A DANGEROUS CHARGE.

Manawatu Herald, Volume III, 14 March 1891, Page 4

A DANGEROUS CHARGE.

' It was long ago, when I was a younger man, with very little experience of the world, though I thought I knew more than Ido now, or am ever likely to know. For three years I had been book-keeper to a wholesale draper's house, enjoyinc.' in no small degree its esteem and confidence, which I appreciated, and did my best to deserve. With the desire to perform my duties well and acceptably, I had an additional incentive to stand lii^h in the estimation of the firm in the form of the lovely daughter of th • herd partner, with whom, as it seemed then, I was hopelessly in love. It was not the absence of fortune and position that made me so faint-hearted, for I had heard her father say more than once that he did not care how poor a man was, if he wasn't poor in integrity, intelligence, energy, and self-reliance. I was conscious that he regarded me with favour. Certainly I could not complain that he did not afford me ample opportunity to woo and win his daucrhtor if 1 could. The chiof difficulty in the way lay in the fact that I had a rival who was a rich man by repute, and, having been longer in the field, had apparently obtained a footing in her favour. And then, the fair Lucy herself was so shy and reserved with me. Had I been versed in the ways of woman, 1 should not have let this dishearten me so. As it was, my heart sometimes beat high with the hope of eventual success ; her eyes f:rew so wondrously bright at my approach, am! : he blushed so prettily when I spoke to her. Fred Harding was a man of leisure, and quite a favourite with the fairer portion of the-community. He had plenty of money, which he spent freely, though how he obtain; d it was not so clear. He was a slender, smooth-faced fellow, with soft white hands, glossv ctirJp. and carefully got-up attire. 1 never liked him, though that is not strange considering how he monopolised the society of my adored Lucy. He was always very civil to me, but there was no love 1 t on either side. There seldom is between two men in love with the same woman. GjEje day Mr. Crofton called me to one side, htating that he was going to give me a strong proof of inc. confidence in what he was pleased to term my good sense and integrity, by trusting to me some important business, to which it would be inconvenient for him personally to attend. I will not tal:e up the time by describing the nature of the business, which has nothing to clo with my story, merely saying that it necessitated me going to a distant part, and taking with me a large sum of money. * 1 was a little proud that a mission of so much importance should be entrusted to me ; wondering in my elation if Lucy knew how much confidence her father had in me, and inwardly resolving that 1 would per- ] form it in a way that would justify his good ofi.iicn. 1 was to lake the evening train. Just before starting I called at Mr. Crofton's private office to receive the money and his parting instructions, I could scarcely believe that the small package handed me contained so large an amount. His last injunction to me was to put it in my breastpocket, to keep my coat buttoned close to the chin, and to avoid talking with strangers. I took the half-pnst five train, travelling straight on after only brief stoppages for nearly four hours. Then we came to the junction, and leaving the express I took a slow train on another and less frequented route. There was a delay of about fifteen minutes, owing to the fact that we were obliged to shunt to let an express train pass. About five minutes before we started, an old man entered the carriage, whose white hair and beard gave him a very venerableappearance. He had a woman with him, who clung timidly to his arm. "Does this train go to ?" he said, addressing me. " It does," 1 replied. " Are you going as far as that ?" " 1 am going beyond it," I said. Oh ! how soft we are when there's an attractive ladv in the case ! " You're in' luck, Emily," said the old man, addressing the veiled woman on his arm. " Here's a gentleman that's going right through, and will see that you don't get out at the wrong place. " Won't you, sir ?" " With pleasure," said I. " My daughter is not used to travelling." continued he, " and is just recovering from a serious iliness. If you will grant me this favour I shall be exceedingly grateful to you." II Certainly," 1 responded. . "Viewing with no little selt-complacency this additional proof of the confidence that people seemed disposed to place in me, I removed my coat from a seat as a tacit invitation to the lady that she was at liberty to appropriate it if she chose to do so. Observing this movement, the old gentleman said — " Thank you, sir. Would you as soon let my daughter have the seat farthest from the window? She is so sensitive to the c6ld." Then, as the young lady took the seat alluded to, he kissed her, saying — 11 Good-bye, my dearest child. Don't talk ; your lungs are still weak, you know. Give my love to your aunt and cousins, and write as soon as you are able." As the train moved on, I stole a look at my fair companion — for fair she looked, and young, from the glimpses obtained through her veil. She was dressed very warmly, having on, in addition to the long loose cloak that fell to the floor, a large cape and scarf. On her head was the conventional bonnet of that day, and which had material enough in it for a haH-dozen of the style worn now. Her natural pallor was heightened by the blackest eyes and eyelashes that I think I ever saw, though on account of her shyness and timidity, the latter had veiled much of the former from view. She seemed entirely unfit to be out at that season of the year, being seized at one time with a paroxyism of coughing that quite alarmed me. To my inquiry if I could get her anything, she shook her head : and, remembering her father's caution to her, I said no more. Presently she took a small bottle from her handbag, and removed the cork. The peculiar odour I remember yet. Whatever it was, it seemed to have the desired effect. Folding my coat, I placed it on the seat behind her, and leaning her head upon it, she slept, or seemed to do so. I had not the remotest idea or intention of goin^ to sleep, but I did. How long I slept Ido not know. I only know that I wok* •with a sense of suffocation, to which the fresh air that poured in from the open carriage door was a welcome relief. The train had stopped, which was, perhaps, the reason why I woke. With a cori fused feeling in my brain that I could not account for, I watched the people moving about until the peculiar odour before alluded to, reminding me of my companion, I turned to see how she was faring. To my utter astonishment she was gone ! " Can this be ?" I thought, springing to my ieet, a little mortified at my involuntary remissness. As I did so. I stumb.led (To be Continued.)