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“ALMA.”

novelist

AS OKI' ri ' U ■

MKI Mi.' ■ !

(li A i CHAU IKK \i > .m mi, d..

• iiacc to i -i'u- ti.'..: i.- 1 c 1 and it pro«'_ i. .-i-i.• i’- r<-i U: vie . . u ■ very much t. Tv - .i-. ; J. it’ ji-- ’ mis’ trim “ I am afraid h- is hi -I. U a-', said Hrac-;. “ fail 19 q'lde (i.-M ” t.'jii- i Aim c. “ 1 would m.t gi-- ■ . ;r a i in-.t rank: a friends win. - • f T-m .-li.ml-i li-.»\ • ieen the n i Kit in M naii.-p.' -ir wouidii : 1.-u i L j“i a or mi'ii:.. u uch him." Tin was rsii wit ; I'm- l-rMch :c.- i.t whin falls -0 !•-. . • n :.v i -r i-i. n ri.e •peakcr t-i a l»-i. I- r. it.,;;::.: 1..- rad never heard the J. v ■ i e .pikui properly h.iure. “ Ycu have n- n iu Martim ;no ? ’ arkc-d Harry, who admiie i Hi li'-ite h-.auty only a degree ics- mi:. i.iM'r,. u,i. -Ui . nir.-e - . w.-s i rn mere. We have been three yan in xMi.-:i»i.-a now, bn - 1 •hall never (jib :t ;u> n*a Judin; hf mu in Martinique, if I ii-..; Uu a Ui.uv.nd year. “ Monsieur Bran:. ..a it a m.;tc'-iant," •aid Grace, n exit; n “uni ga u tnu: to Australia to ratal'll--> a era'. i o.i-in, -s in Melbourne and S.di. y. Aim-v ana her mama hope be wid c mx.-ut to remain hire altogether.'' " It ia not true !” ixcliimcd Aim's vehsmently. “Mima ik.s not like Au-traiia at all, bec»u<3 an : c-nnut kirn the K ‘u.i-!i, poor dear—and I- do y m think i im. t-.i-, tbit dull country at .veil as my m ri .iM klarlin.qic! i’juf: ('■ j-r. ;> ... SlhU ! Before Dart and Harry look their U nirtare, they had engage 1 to sp i. l the f.i'i-iw-iag evening at tr.e Harveys, wo n Aim-e Brantome proui.-cd tu be pesmt, and to bring her papa, if sue ciuM. “ Mama," aba aid-d, “does nut go rut. She ia always cold- frigidly cold—and fur nothing could one induce htr ;i leave 1 tr sola before the fire. But papa, it is different —he obeys me, and will enuj if I uil him." On their way into town, Harry pave it a? hia opinion that tneir n. v acquainting’ •earned rather a ni.i little thing. Dart looked at bisfrieu i: sniffed at him, ao to aay, and did not c • descend to reply , bat, before they had readied the bridge, h t delivered himself ,d the siaiement that Miss Aimee Brantome was altogether too delicious lot this world. It was now Harry A turn to !o k, but he did not anitf, he vth -tied instead, and also vouchsafed no reply. “What do you mtan by that whistle?” aaked Dart, haJf-angrily. “ (111 i > ll.Kt. ,-St. 1 ■ 1 ...'g, I peicdve vha: \ u um o.er, young man. It is as iu pc.a case as lever saw in my life.” The necessity for a reply was obviated by the sadden attack cd ain e . g, which ran oat from a tent p tcied by tu.- rcaj-.re, and, when they bad diiv-m i: oil, Harry began Upon onother topic. Nevertheless. Dart knew that he bad spoken the truth, and »as rather piea.-cd than otherwise— he had never been in love bofoie, and, at first, found the sensation rather agreeable.

