CHAPTER XXXIX.

Te Aroha News, Volume IV, Issue 173, 9 October 1886, Page 7

CHAPTER XXXIX.

OLLA PODRIDA. It svaa dusk of the day following the night on which he had set out that Senor Sebastian arrived homo,, over-wearied in body and miserable in mind. His tiery Spanish nature burned for revenge upon the deatroyar of his son. He could not reconcile himself to the necessity of letting the murderess escape. A chilly and death-like depression settled upon his soul aa he roda slowly up to the gates of his house. So desolate did that home appear that it seemed as if he 'cou^d not enter it Had he not felt that it would be cruel to abandon poor Bella in this time of trial, he would have ridden ontowards the mines without even halting for the night. Only one object in life now presented itself to him, and that was to find and bring home for Christian burial the bones of his murdered child. He expected to start for that'purpose the very next day, getting from Romeyn such assistance as he could spare; Harris he supposed to be far on his way to California. Great, then, was his astonishment, to be met by both Harris and Romeyn, as he dismounted wearily, and walked toward the piazza. The two young men ran down the steps to welcome him, like two brothers, .seizing his handa, and Harris actually kissing him on the cheek. " I suppose you thought me off long ago, and so I should have been," began John, in his hearty manner, "but something oc•curred to delay our expedition a few days. You will not scold, will you, senor ?" Sebastian found such cheer and comfort in the sight of them and the sound of their voices that he felt little inclined to find fault, albeit he wondered somewhat at the cause of the delay. "I cannot tell you, friends, how glad I am to pee you, It ia worth the sacrifice of the wuole million to meet you here te night. Something terrible has occurred. I felt hardly able to bear it alone. ' He appeared so feeble and ill that Hrrris supported him with his strong arm as they walked up the step 9. "Yes," he said, "the slave-woman has told us a few of the particulars. We will talk it over by and-by. But not until you have had your supper, senor. I, too, am glad that we came at this time." "Where is Bella?" asked Sebastian, looking about, as he entered the hall. " She has been ill all day, from excitement. But I dare say she will rise when she hears you have come." " Poor child," murmured the senor, *• poor, poor girl J I trust that woman has had the discretion not to break the worst to her! It was nat necessary that she should know all." " She ha 9 been discreet," eaid Romeyn. Carlos, the man-in-waiting, stood ready at the door to welcome his master. " Oh, sencr, I am so glad !" he cried ; then checking himself and looking doprecatingly at Harrisf added, in a more subdued manner : "We were afraid the banditti would get the best of you." " How are the wounded men, Carlos ?" •'Doing well, senor—none of them are fatally injured." ** That ia good news." II Will thesenor have a warm bath before Mb supper ?' " Yes, Carlos : I'm dust-begrimed from head to foot." Everything is prepared, senor," said the ready servant, leading off his master to the room, where the warm bath stood ready, with a change of clotning already laid out Sebastian was too deeply absorbed in his freshly aroused grief to heed the pleaaant alaracrity with which the valet moved übout; it was good to be home, and to be kindly attended, but all hia thoughts were with that little grave at the foot of the pine tree in the wild mountains. It was an awful object for a parent's mind to dwell upon. '• I am so glad the young gentleman happened here," he thought, as he left his room somewhat refreshed by this toilet. * I do believe 1 should go mad with this picture before my eyes if they were not here to relieve my mind a little." •'Supper is served," was the announcement aB as he entered the parlour. The three gentleman walked into the dining-room. 111 have not broken my fast to-day," observed Sebastian. They sat down to a sumptuous' supper, more like an elaborate dinner. Bella did not make her appearance, but ♦he young men. like two affectionate Bons, pressed the eenor to eat, while the servants moved about with beaming faces, and the old, ccok came twica to the door to peep in. At first there was not much conversation, but when the meal was nearly over, and the desert being placed upon the table Harris remarked to his host: " You have not yet inquired what business was of sufficient importance to detain my whole expedition two weeks." " True; but the fact is, Captain Harris, I feel no interest in anything." " Still, if you care to listen, I would like to explain to you what, as a partner, you hare a right to know." 11 Oh, very well," was the listless reply. " The night before we expected to start 1 detected a comagche prowling about our settlement, and, pouncing upon him I brought him in. It turned .put th\t he had a message for me of some importance." " Did he warn you of an attack to be made if you set out ?" " Not exactly ; still he was friendly and came on a friendly errand. He had information io sell, if I chose to buy it. Then the rascal, as usual, wanted to drive a «harp bargain. Nothing less than twenty first-class riiles, a whole keg of gunpowder, and a lot of blankets would saiisfy him. "You did not part with your rifles' Harris ?" 