CHAPTER XV.—(Continued.)

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XVII, Issue 33, 6 December 1889, Page 27

CHAPTER XV.— (Continued.)

" Then save a fellow-creature from sin, from sorrow, and from despair, such as you now know and feel ! " pleaded Annie. " Were you the most sinful ben? that ever outraged heaven, heaven is good I One act of Christian charity, such as I implore at your hands, may briQg upon your soul the grace of repentance, and then the grace of a forgiving God. Sive mcl You are still a woman — save me I " " Spake lower," hoarsely whispered the poor creature, " and mind what you spake at all. There is a guard upon the dour." "Tell me, good woman I oh, tell me one thing at least! In whose power am [ ? " " In the power of one that never yet used his power mercifully." " The man who is called the strange Man of the Inch ? " " Yes, asthore. It's in his hands> you are. 1 ' "Oh God 1 oh God I Oh ! if there is but a drop of compassion in you, let it melt and How for me. then I Oh woman, good, good woman 1 whatev< r is in the power of human gratitude to do, I will do for you in return. You say you have been sinful, and that you are unhappy. I will take yoa to my very bosam ; I will call you my friend, my deliverer, ray earthly saviour. I will," she went on rapidly — "humbly depuvliug on Him for help — I will teach you to hope in God I I will pour the balm of hope and, as far as I know how, of repentance, upon the canker of sin that you say is eating away your heart ! Yes ; by my prayers I will endeavour to reconcile you with heaven ; while wo live together in this world I will be the consoler and — for Piovidence ha° piven me the means to do it— the cheriaher of your earthly lot. Yes, yes ; and I will Boothe your death-bed when God calls you ; I will whisper into your dying ear the promise of that mercy irom your God which I now kneel to beg of you for mjself ! " The woman cla«pod her fingers in each other, crossed her hands over her forehead ami exes, and sobbed. "Oh, I see it!" pursued Annie, "compassion for a woman in misery is yet m your nature I You will — you will be my friend and preserver 1 " "Whist!" said the wretch, as she hastily uncovered her face. Tears, newly struck out of the rock — her own heart — trickled through furrows made by the wrinkles tli.it !-he had truly called untimely. As she raised her skinny finger 1o chum attention, her eyes fixed kindly, humaneiy, and, lr-uepd, almost with the expression ol the womanly protecticn for which Annie had pleaded, upon her unhappy young prisouer. " Yes, the hour of your thrial is come ! But, be of stout heart ; lift up your spenit", and pi ay the gcod God you believe in — " The woman stopped abruptly, and turned her eyes towards the creaking door. It was flung open, and the bug-bear of our talc stood within its threshold. "The time is conio to uso the paper that the Mayor of WindGap gave you," whispeied the woman suddenly. '• Retire ! " said the strange Man of 'he Inch, in a voice of stern and established authoiity. Ihe miserable individual he addressed did not seem to have the sh^ht^st power of daring to disobey his command. She quickly passed him and left the apartment. He closed the door. After the w\ i3pered hiut of her late attendant, Annie recollected that, since the day- not very lr>ng ago, indeed — upon which Maurtcen Maher had given her the document in question, she bad taken care to •keep it about her person. Now, while hdr heart throbbed almost to bursting, and while her eye remained ds if spell-bound upon the face of the abhorred individual with whom slit found herself alone, she confusedly searched fjr it. But, in her great agitation, as also in her womanly disinclination to manifest her actions, the poor girl's trembling fingers made a useless attempt. Her companion turned round and approached her. As he advanced she shrank away, «tcp by sLep.