cHM'nn; xli. si Til .U'-,: : rc. There had been an entertainment in the Urge room attached to the iCvger’s Meet hotel at Silver Creek, and the bar and adjacent parlor* were tilled bv a noisy crowd of thirely diners. A travvKin;; conjuror had been exhibiting some wi-li-wora tricks, but an/ kind of a i-how a novelty, and be Boasted of as Ur.e and appreciative an audience as if he had been llur I'clma jue or the Wizard of tie N rib. At tbe conclusion of tho per; rmar.ee, the •udience adjourned aseno man to the bote!, and, for many minutes, the landlord and his •suntante found it hard work to supply tbe oonatant demand tor li-pior. Bertie Leracorte was there in company with Uncle Peter, but "eth had declined to -Hood, averring mat he had been in the bun ntr . himself, and could conjuu tnc wizard s Inad off. ~ Jtwat the first visit Bert o had paid to Cba inn since he and his partners had taken _ their new claim, and it behoved him, therefore, to stand drinks, as ho expressed it, eill fcrlbcr orders. “Don’t you oiler to ko till the boys n&s -Bough. ’ said Uncle Paler. You am t cot «Teak to drink more, n you like Jviself, but flo them goi..’ *>‘h !; « er J° u n l aii lf you ***?, pop lar on the creek. Ye sec. n a *“ j no , T _you an’ yer mate* has the boss SSftMd or.wr«lly you’re expected to as rich. Tell the lan lord to score *|T?V,v, to T ou as is drunk to-mght. an iXdo the Hjuare thing-you can afford a-*Udid as he was advised, and, when .-fcfSdlord announced that Mr Leracorte . open the house that night, which might have

