CHAPTER IV.

Waikato Times, Volume XXVI, Issue 2125, 20 February 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)

CHAPTER IV.

Ten years have passed, and on the night of the 19th September, 1884, a British army lies near the river Alma in Russia. Standing with his arms folded, looking out into the darkness, is a tall, broad-shouldered man, with rugged features and keen piercing eyes. It is Hugh Ruthven. A.bout five- years after Elsie Miller's death, the old farmer had died, and his wife had not been long in following him. Hugh had stayed patiently at home with them until they no longer needed him, aud then, lotting the farm to his next to kin (for he could not bear to sell the home of his forefathers), had enlisted in the regiment in which Claud Morton was now major. Hugh had never changed or faltered iv his purpose of revenge on the man who had wrecked his cousin's life, and it was in the hope of fulfilling his deadly intention that he had joined the army. The stern, powerful private was an object of much curiosity to both officers and men. Performing the most trivial duty with remarkable care and exactitude, he came to be unusually trusted and respected by his superiors, and to be selected for many a task of difficulty and danger. Of the many vague ideas of revenge which ha I drifted through his brain, the favourite ne was to be near Claud Morton in act. on, and there to watch his chance, »n i to slay him with his own hand. On this evening as he stands alone he thinks, "At last! To-morrow we may meet the enemy. If we do his fate is certain. Strange how tired I feel tonight ! I must turn in, I think. Tomorrow !" Soon the weary soldier was] lying in a deep and heavy sleep, which, however, became lighter after a couple of houis, and he began to dream. He thought that Elsie stood before him, with the same wistful, pleading look which her face had worn when he last saw it. Robed in white, and beautiful beyond expression, she looked at him lovingly ana reproachfully, and then spoke. "Hugh you will not do this thing? Remember that I loved him before my own life, and let that make him sacred in your eyea. Forgive him for my sake. 'Vengeance is mine, said the Lord.' What are you that you should judge another ? Pray for forgiveness for your own sins, and ask God's help to forgive another." Hugh broke into sobs and tears, and stretched out his hands to the beautiful vision. "Oh, Elsie, Elsie, do not leave me ! I will do anything if you will only stay ! My darling ! my darling !" With a smile, unearthly in its sweetness, she aaid — "Forgive," and faded slowly away, and Hugh was roused by a comrade shaking him by the soldiers, and saying — 44 Wake up, man 1 WhVi what on earth it the matter with you ? You have

been moaning and calling out at an awful rate, enough to make one's blood run cold, especially in such a heathenish place as this is." The next morning orders to advance were given, and Major Morton's regiment was in the van. As he marched at the head of his men, Hugh Ruthven's figure was nearest to him, and Hugh's eyes followed his very movement. And soon on the opposite bank of the Rivur Alma were seen the Russhn troops, and the ever- memorable engagement of the 25th September, 1854, took place. Major Morton fought with a bravery which was only excelled by Hugh Ruthven's who, with his cap off, hair tossed back from his forehead, and eye? blazing, looked like a being from another world, and the foe everywhere gave place before him. Towards the end of the battle he i found that he and Major Morton were | alone among half a dozen Russians. Their position was desperate in the extreme ! Two of the enemy fell by Hugh 'a hand, and another by Claud's. Theu as they botli engaged a fresh opponent, Hugh saw that a third Russian was approaching Claiul in the rear, pistol in hand. For one moment the thought of revenge sprang up afresh in his heart. He had only to let things take their course. For a second he hesitated, and then leaving his own opponent, who speedily took ro bin* heels, he turned fiercely upon the Major's fret-h assailant. He was almost too late. The Riis j !an's hind was raised to take aim, when Claud turned. He felt time all was over for him, and felt in anticipation the sharp sting of the bullet, w hen a man mtei - posed between him and hi* enemy. At the same time the Russian Bred, and the ball entered the chest of the man, who stagged aud fell. With a mad cry, Claud sprang forward, and in another moment had fallen the Russian to the earth. The engagement was pretty well concluded by this time, and seeing a number of men of his own regiment appioaching, Claud hastily signed to them to advance, and then stooped to raise the brave soldier who had given his life for him. Tenderly they lifted him, and as he fixed his eyes upon Claud, the Major gave a start of recognition. He had not recognised Hugh before ; but now some chord of memory, was struck, and a certain scene came vividly before Ins mind. In an old-fashioned garden a girl was standing talking to a tall, plain- featured young man, who looked down upon her with an expression of love aud pride m his strange, lustrous eyes. The faint, sweet scent of flowers seemed to fill the air, and the whole place was lighted l>y the glory of the setting suu. It all faded in less time than it takes to tell it, and Claud said in a tone of unboundtd astonishment— " You saved my life !" With a painful effort;, but with the illumination of some great joy upon h*s face, the soldiei gasped — " I — did it for Elsie's sake ! S'no lovid- you ! My dailsng, I have forgiven him ! My God— forgixe me !" Then the eyea closed for e\er on earth, the life-blood rushed forth, and Hu^h Ruthven's short and troubled race was run. the r>D.

