 1 and half the claim

is yours V” “ That's just the reason—half of it is mine, and I'd like to own the lot. I’m just freezing these (ellowe out now ; and, if they don't pet a good prospect before another week is over, they'll not be able to get tick for even a plug of tobacco.” The Professor looked admiringly at his friend, in whom be bad bynomeane expected such a capacity for busineea; and, as they were near the inn, at which they had propa;.:.! to put up lot the night, the conversation ceased. They were up at daylight on the following morning, and set out soon after breakfast, hoping to reach their destination by midday.

Where the Silver Creek ran out into the flat, some hundred yards below the claim taken up by Bertie and Dart, the ground was broken up by rocks, and boulders of granite, amidst which the main road to Forest Creek wound in and out, as the irregularities of the surface permitted. There was at one spot a mimic waterfall, beneath which the stream widened out into a pool, where the diggers bathed, when the water was sufficiently clear for the purpose. On one side of this pool, a lawn of grass sloped gradually down to the edge, and here, under the shade of a huge box-tree Bertie and Bart were wont to sit, and smoke their after-dinner pipes, whilst Seth amused himself in chasing the tiny crayfish in the pool below.

They were seated here one afternoon, after enjoying an unusually luxurious meal; for Seth bad shot some bronze- wiog pigeons that morning, and had manufactured a pie which was perfectly irresistible. It was a dry, scorching day ; they had worked very steadily all the morning, and were well content to rest in the shade, aud listen to the plash of the falling waters. Decidedly," said Bertie, after a pause, “ the English ate among the most conservative of nations. We are fond ot accusing the French ot carrying Parisian mannsrsjand customs with them wherever they go; but surely we do the same. What can be more

absurd than the conventional broad-clotb an« bell topper in a climate like this; yet, even in the brand-new city of Melbourne, a man, i t he wish to obtain recognition from the local aristocracy,must rig himself out as if be were going to promenade in Bond-street, ox Hyde Park." 11 And twenty years hence,” said Dart,” I expect that wide awakes and cabbage-trees will be as great a novelty in Australian towns as they would be now in London.” “ What I most particularly object to,” continued Bertie, "is the ridiculous habit of working in the best of the day. All the world over, where suob heat prevails as in Australia during the summer months, none but the niggers are expected to stand it.

Here, with the thermometer at 120deg. in the sun, British-born turn out to work, as if their brain-pans were as thick as that of an African. The siesta is a glorious institution, and, I’m confident, a heap more work would be got through it the custom were in vogue here.” “ Well, we, at least, enjoy the <h>lcc far niente pretty regular. I fancy the men must think ns sad lazy boys.” “ Yet, considering that we were not bred up to use the pick and shovel, we get through a tidy bit of work.”

Here Seth came running up the bank, his eyes glaring with excitement, whilst he held up to view a nugget as large and round as a bullet.

“ Now,” he exclaimed " what d’yer think o’ (hat fur a crayfish 7” “ You don’t mean to eay yon found that nugget in the pool 7” asked Dart. ‘‘Which I did,’’replied Seth, tremulous with excitement. •* I was after a crayfish ez thick ez yer thumb. He dodges under a rock; I turn over that rook, an’ thur she lay—yeller —sparklin’—a reel beauty I” "By George,” exclaimed Bertie, "there most be more where that came from I Let’s have a look.”

“ Hold on I” cried Seth. "For gracious sake don’t go prospectin’ in thet thur pool till we knows whether thur’s anybody loafin’ around I I’ll jest shin up this yer tree, an’ take a look—we don't want the hnll camp down on ns, afore we’ve got a right to the ground." The sense of this suggestion was obvious, so Beitie and Dart lay down again on the grass and pretended to smoke, while Seth clambered up the box-tree. Presently he called out: " There’s two chaps tiding up the road. I’m a-oomin’ down, so’a they shan't suspect nothin’. Now," he said, when he had reached , the ground, “ yon jiet go on with yer smoke an’ palaver, and I’ll go on orawfishin’. If so be them chaps stops and talks, shunt ’em off if yer can. I guess if they tackles me I’ll saea em 1 Shoo I"

Here Mr. Seth ran down the bank and plunged knee deep into the water, for the sound of horses feet on the bard road was distinctly audible; and, in another minute, two mounted men came in sight. Evidently preoeiving our friends they rode up at a quick trot, and-pulled up their horses on the other side of the pool. “ Great heavens 1" exclaimed Bertie, starting at his feet, "it is Yanderdecken I" “ And my uncle 1" cried Dart, no leas excitedly. "Hi 1 Stop! Hold on uncle I” he shouted, for the horsemen had simultaneously wheeled about, and driven the spurs into their horse as fiercely as if they were confronted by a band of savages on the wartrail.

