HORT STORY

Alexandra Herald and Central Otago Gazette, Issue 413, 14 April 1904, Page 7

HORT STORY

CUAfTXS I. All unconscious that Fate was follow* ing closely in her footsteps Minna Vandalmexe ran down the eloping lawn towards the boathouse. ' James,* she called, ' James 1' But the gardener of Biverside Cottage, among whose duties was that of looking after the young Udj's favourite skiff 'lris,'was too comfortably asleep under the shade of an elder tree to hear the summons. * James I—Oh, bother the mm!' added Minna to herself, stamping with pretty petulance the daintiest oi tan-shod feet. 'lf we are going to be inflicted with a call from Lady de Ssarles I intend to be a good mile down the river, before she arrives. Dad and auntie can entertain the old scandalmonger.' Without further deliberation Colonel Vandalmere's pretty daughter swung open the wicket gate dividing their grounds from the small wooden lsnding-s v <age, and went to the creeperovered boatehed, where a light, single-scull skiff repcs >d in solitary state. It was the work of a few minutes to fetch soul's, Scttl- cushions, etc, and then Minna Vandalmere was ready for that summer afternoon cruise which w>b to be the turning-piint of hj« destiny. 'Be careful, Miss Minna, dearie,' cried a guttural yet not unmusical voice from behind the adjacent briar-hedge. Minna glanced up and laughed. A tall, black-browed woman, of the gipey type, had sudden!j looked over the green • barrier.

*Oh 1 if s yon, is it, Moaa, with one of your everlasting warnings 1' she replied gaily, and she rested hex cars on the cool, green-shadowed water. The gipsy, who inhabited a small broken- do wn cottage, little better than a shed, not a quarter of a mils off Colonel Tandalmere'a grounds, oaly shook her head, while out of her slumbrous black eyes—full of the smouldering fires of her lawless race—beamed a steady gaze of pathetic devotion ai they rested on the muslin-gowned girl in the boat. 'No, no, dearie, I haven't got anything to foretell, but if s always best to have a care—to have a care,' she repeated. With one strong push Minna left the bank well behind. ' All right, Moaa, I'll have a care,* she sang out across the rippling water, and a few rapid strokes took her beyond the reach of Bomany warnings. Flitting all the energy of youth into her task she soon got some distance from Biverside Cottage, and many loungers in the punts moored up at intervals beneath down-drooping willow and ash trees glanced with lasy wonder at a girl who L could expend so mash unnecessary vigour when the thermometer was at 90 in the shade. In a while she was gently drifting through a quiet reach. Minna Yaudalmera made a pretty picture that glowing July afternoon. Her soft black hair was fastened in a loose , knot is the nape of her white uncovered neck, and only the tips of pink pearldecked ears peeped beneath the dusky halo which floated low over the smooth, broad brow; her rose-bloom cheeks took a deeper tinge from the exercise; her deep, black-lashed eyes sparkled; her lips parted in involuntary smiles of careless exhilaration! and aha sang in a low voice, as she rowed, the refrain of a drawingroom ballad:

' All along the met Where the rushes qui——* Suddenly Minna's low-voiced song ceased. How came the water in the bot- , torn of the boat P Of course, how careless of James—he had neglected to bale it out. She really ought to have found him, and not contrived to put the skiff, in trim herself. With ready adaptability to circumstance, Minna produced the tin mug in which her brushes were washed during sketching excursions and baled the water out. After working for a minute or bo she noticed that her efforts had been without result—in fact, the water seemed to be increasing J Swiftly she raised mats and footboard to discover if there was any unsuspected leakage, and—heavens! The water I—the water I With a silent inflow of water, the bottom planks sprang apart. In a couple " of seconds the boat settled under,