" Now, beautiful Annie, do not sbun me in this way," he ttautl t whether in a tone of conciliation or of irony it must have been an experienced and a nice ear which could have judged. " This ifl certainly not a very elegant place to pay my respects to you in ; but it is by necessity, not by choice, that I meet you under its lowly roof. There was no admission for mo in your own houße ; I would not take the liberty of inviting you to mine, as it is a bachelor establishment, Tderefore, sweet one, we meet upon the first neutral ground nearest at hand. No matter where, since lat last enjoy the bliss of speaking with you;— of declaring to you how much I have suffered in the want of Buch an opportunity, since the first blessed day myeyei rested upon you. Or, indeed, as the good people about here Bay, my one eye,— though, perhaps, if it were necessary, I could show for your satisfaction a pair of them, rather good ones, too. And so, my darling little Annie "' ■' Man 1 " interrupted the girl, desperately, " dreadfal, though, let me tell you, not now dreaded man 1 dare not to come near me, If you would not trample upon my corpse ! " Her trembling hands. were still moving rapidly about her person. " Tut ! tut I my pretty queen I 'Tis a sin in yon, a mortal sin, to talk so. Leave death to old age and deformity, but speak of living, and of living only for happiness, while yo»r young, soft bloom Is upon you. Enchanting little Annie 1 lam not the soare-erow you have been used to think me. Come ; I can woo with smilea, if so yoa wish it, aa gently as any ,petit maitre " He seized her hand, and, rudely drawing her towards him, encircled her with his arm. A scream of direst agony and disgust burst from her. "Be calm, sweet girl, be calm 1 Zdo not intend to be rough or offensive. There, sit you down, and do not tremble so." Bather gently for him, he placed her upon one of the ricketty chairs, and took the other himself, at some distance from her. Annie glared at him, her eyes watching him with frenzied dread, while both her hands grasped the frail seat, aa if it conld have^baen a protection to her. " Yes, yes, I see it I " he said, modulatiDg his tone even to mosio, and evidently half amused at her very palpable disgust and dread ; " they have been frightening you with absurd stories of me, my little girl. I told you as much at our first interview.— Oh, to be sure, the old gabblers have put it into your pretty head that the good, reapeo* table devil (I always speak deferentially of everybody— 'tis a safe habit) and myself have been ' Hail fellows, well met.' Yet, faith I I don't recollect the exact spot of ground, or the exact ship, or even the little drinking parlour, in which we have ever yet eat dotra together. One thiug, however, Ido frankly admit. — I am, by nature, the adorer, the slave, the humblest, the most abject slave, of woman's beauty. It ever has ruled, it now does, and it ever must rule, my lot on earth. Aye, and if there be another, and a happier, and a pleasanter world to cooe, in that other, too. Come, dearest Annie, and I will call you sensible Annie into the bargain, because 1 know everybody gives you a character for understanding and intellect beyond your years ; but, come ! As one of the most fearful things about me, have they not told you that one-half of my vistge ii demonaically frightful ? of a certain mark upon this cheek which JOU have not yet seen ? Beautiful Annie, need I tell you that I can refute all their gossip, as I now do their nursery taleß— upon thit score. Look, my little giil ; do look at me, and ccc if the mark of the deril's claw be really visible to your maiden eye." There was a smile cf male coquetry upon the now unclouded face of the strange man, as he fully unveiled his features ; nor was the smile wanting in stern fascination. Gashes certainly appeared, though at present cicatrized, upon his hitherto disguised cheek ; but none that could not be accounted for by fair encounter on the battle field, nor reconciled with a general impression of manly btauty. At a somewhat younger age, and without a wound, the strange man's countenance must have been strikingly handsome. As he playfully twitched off his black handkerchief, the poor girl's nerves quivered almost to madness. So confused and enervated was her Btate of mind that Grace Carroll's late anecdotes had real power over it, and she could not help expecting to see upon the half of his face hitherto shut up (like an awkward wing of an old house that is not to bo let with the rest of the premises), the fearful marks which her poor maid, nay, which even the strange man himself had hinted might bo found stamped upon it. All feelings are, in their strength, relative ; and v, hen, on looking timidly at the face before her, she discovered that there *vas nothing very terrible in the appearance or expression of the whole of the straDge man's features, she certainly experienced a little relief. " Well, Annie, after all they say, am I, or am I not, a proper man enough ? " And as he smilingly said this he again approached her ; for even the slight change in her sensations did not escape his practised observation. But anew her agoniea returned — nay, became augmented. Hep hands suddenly ceased their rapid and nervous search, and she clasped them tightly together, as, in deep despair, she muttered to herself — . v " Gone, gone, gone — and my laßt hope with it I " What iB gone ? What do you mean by that pretty phrase, my sweet Annie 1 " He still moved his chair ; she had pushed hera close to the wall. The smile and glance accompanying these words produced through the poor girl's frame that spasmodic affection of disgust, which might have been inspired by the sudden and near appearance of a loaihsome reptile. " Have mercy oa mcl " she cried, dropping on her knees and crouching before him. " The rather do I ask you to have pity on me> he answered, stooping to lift her up. Sue pprang to her feet from the touch, screaming forth wildly :—: — " Touch me not, villain— touch me not I lam not weak nor unprotected, although but a girl, and alone with you. Heaven is my strength and my protector— and will be your punisher I" Again she shrank away as far as she could from him. The Btrange man's softness changed into swift mockery— indeed, all through there had been beneath it an under-current of the same.