“ Yanderdecken I Pirate 1 Bobber 1 ” screamed Bertie, as he rushed down the bank and across the pool. But neither ot the men turned to take another look—they had seen quite enough, and soon they disappeared from view in a cloud of duet, gallopping madly back the way they had come.

Bertie, stumbling at every step, hall mad with excitement, ran alter them, bat the chase was hopeless; and exhausted, .and bleeding from sundry cuts be had received in the course of his career, he sank at last by the w&y side and fairly burst into tears. Here be was found by Dart and Seth, who had followed him more circumspectly, “ What’s the matter, old chap ?” asked Dart, laying his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“ That scoundrel—that ruffian 1” said Bertie, choking down a sob. "In another minute I should have had him by tbs throat, and now be is gone, and lost perhaps for ever.”

“ Bosh 1” exclaimed Seth. “We can feller thur trail ez easy ez if they was a-ridin’ a elerfunt. Ef we make a early start, I guess wc kin ketch ’em afore sundown.” “Do you think so?” asked Bertie more hopefully. “ Sure of it. Ten to one thnr bosses is nigh played out now. See yete—me an 1 father was nigh ten months wi’ a tribe of Injuns, an’ they learned me how to track so’e I cud foller an Injun trail; let alone such a darnation easy one ez this.” Here Seth began to peer about and examine the hootprints in the road, whilst Bertie explained to Dart that the individual whom he followed was, he felt sure, the ring-leader of the pirates who bad robbed the Pride of the Ocean.”

“And he was with my uncle, Stephen Tredegar," said Dart. “ That is strange.” “ Was his companion your uncle ?’’ asked Bertie.

“ Yes, my uncle, the Professor. How those two came together beats me. ” "There is one good thing about it,” said Bertie; "as they are together our quest will be easier, and our interests will be identical.”

“ That’s true, but 1 don’t like to think of Alma being exposed to association with such wretches as your piratical friend.” Here Seth returned and repotted that he had made a discovery which would render the work of tracing the runaways comparatively easy—one of the horses had a plated shoe, evidently specially constructed to shield some tenderness in the hoof. " Now,” he said, “ let’s get back to camp, make op our swage, run in (he hoseoe”—they had kept their horses hobbled on the wellgrassed fiat— 11 an’ then arter them ez soon’s yer like."

Hie boy go evidently knew what he wag about that they readily conceded to him the leadership, and, acting apon hie advice, they were enabled to start in pursuit without mnch loss of time.

“ What will you do if we come up with them ?” asked Dart as they rode along. Bertie looked steadily at hie companion, and then said, slowly, between his eet teeth ; “If he does not surrender, by heaven 1 I’ll shoot the ruffian like a dog 1"

CHAPTER XXXIII,

susis’s rnoi. The happiest day that Alma could remember were passed in that little bedroom in the Mountain Hut. Ot the conventionalities of society she knew little or nothing—she only knew that her lover needed her care and she remained by bis side, as happy and contented as if there were no such person as Mrs, Grundy in the world. It is true that, at times, she could not help wondering what her uncle would say when be came to know of her escapade; but, when she mentioned her trouble to Harry, that young gentleman found it easy to console her. “ He could not blame you, my darling," he would say. “No man with the common feelings of humanity could find fault with you

for nursing a poor devil who, without your aid, would probably have died. There are no professional nurses here, hardly even any woman, and surely you would have been expected to have done as much for any ordinary acquaintance as you have done for me.” Alma doubted still, but she bad been warned not to excite her patient, and so she usually staved off further argument by a smile of acquiescence and a change of topic.

