CHAPTER IV.

Waikato Times, Volume XIX, Issue 1634, 23 December 1882, Page 4 (Supplement)

CHAPTER IV.

It was an exciting time. The turbid breadth of flood water, which looked so innocent and picturesque at a distance, took a new meaning when it surged up against the wheels of the coach, and swirled angrily away on the other side, as if it felt defrauded of its lawful prey. The near-side wheeler was restless and uneasy. Every now and again he plunged his nose down into the turbid waters, and then flung it up with a jerk, as if he had seen a snake, snorting and plunging all the time evidently in the most abject terror. About thirty yards ahead of the coach, Henry Maitland piloted the way. The coach was now about half-way across. " Hi ! boss, ain't you going too much to the left ?" yelled the driver. " It's all right, you follow my track," called back Maitland over his shoulder. " His track seems to me darned peculiar," muttered Jack under his breath, as he took a fresh hold of the near wheeler's rein. The track tvas peculiar. Maitland seemed to be picking his way, going a little to the right and then to the left. The water left no trace of his passage, and the driver, in spite of himself, always kept following him in a bee ■ line. They were within about two hundred yards of the landing place, when suddenly the near wheeler lost his footing. He was out of his depth. The leaders had swerved to one side and had escaped the hole. Instantly the driver jammed down the break, and stopped the coach, which, of course, had only been going at a walking pace. Fortunately, the leaders were tractable, and stood still. The off-side wheeler instinctively recognised his danger, and planting his feet firmly, held up against his struggling companion. The moment was one of imminent danger. The frantic horse plunged and reared, now feeling the bottom with his hind feet, and now plunging head foremost into the boiling water. His struggles were becoming weaker. In two minutes he would be drowned, but before that he would probably startle the other horses, and drag the coach into the abyss.

Jack M'Lean dared not leave tne reins. Victor, in the meantime, had got over the dash board and, at the risk of his life, was walking out on the pole to endeavor to loose the horse by unbuckling the reins and polestrap, and unhooking the traces. The first step, however, along the pole, showed him that the thing was impossible. In an instant he was back again, and plunging off the seat, he swam up to the struggling animal, and began operations by trying to let go the traces. But they were so tightly drawn and tense, that his efforts" were hopeless. 'Then he bethought him of his knife. With a few rapid strokes the traces, pole-straps, and reins were cut, and the half-drowned animal was free, and presently staggered up the bank, more dead than alive. Victor now turned his attention to the lady in the coach. Looking out of the window was the frightened visage of a travelling preacher, who, coming thus far to preach the gospel to the heathen, was now more anxious for the safety of his own body from water than the souls of other people from fire. Behind the parson who, to do him justice, had tried to keep up his own courage and comfort his fellow passenger, stood Lucy, who had ' 'watched Victor throughout the. exciting scene, her face white and her hands unconsciously clasped in the attitude of supplication. ' Wad|ng to the door, Victor opened it and said, simply: " Are you much frightened my darling ?" "I was not thinking of 1 myself, Victor ; only of you. Jt sgemed so terrible struggling in the water with that h.alf -maddened horse,", i They stood for a moment with tightlyclasp§d hands. It was a moment of bliss, All the past wag forgotten, Then L.ucy gently withdrew her hahds and shivered shghty, as the barrier between Victor a.nd herself once mor§ rpge before hgr, f » Oom§, my darling, J will carry .voi; tp. theb'ank," said;her lover. He took her in his strong arms ; a"nd Victor was repaid for all the past twelvemonths of hope deferred as he felt her fluttering heart beat against his own. "You will never leave me more," he whispered, ", Qh, Victor! you d/m't know, you don't knpw . . . " '.' And I dgn'j; want tQ kngw. Al} J knqw is that I lpve you : and you told me once tljat you loved me; and we aye going tQ be married in spite of creation ; and We'll be married at Bargoo'ma, for j won't trust you out of my sight any moref and we'll go away to Tasmania, for, our honeymoon, and b§ back in time, to. B.p.en4*tbB Chrjatmajf holidays with, my, old friend Campbell,, to, whose, hgusg we are.bpth going now if. I, am not mistaken," , This was all- said with so much" decision,

