LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XX, Issue 1463, 24 October 1878, Page 3

LITERATURE.

AN EPISODE AT BLACKGANG CHINE.

By the Author op ‘ Marley Castle,’ ‘ Corbafin,’ Etc.

Concluded.

‘ Well,’ I said, ‘to me there seems to be a certain amount of incompleteness about it ; but of course I am not a very good judge of such matters either, for the only woman I ever remember kissing is my aunt Skinner, who—,

‘Then I’m not surprised you never tried it again, for she was the ugliest woman I ever saw in my life!’ interpolated Maida, laughing. ‘But I can assure you,’ she added, ‘ it’s not all according to the latest authority to hold an aged and decrepit hand so tight that the rings hurt the withered fingers You really are hurting my hand, Amory !’ * Forgive me,’ I cried, ‘ but I hardly know what lam doing. You haven’t one spark of feeling, Maida; if you had you would feel some pity, some little tenderness for me now, for 1 swear to you I never felt so wretched in my life but on e before, and that was the day I heard you were going to be married. Talk of my heart being cold, yours must be as cold as ice ?’ ‘Take comfort, Amo,’ she replied, in a low and almost inaudible tone ; ‘ if the truth were known, I feel a great deal more at parting with you than you do at my leaving you. And now I really must go. Goodnight and farewell I’ And as she said this she wrenched her hand from my grasp, and the next moment, befoie I had time to add another word, she darted from the room.

The next day, spent without Maida, was fully forty-eight hours long, while the succeeding one was even of longer duration. Indeed, instead of her prediction being fulfilled, my sense of loss and feeling of utter loneliness increased instead of diminishing, and at that juncture it appeared to me that time must be moulting very hard, for there was not so much as a single feather in his wing. However, I did not reach the comhle of my misfortune until, my brother-in-law having thought proper to die, as well as every one else belonging to me, I was summoned over to Ireland to attend his funeral. Now at the time of his death he and my sister were living in a God-forsaken little place called Courtmacksherry. I remember quite well ■when 1 first heard that they were going there, as he was in the service and 1 knew of Pondicherry, I looked on the map of India for it; and in addition to its remoteness and other drawbacks, as I had to go over in November, it was so perpetually enshrouded in gloom, mists, and fogs, that though 1 spent live weeks in the green isle I can truly say I never actually saw it, and the conclusion I came to wgs that Ireland was a very pleasant country indeed to live out of. but then I owed the climate a deep grudge, los it played Old Harry with my lungs, an,d made me so ill that when I got back to, I-ondon I was ordered elf at' once to the south of Prance.

This iyas startling and by no means pleasin'*. But though Jat first felt that it would be better to die at home than live abroad, on second thoughts I decided that, after all, life was sweet, and as I had by no means exhausted it yet, I would no* only do as 1 was bidden, but as soon as possible too. I, however, had to return to Blackgang for :py t it'ects, where I found aunt still in the enjoyment of her bad health, and having got her to furnish me with Maida’s address—she was out, of town when I was passing through-..-! telegraphed to her to come down, even if it were but for a day, adding that I was very ill, and about to _ leave England for a long and indefinite period. summons she obeyed at once ; and \7hen she came into the room where 1 was lying—it was one of those charming little sitting roqnas at the back of the hotel which 10-'k right down on the sea—and sa,w how worn and wasted I had become, the color fled from her cheek and the light faded from her eye ; and though she knelt down beside the couch and took my hand, she seemed quite unable to utter a word.

‘ It was very good of you to come, Maida,’ I said, ‘ but 1 felt sure that you would and you knew I could not go without seeing you once more, for in all probability we shall never meet in this world.’ * 0 Armory, 'it’s cruel of you to say that; and A think, if you knew what pain it gives 1 me, you wouldn’t, I know of course that I have had to live all my life without you,— that was your fault though, and not mine—but now I have felt that fW, world would not have the least cha s ( m for me if you were not in it, ’

‘Do yovi fndeed feel that, Maida?’ I anklet, starting up, and hardly able to believe the evidence of ray senses as I listened to this acknowledgment, 1 1 do indeed,, she said. ‘ It’s not likely that 3 woftld say- what I didn’t mean at such a time.’

‘ Then, in Heaven’s name, why did you not tell me before ?’ I said, ‘ Think of all you might have spared me ; for I know that a great deal of my illness has been caused by what I have suffered since you rejected me. Now, of ciurse, it’s too late ;my doom is sealed, and I must die as 1 have lived, alone ; but it is you who have been cruel, Maida, and not I.’

Instead of replying i,o this, however, she bent her head 91ml her face rested on the hand she still held in her own ; and as she did sq 1 felt fomething very like a tear trickling through my fingers. After that it was all over with me, for no man can withstand the irresistible iogio of a tear, provided it be shed by the woman ho loves. And at that moment I was conquered—fully and entirely conquered. Gone were all the coldness au,d impenetrable reserve of years, vanished tho stubborn pride which had spoilt my whole life, and even up to the pre eat had held such a sway over me ; and drawing the kneeling figure still closer to me, J. whispered, in a tone which faltered in spite of my most strenuous efforts to keep calm »nd composed, ‘ Maida, I love you ! “ Like” was not the word I ought to have used that night ; ; but 1 was too proud even then to thc whole truth, and acknowledge that you have crept into my cold heart--cold no longer, but now, when it’s too late and my life nearly over, filled with a love for you as deep and yrdent as. even you, could desire,’ ‘ \\hy should it ho too la,to, dear Amo ?’ she cried, raising her head and fixing her eyes inquiringly on my face as she spoke. ‘ I'f you indeed love me you shall not go abroad alone, i will bear you company, not only in your journey, but for the journey of life, if you like ; and in the care that I shad take of you I do not despair of yonr getting better too. May I go? -will you let me ?’ M ght she ? would I let her ? Woujd L accept my heart’s desire when it was offered me? Yes, I should rather think Vwould. Hut, I need not tell you what 1. said in reply. I wilt only say that my answer was spoken on her Kps—the feat, though difficult, is by 90 nica,ns impossible—and then, as we sat

together that day, talking of the past and the curious chain of circumstances which had brought us together at Blackgang after so many years of separation, although the retrospect was saddening and the future cloudy and uncertain, hope triumphed over despair, and in the fullness of our present joy we both came to the conclusion that autumnal love is, after all, much stronger and deeper, and more of a reality, than the evanescent dream which comes in spring * * # *

Several weeks have gone by since that happy day, and I must add a line to say that, though still ailing and still under sentence of expatriation, my new-found happiness has already had a most favorable effect on my health, and banishment no longer has any terrors for me, as before I enter on it I am to exchange single for double blessedness.