CHAPTER XXX. THE FALSE LOVE.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XIII, Issue 28, 6 November 1885, Page 5

CHAPTER XXX. THE FALSE LOVE.

Simon was getting through the cold weather badly. He missed Tibbie, and he missed the fool. He had now to light his scrap of fire with his own trembling fingers, and to cook hiß morsels of food himself. He had do time to scold, no one on whom to vent in passion the anxiety of his mind, which feared he must yet be robbed, and live to die a pauper. Hi<* soul, too, was racked by the tortures of doubt as to his nephew's fitness for the trust which had been reposed in him. In the business of wringing money from his tenants he did not show that eagerness and ingenuity which Simon had hoped to find in him. He had proposed to grant a small piece of mountain land to a certain beggar woman, bo that she might build herself a house and live in it free of rent. Therp was an au lacity in this proposal which had terrified the miser. How was he safe in the hands of a person who could concpive and give ufctetance to such an idea? He could only keep watch over the doings of this nephew and agent, txertmg himself meanwhile to make amends by phonal economy, for any extravagance the young man might perpetrate. He had now reduced the co^t of his living very low, powder and shot being the chief items of his expenditure ; and larks and tbiushes, crows, and sparrows, were the dainties which supplied the absence of more ordinary food. Since Tibbie's disappearance he had not enjoyed tbe luxury of bread. The birds of the air and the roots of the earth were more than enough to s.tisfy his appetite. He ate but once a day, and the tire was allowed "to go out as soon as bis dinner had been coo<ed. l'his was a new plan of saving, for formerly he hid been used to have a fire, however small, at wrTlcb to warm his frail body in the winter weather. So now he suffered sorely fiom the cold, though that was little to Simon while he felt that he did his duty. He missed the fool even more than Tibbie ; for Con would not now be coarad within his doors, but would nevertheless come hovering about the place, peering in at the keyholes, and flattening his white face against the window-panes. Simon was ofu-n unconsciously an object ot close observation to the fool, who, with the strong fascination of hatred, would watch him unseen through some secret loophole ; but if Simon chanced to espy him, this irregular visitor woul I at once vanisn off into the woods.

While Tibbie and Katherine were making their way into the house Simon wab sitting in state in his freezing den, expecting the arrival of the new agent upon business. His pistols were beside him on the table ; for he never forgot that he was subject to a danger from the prseenre of his nephew. 'The fear of the fulfilment of the prophecy by Paul haunted him unceasingly, and made him wary in his dealing with this young man, whom be had admitted into his confidence. He never turned his back upon him for a moment, and never, during their interviews, moved from the table where tho pistols lay near his band. To-day he was sitting thus provided against danger, when Paul made his appearance — a good deal changed from that Paul of a fesv months ago, looking pale and thin, with restless eves, and a nervous and uneasy expression about the mouth. He looked as if the sun had not shone on him for a year. Hie dress, too, was more careless than it used to be ; and he appeared altogether as if thmg3 were far from well with him. The change did not escape Simon's eye, and he was pleased wi'h it. " The young man is taking a lesson from me," thought the miser ; " he is growing moie saving of bin pocket, and na >re sparing of his enjoyments. I see that I have but to be patient with him and he will yet turn out well."

Paul drew his chair to the opposite side of the table, and uncle and nephew set to work to do iheir business together. They made a 6tnkin£ contrast, though there was some likeness between them. Paul had bi« mother's fair skin and fair hair, an! was so far unlike the race of misers, who were of a swar'hy complexion. He had a broader forehead than had been the Hh ire of any of his forefathers • but he had the arched nose ot the Fiuistons, and the dark flashing eye, deep set under graceful brows. There was enough lucenens between the young and the old man to make a looker on tremble for what Paul might yet become.

Paul delivered over tho money which he had collected for rent, but the sum fell short of the misei's fxpectations. "So!" cued he in a pißsion, "I Ri-e that already you have allowe-1 yourself to be imposed upon. They tell you they cmnot pay. I ask them to look at me. In there a man on the property who lives with rational temperance except vouis If? Let them find you them nev,oryou and I must quarrel. If y>u will not deal fairly with them, somebody else shall do it, Kvety man who will not paymust quit tbe plaice. " You had better let them stay where thpy are," said Paul. "Good timo may conn 1 , and they m\y b'> enabled to meet your demand. Turn them out of tbecoun'ry and whereas the wealthier tenants to fill their place? You will find empty cabins, and no money at all."

