ADAM JOHNSTONE.

Waikato Times, Volume XXIV, Issue 1961, 31 January 1885, Page 1 (Supplement)

ADAM JOHNSTONE.

By Janet Carroll.

(CONTINUED.) Amoni the Derney acquaintances I made was Gipsy Warne, the only daughter of a grazier-farmer living two miles away among tho green slopes that were tho only pretty things of the placo. Gipsy had seven brothers, and was what her name told, a nnt-brown, rolliosome little maiden. We became good friends, and I always felt glad to spend long warm afternoons at their spacious and unpretentious house ; I felt I was liked there and welcomed for more than my music-giving ! abilities. Gipsy could not play, and tho little j cfochet-decked piano, since the days of her j nursery tunes and scales, had had tast holiday. She would like to play well, she shyly hinted one afternoon, and Mrs. Warne, not without some shyness, too, suggested ai we sat at our tea feast in the verandah corner, that Gipsy become my pupil. We began that very day, and were mutually pleased ; her eyes grow eager and bright with new ambition us she deftly followed my fingering, and I was all aglow with new freedom and coming independence. If Gipsy Warne took lessons from mo, all the girls of Derney who oould strum, and even those who had not reaohed that sublime height of finger action, would take lessons too. Gipsy herself guaranteed that. I became suddenly old and independent ; unbeatable whisperings of warning thronged about me ; Bags must not be thought of ; I blushed for last evening's giggling and sly romping with him ; I must deny my teens ; nineteen though a big figure before, dwindled into extreme familiarity in connection with my new position, music mistress to a half dozen grown pert young women, and a dozen growing ones, the conductress of the churoh choir, and Dr. Wrainham's sister. My honors and responsibilities in such abundance, surely Elizabeth would pay me some deference, at least she must refrain from so muoh 'marked snubbing. I wai tramping along towards home, my sangumeness at this pitoh, and my venturesomeuess and reliance strained strong and fast, when two figures came into tho vacancy far down the straight road, Mark and Mr. Johnstons. That scattered my plans a little. Sight of Mark ;it he should say me nay ! Dwindling strength and vagueness were my sensations till they were near, then a reckless resolve to win or lose it all by the first words spoke out. I answered their salutations, and faced Mark. " I have been giving a music lesson." " Indeed 1" Mark was always complacently above things with his face and eyes ; it was only voice inflections that indicated any expression. I knew them nearly all. This was wintereat, and intonated only to humor me." "Yes. To Gipsy Warnt," I continued, looking straight and pertinaciously at him. " H'm ! Amusing yourselves, I suppose 1 " "No; I've been toaohing for money. I