H and Minna was struggling at the mercy of the river. The capsizing of thedooat was so swiftly accempiished that the accident occurred without a witness, and as the great gates of the distant lock slowly opened, it sefmedas though for Minna, floating as she was exactly across the course of an ovteoming electric launch, these could be no escape. •Help! help!' With a supreme effort as she swirled in the rushing waters, Minna made this one

ft was heard I A leap— a splaah—sad just as the launch was abont to do its deadly work, a stroeg hand clutched the floating folds of the drowning girl's gown —one effort and the course was clear. The launch whined to shore as Minna, - inert aid mereifoUj unconscious, was deftly propelled towards the bank. A moment later she wae safe, with her rescuer bending anxiously ore* her. Oscar Bawdon, who had b sen spending a week at a riverside hotel, found himself awkwardly placed. What should he do with his fur burden P Take her to the lock-keeper's house t Ashe contemplates her face she gives a faint sigh—her eyelids quiver—o»6 long shuddering breath—and Oscar Bawdon has found new wonders in a woman's eyes 1 p ■ Where V she gasps faintly—'the boat? lon have saved me P The broken words were melody to the young man. •Yea,' he replied, with an effort at reassuring lightness of manner, aad wishing he could have retained her is his arms a little longer. 'I just heard your cry—and—and picked you out—that's all. ion are shivering. If yon tell me where yon live 111 wrap this coat round yon/ suiting the action to the deed, 'and take yon home as quickly as pcssible.' The man's masterfulness was delightful. With a faint blush rising to her cheeks as she encountered the unconcealable admiration in his grey eyea, Minna answered him. 'My name in Vandalmere— Minna Yandalmsre— my father is Colonel Vandalmere, and we live at Biverside Cottage just below ' 'I know {Biverside Cottage,' replied he, ith an an ceremonious iaterroptaoi tha u

A Eiver Goddess.

was excusable under the circumstances. We'll get down there in a quarter of an hour.' He helped her, dank aB she was, into his launch. In her dripping muslin, she looked like a new Galatea in her clinging draperies. It was dencedly awkward. ■Presently Minna was once more being swiftly borne along the river which had s j nearly endad her young life, and in less than the specified quarter of an hour they pulled up alongside the little landingBtage. Suddenly, just as Oscar Bi lon was helping Miona to step from the . unch, a blaok-browed face burst through the hedge. Mm sbood before him. 'Oh! my dearie, my little lamb!' she ejaculated, when she s iw Minna's state of disarray. But Bawdon did not let the girl stop beyond throwing a wry smile to the woman. Before many momenta had passed, Colonel Vandalmere waa learning detaili of the accident, while his sister. Miss Vandalaere—who had kept house for hipi ever since his wife's death about a year after Mima's birth—was busy upstairs wrapping her ,niece in hot blankets, and performing the other ministrations customary on such occasions.

'My dear sir, I—l don't know what to say—how to thank you!' exclaimed the Colonel, blinking away the moisture gathering in hw steel-blue eyes. < M?y I know your name ?' he concluded. ' Oscar B»wdon.'

• Bawdon—Bawdon P Oscar Bawdon? Djar me, what a strings coincidence! I suppose by any chance your father's name was not Oacar Paul Bawdon of Che —th Hussars?' •My father'e name was Oscar Paul Bawdon and his regiment was the —th Hussars, sir I* 'My dear fellow, give me your hand. Ossie Bawdon'e son saved my girl's life! Jove, sir, mho can Bay fate doesn't play rummy tricks at times. Where are you staying?' 'l've put up at the 'Grey Eel' for a month's boating and fishing and——' 'Well, my dear boy, either with or without your permission, James will take the cart, drive round and fetch your traps, and the 'Grey Eel's' loss shall be our gain. You spend the rest of your river stay with us. We absolutely decline to hear the suggestion of a refusal. Eb, Maria ?' At this print Miss Vandalmete entered the room, and in a few emphatic words her brother acquainted her with the facts of the case.

' Yes, I'm sure you agree that Mr Bawdon—Jove, sir Jove, sir! I must say Oscar; the ' Mr.' sticks in my throat when 1 remember Bawdon of the —th '.—that Oscar puts up here as long as he cas,' said the Colonel, who was in great spirits. Miss Vandalmere replied with gentle courtesy, although the shadow of foreboding entered her kindly eyes as the young man's eager inquiries respecting Minna betrayed something which a woman is quick to see. A myriad of troubled thoughts attacked her brain.

Suppose this new intimacy should end in heart-ache and dismay P Suppose that Love should seek Minna and find her out —Minna for whom life's sweetest story must ever be a closed page? Suppose that •

Her dark conjee tarings were suddenly interrupted by the sound of Oscar's voice. 'Thank yon, Colonel Vandalmere,' he said, 'I can only say I am delighted to accept your invitation—more delighted than—than—l can say. But if you'll excuse me for a couple of hours I'll jast go back to the 'Grey Eel' and give a tew instructions about packing and my letters.' Having bid his new friends a brief temporary •*!«—_. *\"%* burr'«d through the cool, Bhady hall into the glowing garden of flowers, and past the open curtained French windows of the room where he had left his future host and Miss Vandalmere. As he passed some mischievous vagrant breeze caught these words and wafted them out into the sunlight. «... a thorough good fellow, Maria I' - * Yes, Henry, but is it safeP Bemember, Minna is beautif ul!—Oh, think, is it safe?'