" That is your ignorance,'' said the miser : " but I am willing to teach you. There are shepherds, Scotchmen, who would take the

whole mountain from ma at a handsome rent. Now, am I a man practicing self-denial in my own person— to make mormnus sacrifice for the sake of pampered beggars who, I doubt not, w:ll have their two metis in the dty? My plan is to get rid gradually of the poorest among my tenants. People have no right to live in a country which is not aole to support them. For the future I shall expect you to understand me in this matter. If the people will not pay you, you must send the people away." " t have no liking for the work, sir. I don't see bow I can obey you." " Then, sir, I don't see how you can expect to be my heir. lam not bjund to leave my little property to you. I have connections in England, wise, rich men, who look well to the increase of their store, and deserve a helping hanl on that acco int. To them shall go every penny I am possessed of, if you set up your ideas in opposition to mine.'"

Paul flushed, and turned pale. The time had gone past when auch a threat as this had no terrors for him. It was dreadful to him now, for the thirst for power had taken possession of his soul. It enraged him to think of those wise, rich men from England coming over here to plant, and to sow, and to build upon this land. He was convinced that he could rule the country better than they could, and it might be well to save thu many by the sacrifice of the few. Evil must be done in order that good might come of it. Paul swiftly argued thus in his own mind— that clouded mind which was no longer what it had been.

He was conscious of a falling off in his own mental powers.in his capacity for thought and feeling. The consciousness tortured him ; but he could not see where he had gone wrong ; nor discern any means by which he could become better or wiser in the future. He could not even think the matter out ; for his mind would not fasten on it, and all his moral perceptions were becoming hazy and dull. His memory was whimsical ; certain ideas passed away from it, like the mist of bteath from off a glass, while others enlarged themselvee, became distorted, and were not to be effaced. He forgot at this moment bis former desire to be independent of ihe miser, nis aspirations after hoses* i 'dustry, however meagre the reward. He thought no more of the plans which May had helped him to map out. lie remembered only that be wanted Tobereevil, and also that if he quarrelled with the miser, certain rich men from England would step into the inheritance which he coveted. Upon this one point his miud fastened its strength, and the fierce desire for possession took firm hold of his biain. He ptumised Simon that he would see about the matter.

"See about it in time, then," said the miser, "for you have natural disqualifications for your office, and you will need to work hard in order to overcome them ; but I will give you time, for we are a slow race in developing. As young men we are spendthrifts, and seem in danger of b^ing ruine 1 ; but time improves us, and we grow wise as we giow old. Scryou may go away now, and think over this matter of the Scotch shepherds. Hive a calculation made by the next time you come here, aad let me know how soou we shall hi ready for them."

Paul went away with slow step 3 and aching heart, knowinsr that he had bound himself to do work which hia soul abhorred, and yet feeling himself utterly unable to struggle with the unholy force which had thus dragged him into bondage. Having thus, a3 he believed, sold himself to evil, he shrank from the eye of the heavens, ana fiom the sal face of the land which lay bo sadly waiting for its deliverance. He was seized with a passionate desire to gloat over the old walls, wbich contained somewaere that treasure w uch was to make him master of everything that a man could covet in the world. As he went up the grand staircase the th tight of May crossed his mind, a vision of her imploring face arose before his eyes ; and for a moment, the madness of supreme anguish made him dizzy. What would she say when sho found he had fallen so low 1 But the throe passed ; and again he thought with delight oE thu miser's gold, then reflected with sudden wonder upon the condition of his own feelings, since this uew joy of avarice had more power to keep its bold of him than had sorrow for the pun of his love. Was it possible that M-iy had become less dear to him than she used to be / Hd gio nvtd at this thought, and almost declared to himself in his pas-iion tnat it must be so. If this were indeed the case, then must h" rus'i on headlong to an evil end. Was th s, indee i, a fate that wai pursuing him ? Mu^t fie 1 »v-» of Mty be thruat out of his ht_art l>y the pow- r of that curse which was already begiuning to work upon him? Ho leaned against tbe wall and hid his face between his hands. He was not fahe, nor had he tired of her tenderness bbc was still rare and holy and beautiful in hi 9 eyes ; but he only seemed to understand this, uot to feel it with hia heart, into w. i'h had come tbe gived of gold. He suemed to see her at a distance, whither she had retired slowly and cruelly, and against bis will. Longing would not bring her to him ; despair could not break down the banier which had erected itself between them. As be stood there, wrestling with aii agony such as he had never buffered before, her siddened eyes se.:me i to shine out of a cloud which was beyond and above him. His woe bocauvi intolerable, and he tried to dash it from him, hurrying upward through the chambers of the moulderiug mansion, and striving to revive within him all his old loathing of the race wbich ha«l dwelt in it. and of their treasure, which had made them what they wprc. These fierce efforts wast -d him, and be looked thin and worn as he wandered more tranquilly now, fr >m room to room. A happier thought of his love came uppermost m his mind, and an unutterable longing for her presence took possession of him. If she were only her<» to receive the coufehsion of his weakness ! With this better thought in hia mind, he looked up and saw Katherine. lhe place of this meeting wa< on that high, remote passage lined with goblin pre-ses, where, nut quite a year ago, tun mi^er had e«sa\ed to make a birgaiu wnh th ; peddler. I'aul had not seen it HinCH that evening wheu be had suddenly sickeucd with fiar and had fled from the spot, hoping to return never mote. Now his wanderings had unexpectedly brought him here again. Katherine had been looking out of the little window from which