have only her yet, bat I will have more next week if I can." " More— more what ? " " Murk, pupils, of course." My face la shamed, but my voice'is*denant enotiKh. Then came one of Mark's seldom, long looks. " Thin ia a matter for domestic discussion. Why did you not consult me ; and, l'etronilla, why do you intimate your plans and oonoerna to me in this sudden, strange way en the highway, and " " And before Mr. Johnstono, you mean. When I saw you ooming together I was glad. I'm half afraid of you, Mark, and I could not tell you anything at home before— before "Hush Nilla. Elizabeth and I are your friends, your true, loyal friends; undetnonstiativeness surely doesn't lessen us. And Nilla, you afraid of me 1" " Oh, Mark 1" I oried out, with my lips unsteady and the desire to ory very strong on me. " There, little girlie, don't say any more till I come baok this evening. Talk it over in the meantime with Elizabeth. We are going to a death- bed ; don't detain us." They left me and I faced down the road, crying hard. " Nilla 1" He laid his hand on my arm to stop my rapid walk ; it was Mr. Johnstone. " Nilla, you over-sensitive, sorrowful little thing, let me understand you ; I think Ido now. Don't isolate yourself so much ; let me be with yon in thin distress. Will yon, Nilla ?" " Thank you," I blurt oat, with fresh,tear3. Then he turned away to Mark, who waited lookipg back for him ; but I had oaught n flash of gentle kindness in his eyes, and his kind voioe and words soothed so that my tears dried. Adam Johnstone was different in my after thoughts of him. At homo Elizabeth was all amiability and I interest in my scheme ; by the time Mark re turned from his poor patient we were chatting in such amiability as had never before been between us. I had oertainly caused an unnecessary display of tragedy on the roadside, but the inoident brought good, it showed mo fertility and richness where I had seen only sand and gritty barrenness. For four months I have as much work as I o&n well manage to do. I will not neglect my self-imposed task though, and always aenrry oil in regular punctuality to my class at the church. Gipsy assists me too, and I always look for her help ; her full clear voioo leads so well that, missing it to-day, I feel dissatisfied with our progress. We had just sung through Cecils beautiful "I will Arise," the last notes just leaving the young throats, when suddenly the door behind us opened. The dranght, rush and interruption prepared a sharp salutation for Gipsy. I knew her dress, swishing and noisy entrance, when I remembered that Mr. Johnstone might be with her ; he often dropped in like that and watched us in his strange way, speaking seldom, but telling as plainly as silent man could that he liked to see ns there and hear us too. 1 uodfW dismissal to my flook and went on playing. The olaUci of their tteps wont on Bounding less as they reached the gatb outside, then the others came up from the door. It might be Mr. Johnstone, and he would like to hear it ; it might be John Chippdell, and I didn't care whether he would like or not, bo I plajed it all over again. " NilU, I am waiting to introduce Mr. Hewitt." False notes and a wrong basa chord made hideous clash in my flurried astonishment. " Mies Wrainham — Mr. Gordon Hewitt." " Mr. Hewitt is making a short stay in Derney, and as mamma and Mrs. Hewkt came in the same ship to Australia before either of us was born we are all great friends," went on Gipsy, giving us just time to bow and look each other over. I looked gratefully and forgivingly at Gipsy ; this was compensating handsomely for her dilatoriness. Gordon Hewitt, what a handsome man. I cannot help the admiration I feel ; surely he will see it in my eyes, my eyes tell tales so. He asks me to play on and Ido so. In a little while Mr. Johnstone came and we stayed in the church till evening, singing solemn and beautiful hymns and listeaing to the rich harmonium pealing. As wo we went out in the Bunset glow I looked at them all. Gipsy, subdued and quiet, from music effect ; Adam Johnstone's dark face, unlovely as ever, but brightoned now by the sombre, earnest glory of his eyes ; sacred musio and reading, of the kind pertaining to his calling, always brought that to his eyes, he was so earnest, almost an enthusiast ; but the new face, with itß classic features, pale skin, and drooping brown,* gold-shot, moustache, that gave only a glimpse of tbte carved lips under. There was no change there. A little weary the grey eyes looked when they met mine at the gate. *' Our frantic zeal has tired you, Mr; Hewitt." " Tired me ; no 1 lam only 'full of remorse that I do not feel as you all feel it, as he does." I looked again at Mr. Johnstone. His feelings were only in accordance with his vooation, but somehow that look kept us quiet, and though he spoke gently and kindly at parting, I was glad when he left us at the parsonage gate. " I told mamma I should stay with you tonight, Nilla, so you must have Gordon invited for the eveniflg. He oan come baok after dinner ; it is only ten minutes' walk from his hotel." " Will you come in now, Mr. Hewitt ?" " As I want to spend the evening in the manner so happily suggested by Gipsy, 1 suppose I had better make Dr. Wrainham's acquaintance at once." " Here is Dr. Wrainham now," said Gipsy. We went in, leaving them there at the gate. Then I asked Gipsy about him. He was just Goidon Hewitt, the son of her mamma's friend, she said. He bad come to Derney for three weeks on survey business, or something about the railway line that Derney people want here, and that Stony Flat people want through their town. He oame back with Mark. My blaok silk and gold necklet came again from their hiding plaoes, and the first happy evening of my Australian life I spent under the spell of Gordon Hewitt's grey eye 3 and handsome face. I did not care for Elizabeth ; I forgot her, forgot or would not see the reproof bo plain on Mark'H face, and remembered only that I could talk with him feeling at case that I would be understood and appreciated, whether it was school reminiscence*, poetry, books, or music. How I talked and laughed, and enjoyed myself ! His going and coming so frequently did not meet with Mrs. Wrainham's approbation, but we were too many for her— Mark, who grew to favor him, Bags, Gipsy, and I. Three weeks 1 how short it was 1 " One day more, Nilla." •' Only one. Are you going on Thursday, then ? ' " On Thursday:" I looked up to his face, trying hard to find what I hungered for — it was not there, the rush of pain to my heart told me it was not. " Are you sorry, Nilla? " " Sorry for what? " ".Sorry that our fun and friendship are over, nnd that our lives part so suddenly. I am sorry." My lips feel stiff though pride ounres them. " Don't burst into sentiment, please. There's nothing to bo sorry about. Our lives

