LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume III, Issue 235, 11 March 1875, Page 3

LITERATURE.

NAVVIES’ TALES. THE PINK HEATH. ( Continued.) He was very weak yet, but recovering, and after one glance at the dog Dan’s eyes followed his and fixed on the face of Frederick Booth. It was an awful face, awful in its terror and in its rage, as he listened to the animal’s dangerous growl, and recognised the awful ferocity of his eyes, 1 1 thought that brute was dead,’ the said, as Dan stooped to caress the pleased animal. * He’s worthy twenty dead yet,’ said Dan. * Ain’t you poor poor boy ? He’ll see a good many floored yet, though it was a bad smash he got, won’t you old chap ?’ ‘ I told Tom to shoot him a fortnight ago, when he got a kick from one of the horses, and his back broken.’ ‘ No, his back’s not broken,’ returned Dan, as he gently lifted the animal in his arms, and then set his keen eye steadily on those of the young man. * I wonder you don’t take a greater interest in poor Towzer, young man. Wasn’t he a great favorite with the poor young lady you were so fond of ? Did it never strike you he might ha to got this hurt in trying to defend his mistress ?’ ‘ Defend her,’ he repeated, in a mechanical sort of way, and in a husky whisper, as though his throat were gripped by dead fingers. * You think she’s dead then ?’ * Dead ! yes!’ and Dan passed to the house, Towzer making a fierce effort to seize his enemy as he passed near him. Dan laid the animal gently in the comer of the room, and placed himself in a chair near him. How much he thought depended upon the animal’s instinct was evident in the watchful care he had over him. Did he think it anyone’s interest to destroy poor grey Towzer? Tea had been brought in by Jane, and been partaken of by Dan and Fred Booth in almost silence. The detective’s face was as unreadable as a mask, and as the young squatter watched it furtively, only fear could lead him to think that it hid a purpose or a secret; but he felt deeply anxious to know what was this business at Narraburra, and it was soon to be revealed. Dan had resumed his almost interminable pipe, and Fred stood at the window and gazed down at the darkening bush that hid the boundary fence, when suddenly a door opened, and Mr Edgar appeared, with a white face, a wild eye, and a tottering step, that rendered the assistance of the door-post necessary to his entrance. He looked at his nephew momentarily as the young man turned at the opening of the door, and then at the stranger seated silently opposite, and quietly puffing blue clouds of smoke into the air around him. While Fred had been looking from the window, Dan had drawn the bit of pink heath from his pocket, and was holding it before him, and examining it with an apparent careless curiosity. Ah ! Dan Scully was a great actor! Mr Edgar’s eyes wandered from the strange face he had forgotten to that spray of a withered flower, and, as his eye rested on it, it lightened up with a great joy. *lt is Minnie’s ! ’ he cried, starting forward and gazing at it with childish weakness, ‘ltis my Minnie’s! Have you found her?’ Dan rose from his chair and placed the trembling man in it gently. _ Edgar was very weak, and yet wandering in his mind, which was now recalled to the subject of his lost daughter by the sight of the pink heath of which she was so fond. ‘ I don’t know where she is,’ he murmured weakly, as he was seated by Dan. ‘ Fred, where is Minnie ?’ Fred Booth was ash-coloured to the lips—how could he answer that terrible question ? Dan looked at him steadily as, failing in strength to stand and meet the father’s asking eyes, he sat down helplessly and in silence. It was too evident that Mr Edgar was totally unfit to be out of his bed, so, with some difficulty, Jane persuaded him to it, and the detective and Frederick Booth were once more alone. It was getting darker every moment, and in the distant bush the trees were commingling themselves in shadow, and the far hill outlines were lost in the darkening sky. You could still see the white track of the sinuous boundary road that climbed up the near hill, and the still nearer home paddock was quite distinguishable. The young man sat still where he had sank, with a bowed head and livid face, when a sound fell upon his ear that stopped every pulse in his wretched body in one instant. It was a well known sound—a sound of measured horse’s hoofs upon the grass and a jingling of steel accoutrements. He rose up desperately and looked out of the window. A mounted trooper was riding up to Narraburra. Dan heard it too, and knew what it was ; he had expected it. He rose too, and just as he did, Fred turned, like a hunted thing, to the door, but Dan was between him and it. There was not a word spoken, but the miserable young man read his fate in Dan’s eyes, and shrunk as though he had been struck. Yes, like a flash he saw it all—the spray of heath in Scully’s hand, and the awful story in the strange man’s eyes. ‘ Let me pass,’ he said, in a whispered gwp*