he himself had gazed while the miser sorted his wares. The place was dim and ghostly ; and she made a striking picture with her white-clad shoulders and gleaming head lit up by the only ray that found its way into the twilight. She turned to him, smiling with genuine delight. " So you Lave come at last," she said ; " but how did you know I was here ?" " I did not know you were here," said Paul. " Ah, well, you see, I drew you to the place. I knew that you were coming to Tobereevil to-day ; and I thought I should ask you to take me home through these dreadful woods." " Certainly," said Paul, but be said it unwillingly ; for he had some expectation that May would come to meet him, and at this moment he felt feverishly anxious to be near her. If be could but see her just now, the barrier of reserve might be broken down between them. Now he could confess, could ask for help ; later his mood might change, so that the words he wished to speak would bo no longer on his tongue. "We had better go at once," said Paul ; "May is comine to meet me." * Katherine laughed. " You need not be uneasy about her ; for she is making cakes and she could not leave them. She would not risk the proper shade of brown upon the crust— not for the sweetest conversation that heart ever held with heart." "You wrong her," said Paul. ■' She can do much for thore she loves. " Who are they ?" said Katherine. '• May love anyone t The fancy makes me smile." " You forget that she loves me." Katherine shrugged her shoulders. " Does that idea really still bewitch your imagination ? You think May loves you ? It is so odd." " I remember that you are a lady," said Paul, "but you try my patience too much." "Do 17" said Katherine. " I admit that lam rather outspoken. lam not like her— calm, cold and proper. My patience is tried, f cannot quietly look on, and see one like you bound 'heart and soul for life to such an iceberg." * She was still leaning against the little window, with her head and shoulders framed by it. A stray gleam of sun had pierced the opening ; illumined her golden head and scintillating eyes ; put a carmine touch on her speaking lips, and a rosy curve of light round the rim of her peach y face. The white-furred shoulders stirred slightly, and the jewel at her throat quivered as if with feeling. Never was> an unlovely soul more enchantingly disguised. Paul stood opposite, wrapped in the twilight, leaning against one of the foblin presses. His face was stern ; but he btarted as a flashing look of homage was flung upon him, flattering from head to foot. Katherine went on without waiting for htm to recover from his surprise. " Ah, you think she is not an iceberg. Men are so easily deceived ! A few sweet words will keep you happy for a year— that is, while you aie suitors ; but ho«v will it be through life ? A selfish mate, a cold heart— freezing all the warm efforts of your own. One who can make cruel plans to fool you while you are her lover— what will Bbc be for sympathy after years have gone past ?" " What do you mean ?" asked Paul ; and his heart shook with terror of an evil far greater than anything he had imagined. "Oh, I have said too mucu ! Surely I have forgotten myself. Whispered words between friends ought to be kept sacred, ought they Dot ? lam sure you know that girls are apt to make confidants of each other ; but I forgot that you have known so little about women," Katherine sighed. '• I have already said too much. I will not be guilty of making mischief between you." "You are rather late with that resolution," said Paul. '• I am at a loss to know why you have ppoken so at all."

(7b be Continued.)