The Storyteller.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume XLVII, Issue 7831, 25 May 1905, Page 4

The Storyteller.

THE LAST WORD. " Here you arc, sir ! Jump in ! " Guy Torrington sprung lightly into the rapidly-moving train, tossed the accommodating station-porter ai shilling, and seated himself, with a sigh of satisfaction, on the cushioned, seat of a first-cjass compartment. j '■' Won by an eyelash ! " ho soliloq"uiscd. " Shouldn't huve Jiked niiss[fng it; Hat's the worst of this confounded line—they're always so beastly punctual ! " He smiled grimly as be took out his watch. " Only nine minutes after schedule time ! " he grumbled. "A man always reckons on ten. Anyhow, I'm here—that's one comfort ! I. wonder how many, hours we snail be in • getting to 1 London. Not many, I trust. Well, I'd best make myself Comfortafalo. Thank the Fates it's an empty Carriage I So here goes ! Rules and regulations notwithstanding., I'm going to put my patent porpoise-hide water-tights' up on yonder seat I '" Hello—what's this ?•—The PinceNez'—A. Journal for. ladies ! Gsoat Jupiter, what a lind ! Some fair damsel left it here, I suppose. What sort of twaddle is in it ? I hope it is not improper for me to read it ! Doesn't look very thrilling. I. think Til risk it." He made a wry face, smiled comically, put his feet up on thoopposit seat, settled himself back composed ly, and opened the paper he had pinked up. " No, it was not exactly thrilling. But, somehow, the articles interested him. ( A strong undercurrent of commonsenso ran through them all, every now and then a flash ofi tjuick humour caused him to smile in undisguised appreciation. '" Not such a rag as I anticipated! " he commented, as he turned over the leaves. "Of course, there's the usual ten colums of rhapsodical bunkutn about millinery and dressmaking, together with one or ' twe items on the same art too. obscure for the shallow male mind to comprehend. But, all round, 'The PinceNez' doesn't seem such a bad lot. I wonder who runs the show ! "•

He turned -to the last page and ead at its foot the following information :

'■• Published by, Messrs Byron and Gray, 61© Fleet Street, London, and Edited by Miss Iris St. Pierre."

His : feet came down to the floor and he sat up straight, Had a bullet whizzed through the carriage window, ho could not have been more completely staggered'. " Iris Sf 'Pierre!"" And she was the Editress of "The Pince-Nez ! "

There couldn't possibly be two women of that name. It was t o o uncommon. What should he do ? All tho old memories came flooding bac upon him, and in his deep grey eyeswas a far-away, look that spoke of pain, of regret, and of something deeper and stronger than all else—oi love.

-The shriek of the engine-whistle 'startled him from his day dreams. 'They were entering Victoria. Hi rose to. his-'feet, threw open the carriage door, and stepped out on to the platform. -He passed.through the barrier and out of the terminus. Then, hailing a hansom, he drove to his hotel. He pulled himself together as he entered his rooms and sat down by the window. Then, for the first time he became aware that "Die PincejNez was still in his hand.

He looked at it in a vague, unseeing sort of way, revolving iEihis mind a dozen different plans of ac- - Uon. For months he had been scours ing England in search of Tris St. Pierre. And now that he had found her, how was he t 0 approach her ? The.position was a delicate one, and .much, verymuch, was at stake. Moreover, he wa« conscious of a feeling. of shame, together with an uncomfortable premonition ; Uiat his advances would meet- with scant courtesy. He was no Coward. Few men are, except when "it comes to facing a woman. Yet he must see her. The 'happiness of' his , whole future life whs-involved. But were there no means by which' he might pave the way, as it<were?

He looked vacantly out at tho traffic in the street below. But that afforded, him neither hope nor inspiration. With a. sigh he brought his gaze hack to the cause of all this inward perturbaton—The TinceNezs Almost mechanically, he turned over the pages* And then an idea came to him. It seemed almost childish at first, but it clung to him persistently and would not bo shaken off. Finally, he drew his chair to the tab?c„ got out pen, ink, and paper, and prepared to write. For the first time in all his life, Guy Torrington had made up his mind to write a story. • • » *

Iris St. Pierre sat in her sanctum and frowned as she gazed at the pile of unopened correspondence that lav upon her writingrtablc. Before her lay a foolscap envelope directed in a bold dashing hand with which sh seemed to be curiously familiar.

True, she had not seen that particular style of hand-writing for nearly seven years. But there are some things in life that seem to stimulate the memory to an abnormal degree.

Her fingers trembled a little as she broke the seal and drew forth what tho envelope contained.- A short I manuscript, and a letter. Ah, a let- | ter ! It was excessively .brief,, but it caused the soft, creamy complexion the delicate face to flush with sudden emotion, I The Marldon Hote, Westminster, S.W. To the Editress of Tho Pince-Nez.

Madam,—Enclosed! is a short story. Will you give it your very earnest consideration. I- shall await your decision with far more anxiety than I can here express.—Yours faithfully, Guy Torrington. On the surface, the letter appeared to come from a mere, btginner whoso successes were so few that the fate oil a manuscript made him "more anxious than he could express." But Iris St. Pierre knew that this was not the case. Some deeper meaning lurked in that closing sentence, ard she picked up the manuscript to see ;f it provided a solution to the problem.