«You cannot pass,' replied Dan; and at that instant the door opened and the trooper entered. 'This is your prisoner,' said the detective, pointing to the wretched young man, who shrunk hack from the pointed finger as though it had heen a weapon ; but no sooner did the trooper advance, as if to take possession of him, than the very extremity of his position seemed to urge him to desperation. His face flushed scarlet, and he dashed himself franctically against the opposing body of the detective in his attempt to leave the room. ' Let me out, I say! How dare you attempt to control my movements in my uncle's house ? Villain ! the consequences be on yourself !' and all the strength of desperation was put forth against Dan Scully. Meanwhile poor Towzer had crawled from the corner, and his fierce growling directed, not against the stranger, as might have been expected, but against Fred Booth, increased the terror of the scene ; but it was soon over, the trooper lending his assistance, and in a few seconds Fred's hands were helplessly fettered. ' What is it for?' he at last gasped, faintly, his eyes fixed wildly and appealingly on Dan Scully. ' You have nothing against me.' ' You are arrested for the murder of Minnie Edgar,' said Dan, * and we have her own written words against you. On the evening previous to her murder, you threatened to kill her because she refused to marry you, and she wrote down that threat in the letter she had been to give the mailman when you waylaid her in the bush, and murdered her at that bush of pink heath. See !' and Dan held out the withered spray toward the awestruck being ; 'her very blood is witnessing against you; and the dumb friend that saw you commit the crime, and whom you tried to kill also, would witness in words against you, too, if he could.' It was true. On the under side of the heath spray was a heavy dash of blood that had dripped down over the stalk, and left its fearful stain, dried and suggestive, to tell the story to the acute detective; and over all the little heath bush where Dan had picked up the broken spray, were the same terrible red stains. * You carried the poor girl down to the creek,' continued Dan, ' and sunk her in its deep waters, just at that spot where to-day you stood and looked to see if the corpse had arisen to give witness against you ; and then you went back to the place of your crime, and covered up all the signs of the poor victim's struggle for life, but you forgot the heath bush.' While Dan was speaking, the murderer's eyes never left the detective's face, and his own grew whiter and whiter to the end. Wretched being! he saw the joyous girl creeping through the fence, and he watched her fight dress fluttering through the bush to her doom, as Dan spoke. He saw her stoop to gather the spray of heath that Scully held in his fingers, and he felt the bound with which he was on her, and the blow which had struck her down ! He carried the helpless mass to the spot described by Dan, and he saw again the white face that slowly disappeared under the water, and the bubbles that rose where it had been. My God, my God, would he ever forget it ? Raising his manacled hands up to his face, with a choking cry of despair and remorse, Frederick Booth fell back into his seat near the window and answered nothing. He spoke no more. Dan had arranged his plans, and decided that the murderer should not be removed until the creek had been dragged, and the corpse recovered. He had had great experience with criminals, and he had vivid hopes that Booth would make a full confession when he saw the utter hopelessness of denial. So he and the mounted man whispered together, and decided how it should be, and Fred sat rigid and still as a statue, staring out of the window with eyes that saw nothing. They spoke to him, and told him he was at liberty to take some rest when he pleased, and that a shakedown would be prepared for him on the sofa, but he heard not a word of the many they reiterated, and made no sign ; so at last they made themselves comfortable, and left him alone. The moon crept up, big and round, and Fred's eyes saw that, for it rose above the very bush where the pink heath grew. It was glistening now on the hidden creek, and long shadows were cast across its silvery bosom by the rustling trees near the boundary fence. How dark it would be in the dense shadow of the bank where she lay! How awful in the darkened forest where that heath bush was spotted with her blood ! To be continued.