Sunflowers. — "I grow an acre of them every year, and ha\ c plenty of fuel for one stove the w hole year round. When cut in the right time the stalks, when dry, are hard as oak, and make a £ood hot fiie, while the seed-heads, with the seeds in, make a better fire than the best hard coal. The seed being rich in oil, will bum better and longer, bushel for bushel, than hard coal."— Correspondent Dakota Farmer. Dickexs's Earnings —In an article on the gains of authors, which has recently been reprinted in a number of newspapers, surprise is expressed that Dickens should not have left a larger fortune than £80,000. I have an impression th*\t Dickeus's total property amounted to nearly £100,000, but of that a considerable proport'on must have come from tho proffts of his readings. There is nr» doubt that Dickens m vie some very lad bargains with publishers in hia cany days, and I know that his friend Talfourd once calculated that during a period of five years he ought to have been receiving £10,000 a year for his works ; hut one cannot form any estimate of his total "gains" from literature by the amount of his possessions when he died. It must he remembered that Dickens himself made every shilling which he ever possessed, and he not only lived in a very liberal style for thirty years, keeping up a considerable estihment, and often travelling without much reg%id to cost, but he also brought up u large and extensive family. Slang. — Slang. profoundly considered, is the lawless germinal element, below all words and sentences, and behind all poetiy, and proves a ceitain freedom and perennial rank ness aud piotestautism in speech. As the United States inherit by far their most precious possession— the language they talk and write — from the Old v\ orld, under and out of its feudal institutes, I will allow myself to borrow a simile even of thoso forms furthest removed from American democracy. Considering language, then, as some mighty potentate, iuto the majestic audience hall of the monarch even enters a personage like one of Shaktv peio's clowns, find takes position there and plays a part even iv the statelet ceremonies. Such is slang or indiruitio >, an attempt of common him anity toesuipe from bild literalism aud o^re^s itself inimitably, which in highest walks produces poets and pot;n»s, and doubtless in prehistoric times g<ive the start to and perfected the whole immense tangle of the old mythologies. For, curious as it may appear, it is strictly the faame impulse source, the same thing. Slang, too, is the wholesome fermentation or eructation of those processes eternally active in language, by which froths and specks are thrown up. mostly to pass away, though occasionaly to settle and permanently cryrtallise. To make it plainer, it is certain that many of the oldest and solidest words we use were originally generated from the daring and license of slang. In the processes of word formation myriads die, but here and there the attempt attracts superior meanings, becomes valuable and indispensable, anfl lives forever. Thus the term right means literally only straight. Wrong primarily ment twisted, distorted. Tntergrity meant oneness. Spi' >; t meant breath or flame. A supercilious person was one who raised his eyebrows. To insult was to leap against. If you influence a man you but flowed into him. The Hebrew word which is translated prophesy meant to bubble up and pour forth as a fountain. The enthusiast bubbles up with the Spirit of God within him, and it pours forth from him like a fountain. The word prophecy is misunderstood. Many suppose that it is limited to mere prediction : that is but the lesser portion of prophecy. The greater work is to reveal God. Every true religious enthusiast is a prophet. — Walt Whitman, in the North American Review. Some months ago two Dutch factories on the bauk of the Congo, nearly opposite Boma, were burnt down with all that they contained. It has now been discovered that the two agents iv charge of these factories had set them on fire after purloining and selling all the goods in them. They afterward* drowned the negroes under their orders— six men and two women— in th« Congo, so aa to prevent them appearing as witnesses,