411 offered him a large amonnt of gold, but he turned up Mb noee at the dross. He had no vee for the article. He wanted -covering for the body and weapons to bring down the game." •• Including you and your men, on your trip across the country." " Just as likely as not. Still, I thought the information worth the risk, and I finally -came down with the powder and rifles." '* Indiscreet," murmured the senor, at which the captain did not seem in the least •disconcerted. "What was it, Harris? a •new mine ?" " I wouldn't take another mine as a gift," said the young man, laughing; "the one ire have* is too big a thing for us. No, guess again, friend." " Indeed, I am dull at your Yankee game of * guessing,' answered Sebastian, wearily, pulling the great golden-green grapes ono

by one from their stem and dropping them

untasted upon his plate. •'The Comanche told me that a small party'of 15roVes who had been ranging over the table-lapds at the foot of the, mountain, all aummeiy had a— had a' prisoner, whom they were willing to ransom for the price I have named." " And you, with your accustomed generosity, paid the exorbitant' ransom and got ,the poor devil in return, who will be the first to shirk duty, if you ever get in a pinch, mark that, Captain." " I don't think so ; bnt even if I did, I would pay more to rescue a young and pining child from these savages." " Child ?" quired the senor, looking up ; his own dreadful bereavement made him sympathetic when that chord was touched upon. . Harris's eyes were on his plate ; Roineyn peeled an orange diligently, " Yes," continued Harris, growing a Hitle nervous as he proceeded, and clearing his throat so often that Sebastian thought tie must have taken cold, " the etory of the little fellow's captivity was rather singular. This war-party, it appears, got on the track of some Californians, who were making their way to some gold mines lately discovered ; and followed them a great many day 8, but the whites were bo thoroughly armed and organised that they were afraid to attack them. The Comanchea hovered on their rear, however, until the whites entered the mountains ; when the savages abandoned the chaae, seeing that each night the Californians, evidently underat jn ding their business, fortified their camp in some secure spot where they could successfully resist any attack which might be made. " I did not know that othershad ventured into the Comanche district,'' remarked the senor. " I wonder where they located." '• It seems that there were some ladies, and a young lad, with these whites," continued the captain, scratching his plate with his fruit-knife, obviousof etiquitte. " Well, the Comanches gave up the chase. After the whites entered the hills, they fell behind and camped a few miles back on the plains. But this wily fellow who drove the hard bargain with me thought to do a stroke of business on his own account. He itched to creep into the enemy's camp and filch a wife ur two, or a blanket, or whotever might be lying about loose. So he orawled away from his companions— rode his horse until within a couple of miles, or so, of the sleeping Californianß, when he tethered the brute behind a rock and went forward on foot. As he crept along as quiet a3 a snake|upthe narrow file, he saw ajfigure coming down the pass and immediately concealed himself under a projecting ledge where the deep shadows and a few bushes hid him effectually. The moon was rising in the weat, over the plains, giving a faint light. I daresay the lurking redskin was astonished — although quite too sparing of language to tell me so — to observe that the traveller was a woman carrying iv her arms a heavy burden." The Benor let hie knife drop on the plate with a crash wbich broke the delicate china into fragments. He rose from his chair ; his blaok eyer, burning like coal 3 of fire, rested on Harris's face, who would not look at him, but continued, half chocking : "The Gomanche made up his mind to see what was up. The woman passed him. paused but a few feet away, laid her burden under which, she had been sighing and BtaggeriDg, on the ground, and began to— to— dig a hole — " Great drops of sweat stood en Sebaetfan's "ac;?. '• Great Heaven ! Anatole, atop I not another word ! la my boy alive ?" ' She went on digging the hole for some time," continued Harris, giving one swift glance at the excited face in front ot him, "and— and— and -come now, Sebastian, be a man !" " Where is my boy ?" I "She — she went on digging the hole," ! floundered Harris, whoee mind contained the aingle idea that it would be dangerous to