Our novelettes.

Western Star, Issue 1349, 27 April 1889, Page 1 (Supplement)

Our novelettes.

OUR GARDEN WALL, Continued. ‘ Then upon my'word l 'you need not talk in tliat savage way—she could not help herself. You would not have had her marry you both ? ’ ‘ She might have intimated from the first that she was engaged,’’l'answered angrily. Again Pixton laughed Ids irritating satirical laugh. * Do you want me to knock you down ? * I asked excitedly. • Not unless you particularly wish it,’ answered Pixton, still laughing. *lf you have an idea that it would calm the raging within you, I should'not much object; only don’t send me into the gooseberry-bushes—-they look so uncomfortable.’ ‘You are an idiot I’ I remarked loftily; and then we took two or three turns in silence. I felt huffed and angry. When a reticent man does bring out his small confidences, he does not like to be laughed at. I resolved that never again would I reveal the workings of my inmost heart to an unfeeling friend. * Shall we vary our round by promenading the orchard ? ’ suggested Pixton, as we were about to turn for perhaps the twentieth time. * Certainly,' I answered somewhat stiffly. So we entered the little sloping enclosure, and made our way under the apple-laden boughs to the higher ground; there we paced in the long damp grass-paced and smoked in silence. For myself, I was;deeply bflried in thought—so much so that only a sharp collision with the low-hanging branch of an apple-tree brought me back to a cognisance of my surround ngs.

’ It is black as Erebus here ! ’ I exclaimed. ‘ Let us go in and read.’ ‘ Ho, by all means/ answered Pixton.— ‘ Are you not coming P * I asked. ‘ Mo; I prefer a reverie au olair de la lime ,’ replied Pixton, endeavouring to put on a sentimental air. 1 Who knows but that, when left to myself, the silvery satellite may inspire me P I have never yet disgraced myself by dedicating an ode to the moon ; still it is a folly which would be excusable in the circums f anc's.’ ‘ What circumstances ? ’ I demanded suspiciously. * Solitude, silence, and a cigar/ answered Pixton. 1 All right ! When the first verse runs smoothly, let me know/ said I; ‘ for my own part, I am going in to read/ So we parted, I making my way through the shadowy garden into the house. The chief sifting room of the cottage was comfortable enough, fitted up indeed at the time of mv arrival as a kind of drawing-room with detes'able little straps in the way of footstools which I was forever stumbling over, and flimsy tumble-down chair covers, which slipped on to my neck the moment I settled into anything like a comfortable attitude. But I soon set that matter to rights. ‘ Mrs. Higgins/ I had said, in my blandest tone, addressing the housekeeper of my small establishment, ‘ will you be good enough, some time when I am out of the way, to clear even thing from this room that is not absolutely necessary ? Take away the stools, the chair-covers, and all useless gitueracks and ornaments/ / Surely, sir! ’ replied that excellent female* with a look of astonishment. ‘ And would you be pleased even to want the figures left on the mantelpiece ? * ‘ Mrs. Higgins, I am in the habit of keeping my tobacco and pipes on the chimney-piece, and shall be glad to have the coast clear/ My iustruc ions were fully carried out. On my return from a fishing expedition on the following- day I found the room bare indeed. Then I brought iu my fishing-tackle, unpacked my books, and turned the place into a famous bachelor’s den. So, when I left Pixton courting the Muses in the orchard, I ensconced myself in a wickerchair, and, arming myself with a book of travels, .prepared id imagination to explore the Arotie regions. But it took me some time to settle myself, my chair, my lamp, and my book; so it happened that I had not even embarked—though at Portsmouth, and about to doiso—when Pixton burst into the room.

‘ I have had such an adventure ! ’ he said, and then burst into a loud laugh, ‘ The orchard is a likely field for adventures/ returned I. 'An apple fell on your head, I presume, f rom your excited demeanour ? ’ Pixton laughed again. *lt was not in the orchard, old boy. You know the deserted garden just over the wall ? ’ 1 Having had it well under my eyes for the past month, I think I may safely say that I am acquainted with the spot you mention/ ‘ Well, your eyes have not been so sharp that you need boast. That garden is inhabited/ ‘ I am aware of the fact —it is the favourite rendezvous of all the oats in the neighbourhood/ ‘lam not talking about cats; lam speaking of human beings.’ * My dear fellow, instead of an ode, you have invented a romance; that house and garden are uninhabited/ * Oh/ said Pixton thoughtfully, ‘ then that old lady, I presume, was a myth, a ghost, a phantom ? ’ ‘ What old lady ? ’ ‘ Why, the old lady over the wall! It is no use looking as if you thought I had taken leave of my senses. The ease stands thus —' But, instead of stating the case, Pixton ran his fingers through his hair, and, bursting into a loud and p rolonged fit of laughter, threw himself into au easy-chair. ‘ Well ? ’ I interrogated somewhat impatiently, a

‘ Well/ went on Pixton, ‘ after you left me, finding my ode a failure a sudden spirit of enterprise took possession of mo. There is a certain monotony—as I have before remarked —-about your half-acre ol garden ; so, in an evil moment, I scaled the walls which forms the boundary to your land, and descended into the wilderness beyond.’ ‘ Like a twelve-year-old schoolboy/

‘Precisely! I felt just as I used, when breaking bounds, and the sequel carried out the delusion.’