■v : .no; r, noic a/.-.-y, and one man hto . a- ■ i: • Mwd- d t.;> to .ir; hands wit!. t!.e •. _ mu', i.n ; wist. :um the tamo good ' era t - I’M thr y.Tiug tfi-od and the com; .-.y f. t in lor : n ady .iviukin;:, hut, o’, nr;, c :Mi -.va lid Mriii;; the popular fancy, ;i wo u-i I- : i r. sr.d lit at tili human iMo .' eon' '. -.-ir. i it m longer. It w..- ,i ..! . ' i r, iunn.it (,! Ivight. r and a; li;--. l •..•u’ei.ly a loud cry <ier. i ...ti d av t ivty rider e»->:iij, and S f h farst in- ’ t: •’ paii-it cadimt louo.iy to Bertie L -r .cortc. . ■ iu.y was white in the face mid trembli. _■ 1 ilr■ ■ u leaf. 11“ tan, stagg‘ting, to his ir. Ed ..nd-iou'd litvi- fad'd had not the atr t> • -.(K of Id vie Peter gripped him by t : ■ i.'i r, a; i j;.t- ■ u iuin iu a chair. ‘.V ..it's tda iimit-.-r, joungslt tT’ aided t - .-ij r.i -i. kirdly. “Come, take a sip o’ t "Mid mu,“l he iL-ht in n minute.'’ ■ i f t i( ihe ’n uher to Ins lips, and mecl, 'rod, drank a Yep draught of the fiery u> ■ , rarer rd..M.d by water. It was so - \. i,! it made idm tou:: t i, but it had lb - dr i. if ct, and, in a minute or two be iv ,s r'.y t ■ -; ad. •• L-,in a lii_!i old time," he said, mitii a wan smile. Where's the periice? ’ Ida- .. dr- , r : d by Bub-inspector Boh ■ .'.an sj.-i, ■!h:i:g Linder live i - : ir i,,i |M, v,i a n-ry rsd v hiskers, hair an i !. I.an; eil- d :o hr in tint very rr om, p iv.. i i pan a -id I"cri, from wbUh ... ,i -r; : was • r. rd ,! to r uiversr with his fri ; - -01 M: i I ir iiy. -u to sir;. 11 i d- ov r y. i.d. r,” said Uncle Peter in r.-t . i, S in s (ju :. tio.i. •• Pam him along, dor S 1“ ,ii.irly t'.ie little commander of the 1 l ain.- was lifted up by tlie waistband, an . iiaiidi i from me stalwart digger to i- . ■ till he was lauil-nt on the tabic by .-1 - rf I nrlc Peter, screaming and •..-.-‘r.ting with race at mis outrage on his d : >. ii r- y arr,’’ said the old gentleman—- • d i is vi r police, eo heave ahead young-ot-.r." ■•it, th,- Lord I’d nr-Ue you rascals pay i ir i .i- d .-.irucc i Mr. BobKidley. “Now, i.ay, vraat J the matter with you?" “ Murder is the matter,” replied Seth, who r-y tid.s ti.uo Ind recovered his equanimity. ’lurd:.r n th-> matter, and robbery is the in , t- r. Aia't unit in your lino, eh?’’ Bob - -rare i;; anybody on Silver Creek ever caiied iiuii anything el.-.•—dropped from the table to the lloor, hitched up his waistband, and then laid hiahand impressively on Seth’s “ N.j v, young man,” he said; “ none of your larks v,..i.iue 1 It you've got anything to say , sot wiui it, ond mind you epc-ak the iriuii, or 1 11 trounce you within an inch of your life.” As he said this, Bob flourished his stick tbrfsti nir.gly over Seth's head, looking the while like nothing so much as a bantam cook on me war trail. As n.o ruck in question was about ten i.i.-’ I mg, 1! ;b never was known to carry it cti; nvi-o than tucked underhis arm—and he hi- irelf >v...iild scarc ly have been able to ■ urtatu ;. c .iitiifit wit.i Sith with any hope of Rupees-.'.'.it terrible threat only produced a luii-l tt .li from the miners, and cries of “ Uj it. B m 1 which inflamed him to such a pitch tout speech failed him, and he seized tuc neat; j tuiuhUr and drained the contents at a . u>. “ Tutu's my grog,” said Bsrtio, goodhumotviily, “but you arc quite welcome to it. As rut mo boy, Til answer for his tell* p .• noihim.; hut the truth. Speak up, .S ,hj !” “ Will I b.-gin from the very beainning?" askrii tl.e boy, ad.iie-oin ’ Mr. Bob Ilidley. “ C til; utij you, ye j 1” “ Wa-ai, we was a-fiuishin’ cf out tea, me an - my mate, Mr, Lmscnrte here, when he c cs to me. ffa he, ‘l'm u-goin’ along to that tour show op the crik—will you come too?’ ‘ >i -i if I am aware of myself,' I replies, ‘ in' h.r.v I'd like ter bet I cud knock spots ( it of ilia: conjuror myself,’ aes I." fl-'f-j a roar of lau-tht-r eupervened at the s'tp i-3 of the conjuror, that gentleman iu -u ’ j is: iiik r. nil a po-uion behind S»th‘* ■...hr. ■ Come to the point, boy," said the subinf;."- (. wi:.*i i xtra-jiniiciai gravity. ■■ I will et so be ez joa’ll be so peril.-.. r kind r-■; not fur to interrupt me,” !■ i ... d '■ ;L ,! , once mere causing a general i ; o. “ \V i i.i, to come to the pint, then ; M -. i. -i.-.c • k. a to the show, an’ I stays b u 1 M’ i • I'd washed up the tea-things a..’ i • i.. i iip m - ability, I allowed I’d prowl ami ;, tur a hh, a?,’ see el I couldn’t shoot a Soli ikes my six-shooter an' w ;. • ( ,it up th« hill. But I didn't see no 'j. -u .-.'.d, bym-'-iyc, I hears voices. ‘ 1 - 1 1’ f i 1. ‘ wi.ut's up now ?’ Then I ... . . fni-.iii fa.duon, through the scrub till I it i.-.-i mi to me chaps as I’d heerd a: But tb-.-y was vone, and presen ll jl v,-. 1 .. in t.-i the edge of the chappaml.l v ' ii ,ui in' down the crik.” it pa.i 'vd sjgu-stivi-iy, and Uncle Fc*<», vhn-n. speaking, pasUr.dtpvcrto him agktM (dhii’i’y an I w.itfr, which ha drain'd = '. ..v'y, much to the »mi'>yar.oe of the suh-in.q"u'.-.ir. who bade lum go on whh his yarn, aid leave grog- ’.[inking to his eld; rs. •• Lit the boy he, Bib,” txc’.iinird Undo 1’;; r. “ 1: don't hoc nan ;/ "i to he a preachin ;e ni ranee, anyhow.' U vc of laughter sn i applause, it being well known that Mr. I.i ii -y could, and did, take more than his c!i... of wiiitewr diink was gong. Bah resume.!: -‘ B -on's I see them fellers -t cr« was U'o ot m a'm-a: in' fur the Ctit; I know d tiiur httU- g-mr. ‘ li 'nilemea,' ses I, ' don't y,i;i n,;, tu) bloOMim’ cnor—ef i'.h iiuiv 1 box > ye: arUr, yon don't come ani.'h 'em wli i :S-'.h I’ar.iius is around.' Tiu n 1 crawl . ,ly. on the •.•’’oun I to the hip; box-tree over a "ii our ehanty, an' ic don't tak“ m:. mur - n a minnit to shin up it. Tne Stars was a hinni,'an’ presently Ism tin chans I s.-ickin' in the b >x-s. Tien 1 teots the eix shooter on a iimb of the tree, kivers the ionutsS chap, an' then lets drive." “Hurrah!" shouted t',;'> minors, wild with deliclu. “ Ltd you kill him, S an ?” •• Whi.h ho dteppod fair actost the r -.ci, an 1 th’ other chap jitaps up. mortalskoered. I didn’t mike no banes about it, but 1 jeslet’s him have it to n, and that they're a-lyin* nowez fur ez I I:now, cos soon’s I'd tired the last shot, 1 j at lit down out o’ that tree an' tin up here faa r z I cud git!” A perfect temp-iMt of applause greeted tin: cinciusion ot Sclh'a speech, and eo mviy m.n de’irel to snake hands with him at oner that th'-ro was every prospect of the proc, • din. - r-ndiug in a free-tight.” B it I! it !;hiUy was cqu il tu the occasion, ■lumping on the table he roared in tun -s which were audible even amidst all the noroar : —“ 1 am going to the claim, the buv is going with me Then he jumped down, seized Seth by the arm, and, aided by Bertie and Uncle 11,-ter,I 1 ,-ter, succeeded iu forcing hie way out of the room. When they arrived at the claim, followed bv the whole assembly, they found the body of one of the men lying face duwnwai.is ~ii the ground. The sub-inspco'or turned him over and caiied upon a medical man. woo had lately taken up his residence at Silver Creek, to see to him. Alter a very cursory examination, the doctor pronounced him dead. “ Snot tiirou-h the heart,” he said, pointing to a bullet, wound in the chest. “ Death must have bt. n instantaneous.” A search for the other man was then in. stunted, and he was soon discovered, hidden

