CHAPTER XVI.

Te Aroha News, Volume V, Issue 212, 23 July 1887, Page 7

CHAPTER XVI.

A WAIF OK THE WILDE. That flow strcv cd wrecks about the gras*. That ebbc swept out the flocks Lo bee— A fatal ebbo and flow, alas ! To many more than niyne and mcc : But each will mourn his own (sayth she. Jean Ingelow. A waking baby in a cradle smiling. Anon. " There, nestled deeply Among the white water lilies, lay a cradle with a baby in it. " I drew back a step, and stood rooted to the ground in pure amazement. Then I knelt down be&ide the cradle to examine the wonder. " The outside of the cradle was very wet, like a boat recently landed. The inside, with its precious* burden, seemed quite diy. In an instant the whole secret of tne child's preset vatio u Hashed on my mind. " The cradle, witli the bleeping babe within it, must have been floated out from some flooded dwelling-house after the rain had ceased to fall, and therefore it had not got wet on top. The rising liver had borne it on buoyantly until it reached my ground, whcie the falling waters had let it down gently, and left it safe in the embrace of the water-lilies. "Was there ever, since the days of our Lord on earth, such a beautiful miracle ?* " As I garni, the child opened its eyes, and seeing a kindly face bent over it, smiled and crowed and tiied to free its arms ; but they were too securely tucked in by the white quilt that covered the little bed. I noticed that the babe had dark-brown eyes and dark-brown hair ; and I thought it might be about a few weeks old ; but I was no judge of infants' ages and could not tell exactly. " In that moment forgotten were the toiling men in the boats. I left them to lescue, as they might, their dead or living cattle, the timbers of their shattered houses, the remnants of their scattered furnitme, and I gave my whole interest and attention to the helpless litole human waif at my feet. "I took up 'the cradle, the baby and all,' and bore the precious burden to the house. " No words can describe the amazement, wonder and wild ejaculations of the women on beholding this babe. , A dozen questions weie poured upon me at once, which I could only answer by a tale of a dozen words : " ' I have just found the child, stranded among the water-lilies. ' " They were all talking at once ; but all the time they talked they busied themselves with ministrations to the little waif. One took the babe upon her lap ; and anotner went out to milk a cow who had just found her way home ; a third improvised a suck-ing-bottle by getting a small, clean stone jug, putting a cork into it, perforating the cork, setting a piece of quill in the hole, and tying a soft linen rag over it for a mouth-piece. This was made ready, filled with warm, sweetened milk and water, and put to the baby's lips before it had time to cry for hunger. " When 1 saw my little protege in such good hands I went down again to the beach to see if I could help the men in the boats. "The liver had fallen very fast. My boat houses were now so well above the water that I was able to reach my boats, and launch one of them, in which I rowed out to help my neighbours. I was greeted on all sides by voices from the boats, each one claiming my help for its owner. " I told the men the story of the baby in the cradle found among water-lillics, and inquired if they could tell me anything about it. They wondered much at the incident j but could give mo no clue to the partntp of the child. "I next mentioned the travellers who had arrived in the midst of the storm on the previous night at the opposite side of the river. They shared my anxiety for the ! safety of the people, but could give me no information concerning them. "Nor could they tell, any more than myself, how much, or how little, the vil- ! lage of Wildeville had suffered by the flood. Besides, we soon became too busy in picking up half -drowned sheep to attend j to anything else. "I worked two hours steadily with the men, and we rescued many valuable animals and several useful pieces of furniture. 11 Meantime, as the river continued to fall, I had the satisfaction of seeing the Eagle Roost ferry-house emerge from the water. " At length I retired from this genial work of humanity, and returned to my bereaved home to attend to the solemn duties that awaited me there, one of the men whom I had been helping having promised me to tend the ferry, and bring over the undertaker when the latter should arrive at Eagle Koost. " When I entered my house I found my little waif fast asleep in the renovated, cradle, and received the important information from the neighbour who was rocking it that the child was a fine girl, some five or six weeks of age. " An hour later the undertaker and his assistants arrived, bringing with them my servant, Jess, with her parcels. They reported all the lower portion of the town of Wildeville, nearest the river, o-> ei'fiowed, and very much damaged. " The state of the roads was such,besides, they added, as would prevent anyone from coming to the house except such poor neighbours as lived on the Catamount Cliffs behind us. " Jess uplifted her hands, eyes and voice in utter amazement at the strange baby, and the story of its presei'vation ; but the exigencies of the occasic .. coon forced her from the contemplation oi Jhafc wonder. "My poor mother had but a small funeral. We took her remains that afternoon to the Red Sandstone church-yard, and laid them beside #iose of my father, " The day after the flood and the funeral