break the good tidings too suddenly and ho was Btaggering on with his story after the swift-darting thought of the parent had comprehended the situation. j " Did he take my boy out alive ?" screamed the senor, stamping his foot. Romeyn and Harris jumped from their chair 8 and ran x-ound to hia side of the table, catching him by the shoulder and hand. " Be calm." said Romeyn. " Be a man," said Harris, " My boy ?" pleaded Sebastian. "Yes, he did, Sebastian. He got him out after she had gone away. Of course, at first, he supposed it to be a corpse ; but he found the body warm and pliant, the pulse beating full at the wrist " " Oh, Anatole ! Where is he now, Harris ? For Heaven's sake tell me that !" "Do you think the informaron worth twenty rifiea ?" laughed the captain, with outrageous delay in his revelation, " For my part I think the Comanche earned it. He had lots of trouble that night and the next two days in concealing himself and hia prisoner. He did not dare to rejoin hra war-party until after we had given up the search and gone up the mountain. The Comanches were very fond of the lad— they wished to adopt him— and kept him all summer ; but he begged so hard, and told such large stories of what his friends would be willing to give for his ransom, that— that— that " It seemed, for all the world, as if Harris was talking against time. Perhaps he wai ; for as he tried to get on with his story, his eyea were fixed on the library door which opened into the diningroom. That door now unclosed, and Bella came, pale and smiling, into the frame of the open door-way ; servants were crowding at every door and window. The aenor was blind to all this by-play. " You do not tell me where he is!" he cried, sharply. " Mies Bella," spoke up Roraeyn, 4< where is the ransomed caDtive ? Can you produce him ?" "Father ! father ! here I am !" A pair of arms hugging his neck, a pair of lips pressed to his cheek. Sebastian did not die of joy, although the young men had beer so apprehensive of the shock, and had prepared him for it so carefully. Trembling and faint he sank into a chair, holding his treasure to his bosom for a tew momentß in utter silence. Then he lifted h»s face, whispering a thansgiving for the restoration of his child. Then followed the thousand questions and answers, the joyous confusion of tongues, while Bella and Anatole, who had been feasting- for hours on the good things the cook kept sending him, trifled with the dessert, for which they had little appetite left. One remark all his friends kept repeating at intervals : 11 How well He looks !" I They could not recover from their astonishment at finding Anatole taller, stouter, in every way healthier then he had been for years. Yes, the pure air of the plains, the out-of-door existence, the plain food, and, more than all, the absence of the subtle poisoner who had so long tampered with his life, had restored him to a fine degree of health. Long after "the children," as the eenor still called them, had retired to rest, the gentlemen contiuued up, too excited to sleep, talking over the particulars, and

making out what they could of the strange, widked diary of ithe arch-adventuress. Harris was now, of course, certain that she was the woman who had~tnurdered'H. in New York, and whom he had seen when he was a lad of fifteen. "I was always struggling against conviction when I was in her' presence," he said ; " and oh, how relieved I feel to know that Miss Bella Jardine na'a none of her blood in her innocent veins !" A portion of the diary, difficult from its age to make out, which interested them much, related fco the steps Mrs Henderson, alias Mrs Jardine, had taken to blot from the mind of the young child the memory of her own mother, and induce her to accept the new one in her place. "I keep her drugged as much as I dare. She was drugged all the time we were in Havana. She made no trouble at all with Farraro brothers. I only saw them in the the evening, and once in the daylight with my veil down. Once away from Havanna, I was not at all afraid but the deception would be easy thereafter. When she awakens I tell that her mother is dead, and that lam her mother now. She cries, but she is drovysy, and I easily reconcile her. I shall not take her to her relatives, until I have confused the past in her mind, ao that she will believe that ib was Mrs Henderson who was killed by the cruel soldiers, and her mother who is with her She is very fond of me. Of course, I could easily rid myself of her ; but, good heavens ! one mußt have something to love in this world. Yes, even this cold-blooded tigress showed a*real fondness for|the child. From the account jotted down, it was perfectly apparent that she had induced Sebastian to allow her to take Anatole to San Francisco that she might get rid of him there. She had plenty of money from the estates whose possession she had usurped to live on comfortably, but she coveted everything for heraelf and Bella and her restless, evil nature could not live without it had some plot on foot to occupy it. It also became apparent from the diary that she dreaded Elee, who bad detected her in some of her attempts to tamper with Anatole's food. " I declare, we owe that ' heathen Chinee ' an apology," said Romeyn. 