havo nothing to do with tno patiujrsand meetings, it is th<3 Darney Railway or Progress Committee." " How hard yon can be, Nilla, your eyea are like blue steel. I thought that at least you might feel a little friendship for me." I do not answer, — I cannot, the fight is so strong in me — and he is watching me. • " Say you are sorry, Nilla," this no softly, and ho stooped his head, brushing his moustache over ray bare hand that leaned on the gate rail. ' The tumult within me must havo broken restraint, but that Adam Johnstone's dark face and towering height came before us at the instant. His eyes never left mine as ho passed slovrly into the house, speaking salutations. " That man loves you, Nilla." V " I know." I did not know till that moment when I read it in hia eye3— love and miserable pain. •' And do you love him ? " Again my hungry eyes read hi 3 face, then I answer a lying " Yes." A quick dark expression as of anger leaped into his eyes. "You are rightly named Petronilla— well as I join you all on the mountains to-morrow I can keep myifarewells. Good night, Petronilla." " Good night," my stiff lips say. Elizabeth is talking volubly when I go in. Sho knows of an excellent place for ferns, and ferns in the church on Ghriatmas day is an old institution of custom in Derney; then lunch in one of the shallow gullies between the hills will be 000 l and pleasant, and so on. We are are both quiet, Adam Johnstone and I. I can read his Buffering, but my proud heart prays that he may noj; read mine. I listen awhile, and then ask to be excused. Elizabeth remarks that I look paler than usual, and poor little Bags watches me with big concerned eyes. The pathos of them touch my sore heart, and I stoop over a moment with my arms round him and a dry sob in my throat. Sir. Johnstone is standing near, and rmta out his hand on the little thin shoulders. " The orphan boy is blessed in having so much of your care and lovo, Nilla." I cannot answer, but put my hand out with a husky " good-night." He looked a moment at my hand as it lay in hia palm, and then into my face. I turned and fled from sight of the pain that waa'eo like my own. Mrs. Wrainham directed where the bu? b iea should be drawn up, where the horses should be tethered, where lunch prepared ; and with a spiritless obedience that much surprised her, her directions were followed. Saiidham's, Chipdeil's, Gipay's broad-shouldered brothers, all were there making believe enjeyment of one another's company and the discomfort and glare^of the hot Bummer sunshine. 1 stayed with Elizabeth all day — another surprise to ray sieter-in-law. In the evening having re-packed tho plates and basketed the lunch fragments, we were resting among the buggy cushions ; the others had coupled and clustered away in fern-hunting parties, when Gordon Hewitt sauntered down the slope to us. He threw himself down in our shade, then suddenly sprang to Jtiis fttil, as wti did ; for a sharp scream of terror rang out from the hill above us. Up the steep among the hot grass tufts and dead timber we ran, I far ahead, when Adam Johnstone met me, running furiously. He stopped scarcely a moment, and his words were in a hoarse hurried whisper coming to me as he passed : " Nilla, my darling, I will save kirn for you. Do not be frightened my love, I will give you his poor little life ; it is more to you tban mine." He turned swiftly round the rocks of tho gully descent ; my eyea could not follow him among the masses of stone, so I ran on to the top. From there we looked down. Aubrey Fletcher hung half way down among the great stones of the side, his feet entangled in a bunch of dried plant growth, his face turned •in to the rocky hillside, and his whole weight swaying from his foothold among the tangled roots. " Good God 1 the madman— they will both be killed ! " Then my strained eyes followed his to where Adam Johnstono was btooping among the rock points toward a slender bending sapling a few yards above the child. As he reached it he turned his face up to us, and his eyes, as they met mine in that moment, I will never forget. Involuntarily I moaned out, and Gordon Hewitt sprang forwaid as though to make the descent. Now he reached down his arm from where he^wayed on the frail thing ; it was s» near, his fingers must have touched the root-bound feet, when with horrible suddenness, shaking tree, torn roots, crumbling earth, and loosened atones, all, with a despairing childish shriek, left our sight. He was alivo long enough to know thai I kissed his gashed face, and prayed for the life ho threw away for me. I am Petronilla Wrainham still, and Derney knows why I go to its cemetery wearing mourning garments, and why my face^ is old and my hair silvered; sight of me in the little church always recalls the tragedy of ten Chriatmases ago. I have worked for my crippled boy ever since ; he is mine now, Adam Johnstone gave him to me.