* That this incident is not -without its parallel must be known to all readers of newspapers, who have seen it recorded that in the great fldod at Pittsburg in the summer of 1874, amid the whirling chaps of wrecked houses, fences, trees, dead cattle, and all the horrible dobris of the inundation, a cradle floatdd, with a baby in it. The baby, when rescued, was perfectly safe and well.

found the river fallen to its normal state, and entirely free from floating bodies of any sort, for all that had not been recovered had been carried down the current on toward the sea. " I made inquiries in all directions concerning two matters - first, the parents or friends of the child I had rescued ; and next, of the belated travellers who had come to Eagle Roost Landing in the midst of the storm, and had taken refuge in the ferry-house there for the night. "But all my investigation proved fruitless ; and from that day to this no clue to the fate of the lost travellers or to the foundling's parentage has ever been discovered. 1 kept the waif brought me by the Wilde, and fche grew to be the greatest comfort of my declining years. "Such, dear Gertrude, is the true story of your adoption. Come and kiss me, my darling." Gertrude put her arms around the old man's neck, and meekly and gravely pressed her lips to his Then the ferryman continued ! "There was great suffering from the effects of that flood, my dear. Many poor families were reduced fiom decent poverty to perfect destitution. The wealthy planters of the country, however, subscribed large sums for their relief, and soon rebuilt their houses and restocked their little farms. No one refrained from helping them most liberally except General Slaughter, who refused to give one dollar to their relief, and swore an awful oath that ' it was a great pity the ' poor white trash ' had not been drowned along with their pigs and their poultry, which altogether would have been a good riddance to bad rubbish.' " There is not much more to tell you of this period of your life, my little True, except this, which I reserved for the last — a wonderful vision that I had on the evening after I had come home from my mother's funeral. " The kind neighbours had restored the house to order, and had returned home. Old Jess was in the kitchen, crooning a melancholy Methodist hymn. Although the month was July, the evenings in the mountains were chilly, and the inundation had left the hou.se damp and cold. Therefore, for the tender baby's sake, as well as for our own, a bright little wood fire had been kindled in the parlour fireplace, and I was sitting in my big arm-chair before it, enjoying the warmth. " The btiby was sleeping in its cradle, which had also been drawn up near the fire, and at my right hand. " Being very much exhausted from want of rest, I sat back in my chair, closed my eyes, and fell in to a deep and dreamless sleep that lasted unbroken for many hours, until at length I awoke quite naturally, and much refreshed. " I was surprised, on glancing up to the clock, to see that it was near four in the morning. I had slept in my chair all night. Still I was not disposed to move. I sat back and closed my eyes again to dream, but not to sleep. "No sooner, however, were my eyes closed upon the scenes of this world than they were opened upon those of the other. " I saw the 100 m in which I sat, with my own fireside, and the baby in her cradle ; but all - how shall I describe it ? - rariticd, ethrealised, touched with a halo of beauty and glory. On the other side of the baby's cradle, and opposite me, stood three angelic foims. The first I recognised as my mother, although more fresh and youthlul than I had ever seen her, even in my childhood ; next my mother stood my beautiful Lily, with her fair brow and radiant hair, silver in the sunshine and golden in the shade ; and next my Lily .stood — a mystery !— a fair and fragile form, so exactly like that of j my Lily that it really seemed a faint and delicate reflection of herself as if in a shaded mirror. " As I gazed in an ecstasy of awe, the heavenly vision melted away, and the commonplace world was around me again. " I never afterwards saw those three forms together again. I have seen my Lily many times, but 1 have never again seen either of the other two. "And now, my treasured Gertrude, l have told you how the little child of my adoption became the greatest blessing of my declining years. You know what your life has been with me, my love." " Yes, dear grand, it has been one of the sweetest peace and comfoi t from the beginning down to this day," replied the maiden, in meek gladness. "I thank the Lord for that, my love. But what I meant to say was simply this — that as you already know what your life has been with me, it would be useless even to touch upon the history of that long inten al between the epoch of your adoption, fifteen years ago, and this of General Slaughter's death, which occurred last night, and of which I must now speak to you." ' ' Yes, dear grand ! Tell me what General Slaughter said or did to move you so deeply ; as he seems to have done," said Gertrude. " My little True, he told me on his deathbed a secret, in the life and death of my Lily, that I had never known nor even suspected before — a secret, Gertrude, that has aged me twenty years ! How that old man could have lived so long with such a secret on his conscience passes all my understanding ! Listen, my little Gertrude, to wha befell me, and what was told me last night ; for that will be the end of the old ferryman's long story, as well as the key to all that has gone before. Listen, then." The girl bent forward with a look of the deepest attention. The old man continued : ' " You know, my dear child, that whon I left here last night, attended by General Slaughter's groom, Saturn, it was storming furiously." "Do I not remember it? Oh, dear grand, I was very anxious about you." " Well, dear child, we had a very rough and rather perilous ride up the mountain pass, through the Btorm, last night, it is true ; but my mind was so absorbed in wonder as to why Hiram Slaughter had sent for me, at such a time, alter thirty years of hatred and estrangement, that I was really scarcely conscious of the dangers of the way. It was the sure instinct of the horses rather than my attention that took xl* safe through awful perils of that journey. •' The struggle up that terrible mountain pass through c night and storm and darkness,' amid overwhelming winds, deluging rain, deafening thunder, and blinding lightning took more time than we had calculated on. "It was, therefore, near midnight when at length we reached the high, wooded ledge on which, like the Ogre's Castle in the nursery tale, stood the dark and grim old 'Slaughter House,' called Hill Top Hall. No light or sign of life was visible in all its front. All was close, black, silent, and forbidding. But the thunder rolled over it, and the lightning flashed upon it as if the wrath of nature threatened it with destruction. " We dismounted before the house, and went up the stone steps leading to the front door. " Saturn knocked loudly, and then left me there, in the pouring rain, while he went; down and led the horses away to the stable. ' " After I had waited about ten minutes, the door was opened by the deaf iriute, Gad, who beckoned me into the vast, 1 dimly* lighted hall, signed une to take a seat, and then left me,