‘ln what way ? ’ I inquired, beginning, notwithstanding my assumed nonchalance, to’ feel a certain interest in Pixtop’s adventqrp. 1 Well, I dropped without rauph poise into the path which runs olpng beside the wall, and at oncp, made up my mind to investigate the house. As I was walking ou under the trees in that direction, there appeared straight in the path before me, barring the way, a woman/

‘Go ahead !’ I interposed. 1 1 am in $ fit state to swallow anything. Of course the apparition was clothed in white, had dovelike eyes, and a voice like silver bells.’ ‘ On the contrary, she was not prepossess- ; ing ’ returned Pixtou, in a tone which indicated a slight degree of disappointment. ‘A mild kind of dragon then?,’ I interrogated. ‘ A kind of dragon by no means mild. She stood up boldly before me, and asked in a I threatening' voice what I wanted there.’ It was my turn to laugh now; and I availed myself of the opportunity.

‘ How did you look ? ’ I asked at length. { I retained my perpendicular, and, as it was too dark to distinguish features, trusted to the dignity of ray figure,’ replied Pixton, with perfect good-humour. ‘ 1 told the old lady that I imagined the house uninhabited, and had come over for change. ‘ Then you just march back the way you came,’ she said, in tones of decided suspicion. I remarked, in a deferential tone, that I had put in an appearance over the wall, but that, with her permission, I would make my exit by the gate. ‘ Gate indeed ! ’ she exclaimed, with volumes of disdain, in her voice. * I tell you what it is, young man; I don’t believe in gentlemen, out of idle curiosity, getting over w;«lls and lurking about houses after dark, and if you don’t move out faster than you came. I’ll let you know what’s what! ‘I am staying with Mr.,’ I began ; but she was down upon me sharp, * I don’t care who you are staying with—any way you won’t stay here ! ’ And, as I thought she was about to charge mo, I remembered that flight was the better part of valour, and decamped.’ *lt is queer,’ I remarked, when Pixton, with the air of an injured man, ended his narrative— * very queer! I don’t believe the house is let.’

* I know nothing about the house, though much of the garden,’ replied Pixton gloomily, A few moments later Mrs. Higgins knocked at the door, with an inquiry as to what time we should like breakfast in the morning. Having settled that point, she was retiring when a happy thought struck me. * Mrs. Higgins,’ I said, ‘is the house cottage, or whatever the building is next door, let?’

* Let, sir! Watch Cottage let! ’ answered Mrs. Higgins, glancing over her shoulder, as if she imagined some one were listening in the passage, and then cautiously closing the door. ‘No, sir, it is not let, sir; but the lady as how it belongs to came back yesterday.’ * Indeed! Had she been away long—many years, I mean ? ’ I asked. Mrs Higgins opened her eyes wide in amazement at the ignorance I displayed. 1 Laws, sir, no; she only went off maybe three weeks past.’ ‘ Do you mean to say that the cottage has been inhabited since I have been living here F Why, by the look of the place, I thought it was going to the dogs ! ’ ‘ Well, there ain’t many dogs about, though a sight of cats,’ replied literal Mrs Higgins ; ‘ and, as, for not knowing that nobody lived there, I’m sure I don’t wonder, sir, for it mostly don’t be perceivable whether they are there or no.’

* I have never noticed smoke coming from any of the chimneys, though I have watched the cottage often; neither have I ever seen the slightest indication of a human being/1 remarked.