under a shell of roolt. which overhung the 1 creek by the side of the waterfall. He was insensible, and covered with blood, and, from the nature of his breathing, the doctor opined that he had been shot through the lungs. A stretcher of boughs was soon improvised, and four of the miners carried him up to the inn, where ho was placed in bed, and confided Pi the oarc of the doctor. BirUe Leraeorte glanced at the man as tboy were beating him in, and started —for it seemed to him that his features were familiar; but be had no time to think over the matter, for his attention was immediately attracted by a tremendous uproar in the bar. Hurrying thither, Bertie perceived, surrounded by a mob of angry men, the little sub-inspector, who stood defying them, whilst he kept a firm grip upon Seth's collar. “ What on earth is the matter ?” Bertie asked, as ho forced his way into the centre of the throng. He wants to put the boy in Quod!" shouted several voices, whilst others groaned, and -rieil “ Blame !” A ■■ Mr. L’racoite,” said Uidley, 1 I call upon you, and all honest citizens, to assist me! This buy has confessed to xhootin;-’, two men, one of whom is dead, whilst the other is dying, and it is my duty to arrest him !" “Is i: really necessary?' 1 asked Bertie, anxiously, “Of course it is. It in as much as my billet is worth not to do it.” “Rubbish .'“exclaimed Uncle Peter, stepping to the, front. “II I came an’ told you I’d shot a man who was breakin' inter my house, would you arrest me ? You daren't do it 1” “ I really think you are m : staken, Mr. Uidley,’’ said Bertie. “The case is very similar to that put by Uncle Peter, and, you must admit, there is veay little liklibood of a prosecution.” The sub-inspector hesitated, and, being a right good fellow, yielded—though somewhat ungraciously. “ I suppose I con hold you responsible for bis attending the inqu»st?” he asked of Bertie. “Certainly and now let us say goodnight. The boy has bean sorely tried tonight, and needs rest badly." But they were not sobered to depart without another drink ; and when they did leave, the whole body of diggers turned out with then and insisted upon escorting them to their laim. Lying awake in bed that night, Bertie pondered over the events of the evening, and, at last, frightened Beth almost into a fit, by suddenly crying out ; “ I have it I It was long Bill I’’— He had remembered that the wounded man was no other than long Bill, or Bill Ling, who was the first of the thieving crew who had shipped with him on board the Pride of the Ocean !