"Ha! ha!" he scoffed, "by the rood, I think I am stepping back into my boyhool, when it used to be my silly creed that smiles and tears alone, to say nothing of knee-bending, were a woman's persuaders. Hal ha! — vanity, vanity I oh, dear vanity 1 thou art the last foible to abandon us ! — Yes; some folly whispered to me that, forsooth, I ought to try and coax you into good humour. Well, no matter I—but,1 — but, as the old saying goes — ' The old fool is worse than any. 1 So, once more we change tack, my brisk little beauty. By heavens ! I love to grapple, either in war, or in love, with whatever promises, by a good, courageous struggle, to make victory the sweeter I—Up1 — Up with speaking-trumpet first, however, before broadBides and hangers ; and so, listen to me, Annie Kennedy. First, I love you ; — aye, more than ever I did girl or woman — excepting one girl, a long time ago, who can now make no question between us ; — or, at least, no question to my disadvantage. But that is not all. — There is yet another motive which urges me to sue you thus. Your father and myself were, ence upon a time, very dear friends, and " " Oh God I" interrupted Annie, " my father and you friends 1 — How, then," — and she could utter no more. " How, then, does it follow, you would ask, that I see any reason to wish to make his daughter, also, my dear friend — aye. and upon my own terms ? — I have taken the question from your own sweet lips : thus do I answer it. Annie Kennedy, it is exactly because your father and I were such very dear friends that your father's daughter is here to-nigbt." " If— you knew him so well, who was my father ?" A.nnie panted, seeking rather to prolong a subject that kept her persecutor from her — even a few moments — rather than from any other motive. " Who was your father ?— Who is, you mean ? — Wby, what silly question is this ? — Who but the man who, very naturally, has brought you up ; the man you live with ; the man from whose house I have entrapped you hither." " He is not I—lI — I know he is not I — You but invent the falsehood for some purpose of your own." "Not I, forsooth I" lam sure of what I say. Connor Kennedy iff your father. Though so closely was it his practice to keep his little amusements, that neither I nor asy one else can bint to you who your mother may have been. Ay, and that same Connor Kennedy once was the dear friend I have spoken about 1 A reotile 1" — continued the strange Man, suddenly bursting iuto passion, and stamping on the clay floor, while his brow became knitted into a black frown, bis cheeks pale, his eyes flashing, his lips fiercely curving, almost frothing — " A reptile I—First1 — First a low, mean, crawling reptile — then a slimy, wriggling, slippery, evading reptile — lastly, an ungrateful, base, dastardly reptile I Who, while he was nurtured Acre— here on my heartland while I slept — trustingly, happily slept — stung me, right over that very heart — ay, shot and spat his own very veuom into it, till its core and veins became poisoned — poisoned into a circulation of liquid running, fire — poisoned into rage — into madness — into detestation of its fellow-hearts — until at length, it can feel no joy buc of that revenge upon him, in something like the fashion of wrong for wrong — measure for measure," He strode up and down the small apartment, as might a yet untamed tiger ia his new cage. Annie was horrified into absolute silence. He suddenly stopped and looked upon her : his featuiej changed into a different, though a not less repulsive, expression as ho I went on — " You have heard me, Annie Kennedy! — Your father was that vipei to me. After heaping kindness upon his head — aud — idiot that I was — casting mv heart's affection upon the heap — he robbe 1 me— nieaiily, treacherously robbed me of the woman whom, in early youth, 1 lovi d better than my own soul — and who, had he permitted her to become mine, might have hw.iyed and softened that soul into something good among men — perhaps saved it for a hereafter I— But tush, tvsh — no matter now 1— We are quits at last ! — You, girl, stand before me — /;/.s- daughter — Connor Kennedy's daughtei ! — Ay, an i by Heaven, full as beautiful, and 1 believe as pure, as her of whom he plundered me." The girl's shrieks arose in irrepressible agony and terror. "The paper, the paper" — whispered a voice close at her ear. Despairing and agonised as she was, Annie could, with a glance, ascertain that the voice came through a chink in the slight and frail wail, or rather partition, at her bick. (Jod help me ! I have it not I" — she answered, aioud. — And then her poor shrieks continued, piprcing up higher and higher. The rullian held her in his grasp. Her delicate attire became ducomposed ; her neck despoiled of its tragile covering. By a touch of her own quivering hands, she asceitained this tact : and, in her glance downwards, further discovered a sealed paper, half protruding from beneath her corbet. — One moment's strength she was able to summon up : — nerved by it, she hurled her assaulter same distance from her ;—; — snatched the now fully recognised document from its hiding place ; stretched it forward to him at arm's length ; and, panting and gasping her words, said — " Here — read this — it is for you." Surprised, he plucked it from her hand. She crossed her arms over her bosom, and, sinking