LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume II, Issue 122, 21 October 1874, Page 3

LITERATURE.

THE BITER BIT. By J. A. St. John Blythe. (Continued.') Chapter 11. I watched Berrington's proceedings with no little interest. There were many houses in the neighbourhood open to us, at which I frequently met him; but I could not detect any signs that he meant mischief. His attentions were harmless enough, as far as I could see, and in truth I was not much surprised. If, as the major had said, he flew at high game, there was not very much to attract him. Probably what there was would have been far too easily brought down for him. Mediocrity was the safeguard of most of the damsels in the neighbourhood, at least as far as men of Berrington's stamp were concerned. To my surprise, and, at first, rather to my disgust, I found Berrington inclined to seek my society. I had avoided him as much as possible ; but it happened soon after he joined the regiment that in some row, after mess one evening, he got his hand very badly cut with broken glass, and attendance to it forced me to see a good deal of him. After that he used to come to my quarters very often. I believe it was part of his tactics always to appear intimate with the quietest men in his regiment, and that he singled me out for that reason. I say advisedly that his doing so only disgusted me at first, for to give him his due he was a most agreeable companion. He was a man of no ordinary ability, and possessed an amount of information, on every conceivable subject, which I have never seen surpassed. He puzzled me not a little. I could not doubt the truth of what I had heard. I knew my informant was not a man who would have told me all he had done without good proof of the accuracy of his statements ; and, given that they were correct, there could be no doubt that Berrington was a selfish, cold-hearted scoundrel. Yet when I looked at him sometimes, and marked some lines about his face, I could hardly resist the impression that somewhere, underneath it all, were hidden passions both deep and strong; that he was a man on whom an awful retribution might descend, did he fall into the hands of the right sort of woman to inflict it.

Berrington had been with the regiment nearly six months, and was growing rather moody and discontented, I really believe because there was nothing in all the country round worth the trouble of marking out for destruction, when an enterprising spirit among us suggested we should celebrate the unusually fine mild autumn weather by giving a picnic. There was the regular stereotyped place about eight miles distant. A ruined castle, with highly eligible situations for timorous damsels to be seized with panics, and rescued by bold dragoons ; romantic woods for love making, and all that kind of thing; and plenty of shelter in case of rain.

I can't say any of us gave ourselves much trouble about the picnic, beyond issuing our orders. However, it passed off well enough, as such things go, and it was certainly a lovely day. I did really think, that afternoon, Berrington had, for want of something better to do, marked a victim. I saw him talking to her with an indefinable something in his manner which was new to me, and coolly watching how her colour rose, and I pitied her. The pity was thrown away. She was in no danger, though I dare say her little Iveart beat faster for some time after, whenever she saw Berrington. A large party of us, and he among the number, went on the colonel's drag. It was a queer place to get at. The castle was fully three miles from the high road, and approached only by narrow lanes, in some places almost entirely overgrown with grass. We rattled along these lanes, as we were returning home in the evening at a good pace; and the colonel, who was a splendid whip, brought his team out on the high road in magnificent style at a sharp trot, with, however, rather unexpected results. A few yards before us, as we swept on to the road, a lady was riding alone. I suppose, on the Boft turf in the lane, which ran likewise between very high banks, oar

