LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XX, Issue 1418, 31 August 1878, Page 3

LITERATURE.

EDNA’S TROUBLES. ' ( Concluded .) * What is it, Burns ? ’ she asked, without looking from the glancing knitting-needles in her hand. ‘ I dinna ken, Miss Ruth, unless it be a woman frae the skies that dropped in my arms. It’s weil they are stout, for she’s heavy-like, though an ilka thing,’ Burns coolly added, depositing her burden suspiciously on the sofa The astonished Miss Ruth sprang to her feet with an alacrity that sent her ball of yarn to the opposite side of tho room, and left her work pendant on tho corner of the work-table beside her, * Poor thing ! poor thing! ’ she sighed, leaning over Edna’s inanimate form, her helpful Ungers fingers actively busy. ‘ Chafe her hands, Burns, while I loosen her cloak. What a beautiful girl she is ! Quito a lady, I am sure.’ > Burns set to work, her tongue keeping time to tho operation, ‘ Now, Miss Ruth, I’m the oldest servitor of this old house of the Neals, and you must list to me. Pinna be running daft. You ken naught o’ this face, though it be sweet, and I pray you to be careful. What good did you ever know o’ these night Hampers ? Leddies don’t go abroad in this fashioncoming down on decent folk in the dark without word or warning, Duma forget tho pair weak auld woman who sped awa’ on a mon’s legs wi’ a dozen o’ the auld Neal spoons i’ her gown pocket.’ Miss Neal, actively engaged in efforts to restore Edna to consciousness, suffered Burns to run on to this point, which was, in truth, a very sore one. ‘ Hush ! ’ she at last interposed, ‘ cannot j you see that the poor little thing is a lady ? I I’m ashamed of yon, Mary Burns ! There’s some mystery of course; but I daresay she will explain it.’ But Edna, though unable to give sign, had heard. Opening her eyes on the tall figure, with its stiff angularities, erect as an old grenadier on duty, behind plump little Miss Ruth Neal, she intuitively comprehended that she was an object of suspicion. The serene kindly face of Miss Ruth was, however, a gift for which she was thankful, and with a few faltering words she attempted to rise. ‘Thank you, I am quite well again.’ ‘Not quite,’ returned Miss Ruth, a low, pleasant laugh rippling over her lips at the ineffectual effort. ‘Lie still, my dear young lady. Burns shall get you a cup of tea.’ ‘ How good you are ! ’ impulsively cried Edna, as the door closed on Burns. And she caught the slender hand that was bending over her, and drew it to her lips. Miss Ruth’s heart bad pulsated through fifty odd years ; but it was still a very soft one, and Edna slipped at once into its softest niche It was utterly impossible to look at that taking face, and not believe in it. The keen-witted Burns, on returning with the tray, quickly perceived the impression made on her mistress : and as promptly commented upon it when again out of hearing. ‘The Neals war a, alike,’ she grumbled in her broadest Scotch —as was generally the case if put out. ‘Shake them a’ thegithcr i’ a bag, an’ you’d ne’er ken ane frae anither, unless Miss Ruth might fa’ out the simplest o’ a’! ’ But Miss Ruth, unconscious of Burns’s depreciative opinion, answered Edna’s regrets, and apologetic remark that her journey would be resumed early tho next morning, with a cordiality which would have doubly exasperated tho waiting woman, It must, however, bo admitted that Edna—after mentioning as her name tho abbreviated one of Miss Ivesly, which being merely a baptismal name nobody had ever heard of—fell into anxious thought. She felt that she was expected to explain whence she came, and a few more personal items—and she could not. ■ She is so young,’ thought Miss Neal. ‘ I fear I ought to press her confidence for her own sake.’ It was yet early in the evening when Miss Neal conducted her guest upstairs. ‘ I hope, my dear,’ she said, as they exchanged good-nights, ‘ that your rest will not be disturbed. I am iu hourly expectation of the arrival of my nephew, who promised me a visit—and it is somewhat rare, I get one from him—so if you hear a stir you will know what it is. And in the morning you will toil i;s your story ; we will advise jmu for the best.’ But this was just what Edna was afraid to do. Faint, despairing, she began to lay plans for quitting this house, as she had quitted her own. Mentally and physically exhausted, Edna lay down on tho bed, only taking off her shoes and dress, in the midst 1 of which she heard the arrival below, and j presently Miss Neal came upstairs, followed by a manly step. ‘ I am sorry you think I have done wrong, I dear,’ she was saying ‘But, indeed, Burns ought not to call her a ‘ night tramp.’ You are tired, so I’ll say no more: but in the morning wo will insist upon the young person explaining herself. Good night, my lad ; you’ll sleep well. ’ With trembling anxiety Edna waited for an hour or more, and then rose. The words had scared her Miss Neal seemed to bo a very proper kind of person, and no doubt she and this stern nephew of hers would deem it right to send her back to Mr T.ydeU. I At any risk she must escape that. Lighted j by the decaying tire and a brilliant moon, she made a hasty toilet, and was soon standing without her room, prepared for another flight. Oppressc4 by a nervous dread of she hardly knew what, detection being uppermost, Edna paused a moment to listen. But profound silence reigned over the cottage ; her boots were in her hand, and she gave no sound as she groped her way downstairs. I Whether she could get away she knew nob I That there was a back door to the house she had beard through some colloquy between Burns and her mistress, and she endeavored to find it. The open door of the kitchen gave 3 firth a glimmering light from the decaying fire, and Edna gained the door and peered closely at it to see its fastenings. Only one heavy bolt. Her trembling hand was about to push back this bolt when a footfs.ll in the kitchen warned her of danger. There was no time to lose ; and in a moment she had slipped into a closet just beside her under the stairs, the door of which her anxious eyes, now !