Mr. Harry Lascelles was not long in recovering. His injuries, as the doctor had said, were not severe, and bis constitution was not unimpaired by excess. When he first awoke to consciousness and beheld the sweet face bending over him, as it had often appeard to him in his dreams, he imbibed a tonic which sent the blood dancing through his veins as vigorously as if he were awakening from an ordinary slumber. The little doctor—Kmii Baumgarten by name—was a frequent visitor, and, by his cheery conversation and comical mode of expression, added not a little to ths happiness o! the young people. It was he that undertook the arrangements necessary for Alma’s stay at the Mountain Hut. Then he drove Susie over to Alsatia, and retuyied with a plentiful supply of clothing, Arc., leaving word with Mrs. Brown, Susie’s mother, that he (Dr. Baumgarten) was responsible for the young lady’s absence, and that the Professor was to be informed to that effect upon his return.

Altogether the little man made himself so agreeable that both Alma aud Harry felt a pang of grief when one day, about a week after the attempted robbery, he announced that there existed no occasion for his services any longer, and that Mr. Harry Lascelles might get up, and ride away as soon as he felt strong enough.

“ But you will eomo to see ns again soon, doctor ?” asked Harry, who had left his bedchamber for the first time l that day, and was reclining in an arm chair in the parlor. “ I will come ven I can come,” replied Dr. Baumgarten, “It ish a pooty coot dishtanoe you know, yoost about twenty miles or more; nnd dere ish plenty sick beobles near to me at home. You come also to see me pooty soon, und pting de Fraulein mit you.

“ That will I certainly, doctor," said Harry, " if only the cruel uncle will grant his permission.”

“ Und, ven he don’t, you comes mitout—hein?" this to Alms.

" Fie, docter 1" said she, laughingly. "You would not teach me to disobey my natural guardian? 1

"Your unnatural guardian, I call him,’' said Harry. "You may be sure, doctor, if we can give him the slip, we will. But, tell me—have your patients recovered as well?’’ " Yaas, pooty near it. Dey don’t peen none of dem padly wounded. De pushrangers vos sent avay dis mornin’, und your vellcra ish valkin’ apout und smokin’ ash if noding vos the matter mit dem."

“ Have the police caught any more of the scoundrels ?"

" Nein—bote, it ish lonny—dey find ont de house vos set on fire byapusbranger; und Bigby—You know Eigby ?”

“Of course. Are we not in his house now ?"

" Yell, he gets into a tarn rage, und shvears he will pe revenge. So he offers to be vot you eall Qveen’s efldenca. Ho, ho 1 Dot vos good fon—hein?” Poor Susie, who was sitting in a corner, engaged in making soma mysterious article of female apparel, turned as white as a sheet, on bearing this piece of news, and crept trembling out of the room. Hurrying to the bedroom, she donned her hat and cloak, and made off through the back premises. She did not wait to ask permission, for every moment might be precious; so she ran wearily up the mountain, and made her way, through the oaves, to Alsatia, to Barry the news of Bigby’s treachery to her brother. The little doctor prolonged his chat as long as be dared, and at last took his departure, leaving the young people alone. Harry, lazily reclining in his easy chair, with that strange sense of well-being which is so pleasant to the convalescent, gazed long and lovingly at Alma. She was seated by the window, busily occupied with an intricate piece of wool-work, which necessitated the continual counting of fetiches, and an occasional total unravelling and apparent recommencement of the work. The soft, rosy light of the declining sun streamed in through the casement, lending a strange brilliance to the delicate tints of her cheeks, and the burnished gold of her wavy hair. She was still fragile, but her figure had developed, and, in her pretty chintz gown, Harry thought she looked for all the world like a Dresden-china shepherdess. she looked up, and, as her eyes met bis admiring gaze, she flushed, and smiled so sweetly, that he was fain to run to her side and steala*kiss. " My darling what a happy, happy time we have had in this place “Yes, Harry," said Alma, withdrawing shyly from his embrace. “1 shall always love this Mountain Hut. Do you know, 1 almost feel grateful to those bushrangers for attacking ua.” "And for wounding you,” asked Alma. " For that above all 1 Hid 1 not been wounded I should have been forced to go on with the escort, and missed the attendance of the dearest little nurse in the world."