approach had been inaudible, for at the sudden clatter with which eight pair of hoofs dashed out on the hard road, her horse started and plunged violently. The fair equestrian was far too good a rider to have her seat endangered thereby ; but in the scrimmage her hat fell off, and rolled into the ditch beside which she was riding. The colonel pulled up in a moment, and, before anyone else could move, Berrington was down and fishing for the hat. It was a task requiring no small caution and skill. The ditch was half full of muddy water, but the hat had caught amongst some brambles, and to recover it without pushing it down into the water Avas no easy matter. Berrington went to work with great care ; but it was necessarily an operation requiring some time, so we upon the drag had abundant leisure to contemplate the fair unknown. A very uncommon subject for contemplaplation she was. She looked about three or four and twenty, and, in those days, to find a lady riding alone, especially upon a very high-bred horse, was a novelty which not a little attracted lis all. She had a very fine figure and a very perplexing face. It was not beautiful, neither was it one of those faces which every one admires, even while admitting they have no claim to beauty ; but it was irresistibly attractive. The most remarkable thing about about her was her hair, not only from the fact of her sitting there bareheaded, but from its own intrinsic qualities. It wis the first tiling upon which your eye must fall on seeing her. It was at the moment coiled up as closely as possible ; but she had an enormous quantity, and its color was the deepest, brightest yellow I ever saw ; the nearest approach to orange I have ever seen in a human being's hair. " The yellow-haired ladye " she was dubbed in the regiment from that moment. 1 cannot define her face. Its attraction was not altogether of a pleasant nature; perhaps, because there was a great deal more power in it than is usual with women's faces, and that is rarel\ r attractive, at least to men. To me the most extraordinary thing was her perfect coolness and self-pos-session. To our shame be it spoken, every fellow upon the drag was staring at her as hard as he could stare. She knew it, too ; for in reply to some courteous expression of regret on the colonel's part, for what had happened, she looked up, and while smilingly deprecating his apologies, took a calm survey of the whole lot of us, but never a muscle of her face moved, nor did her color change in the least. Yet there was no brazen effrontery about her. There was not a trace of the manner of a girl rather pleased than otherwise at finding herself the cynosure of at least a dozen pair of masculine eyes. It was indifference, pure and simple. She cared as little as if we had been a set of tailor's blocks stuck upon the top of a drag. She sat watching Berrington's efforts with a half-amused smile, but without speaking, until an attempt of his to secure the hat very nearly resulted in his falling into the ditch himself. Then she exclaimed :

' Oh, pray take care ! You will be covered with mud if you slip in. Do leave it. I can ride home without it, quite well. I have not far to go.' But Berrington was not to be vanquished. After one or two more ineffectual attempts he succeeded in securing the hat, and advanced towards her with it in his hand. Then, as she seemed to see his features distinctly, for the first time apparently, I saw her start, and a sudden flush cross her face, leaving it in a moment very pale. I saw something more too: with the flush an expression flitted across it, which I could hardly describe. I only know it was the cruellest gleam I ever saw cross a human countenance. I don't think the others noticed it.

Berrington gave her the hat, saying, as he did so, "I do not think you will find it any the worse."

"Oh no," she replied, "I am sure not. But I am so very sorry to have given you so much trouble. It was very stupid of me to wear it, for it does not fit me well. However, if you would be so very kind as to hold my horse for a moment, I think I can tighten the band.' Berrington stood at the horses head, and there she sat, calm and unmoved, [deliberately tightening the band of her hat. He never took his eyes off her face, but she seemed as unconscious of his gaze as of ours, and I felt intutively he was making his calculations. At last the operation was completed, and then, gathering up her reins, with a few words of thanks to Berrington, and a somewhat stately salutation to the drag generally she started off at a brisk canter along the road before us.

Berrington was back in his place in a moment. ' Keep her in view, sir, please !' exclaimed more than one, ' let's see where she goes.' With a smile the colonel touched his team, and away we went after her at a spanking trot. She had clearly no objection to our knowing, if we liked, where she was going. She kept about a couple of hundred yards before us, for a distance of half a mile, then turned down a lane to the right hand, and stopped at a gate, which evidently belonged to a house we could see among the trees a little further off.

Then a whole chorus of questions burst forth. Who was she ? Where had she come from ? No one could answer. Had any one met her anywhere ? No, none of us had ever seen her until that afternoon, and no one one knew who lived at the house among the trees. The subject was still under hot discussion when we saw a country lad approaching, driving an empty cart. ' Pull up, sir, please!' exclaimed Fitzgerald ; ' perhaps we can find out who " the yellow-haired ladye is,"' The colonel complied, and Fitzgerald immediately assumed the office of spokesman. ' I say, my lad, can you tell me who lives at that house yonder, among the trees?' ' Ay, to be sure I can.' ' Who is it ?' _ ' Lawyer Fairleigh, to be sure. But it aint no good you're looking after him.' 'Why not?' 'Ho never sees no one.' ' Doesn't he ? Why's that ?' ' Folk say as he's touched in the head. May be. I'm sure I don't know. But since he's been living there not a soul has seen him, as I know.' ' How long has he lived there ?' ' Nigh on two years.' ' Does he never go out ?' 'No.' ' Does any one live with him ?' 'Ay.' 'Who?' ' His daughter.' ' No one else ?' ' None, except servants.' To be continued