"The Love That Conquered,"

Wairarapa Daily Times, 3 January 1928, Page 7

"The Love That Conquered,"

A CHARMING ROMANCE BY A POPULAR WRITER

BY CHARLES PROCTER, Author of “The Eockell Combine,” “Pools of the Past,” “The Alan in the Case,” etc,, etc.

CHAPTER. I. •Julie came to the surface after swimming under water for some distance, drew a deep breath of great content, turned on her back and floated for a time to gaze up dreamily at the cloudless blue sky—a sky as blue as her own sweet, inscrutable eyes; then, out of sheer lightness of heart and because she was bubbling over with the jov of living, she began to gambol about, like a dolphin in the sun-kissed water of the lagoon. And such water! Crystal clear but intershot with colours more gorgeous than any rainbow, alternating from turquoise, peacock-blue and emerald to jade green, and seeming' to change constantly like the colours in a kaleidoscope. Deep, deep down below her, but plainly to be seen, were wonder gardens of coral, amongst. which tiny fish of brilliant hues and with eyes like jewels darted and fluttered like butterflies, while overhead a school of flying fish, startled by the swimmer, flashed through the air in silvery flight. A thousand times before Julie had seen the ever-changing marine beauties of the lagoon, but they never palled. She loved the sea, and was almost as much at home in the water as she was on the island of Talula —the only home she knew—and spent almost as much time in it. Julie could scarcely rlemember the time when she had been unable to swim, and now at twentythree she out-rivalled even the most expert and graceful of the ahnost-am-phibious Polynesian maidens of her island home.

von in correct style. You see, I happen 1o be the only white person* on Talula at the moment —and at the moment, of course, I am not on Talula but on your boat, which, by the way, seems to be a very slow starter” “Pray don’t apologise, Miss Brown,” murmured Crosby Courlander, starting the motor. “I wasn’t apologising,” said Julie calmly, “but I am annoyed that none of my men put out in a canoe or swam out to tell me a ship was in I was capering about in the water or must have seen you myself. I should have liked to welcome you in style. With the exception of my father, Martin Eden, and the skipper of the Tahiti Bello, which calls here about once every Hour months, you 1 are the first white man I have seen for over a year, and I think” —Julie cocked her head on one side bird-fashion and studied him critically—“yes, I think you are the niecst-looking man I have ever seen.”

She was far from the shore, but that fact did not disturb her a whit as she plunged, swam, and frolicked in the water. At length, however, above the dull thundering of the swinging Pacific seas on the reef surrounding the calm lagoon, she heard an unusual sound and raised her head to look around and listen. Within a hundred yards of her or so, and bearing straight for her, was a small, white-painted niotof'Taunch, the like of which Julie had never seen before, and in the boat was a young white man wearing a white suit and a yachting cap. Julie cried out in involuntary amazement, trod water and gazed in wideeyed astonishment at the launch, then, when the boat was within a few yards of her and seemed like to run her down, she cried out again. “Hi! Look Avliere you’re going!” her clear young voice rang out. The young fellow in the motor launch almost jumped from his seat in surprise, stopped the engine suddenly, and looked about him bewildcredly to see from whence and whom the shout had come. And then he saw Julie’s face, smiling up at him from the limpid water a few yards away and he gasped. “Well I’m—er—l beg your pardon!” he ejaculated, and looked so comically amazed that Julie laughed. “I say, are you Aphrodite or a mermaid?” lie added, recovering himself. “Neither,” Julie answered, after propelling herself through the water and reaching up to take hold of the gunwale of the tiny launch. “I’m Julie Brown. Who are you, and where in the world have you come from?” “So you are actually human!” exclaimed the young man, still staring bcwilderdly at Julie, but instinctively! doffing liia cap “At least I suppose you must be. I never heard of a mermaid called Julie Brown, and I don’t remember any Greek goddess of that name spring from the foam, but—well, one doesn’t expect to find a girl who talks English—or any girl for that matter —swimming about in the sea about half a mile from shore. I say, won’t you come aboard?” “You want to make quite sure I haven’t got a tail and fins and scales, I suppose!” laughed Julie, her blue eyes twinkling. “Who are you? Where have you come from, how did you get here and where are you going ? ” The young man’s lips twitched, but he assumed a preternaturally solemn expression as ho raised his cap again. “I beg your pardon, Miss Brown,” he said politely, and one might have imagined from his manner that he was quite accustomed to giving an account of himself to girls swimming in the sea about half a mile from a Pacific island. “‘I am Crosby Courlandor, at your service. I have come ‘from a yacht, by name The Adventure, which you will sec behind you if you cake to turn your head. The yacht ha's sailed all the way from San Francisco with myself as its solitary passenger, and for the past four months it and I have been cruising among the South Sea Islands. Papeete, in Tahiti, was our last port of call, arid we arrived in this lagoon only a few minutes ago. I got here from the yacht by means of the motor boat to which you are clinging, and when you appeared like Aphrodite from the deep I was making for the island on the starboard bow which I understand is called Talula—the island, I mean, not the starboard bow. Any further information you desire will be willingly supplied, and we shall be pleased to refer you to persons of standing who 1 will vouch for our respectability, etcetera. ’ ’ Julie trilled out a laugh, swung one white leg over the side of the boat, and nimbly climbed aboard. “ ‘Thanking you for past favours and assuring you of our best attention at all times, wo are, dear madam, yours obediently, Crosb’v Courlander,’ ” she exclaimed with a roguishly-mocking glance. “As you are going to our is! land, Mr Courlander, you might as well take me with you. If I had seen your yacht approaching I would have swum ashore, and would have been waiting, dressed in my best frock, to welcome