" 1 was dreacinmy ingntanca wueu j. you first. Oh, Uarry, you looked as if you were dead 1" " I wonder you had the courage to come here at all," said Harry. Alma did not reply, but an eloquent look conveyed her answer, and Harry felt compelled to repeat the osculatory process with •which the conversation had begun. " Oo back to your seat, sirl” oried Alma. " IDmerabct, this is your first day out of bed, and, if you insist upon standing about, you will not be able to get up to morrow. " Why, I’m as tight as ninepenoe.” hj e replied, with, it must be confessed a very feeble effort to display his ability. But 1 don t want to get well-in fact, 1 prefer being ill. One doesn't get such a chance every day in the week.” . __ " It's time for you to take your maizena. Now sit quietly, and I’ll bring it to you immediately.” T , . . . " I don’t want any more pap—l m sick of it. Don’t go. Wait till (Susie comes-she can get me something. Though why I should be expected to feed ton times a day, I don t k Susie must have gone out for a walk,’ said Alma, putting up her work ; and Dr. Baumgartcn insisted that you were to be fed, as you call it at regular hours. "Now, Alma, don’t please go yet I If you knew what a comfort it is to loo ' >_ > sitting there in the golden sunshine, you would not be so cruel as to leave me. But Alma was obdurate, and retired, promising, however, to return in a very few minutes. Presently, Susie ran into the room in a great flurry of excitement. “ Why, Susie 1 What is the matter ? asked " Oh, sir 1” replied the gWi " ve been and took Bill." , .. „ “ Eh? They’ve took Bill, have they ? I ray who is Kill, and who are they ?” " Bill is my brother, sit: and the p leeoe have took him.”

“ What, for?” asked Harry. 11 For being in the robbery, sir, when you were wounded.” „ . , “My poor g : rl,” said Harry, soothingly. •• But I suppose he will get off easy enough. He is innocent, of course V” 11 Well, Mr. Harry,” replied buie, terribly »mbart»eeed. “ You see, young men about

here are rather wild, and—and—l'm alran Bill uas in it.” Good gracious!" exclaimed Harry. “ Why this is very terrible Alma had not confided to him her suspicions concerning Mr. Bill Brown, having been warned by the order to retrain from any talk of an exciting nature; So Harry was wholly unprepared for the news, which pained him not a little, as he had learned thoroughly to like the little maid who had shared Alma’s labors in bis sick room.

“How did you hear of it?" he asked, at last.

“ I was just going into the oaves, sit, when I met some constables with Bill, and two other young chaps, handcuffed, Oh, it will break my heart, I know it will I” Here Susie broke out into a flood of tears, whilst Harry vainly strove to console her, “ You see, sir,” she sobbed, there was two of the escort killed, and they say every man as is convicted will be hung.” It was painfully true, and Harry could find no words to reply. “Jt he could only escape, sir,” she said, presently, drying her eyes with her apron. "They are to ba kept here to-night, ’cos it’s too late to go on to the creek. Will yon and Miss Alma help me, if I try to get them a chance?” Here was a pretty predicament I Harry, as an honest citizen, should have refused to assist in the escape of a criminal; as the

commander of the escort, it became doubly his duty to refrain—but the tear-stained, pleading face of little Susie appealed to his heart, and he succumbed—he not only faithfully promised to aid her in her projected nefarious attempt, but presented her with a sum of money for the use of Mr, Bill Brown, in case he should be lucky enough to escape. When Alma, who entered the room at this stage of the proceedings, had been made acquainted with the facts, she—a high-prin-cipled young lady—actually endorsed her lovers, action, and set a seal upon it by walking over to him and imprinting a kiss upon bis forehead.

. After that, I cannot help it if the reader refuse to proceed further. A heroine, who could eo misconduct herself, is no longer worthy of the name, and should, metaphisically, be made to take a back seat. Nevertheless, I am not quite sure that I should like her better if she had acted differently. The arrangements lor the safe-keeping of Mr. Bill Brown and his companions were by no means complicated. They were handcuffed, and placed in a room, with a trooper to keep watch over them. The only entrance to this room was a door opening into another apartment in which the sergeant in command and the remaining troopers were accommodated.