Mrs Higgins rubbed her hands thoughtfully —she had the air of one who could say more on the subject if she thought proper, or if she were pressed j so I determined to pursue my inquiries, * And what is the name of the mysterious old lady who is our neighbour ? ’ ‘.Miss Vine, sir; she lives there all the year round, alone like, with just’—Mrs Higgins paused for a moment and glanced over her shoulder, then finished her sentence in a low tone of horror—* with just Bishop.’ ‘ Bishop ! And who in the wide world is Bishop ? ’ exclaimed Pixton, in such loud and jovial tones that Mrs Higgins turned pale and a visible shiver ran through her frame. ‘ Hush, sir, please! Walls have ears, they say ! Bishop is Miss Vine’s old servant j and they both lives together in that cottage like owls in a ivy-bush : and they never sees nobody, and gets all their things from Exeter, not to have dealing with who-may-be, and they never goes to church, arid they never goes oat, and 'tis believed in these parts that Bishop has a ’ Mrs Haggins paused again and I suggested—- ‘ A lover ? ’ —* Laws, no, sir—a evil eye! ’ ‘ That is a fact I can vouch for/ interposed Pixton. Mrs Higgins appeared horror-stricken. ‘ What—have you seen Bishop, sir? ’ 1 1 have not only seen her, Mrs Higgins; but I have held a lengthy conversation with her, and received the full benefit of her eye. Now you mention the fact, I remember there was a fiery gleam in that organ for which I could npt at the time account.’ * It is all very well for young gentlemen like you, Mr Pixton, to have your jokes over poor people; but, if you was a single woman a-living next door to people as was queer like, you would know what it was to be a bit fearsome/ I hastened to smooth down Mrs Higgins’s ruffled plumes. ' It must be awfully lonely for you here in the winter/ ‘ I believe you, sir; and I wish you a good night/ she replied,.in modified tones; and, withacourtsey from which Pixton was entirely excluded, she withdrew. * So there is an end of your adventure! ’ I remarked gloomily, as the door closed on Mrs Higgins. ‘ You have upset the equanimity of our domestic economy, and our fish will be badly rooked in the morning.’ ‘You should be above such mundane pleasures/ answered Pixton loftily. ‘ As for myself, I look upon the information of this evening from a scientific point of view. I have never had a good opportunity of studying manias, and shall certainly force the acquaint ance of your eccentric neighbours.’ The days which succeeded Pixton'sexp l oriag expedition were damp and cloudy. The rain did not come iu a steady down-pour, and then have done with it; but a perpetual fine drizzle loitered in the upper air, ever ready to descend and aggravate those who summoned energy enough to venture put of doors It suited us however; it was splendid weather for fishing. Our baskets were heavily laden as wo returned, wet and tired from our day’s work. We saw or heard nothing more of our neighbours, the wet having entirely put a stop to our evening rambles. However, even a prolonged drizzle cannot last for ever, and on the fourth day it cleared up. The evening found us in our old haunt, pacing the garden paths. Pixton was just proposing that onthemorrov—fishing having grown monotonous —we should start on a week’s walking-tour along the coast, when a sound broke on our ears which b,rp,ught us both to a dead stand. A woman’s voice, sweet, rich, and full, swelled out on the evening air ; it was accompanied by an occasional jingle of chords p,n an, old piano. The discordant instrument w mid have j arrod had the songstress been an ordinary one; but the clear notes rose superior to their accompaniment, and echoed out until space itself seemed filled with melody. We gazed at each other in The sound proceeded from our neighbour’s garden or house. How wds it to be accounted for ? * s,'hat is a bird worth listening to! ’ cried Pixton, as the last note of the song died f Who can she be ? ’ I shook my head in, a intended to indicate that, though the eo.und was sweet, the indeutifying of the songstress was not in my line. * Who can she be ?. ’ repeated Piston. ‘ I don't see that \t matters particularly who it is/ I remarked carelessly. ‘But I dp/ said Pixton ! ‘ and I am going tp find out.’ ‘How? ’ ' It is evident the gognd pomes from Watch

Cottage. I shall go to the orchard, as being a good post of observation, and Watch.’ ‘ To see where the sound comes from ? ’ I questioned ironicolly. ‘No —to catch a glimpse of the singer, in case she should leave her cage. ’ So we repaired to the orchard. As we reachead it, the air was again filled wi melody. Wo stood and listened not to that song alone, but many a succeeding one. Then we caught a long and merry peal of laughter, and after that there was a lengthy pause — apparently the singing was over. lam foolishly devoted to music, and the sweet notes of the unknown filled me with yearning thoughts of the past; but I shook them off roughly. ‘ Unless you wish to spend the night here, Piston, we had best go in/ I said. % ‘ She may sing again,’ suggested my companion, in an unwilling tone. * A chance on the strength of which I am not going to stand here and take cold, for this grass is wet still/ I answered, proceeding to put my words into action. Piston followed, muttering something which sounded like , Coddle! ’ As he went aloug the path skirting the bounday wall, a voice on the other side exclaimed—

‘ Now then, puss, I have caught you this time, ma belle; Now come and be a friendly pus*/ But puss seemed by no moans inclined to be friendly ; there was a prolonged ‘ miaow/ followed by other strong cat-language, and then a scramble through the bushes. ‘Oh, you ungrateful animal! Bishop, Bishop, come and see what your nasty spiteful cat has done ! ’

But Bishop apparently took no interest in her cat’s misdemeanours—at any rate, she did not respond. * I believe—l do really believe they are all spiteful together! ’ soliloquised the voice sadly. Piston, oblivious of past experiences, had by the help of a pear-tree brought his eyes a little above the level of the wall, and was staring over into our neighbour’s garden ; in the course of time he stepped down on the damp grass beside me. » ‘ Well P ’ I asked, in a whisper. ‘She is just first class!’ answered Piston, with a laugh. * Speak lower, can’t you ? ’ * Never could see the force of whispering! ’ shouted Piston.