against the wall, stood tremblingly with distended eyeb and parted lips, watching him. It has been noticed that there was but one feeble taper in the miserabla apartment. To this he went ; broke the heavy and rude Beal of the letter addressed to him and began to peru&2 it. Annie's eyes devoured his movements, and the expression of bis features. The talisman was in his hand. — For good or for evil to her? — She saw him start — frowo— change colour : — look amazed and battled — angry and turned — incredulous and shaken. Twice he read the writing, then shouted out fmiously " A lie I—a1 — a he, by the Heaven? — Who gave you this?" springing back and scowling upon her. She was about to pronounce her old friend's name. But although MBurfeen Maher had not formally bound her t) Becrecy — nay, although, in a jocose way, he had told her to give his compliments'

with the letter, to the strange man — still, a generous fear of evil result to him, at the bands of so desperate a character, checked he* tongue, and ihe faltered that she would not reveal who was the writer. " What !— refuse to yield up the author of this annoying fal*e> hood ! — Do you not fear my vengeance ?" " No ; I dread you now in nothiog I" — she boldly answered.— " For, attempt to deny it as you may — the paper tells you truth— and you know it does— and lam safe I— And I defy you— -And the exhausted girl sank down at last. The ferocious, as well as Btrange Man, after looking at her scrutinisingly, and finally with somwhat of real kindness, seemed moved at least, by her words and manner,— if indeed they had not convinced him of the assertions of Maurteen Maher'a epistle. He muttered aside — " By the eternal word 1 That speech was not like the daughter of Connor Kennedy and some unknown obscure peasant — " He placed his hand upon a chair ; raised it up slowly ; put it down again, in the middle of the floor. Upon it ha seated himself, his hands hanging by his side ; continuing to gaze attentively, if not respectfully at Annie. She still crouched upon the ground : powerless, but not afraid, before him, while her white arms were still closely folded over her neck. After a pause, he arose ; pushed open the crazy door, and called loudly into the other apartment—" A glass of water here." Immediately Annie's late attendant re-entered, with the beverage he had demanded. " Ask that young lady to taste it," he continued : " and, hark ye, place her cloak round her shoulders, and seat her as comfortably as you can upou the bed-side. " " I will sit up," said the girl, "if I can. But not if you approach me." "Do not fear me. I will not touch you now," he answered in a tone which she could not understand, but which, nevertheless, filled her with confidence. With the assistance of the woman, Bhe was, however, soon disposed of at her ease, comparitiv"ely speaking. " Leave us again " — commanded the strange Man : as before, his vassal hurried out of the room. " Let her gtay— let her stay," petitioned Annie. " No, if you please. For I now wish to interchange a word with you, which no one must overhear. She is, however outside this door, and a loud sound of your voice may call her.— Be calm, therefore, I entreat you ; — and wben I do entreat you, be aesured you may be calm. — You told me a while ago that you were not Connor Kennedy's child. What grounds have you for saying that ?" " His own assertions," answered she— '• which I take as the truth sooner than those of any other living creature." " Hum— that is nothing ; — nothing at all. Be has not told you who really are your parents ?" ' " No ; I know not, from any source of information, who are my father and mother. But lam sure that Connor Kennedy is not my father — and I am also sure that if you knew my father, as you assert, you must have known my mother too. Therefore, this may give us both information on the subject." Still nervously trembling she undid from her neck the ribbon which sustained tne miniature-portraits of which mention has before been made, and handed the locket to him. Again he hunied to the taper ; again he became passionately and wildly affected. After some time asked her, in a mucj subdued tone — '• And from whose hand did you receive this?" " From my mother's— on her dying bed." " You speak tha holy truth, now ?" " 1 do— to the utmost of my belief and knowledge." " Well, that ia enough— that must do "—He again fixed his eyes upon the locket, thoughtfully and wonderingly, turning it from side to side.— He paused — he sighed— he smiled— he laughed.— He rose dclibciately. muttering— " a strange, strange world." " Girl, lam cheated out of my revenge for the present ;" he said. Though, perhaps, not quite that, neither. Let us not conclude too hastily ; we will look into this affair. And even if my dear revenge does escape me in this shape, thera may be another road to an old — a lone-hoped object." Annie w-^s left alone— she had scarce leisure to return thanks to heaven when the old woman reappeared before her. " The paper makes you ea9y for the present " — she said — " God grant that things may turn up so as to keep us both quiet for the time to come." Tears were again in the unhappy creature's eyes. Annie threw her arms impulsively round her neck — laid her head upon her sinful shoulder, and cried plentifully over the beatings of her Binful heart. {To be contimied.')