CHAPTEIt XLII, A MUSICAL EVENING. Punctually to the minute, Dart and Harry presented themselves at Mr. Harvey’s on the evening after their visit. They were met at the door by Mr. Harvey, who gave them a './ arm welcome, and ushered them into the dining-room, where Grace presided at the teatable. “ I suppose yon did not imagine that you were expected to eat anything,” said the foung lady, after greeting them. “ I daresay you nave just risen from the dinner-table, whereas we, you see, ate about to indulge in what in England they call a ‘high-tea.’ We have adopted the fashion of dining in the middle of the day, and really feel better for the change.” Dart was obliged to own that they had dined late, but added that, for his part, he had been unable to eat anything, and would be only too glad to make up for it at once. ‘‘ The Branlomes will not arrive till after tea,” said Grace. "Monsieur T.rantome will not change his ways, and he insists upon an elaborate meal, of seven or eight courses, at seven o’clock every evening.” " I am not surprised to hear it," said Dart. “ I know when I went to England first, I was half-starved. I could not make a meal off one or two dishes, and the half-raw meat and plain boiled vegetables, simply disgusted me.” “ You ware brought up in Germany, I believe, Mr. Tredegar ?” asked Mr. Harvey. "Yes, sir," replied Dart, "and, on the whole, I am sorry for it.” "But why?” asked Grace. “Surely the advantage of an intimate knowledge of the language, and an ability to read the glorious German literature, should not be lightly prized? For my part, I would sooner be on terms of aquaintaneeship with Goethe, Schiller, I'hland and Khmer, than know your Virgil, Horace, and Homer by heart. “ Therein I agree with you, Mias Harvey,” said Dart, "but I was thinking of much more prosaic maters such as eating and drinking, for instance. The memory of the beer and and cookery of the Fatherland will always make an English meal distasteful to me. And then think of your English Sundays I The awful solemnity of an English Sunday still strikes horror to my heart, and makes me yearn for the Bier garten of my youth.” “ Surely you would not wish to see out people desecrating the Sabbath by games and theatres as they do on the Continent?” said Mr. Harvey, whose aim in life it was to be respectable, and who conceived the greatest sign of respectability to be strictly orthodox, •• i think,” Dart replied, " that our people would be better employed on Sunday in listening to good music, or playing an innocent gf.ine.than in fuddling themselves in the back parlors of pot-house.” Mr. llsrvey frowned, and Hatty rushed to the rescue of his friend, effecting a diversion by pretending to be particularly anxious to know where Miss Harvey procured her delicious tea. The old gentleman, being learned in tea, took upon himself to reply, and the conversation drifted into another channel. Very soon after they had adjourned to the drawing room, the Brautomes arrived. Monsieur Brantome was a typical Frenchman—short, plump, dapper; with closeshaven ohe ks, a well-waxed black-mous-tache, shun cropped hair, and a skin the color of mahogany. In his movements, he was as lithe and active as a cat, and in speech and gesture he was equally demonstrative. " And how is ray dear frien' zis evening ?" he asked, shaking hands with Mr. Harvey. ‘ Ah!” ze charmante mees Grace I I ’ave ze hoiicur to salute ze loafliest of her sex I” Herchetrdt the lady's hand, and respectfully tai-.ed it to his lips. " Ces messieurs, zos« ehentlcraans, zey are of your ftens ? I make you my compliment, shentlemen,” and he bowed —a real bnna-jiile bow—none of your n ids, or stately bendings of the head, which do duty for a bow with the sons of p/r----lhh‘ Albion. “ Mama would not oome,” said Aimee, who was arrayed, after the most distracting fashion, in a dress which seemed all black and gol I and scarlet, with a spray of scarlet rernedia in her blue black hair. Y r ou remember I told you it was of no use to try to persuade her to leave her sofa.” "Midarae Brantome feel ze cold so mooch, " interjected Monsieur Brantome. " It ecu a pity, because she lose ze pleasure to »p- nd a pleasant evening -mais n'imparh ! Awn anhvj, re “z:frs vc sail onjoy ourselves, nc»> a- p,c ’ ’ "I hope so," said Grace; then, turning to Aimee: ;; your guitar ?'’ v<i| ||KBag in ze 'all," said Mona