I walked hastily indoors, in the hope that Pixton would follow, which he did, * She had gone indoors long before I came down from my observatory,’ he remarked calmly, as he entered the smoking-room. ‘ What style of beauty ? ’ I asked, ignoring his imbecility. * Can’t possibly say, as I was only in time to see the extreme end of her dress—it was gray.’ * I suppose she is visiting at the cottage P * ' Mrs Higgins particularly impressed upon us that the cottage received no visitors,’ objected Pixton. I had possessed myself of a newspaper, and, severely ensconced behind it, I took no notice of my friend’s last remark, so indicating that I considered the subject exhausted. It was however not exhausted with Pixton, for, at various intervals during the succeeding half-hour, I heard him exc’aim, as though questioning some invisible fortune-teller—- ‘ Who can she be P ’ Who can she be P ’ At length, to ease his mind, I suggested that our factotum should be interrogated on the subject; and, Pixton at once falling in with the idea, I rang the bell; but, to exempt myself entirely from any part in the inquiry, I retired behind the shelter of my paper on the entrance of Mrs Higgins, and remained eclipsed during the whole of the interview. Mrs Higgins did not prove as communicative as could have been wished; she answered shortly the inquiries put to her by my friend —the interview of that other evening and Pixton’s want.of faith in the * evil eye ’ may have rankled in her breast. She knew nothing much of the cottage, and didn’t want to—she knowed more than she wanted to already. She believed a young person had come back from foreign p irts with Miss Vine, and was living at the cottage ; she hadn’t never heard her sing, and didn’t never want to—she minded her own affairs, which gave her enough to do without those of other folks—and were we pleased to be wanting anything more to-night?

As the final question was put in somewhat hostile tones, Piston replied meekly thao our every want was satisfied j and Mrs Higgins withdrew, closing the door with less gentleness than might have been expected. ‘Your skirmish was entertaining in the extreme,’ I remarked blandly, emerging from my seclusion, ‘and your retreat before the enemy graceful, if not plucky.’ 'You are welcome to your laugh,’ said Pixton good-humouredly; * but, mark my words, I'll get into the enemy’s camp and make the acquaintance of that jolly little nightingale yet! ’ I laughed a laugh intended to show the gloom and blackness which enveloped my heart, and muttered, in an ironical tone — * You are young and foolish.’ 1 Well the first is, at any rate, a fault that will mend itself,’ laughed Pixton; *as for the second, we must trust to the first to mend it.’ * Would you kindly repeat that P ’ I said. * It sounds like a conundrum.’ ‘ Here is the solution,’ answered Pixton gaily—- ‘ ‘ Youth and folly sport in May, November finds us wise and gray.’ ’ The next morning we started on the walking-tour which had been planned. A small knapsack containing a few necessaries was our only luggage. It was a glorious summer morning, with enough breeze to make exercise pleasant. Starting, we came to the conclusion that we were in fit trim and spirits for a walk at least to John o’ Groat’s House. Alas for the ills to which poor boasting human nature is prone! We had not proceeded three miles on our journey, when Pixton, in leaping a stile, came down with a heavy ‘ thud * on an unseen stone and twisted his ankle! There was nothing for it but to turn back. It was a sprain, and caused considerable pain, as I could see from the colour, or rather want of colmr, in Pixton’s face when I got him on his Itys. We reached the high-road at last, and farinnately fell in with a carrier’s waggon, shortly after our arrival there, I saw my friqn,d disappear beneath the yawning arch oit the tarpaulin, amidst a conglomsralion, of bacon flitches, cheese, and 1 women with baskets on their lap. Thinking that oven the bonds of friendship did not call on me to share his activity, I followed the waggon on foot, I should be exaggerating the sweetness of ; Mrs, Higgins’s temper were I to state that she looked on our return with a welcoming eye. ; She had imagined heraelf well rid of us for a ‘ week at least ;,aad it was doubtless aggravating to, see I, S return at the expiration of a few | hours. Hawever, on ascertaining that Pixton’s ; ankle was seriously hurt, her woman’s heart came to the surface, and she willingly bathed and bandaged the injured foot. Tiie sufferer, looking ruefully at the damage done, opined that it would he some days before he could hope to. walk. {To he continued.)