For a moment the golden haze of Oscar's happy dreams was clouded. Was what safe? he wondered. The words rang in his ears again and again. *ls it safe ?' * What could it mean P Chapter 11.

A fortnight had passed, and in the passing—as was evident to an anxious onlooker like Miss Yandalmere—had accomplished all she had feared and foretold. . >-

The man and this maiden, the rescuer and rescued, had learnt to find heaven in eaoh other's eyes, and they dallied joyfully with those golden quivering moments preceding love's confession. One soft-scented afternoon, as Miss Vandalmere was sitting in her boudoir, wondering if in any way the impending disaster could be averted, Oscar Bawdon made up his mind that the tantalising joyß of unconfessed devotion must ceasehe must lay his heart and his hopes at the feet of the girl he adored. He was pondering how best to speak to her as he strolled across the lawn to the cool, treeshaded nook by the river where Minna was wont to spend the glaring noon-tide hours. Now it chanced that she was dozing on a grassy bank beyond the trees. Her dusky hair slightly fell caressingly about her white neck. Bawdon stopped to gaza for the moment on the pretty picture. As he looked, Mona, the gipsy woman, came over from the hedge, and deliberately stooped and kissed the sleeping girl's brow I Then she crept away as quietly as she had approached, with a backward glance. Just as the unseen witness behind the tree was pondering on the gipsy woman's extraordinary devotion to the girl he loved, Minna dreamily opened her eyes. . Forgetting everything save the heartstory he yearned to tell, Oacar sprang from hiß place of concealment, and, kneeling down by her side, let loose his tonent of paaaion. 'Minna,' he cried, 'lcanont keep silent any longer.' 'What about?' she asked, a little Bbamefaced to be caught napping. •Could you care for mep' he said bluntly. ' Her fingers toyed with the gras 8 , and then shyly the night-black eyes were raised to his. That was enough. Strongly his arms closed about her, and—- ' Minna!'

From between the rose bushes appeared Colonel Vandalraere's face. It was drawn and livid. Minna started to his side.

'Daddy/ she cried, 'don't be angry. We—we—can't help oaring, yon know, and——'

«Im not angry, child,* replied the Colonel, • net angry with either of yon; It was only natural—but, Oscar, my boy, excuse Minna For a few moment's. I have something to say to her.' 2 £ln torturous suspense passed the time of waitiHg to Oscar's imagination. The very birds seemed to warble mockeries. Then came a light tread, from which the spring and elasticity of girlhood seemed suddenly to have departed—a rustle of the branches, and Hinna stood before him. Her face was dull—her voice was terribly level and toneless.

■ You mußt forget me,' she said. •Forget you.' he laughed excitedly, •ask me something possible 1 What is wrong P' «Oh, don't be cruel !* sh6 cried, putting her hands to her face. He looked in amazement. 'My mother is not deal, though I believed so.'

•Well—surely that's no matter for sorrow I'

_' She is confined in a lunatic asylum, a victim to homicidal mania, and bc—madness is my heritage!'

Chapter 111. It was some moments after Minna's tragic announcement before connected conversation became possible between these two. • But, dear heart,' urged Oscar, brokenly, • why must this part us P* Minna looked at him with heartbroken reproach in her eyes. •It must. Think of the tragedy of this ghastly shadow lurking over me. My mother is insane—so was her mother before her. It is hereditary. My mother, it seems, who married very young and went away to India directly after my birth, was very little older than I am when—when Bhe was attacked.' Oscar gathered her to his heart with a passion of devotion stronger than words. After a few moments Minna grew calmer. •I told dad that you would leave us tomorrow morning,' ' You send me away, Minna V •It is not I—it is not 1 that sends you away,' she replied sadly; •it is ' The end of the sentence was impossible. With a choked sob, Minna hurried through the Bunlight with grey ehadowß at her heart.