"I book off my web great-coat and hat, hung them on the rack, sat down, and waited for the return of the* mute messenger. , t " I think I must have waited full fifteen minutes, which, considering I had been summoned in haste, to hurry through a midnight storm, up a mountain pass, to at- : tend the wishes of a dying man, seemed a very strange delay ; but then everything was slow at Hill Top Hall. "At length, however, the deaf mute returned, and signed to me to follow him. " I arose and obeyed. ' ' He led me to the rear of the hall, opened an oaken door on the left, and admitted me into a va&t and dimlylighted apartment. All the rooms I had ever seen in that house— halls, chambers and saloons — were uncomfortably large and depressingly obscure, however. "I entered this great, gloomy apartment, and saw standing before me the loftiest, most masculine and most commanding, not to say the most severe-look-ing woman I had ever seen in my life. " This awful personage, clothed in dark green from head to foot, nodded, ' like Jove,' in condescending recognition of my presence, and, lifting her head until her lofty form leaned backwards like a leaning tower, she arrogantly demanded : '• ' Pray, my good man, are you Gilbert ' Haddock, the fisherman ? ' " ' My name, madam, is Gabriel Haddon, and my occupation that of a ferry-man, at your service, madam,' I answered, respectfully. " ' Quite right. It was a ferry-man that was wanted, not a fisherman,' said the severe lady. " ' May I inquire whom I have tho honour of addressing ?' I asked, on my own part. 1 ' The lofty woman looked astonished at my insolence, and ansAvered, stiffly : ' ' You may. I am Miss Rowley, of River Cliffs, the niece of General Slaughter. •' I bowed low to the announcement. " ' My uncle has ordered you to be sent for. He has some directions to give you, she explained. "( I am at General Slaughter's service during his illness. He fa ill, lam led to suppose, madam.' '"He is dying, my man,' stiffly replied the lofty woman, eyeing me from head to foot, as though she would ovei whelm me with the force of her dignity. "'I am sorry to hear this. Shall I wait upon General Slaughter at once?' I inquired". "'You shall. You were sent for that purpose. Follow me, Haddock— Haddam — what is your name ?' " ' Haddon, at your orders, madam. 7 "'Oh, ay, Hatton ! A Veil, Hatton, follow me.' "I bowed and walked after her ' Highness ' from the room out again into the great hall, and up the broad staircase to the hall above, in the lear of which she opened a door, leading into a room that seemed from its position to be just above the one we had left. '* ' Come in,' she said in a low but authortiative tone. u And we entered. (To be Continued. )