Brantomo, skipping to the door, "I will fetch him.” , , , “ lint it is not fair tn demand of me to begin,” said Aimee, to Grace. “You shall sing a song llr.-jt ?” 11 Perhaps I had better,” replied Grace, seating himself at the piano. “ I am sure nobody will listen to me after they have heard you.” •• B.ih !” exclaimed Monsieur Brantome, who had whDked in and out of the room in a moment, “/it in nonsenses, my dour Mi.es Grace, everybody vill bo charmed to 'ear you sing alrays, /is lectio kittens, ’ placing his hand on his daughter a head, *■ one sB-g von fashion—you sing snozzer fashion—boss of of zera is good, and ze von make only cantrast to re ozzer.” Grace possessed a mezzo soprana voice, of no great power, but full of melody. She was a fair musician, and knew how to use it so as to please, confining herself to ballads, and such music as required expression rather than execution. She sang “ Auld Babin Gray," after such fashion that the emotional Frenchman was moved, into tears, which lie did not attempt to conceal, but openly wiped away, declaring that, it was “ mute whilst Dart and Harry felt very much inclined to follow his example. “By the way, Mr. Tredegar,’ 1 said Grace, when the sensation esu’ed by her song had subsided, “ you were educated in Germany, and must, therefore, have learnt something of music—do yen pb’.y or sine ?" Now Dart was so wrapt in admiration of Mies Aimee Brautome, and so diltident of his own ability to appear to any advantage before so glorious a creature, that he would fain have remained in the background; so whilst admitting that he both played and sang, he suggested that Harry Lascelles should favor them instead. “I've never heard him sing, Miss Harvey,” he added, “ but, unlike the learned Fusbos, he has a singing face, and I am sure he can warble most melodiously.” “Would that I could!” exclaimed Harry. “ No, Miss Harvey, I suffer under the disadvantage of having been born in Australia; and as yet, you know, music has not come to be regarded as a necessary ingredient in male education. I can’t even sing before gentlemen, much less before ladies, and cultivated musicians.” “ Then you must sing, Mr.JTredegar,” said Grace, autborittively. “ Please do sing, sir,” Aimee added, with a ook from her lustrous eyes which made the young man’s heart throb with delight. So besieged, refusal was impossible, and Dart seated himself at the piano. Now the reluctance of this young man to perform was the most remarkable, as he happened to possess a magnificent baritone voice, which it had been the pride and pleasure of bis teachers to cultivate to a pitch of perfection which is rarely attained by non-professonals. Like many other good musicians, he hated to display his talents before an unappreciative audience,andjhonoe it was that evenHarryLasoellea had never heard him sing.Fora moment, he felt really nervous, but then,remembering that his singing had found favor in the eyes of some of the first musicians in Europe, he took heart and boldly dashed off into the Lar;/ii al fiu-UHim of Figaro. This he rendered with a force and ease which is seldom heard off the stege, and, when he had finished, he was overwhelmed by the applause and thanks of his hearers. “Bote it ees magnifiijue 1” exclaimed Monsieur Brantome, who had accompanied the music by snapping his fingers and dancing round the room as excitedly na if be had been the renowned barber himself, “ Nevarc—foi d’un Brantome—nevare in ray life ’ave I hear ze equal of zis yong mans !' Ma parole d’honneur, a voice like zis mos go to Paris to ze grand opera.” Grace and Mr. Harvey were equally lavish of their praise, whilst Aimee eat silent, but a look from her eyes expressed her gratification quite as eloquently as any speech could have dene, and Dart was satisfied. As for Harry, that benighted young man had been taught to look upon music as a feminine accomplishment quite beneath the dignity of the sterner sex, and he stared at his friend as if he had been some marvellous freak of Nature. Such music as that, he admitted to himself, could not possibly be beneath the dignity of even a king, He felt very small as he looked at Dart, whom ho had hitherto rather patronised as being only a now chum, and, for the remainder of the evening, he retired into the back ground. “ I am glad,” said Grace, presently, to Dart, “ that we are able to afford you iho pleasure of heating some music which will probably be novel to you, but which you cannot fail to appreciate. Aimee had for teacher an old Spanish South American, from whom she has learned to play the guitar and sing in the true Spanish fashion. “ Come, child,” she added, handing the guitar to Aimee, " it is your turn now, let us see whether you cannot surprise and delight Mr. Tredegar as ho has surprised and delighted us.” Aimee took the guitar, almost mechanically, and, after some delay in tuning it, swept her hands over the strings and began to sin". Her voice, low, soft, and thrilling, seemed at first to breath the very accents of languid love; then the measure changed, and loud triumphant tones rang through the room ; anon came another soft, liquid passage, and the finale was a perfect coruscation of trill and runs, executed w.th bird-like ease and rapidity. Dart was spell bound, and did not even hear the applause which greeted 'he fair singer as she finished. Then, recalled to life by a question from Grace, ho admitted that he was more than delighted—more than surprised. “ The words and air are Spanish, I presume?” he said, addressing Aimee for the first time. “ Yes,” she replied, “My old master said it was the Bong of the Sunrise, sung by the Aztec priests of Montezuma. But I think,” she added with a roguish smile, “I think he composed it himself.” “It is perfectly unique, at any rate,” said Dart, “ and that is a rate merit nowadays. Your master's fancy is pretty, too—one can easily imagine the white-robed priests, assembled on the summit of a teocalli, and greeting the emblem of their God iu some such strains. Have you other songs of this kind in your npertoii v ?” “ Not the same exactly,” replied Aimee, “but I will sing you a ballad composed by master—it is of the moat simple, but, to me, very charming.” We cannot linger to describe how Aimee wound her charms still closer around the heart of Dart Tredegar, or how ho, in turn, wove a spell about her by means of his melodious voioe. Music has forged many a bond between its votaries, but never more speedily or securely than between those young people. Grace failed not to note the mischief that Dan Cupid was doing, and, after her guests had loft, opened her mind to her father on the subject, “Well," said that gentleman, “ 1 see no harm in it.” “ But, papa, how do we know that Monsieur Brantome will approve ? We ought not to encourage Mr. Tredegar until wo are certain that there will be no obstacle in the path. I should not like to see his disappointment, lor Alma’s sake, it not merely for his own. And Aimee, too, she is a dear little thing, and should not be allowed to give her heart away where her parents would disapprove.” “ Why should they disapprove ?” asked Mr. Harvey. “You know, dear, they would never consent to live here, nor even in England, and I do not think they would like to part from their only ohild.” “ Well,” said Mr. Harvey, stilling a yawn, “you had better ask them, child. Ask