With parting lips an d. Heaving boso.n ah.- began to read. At fiibt the did not grasp the real signiucimce of the story. But gradually the truth dawned upon her, and she read on with growing interest. The storywas short enough, and ran as Colon's : A FOOL AND HIS FOLLY. A great white moon hung low over the forcstt of broad box and gnarled gum as the squatter cantered his horse across a dark, straight stretch of paddock-land to the homestead beyond'. Ho had ridden hard all day, and the stout little bush-brumby was well-nigh spent. : It was the first occasion of his visiting tie station since the installation of its new manager two years ago. For the new manager had; proved so capable and trustworthy that the squatter, who superintended, the more important station ninety miles to the westward, had seen no reason to interfere with the arrangements he had instituted. The squatter himself was by no means a settler- born and bred', having only come out to Australia six years before. But fortune had smile upon him from the outset. He had invested his few thousands in a promising station and stock, and the investment had proved a lucky one. Lately he had purchased another—tho one ho was now approaching—and this, too, under the management of the present superintendent, was turning out a very good thing indeed. Dismounting, he stepped on to tho dark verandah of the little homestead and rapped at the outer door.. ] It opened, and ho stepped within. Entering a r g om jo tjie front of the

house:, and which was evidently usfil aa a sittingi-room, the manage.' proferod the visitor 11 chair. ■'• Well, Ferry," said the Squatter, "so you want my permission to clear another lit'ty acres'.' Do you think it wise ? Suppose a drought should sot in ? "

"True," replied the manager. "Bui 1 think it's worth the risk. The stock is increasing, and we want till the grass we can get." He was a young man—not more than seven-and-twenty—with a pleas ing expression of .countenance which was only marred by a chin which was certainly not indicative of resolution or determination. But since he had been in the service of the squatter,, this tendency to natural weakness- had never once shown itself.

" Well, do as you like," said .the Squatter. " By-thc-way, can you let me have a list o! your stock to da to ? 1 should like to run over it before you show me my room." The manager opened a small draw er in a side table and took out a paper,, which ho placed before his chief. The latter scanned it for a few moments in silence. Then he said :

" i'erry, this is a good report., must show my appreciation of you ability and energy in some practica way. You huve had £250 a yea hitherto. 1 think we can add anof.i er hundred to it now, and made it £350."

He looked up ns he; finished speaking. The (managers face flushed and a look of undisguised pleasure came into hisl cyesv ' . il

•'•' It is very good of you,"' he said not without a trace' of emotion. "The money is, of course, exceeding ly acceptable. But the knowledge that my services have been appreciated and praised is of in'i<jte mor<. value to me."

Tho sojuatter then smiled pleasant ly, but remarked brusquely I "Nonsense, Perry ! So far as the money goes', you have well earned every penny of it. And, as to th rest, I couldn't do less in the fac of such evidence as I<h'is." And h touched the, stock-list with hist hand " I say," he continued, as a sudde idea struck him./'jif it is not an im pertinent question, what were yo doing''before you came to this coun try ? "

A queer, startled look came int( the young manager's eyes. For a moment or two he hesitated. Koticeing dt, the squatter interposed. "Don't tell me if you prefer not to," he said frankly. " X have no wish to force your confidence. But I feel a 1 (deep respect for your un'(tuestjonable abilities, and merely wondered that they were not appreciated in the old land." The words and tone were kind. The next instant, the manager had partially yielded to the Impulse to tell the truth. " The fact is," he said, somewhn shamefacedly, '• I turned my abilities in those days into channels of different type. I'm afraid my reputa tion then occasioned those who kne\ me best the gravest uneasiness, think you will understand. The squatter nodded. (To be continued.)

In a brief conversation about the Mormons ..who are quietly , working among the Maories in different parts of Hawke's Bay, a gentleman wel acquainted with the native race in formed the Hawke's Bay Herald ho did not realiy know of anything) that "Could be said against these, missionaries. There was, of course, the prejudice that arose at thq very men tion of the name Mormon, but so far as he knew the representatives of the ChurcK of Latter Bay fchrjnts here did nothing at ail in tho way of inculcating polygamy.: One great thing to be put to their credit was that all their influence was against the use of intoxicating' litruors. They were abstainers themselves', and their adherents' followed their examples tolquite a noticeable and extremely gratifying degree l . Thu Mormons, too, not content with learning the Maori language andi studying Maori ways and lines of thought lived among the natives and encouraged them to adopt the practical benefits of civilisation and those ruJes ol life and conduct that tended to good health.-

A request was recently made by the National Dairy Association to the Union Steam Ship Company that properly insulated steamer:) should be provided to carry dairy produce from Onchunga and coustal ports to Wellington, for transshipment to London. The Association has now received a reply from th company, stating that the matte will be atteoded to before the opening of tho next dairying season. Th Corinna ia already suitable insulated for tho carriage of dairy produce, and it is possible that her capacity may be increased, or that another steamer may be insulated. During: the season just closed, between ninety and a hundred, thousand boxes of butter were sent down the coast to Wellington.