11 He shall have it, if we ever com© acros3 him," reaponded Harris. It was decided to allow Bella to know that the woman she had been brought up to rt^ard as her mother was an impoeter, but j not to shock her with the details of the iniquity. Glora was called in to the conference, and instructed what course to pursue in the matter. " Laws ! I hain't told her the truth, nor never shall !" Glora received the heartfelt thanks of Sebastian for the long and tedious journey she had undertaken and accomplished. " Jest as she say a, master. JtJut if IJstay, "You will Ircmain now, always, with your young miatresa, will you not ?" as I'd fancy to above all thing, I must ask her to send for Sam. Sam's my husband ; he saved me out oj the fire, time o' the trouble, and we was married afterwards. He's a first class Iservant, Sam is, in the house ; an' I'm certain Jhe'd like it here better than in Cuba, these days." The following day other matters were discussed. Harris was anxious 'fco get back to his men, who were impationtly awaiting marching orders But the temptation to remain one more day was irreeistable, and then Sebaetiin wouli bOj hear to his going. " Surely we can take a holiday now if ever in our lives !" said the senor. So feasting and amusements were the order of the day all over the place. Every peon had his time to himself, anp a present of something from the master, that he, to, might rejoice in the raising up from the dead, a? it were, of the son and heir. Romeyn kept his chronic heart-ache to himself , while Harris tried biavely to torget that tomorrow ho was going off without a word or sign of encouragement from the girf he loved. As the long, bright, dazzling day was slipping to its happy close, Harris, who had for Borne time missed Bella from tbe little group, and who supposed her in her room, perhaps grieving over the woman who had boen as a mother to her —growing more and more melancholy with the idea ot their long parting, wandered off along the paths, through beds of flowers, through groves of oranges and nectarines, and on along a single narrow way which led toward the stately palms, whose clump of tall plumes formed one of the most picturesque objects in view from the house. Under these palms he wandered until surprised by a glimpse of Miss Jardine's white dress, as she sat on the elastic turf, looking sadly off at the sunset, whose arrows struck under the high, waving foliage and glittered on her golden hair. Hesitating whether or noc to retreat, he finally went forward. As he drew near he perceived the tears running down her cheeks. In a moment the generous follow forgot his own tro.uble in compassion for hers. He would have retreated, but she k id heard his step and looked around. A burning flush dyed her pale cheeks when she saw who it was. •' I never dreamed you were here, or I should not have intruded, Miss Jardine." " I dare say not," she answered, with something like reproach. " Of course, I wished to come," he went on, not knowing what to make of tho accent of reproach ; " but I would not have dared. I can't tell you, Miss Bella, how it grieves me to see you so. I could go away with a light heart, I do believe, if I left you as gay and bappy as you ought to be.' " Oh, yee, I know you could go away with alight heart, Captain Harris." What did she mean talking to him _so ? He looked hard at her. — Her eyes were downcast; the red lips pouted lide a child's. "My heart has not been so very light this summer." She began to cry again at that. He did not know at all what to make of her. " Why don't you send Mr Romeyn off on that tiresome trip?" she asked, almost pettishly. "You must see howiuard it ia for Sebastian to do without you. He does not care half as much for Mr Romeyn." "But you care twice as much, Miss Bella; and I am bound to consider your wishes before anybody eke's in this world. ' "Are you, truly and really?" she asked, looking up with a sudden sweet, shy smile that completely took his breath away, it was so unexpectedly delicious. "Then stay with us — with Sebastian, I mean." He sat down on the turf by her side. " Do you want me to etay, Bolla?" "Yes." " In preference to my friend Oscar ?" "Yes." "Why,?" Again that bewitching glancei just seen and then gone. •* You must guess the reason, Mr Harris." He lifted one of the fair dimpled hands ; he kissed it, and she only blushed without attempting to draw it away. A sudden hope dawned on him of the meaning of all this. His own face flushed ; with his finger under the pretty, rosy chin he turned the young face up, but the trembling lashes hid the tell-tale eyes. " Bella, it is not possible— l dare not think —that you have learned to love meme s after all ?"