Madame, she v, ill not he offended. Dart Tredegar is well born, well bred, handsome, passing rich, and witii txpentations ot great wealth hereafter, end poiKfvses, moreover, a voice which would melt the heart of the most obdurate of parents. If the Brautoraos refuse to give their daughter to such a man, all I can nay iu, they (•(■•servo to see her run away with a billiard-marker I” Bo saying, Mr. Il uv- y kissel hi- daughter and retired, leaving htr with the sclfi-bness of his sex—to put out the lights mid close the house for the night. D.ut i-ad itcur. .’ one advantage by his performances llw>; (Wiling: Monsieur Brantome b-.'cr.nn exceedingly desirous that his wife should enjoy the pleasure of hearing the young man sing. end. before they separated, he invited t---v.ii Dart and Harry to dine with him mi tic following Saturday evening, pm nisi eg u-i good an imitation (if a French dinner an ic was possible to procure in Melbourne. Dart found an opportunity to inform Aimi<• of ):i-t invitation, and expressed ii hope that (he prospect ot their meeting ■.gain -a noon would not be distasteful to her. “Yen?” she replied, interrogatively and irnlev--:iuly. “ I like your friend Mr. J j ti'cr.Ucs v ry much, and shall be very pleased to m- “‘l.-ioj again.” “ But as for me—” The speech was never finished, and Aimeewas spared the necessity for n reply, at) at that moment Monsieur Brantome, with the .-tepid blindness of a parent, c'.me up, and desired his daughter to make ready to go home. “ I envy you that glorious gift,” said Harry, as he am! Dart were walking away. “ Weil, you know, she is not mine yet, old fellow,” replied D.ut, “Eh I V/lar the dickens do you mean 7 I was speaking of your voice, man !” “ I thought you mean: A.—that is, I thought you meant —hut it is no consequence. Yes, of course, it is pleasant to have a good voice, you are quite right.” Evidently the di-ease was past remedy.