j joy filled her soul, .arid, she unconsciously t | nestled closer to the big heart of the man who was carrying her in his arms like a child. - - The lovers were so absorbed in their own affairs that they did not notice the presence of a well-appointed drag which just then drove up, drawn by four spanking bays, held well in hand by a cheerful- looking young' gentleman of about fifty summers, whose white hairs seemed absurdly out of place when taken in connection with his sparkling eyes and jovial, boyish-looking face. "Bravo Victor! Well done my boy!" then he added, in a serio-comic tone, " bless you both, my children." " Hallo Campbell ! is that you ?" " All that is left of me. And this young lady is Miss Brown, I know from her photograph. Jump up both of you ; and if that villain Mrestick will stop plunging for half a second, I'll shake hands with you in the interval. Now, my boy, you look uncommonly like a drowned rat — excuse my nattering simile — so we'll drive over to Simpsons for a change of clothes, and then we'll make Bargootna at the rate of fifteen miles an hour*" " But what about the luggage?" " Oh ! that'll be all right. I'll leave word of the accident as we pass the company's stables, and they will send assistance." When they arrived at Bargooma they were cordially welcomed by Mrs. Campbell, who kissed Lucy as if she were an old triend, and insisted upon her going straight to bed after tea. The next few days passed pleasantly for Lucy in a life which was entirely new to her. Victor learned from Mrs. Campbell the secret which, in Lucy's estimation, raised such a barrier between himself and her. The knowI ledge only helped to endear he* to him the more. He pleaded so earnestly that at length she consented to become his wife. In the meantime he determined to probe the mystery to the bottom. He communicated with detective Smith, who immediately made an examination of the books of the Eegistrar, and found the marriage duly recorded of AValter Brown and Jane Morrisson. The difficulty, of course, was to identity Walter Maitland with Walter Brown. There would have been of course, no difficulty immediately after the death of Walter, for those who knew him under either name could have identified the body as belonging to the man they knew under either designation and the mystery would have beeu solved. But now that he had been dead for over a year, such a solution was impossible. Detective Smith who had come up to Bargooma was at his wits end. Victor was striving after impossible combinations of the most intricate theories, when the whole thing was put into a nutshell by a very innocent remark by Mrs. Campbell. " Have you a photograph of your tather, my dear?" she said to Lucy. Lucy produced a photograph of her late father, Walter Brown. Mrs. Campbell had in her album a photograph of Walter Maitland. They were not from the same negative, nor by the same artist ; but there was no mistaking the identity of the original. The photograph of Walter Brown and that of Walter Maitland were both taken from the same individual. " The apparatus can't lie" and the ipse dixit of the sun is indisputable Independently of the general likeness which strikes the eye, there is the reproduction of every line and scar and mark and microscopically minute fissure with absolute exactness. Not two faces in a million are the same in one line. But, since the creation oi- the world, if all the faces that ever saw the light were compared, on two faces would be found that had all the lines the same. Tne photograph and the microscope together are infallible. The mystery was a mystery no longer. After the ladies had retired, the thiee gentlemen continued the discussion. "What is youi opinion of the matter, Smith?" baid Victor. "What sort of a man was Walter Maitland?" said the detective, addressing Mr. Campbell. "A thoroughly honourable man; but one of tlie most careless easy going fellows that ever I met, and completely dominated by the supenor intellect of his cousin Henry." " Then," said the detective, in a thoughtful tone, " he never signed that will with the knowledge of its tenour. It is my opinion that Walter Maitland has been duped ; and his death, on the following day, makes me think that he was also muidoi-ed. " By whom ? " asked Mr. Campbell, eagerly. " By the man who benefitted most by his death. 4