"If you won't believo it, what am I to do?" she asked, shyly. '" Assure me of ifc," he cried, eagerly. "Ah, not until you have first eaid that' you love me. Girls never make the avowal, Mr Harris." "Bella, you witch, I love you— love you —love you ! I never loved anyone else ; ' I loved you the firat hour I saw you ; I n^vor would have loved another, though I had lived my life out alone. You knew it all. But now I have paid it. Now do you love me ?" " I am afraid I do," very timidly and faintly. About half an hour later Harris thought to inquire : " How long since you began to like me, Bolla, my own sweet, eweet, little girl ?" "I really cannot define the time. I believe it must have been when those ugly Comanches wounded you. I was so sorry your arm was hurt." "Ever since then, you little angel? I never dreamed of it. I thought all the time that Oacar was your hero." "I did admire him very much. I came near fancying myself in love with him, because he was the first young gentleman with whom I had ever associated. I admire him still." •• Oh, admire him as you wish," said John, jealously. " But I love you, capitane." 11 You delicious little darling I great awkward, hulking mo ! It appears incredible to me, even v-ith your dear little hand in mine. ' " That's it, capitane : you're so modest, and ao good, and so brave and so—" " Huah, hush, or I shall think you are fooling me." " And Sebastian desires it so much." "Oh." 41 And Romeyn thinks well of it." "Ah !" "I couldn't live myself if you were to go awny — that is, for ever." Well, they sat under the palms, which sighod and fluttered overhead, talking the soft folly of youth and romance, until the rosy suneefc deepened into twilight. Then they wandered back ; and as they came into the lighted parlour every eye which looked upon tnem could tell that they were plighted lovers. This wished-for denouement crowned the senor's day with fresh pleasure. " I wish you, too, were my son," he said, as he wrung John's hand for joy. " I shall be a relative by marriage before long, I hope," answered Harris, with a sideglance at Bella's averted face. Romeyn, enthusiastic over the betrothal, at once offered to take charge of the expedition to San Francisco, and leave his friend in Mexico, where he could be near his affianced. But John did not believe that Romeyn could foil the Comanches, who would be sure to harass, if not destroy, the party. " One more venture, darling," he whispered to Bella ; "then I will settle down and never leave you again." As it was so evidently bestthatthi^ should be so, all were obliged to consent to the arrangement. la the morning he bade farewell to his weeping betrothed— and to do it gaylj, as he did, was one of the bravest of his many brave acts. Romeyn returned to j the mines ; but Bella and Anatole remained to brighten the senor's home. Sebastian wrote long letters of explanation to Ferrara Brothers ; he also, at Glora's request, wrote to the lessees of Lisbon Place, thanking them for their kindnees, telling them of the slave-girl's safe arrival, and ita opportune result, and asking them to for ward Gldra's husband to Mexico, and he wouid pay the expenses. In ten weeks Captain Harris was back from San Francisco. He brought three mule-loads of ladies' finery with him, including a white satin dress, a wedding veil, and a set of pearls. He also brought Oacar a long letter from Maud, detailing the death of Vance, and dwelling eloquently upon Gracie Delzemar's truth and constancy, ending by begging him to return as soon as possible. When it became known that Romeyn wished to return to New York, it was decided, in consultation, to go by the way oi Vera Cruz ; and, in order to protect him through the first few days of his journey, which alone were dangerous, Sebastian resolved to accompany him with an armed escort ; also the brido and groom and Anatole were to go along for company ; in short, the whole family decided upon a visit to the United States, which Romeyn immediately seconded by inviting them to bis wedding. That wedding has "come off," It was a fine affair, and much admired by those friends who understood that Mr Oscar Averill had much more tban redeemed his pecuniary losses by splendid gold-mining operations in Mexico. Agroup of Spaniards among the guests attracted universal attention, the fine, aristocratic bearing of the tenor, the unequalled lovelineps of his 'young daughter — bride of the millionaire John Harris — and the grace of his handsome son. Of one thing we are certain, they were &<* happy as they were rich, and distinguished, which is not always the fortunate fate of beauty, wealth, or even youth. (the end).