CHAPTER XLIII. a unsfi m rosirm a.nd its consequences. The critical reader may, perhaps, opine that, com idering that this story is not exactly intelided to tie of the sensational order, too much place has been given to the description of di ods of violence and robbery, but it must not bo furg- t-'en that we are writing of tunes when disorder of every description was prevalent, whict tho connection of some of our : principal characters with a hand of miscreants, necessitates frequent reference to their deeds. We would willingly have avoided such chronicling had it been poarihle with due regard to the development; of the plot, but this has not been the case, and tho explanation giveu must servo as out exoneration from any desire simply to pander to the morbid tastes of tho leas cultivated section of (be community, An inque-t on the body of the man who had been . hot by Bath was held in due course, and a verdict ot justifiable homicide was returned. It may bo as well here to state that the Crown Law officers inclined to the same opinion, and refused to proceed against the boy—who, iu any ease, would have been sure of acquittal, public opinion being, at the time, very strongly iu favor of admitting almost any licence to a man iu defence of his own property.

Bill Long lingered for many days, speechless, and evidently dying. The fact that he had been a member of the gang who had committed the robbery on board the Pride of the Ocean, had been duly communicated to the authorities by Bertie, and a magistrate was constantly in attendance, in order to receive his dying deposition as soon as he recovered hia speech. At last the day enma when tho surgeon announced that his patient could use his voice, and that, as he was visibly sinking, no delay should occur in taking his evidence. Accordingly, the magistrate, the surgeon, Sub inspector Bidley, and Bertie Leraeorte, assembled in the room where the dying man lay, where they fonnd already installed a clergyman of the established church, who had ridden over from Forest Creek to visit him. Bill Ling was fully conscious of his fast approaching end, and seemed penitent, and anxious to nmko such reparation as lay in his power. His statement was long and rambling, involving, as it did, a resume of the chief events of a life of crime extending over many years. We shall briefly summarise that portion only which concerned oth characters of this history. The rubbery of the Pride of the Ocean bad, he said, been Manned by a landsman, who calleil himself Vamlerdecken. This man was utterly unknown to any of the crew, and had, in the first instance, addressed himself to the speaker, who had just come out of gaol, after sciving a sentence lor robbery from the p?r- on.

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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/WAIST18870415.2.22.3

Bibliographic details

Wairarapa Standard, Volume XX, Issue 2055, 15 April 1887, Page 1 (Supplement)

Word Count
5,653

“ALMA.” Wairarapa Standard, Volume XX, Issue 2055, 15 April 1887, Page 1 (Supplement)

“ALMA.” Wairarapa Standard, Volume XX, Issue 2055, 15 April 1887, Page 1 (Supplement)