Oscar Biwdon stood dazad He felt like a man from whose grasp some fairy gift was melting away. A stealthy rustling of the tree-boughs—-a step—the indefinable consciousness of another presence. ' Sir!' came a voice. Oscar Bawdon looked up. It was Mods, the gipsy woman. In her eyes there was a carious light, and about her full mouth played hard lines of an unalterable determination. She appeared to be striving with some internal excitement. ' I have heard all,' she said, with startling abruptness, 'I have learnt what parts you and Miss Minna. Tell me, sir/ swiftly approaching Oscar and laying her sinuous brown hand on his shoulder, ' you love her ?' Oscar was too much immersed in the grief of the hour to resent this weird interference.

'Love her with all my heart!' he repeated. 'ls it not for her birth and worldly position that you love her ?' ' Ton are curious,' he laughed, a little annoyed now at the incongruity of a noveldweller questioning him on a matter where her interest seemed purely impertinent. But she went on; ' Strange help comes from strange people,' said she with mysterious significance. 'Wait!' A moment later Oscar was alone.

That last dinner at Biverside Cottage was a sadly formed meal, albeit those seated round the flower-decked table strove to hide their thoughts. Just as Oscar Biwdon was opening the door for the ladies to pass to the drawingroom, a sound from the open French windows attracted their attention. The curtains parted and Mona entered the room.

'I have something to say 1' she said simply. 'My dear woman,' cried the Colonel, ' come to-morrow morning, and I will hear you and help you in any way I can.' 'I do not want help—l have come to help you.' ' Me P' laughed the incredulous Colonel. 'Ybb.' ' Well, wait till the ladies have gone.'

-■By your leave, but they mast hear what I have to say. Miss-Minna, listen, and then—then—be as kind to her as you can.'

There was nothing for it but either to have her turned out or to hear her. She then continued:

'Nineteen years ago a young captain brought home his bride, who, a year later, gave birth to a dark-eyed baby-girl, fragile, and hard tc rear. When the little one was about six months old, the Captain and his wife were ordered to India. As she was such a frail wee flower, the babygirl had to be left at home in charge of the grandmother, whose sight was too weak and constitution too delicate for her to take much personal care of the baby herself. Therefore it was the elderly nurse, Bachel, who hed the task of bringing the little one up. One night Bachel, who was fond of the bottle, lay down with the little one in her arms, instead of placing the child in her cot. In the early morning the nurse awoke and found her heavy arm lying across the smothered baby's mouth. Bisisg in terror, she took the poor, wee, cold burden in her arms, she burried to the cottage of a gipsy friend whose baby was the same age. Bachel i bargained with the gipsy to change babies. The gipsy had no objection to her child being brought up a lady, and the living and the dead child changed places. When the Captain returned as Colonel—giving out that Mb wife was dead—he welcomed my child as his daughter.' ' Your child P' cried the Colonel. ' Have you proofs P' Mona nodded—handing him some papers. Minna walked towards the gipsy and kissed her, saying, ' Madness is not my heritage after all—l am safe—safel' | Gebtiexd S. Wbbsteb.

NOT PIOUS. The late Bichard Henry Stoddard's family physician and long-time friend, Dr. Daniel M. Stimson, is fond of relating the following anecdote of the poet.. While endeavouring to procure an impromptu meal for a number of friends after his wife and the servants had retired, Mr. Stoddard found a box of sardines. His somewhat vigorous remarks, ir spired by a sardine can's objections, to the 'open sesame' of a dull jack-knife, attracted the attention of Mrs Stoddard on the floor above. •What are yon doing?' she oalled down. 1 Opening « can of sardines.' •With whatP' 'A dashed old jack-knife,' cried the exasperated poet. 'What did yon think I was opening it with?' •Well, dear,' she said, dryly, 'I didn't 'exactly think you were opening it with prayer.' # Cauliflowers should, before cooking, be soaked for an hour in strong salt water, in order to take out the grubs.

Tom: '"Maud is going to give the Sunday-school Christmas-tree a lovely doll with real hair. Isn't it just like her ?' Nellie: 'lt isn't juat like if it has real hair.'

Mrs Buttercup: 'I wish I had a million.

Mr Buttercup: ' Thunderation, woman, haven't yon any business acumen P What do you want to stop at a paltry million for when yon can wish for a hundred millions jast as easily and with just as much prospect of getting it t No wonder we axe poor I'