0 grown accustomed to the semi-darkness, is discoved ajar. e She had barely entered when the footstep - came forth ; its owner pushed the kitchen f door to and made for the stairs. All might 3 have gone well, but for an awkward moves'’ ment of Edna’s. She came in contact with e what seemed to be a basket of clothes pegs, e and they came down with a tremendous 1 clatter. 1 _ ‘ Them rats again 1’ ejaculated Burns, a irascibly—for she was the night-walker, i Back she came to the closet door. > ‘ The door open !’ cried she in surprise. > ‘The uncanny things can run in and out. I’ll > fetch a caudle and the poker.’ Turning the key in the lock, away went > Burns for the poker. Would there be ! murder committed. ; With heart beating to suffocation, Edna prepared for the encounter by drawing the i hood of her waterproof more closely about her face. She felt like one in despair. Very soon Burns returned, bent on the slaughter of the rats. Her hand softly touched the key. It turned; the lock snapped ; but ere the door could bo moved by the cautious Burns, Edna, hooded and veiled, threw herself against it with all her might, at the same time uttering a low guttural sound in her own great terror, which was followed by her onset. And it all proved too much for Burns. Instantly she lay a discomfited heap upon the floor, candle and bravery extinguished. With swift fingers Edna unfastened the back door and darced out, intensity of dread winging her feet as she fled from the place. As the door swung behind her she paused a moment to put on her boots, and then continued her wild flight with redoubled speed. She was not, however, to escape unobserved. Miss Neal’s nephew, who was no other than Malcolm Payne, aroused from his dreams by the commotion below, sprung from his bed, donned a few articles of clothing, flew downstairs, . saw the back door open, and went out in pursuit, leaping over Burns to do it Meantime, Burns remained quiescent, a prey to a thousand conflicting emotions. She was not quite sure what the robber had done to her, or whether she was killed or not. Miss Neal, hovering at the top of the stairs, called down softly and cautiously, ‘Burns! Burns!’ ‘ Oh, Miss Ruth! run down !’ came the appealing answer. ‘ Where are you ? What is the matter 1’ Miss Neal anxiously inquired. ‘ The matter! I’m dead, Miss Ruth.’ ‘Dead!’ 1 * Right down dead,’ groaned Burns. ‘ ‘ Here, down in the ha’,’ ' Timorously enough Miss Neal came down. 1 The poker lay along the floor-cloth, the ex- ' tinguished candle was right under Burns’s ! chin. Miss Neal suppressing a smile, did ! what she could to get Burns upright, and ' inquired particulars. 1 ‘My tooth began to ache again, and I ! came down to get some hot stuff for’t,’ began Burns, excitedly, ‘ an’ was gangin’ to , bed again, when there came a noise frae the ! closet there. I said it was the rats ; so I 1 locked the door careful like, when C it flew open wi’ an awfu’ sound ? and struck my poor old head a 1 a blow that sent me down there. * ‘Burns’s second ‘robber’ was of course Malcolm Payne. In leaping over the threshold he saw something white lying at his feet Picking it up he found it was a lady’s * cambric handkerchief. 0 A peculiar, delicate perfume, of which 8 Edna was especially fond, thrilled through * him, and caused him, hurried though he was, V to turn to the corners and look keenly at S them in the moonlight. ? ‘ Edna !’ he read, gazing incredulously at 1 the embroiderad characters. ‘lt cannot be . my Edna! and vet —where is she ? ’ J Thrusting the handkerchief into his pocket, h he rushed onwards. Edna, swift-footed as a £ gazelle by daylight, was not so by moonlight *" and in these strange grounds. Thinking Burns was following her, she sped onwards, uncertain whither. Frantic with excitement . and fear she persevered, converting the anguished ‘ Edna 1 Edna 1 ’ ringing hoarsely on the night air, into so many shouts of triumph. And when at last a light hand fell on her shoulder, and she reeled fainting into the friendly arms behind her, she still believed herself vanquished by a foe. ‘ Poor darling ! poor darling! What does it all mean, I wonder,’ murmured Malcom Payne, gazing down at the poor little face in the moonlight, ‘ Why, my poor child, don’t you know me ? your own Malcolm ! ’

And _ with a faint cry .of relief she lay upon his arm in peace. ‘A dozen more o’the siller spoons gone, ma’am, for I can’t set my eyes on ’em naowhere,’ Burns was announcing as they got hack. ‘lf this does na teach us to beware o’ night tramps eh, mercy me, Mr Malcolm ! then what is it a’ ? ’ ‘lt means that this young lady, who has so fortunately taken refuge here, is my promised wife, Burns,’ answered Malcolm, who had heard a word or two of explanation from Edna as they came in. Little more remains to be told. With her head pillowed on Miss JS T eal, and her hand a prisoner in Malcolm’s, Edna told her story in detail. And Malcolm told his aunt his story—to tell which had been the chief purpose of this visit to his aunt—that he intended to make this young lady his own with all speed. An attack of fever followed on the excitement Edna had undergone, during which she had not a more gentle attendant than Burns—who had found her spoons were safe. The wedding followol. For her lover represented to Edna, with all the eloquence ho was master of, that she could not be safe from John Lydell aud his son until she should be placed beyond their power as Mrs Malcolm Payne.