Crosby Courlander was essentially a “modern” young man, a product of Eton and Trinity College, but he blushed. And Julie decided that she liked him the better for that blush. She had decided that she liked him at first sight. He had frank blue eyes to start with—eyes blue almost as her own, which were the blue of Southern skies—clean-cut features, black hair with a crinkle in it, and he was tall, lean, and had altogether a “thoroughbred” appearance. Tropical suns had tanned him deeply, and there wer&Jittle crinkles round his eyes and little laughter-crinkles round his mouth which somehow matched the crinkle in his closely-cropped hair. He was about twenty-five, wise in his generation, but there was something boyish and youthful in his expression, and appearance and nothing blase. He had seen the world but found it good, and he radiated life and energy. So, too, did Julie. She, also, wa>s tanned delicately, and her fair, sunkissed skin had taken on a golden tint. Sitting perched in the bow of the motor... launch with her small hands clasped about her round knees, she looked a mere slip of a girl in her scanty bathing costume; but a girl beautifully proportioned, with graceful limbs, small hands and feet, and a shapely head. Julie was a brunette and her hair was cropped native fashion, which (although she was scarcely aware of the fact) meant that it was bobbed and shingled—terms which would have conveyed nothing to her. Her hair, like that of Crosby, had a crinkle in it and waved back from a low, broad brow. Her features were small, her nose had just a suspicion of tip-tilt, black, level eyebrows shaded her sweet, inscrutable blue eyes, fringed with long dark lashes, and her full, slightly-pouting red lips seemed to have been created for kisses.

“Er —that’s very nice of you, Miss Brown,exclaiiued: Crosby in confusion, still puzzled as to'what manner of girl this was who had sprung upon/ him, as it were, from tiie sea, but re-' cognising at the same time that her remark had been ingenuously sincere. “May I return the compliment by saying you are the nicest-looking girl I have seen for a long time” “Do you really mean that?” asked Julie, her face lighting up with pleasure and interest. “I haven’t seen any white girls for years, and of course I see very few white men.” “That explains, I suppose, why you think me nice-looking?” remarked Crosby. “Yes, perhaps it does,” agreed Julie, quite innocently; “but I suppose you have seen thousands of white girls, and I am so glad you think I am nicelooking. .Martin Eden says I am the loveliest creature God ever created, but I know it isn’t true, because I see pictures of girls ever so much more beautiful than I in the papers which I get sometimes when the Tahiti Belle calls here with supplies. Martin wants to marry me, but I don’t like him much. Daddy thinks a Jot of him, but Alartin has clammy hands which make me shudder inside when he touches me.” The swift little motor launch was nearing the silvery beach of Talula as Julie spoke, and she broke off abruptly, then glanced over her shoulder find called out something to the brown-skined men and, women who had come flocking down through the cocoanut palms and banana trees to the shore to welcome the white stranger. She sprang overboard as the boat grounded, and was waiting smilingly on the sand to greet Crosby again after a dozen almost naked natives had plunged into the surf and dragged his boat up on the beach. (To be Continued).