Under these circumstances, it might seem almost impossible for the prisoners to escape; yet, little Susie had formed a (Han, which, when unfolded to Alma and Harry, seemed not only feasible, but certain. It appeared that the sergeant.-a gentleman hailing from the Emerald Isle, had, on two or three occasions when they had met since the robbery, oast an eye of favor upon the little maid. Fully convinced, like most gentlemen of bis nationality, that his attractions were irristible, he had lost no opportunity for (to put it in his own language) " putting the oomether ”on her; and Susie, for her own purposes, had encouraged him. She had three problems to solve First, bow to get the prisoners out of the room, without being observed ; secondly, how to get rid of their handcuffs, and lastly, how to enable them to fly with euftiaient celerity to defy pursuit. Let the result ;tell bow she solved them.

"Sergeant O’More, alter tea, sought to obtain an interview with the young lady in vain. He waited patiently for some time on the verandah, which had been their usual trysting place, but no Susie oame; even when bis stock of patience and tobacco were equally exhausted. Then he took a walk around the building, and whistled Garry Owen, and other national melodies, under her window, for over half-an-hour. At laet, he tried the kitchen,and was at once pounced upon by Mrs. Bigby—a thin, washed-out little woman, with sore eyes, and a dewy nose —who told him her troubles at considerable length, and vainly sought to enlist his sympathy. But his perseverance wbb eventually rewarded, for, at about ten minutes before midnight, just when he had made up his mind to retire for the night, the door opened, and Susie appeared, " Good gracious, sergeant 1" she exclaimed with a pretty little start of surprise. “ Who would have thought of seeing you here? Why I thought you had gone home long ago." " Did ye now, honey ?*• replied Mr. O’More, with a broad grin of delight.Falx, it’s myself that thought it moighty quato ye niver kem out to see me.” "Well I’m sure,” retorted Susie, with a coquettish toss of the head, which would have done credit to a stage chamber-maid. “ The idea of coming out to see you.” " An’ why wouldn’t ye, datlin’ ? Sure ye might do warse.”

"Thecoucei. of the man 1” said Susie. “ Did you ever see the like, Mrs. liigby ?” Mrs. liigby opined that ahe never did, but that two was company and three was none, so, as she had to see to shutting up the bar, she hoped they would excuse her. " Don’t hurry yersilf, ma’am,” cried the eerjeont as the landlady closed the door behind her. " May the divil admire me if 1 iver seen the loike o’ that faymale 1 Talk I she’s got mote tongue than a kerry cow 1 An’what are ye doin’ now, Shuaie?” he added, for that young lady was making herself very busy with some pots and pans. "I’m going to boil some coffee, Mr O’.Uore,” she replied, “would you like some ?” “ Begorta, I’d loike annythfc’ was made by them swale little hands.”

“ Then, after I've taken in some to Miss Alma, I’ll give you a cup, and what’a more, as you've got a long watch before, 1 don’t mind if 1 make some lor your men too.” “Ooh, bother the mini” said the sergeant. “ Whisky’s good enough for them annyday.’’ “ Don’t be selfish, sergeant," said Susie, placing a large saucepan full of water on the fire. “ It’s no more trouble making five cups than it is making one. I'll take them in a eup a-pieoe and then, if you like to wait for me here I'll came back and we’ll have a nice easy chat together.” This arrangement was, of course, entirely suitable to the sergeant, and be at once busied himself in blowing the fire and otherwise hastening on the preparations, until Susie ordered him off to send his men to their room, as, she said, if she took the coffee into the bar, or the diningroom, she would have to supply cups for everybody, and there was not sufficient for the purpose. As Boon as his back was turned, the wicked young woman took from her bosom a packet of opium and emptied the contents into the saucepan. “ Is it done?” asked Mrs. Uigby when she came in shortly afterwards. “ Yea,” replied Suaie. 11 My gracious! I hope we wont suffer for this. I don’t know as I done tight in givin' you (hat opium—the old man 'ud kill ms if he knowed it.”

“ And the boys would probably kill you and him too if you had refused it. See here, Mrs. Kigby, what sort of a time do you think you are going to have of it since your husband has turned informer ?” “ Oh, I don’t know, I’m sure, ” cried Mrs. Uigby, melting into tears. (To be continued.)