THE STORYTELLER.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume L, Issue 59, 12 April 1907, Page 4

THE STORYTELLER.

VERBIKDER'S MISTAKE. 'Ah, it is you. Captain Vcrrinder. How ■io you do';" Marion Temple rose from her seat at the tall soldier's entrance,'and extended her hand. Captain Cecil Vcrrinder, more commonly known, both in and out of the regiment, as "Dandy," muttered a conventional reply as he took it. •\>uil.- refreshingly warm this al'lernoon, i- it no'?" remarked Marion, as resumed her seat in the window. I'll was no immediate answer from her visitor, and a painful silence ensued. _ during which he looked at lier questioning! v several times, liut at lu„t, and ' iih an abruptness that was qui!'! startling, he spoke: "I, 'net your mint just now." "Yes?" She raised her dcliealelypencilled eyebrows ever so slightly. "Is that intended to be a complete item of news; Captain Verrindei"; or is there an interesting scqoal arising out of your encounter with my aunt?" She laughed, a tiille nervously; bin her companion did not even smile. This circumstance, by the way, may be set down as signilicanl. for, as a rule, any amusement on the part of the 'jiil was sufficient for laughter on his. "Sin-e you ask the question," he said, speaking with difficulty, "her remarks were not without interest—at least to me. She told me that you are going to marry Maurice Oreysoni'' ° " There was silence for perhaps a minute— which, under certain circumstances, can 1 c made to appear an interminable time— and then Verrinder repeated bis remark, or, at least, the contentious part of it. "\V ell in a tone of inquiry. "Well— can't you answer? Are vou?" impatiently. . . "Wi-.y?" calmly. * " ' The pink, almost boyish cheeks of the young officer took a deeper tinge. His blue eyes darkened. "Why ? Reason enough, and to spare, I shou'd think, after behaving in the way you have done. Drawing me on until I care for nothing in the world hut to have you beside me. Why? Because I put yon on a pedestal above all others of your sex, and now I find you are no better than the rest—careless and fickle, a heartless coquette!" Marion rose from her seat, her cheeks (lushed, and her brown eyes shining, and spoke with a quiet dignity which became her well, but which Verrinder had never seen i;er assume before. "Captain Vcrrinder, von forget yourself!" The man shrugged his shoulders, anil laughed mirthlessly. "Foigct myself!"l daresay. It is women I'kc vou who drive men to n.adiiess But 1 will not inflict my presence on you any longer. I can see you are anxious to be rid of me—expecting Greyson, no douot'. Cjoort afternoon," and, rising quicivl/. he strode out of the room out uirther word. He made his way back to the barracks, walking uncertainly, like a inun in a dream, and mounted the narrow stone I staircase which led to his quarters, passing his companions with a grumpy salutation, in a manner entirely foreign to his nature. lie sank down in an armchair in front, of the fire, and wearilv | stretcned out his long legs until ins hoots almost touched the bars of IhV grate. A smell of scorched leather immediately arose, but it went unheeded. So it had been in vain, this love of months - this love that would last for years. It was all over and done with, this dream which had been so sweet while it lasted. The day was past, and the sun had set, and Maurice had wo.-i the girl. He, poor fool, had been trying to warm himself at another man's altar fire. He felt sick of himself and the world around him.

And he and Greyson had been such chums—"inseparables," they had boon called -but now the love 'of a woman had come between them. His was a double loss; he would never be the sann; to Maurice again, and the girl—the n-irl he had insulted past all forgiveness!'" ''.Millrice would be with her now," lie supposed. "Perhaps—perhaps he might be!" A dark blush mantled his cheeks, running upward to the roots of his fair, wavy hair. "Why, he had kissed her onee! Last Wednesday it was, and—and tli's was only Friday. What a foul he had been! Confound her!" he muttered, savagely. Fro l ,i force of habit, he stretched out his hand towards the tobacco-jar, and then he shook his head. Tobacco was no sohce now—nothing was, or could be, any solace now! And the emptv pine fell ihceded at his feet. lie felt very tired "tireder," he thought, than after the hardest iield-day. lie wished lie coul.l sleep. Yes, sleep—without dreams —would 1)3 very welcome now. • H. The sun had risen. In D,e previous short half-hour of dawn the assault had been delivered; the Dervish forces had been driven from their cj Irenchtncnts, and now the black, grinning "Gippys" were fraternising and Iriuniplmg with their laughing and dialling white comrades. Backward, across the half-mile of plain, the surgeons were busy. Away to ) the southward could lie heard the sounds of pursuit, as the British Lancers chased the fi/ing Baggara. A field hospital at the front is not a pleau'.t sight, neither can it be describe] in solid black and white. Wai cony pendents, as a rule, judicious'v > avoid n. Ie than the merest mention >f • such places. There were some ghastly cases, and both surgeons and assistants worked , like : rcjaiis. Hut at last the pressure was O'er, and things could lie taken more easily. "Xv, Greyson, let's see!" said Kmgeo'i lla-or Murphy, approaching an ollicer, v!io lay moaning on a stretcher who had lain so for half an hour at least. The doctor looked bis patient over, gave a low whistle, aud turned to a tall man who came up at the moment. "I say, Dandy,'' he said, "this is worse than 1 thought.'' "El-.? Ilow do you mean':" "lie's dune for—dying!" Captain VerrinJer stnrted, and bent over the litter. He was looking worn and weary, his eyes wpre bloodshot, his fair hair tousled, and his face black with powder. Although, he looked very different from the spruce, smart soldier who had left Dublin a few months ago ; but the regiment had seen some stiff service since its arrival, and in the recent engagement hail suffered most Severely. The prostrate man was moaning and muttering, not more than half-conscious. "Dandy, where are you ? Can't you find him, you chaps ? Won't he come ? I—l must speak to him, 1 tell yon !" Dandy raised the wounded man, so as to give him greater ease in speaking, and, kneeling down in the soft sand, he piilowed Grevson's head on his shoulder as gently as a woman might have done. "I'm here, old chap,' he said. "Those dogs have done for nic tliu time," aputcd the other. 'That confounded knife sliced me from the shoulderstrap to the breast-bone. "I—T'n booked 1" Verrinder did not speak'—there was nothing he could say—but his eyes rested compassionately upon tbo pain-drawn face of his old-time friend. What a change there was ! He had not spoken to Greyson for three years, except in a pujelv official manner, and what, a fol he had been ! After ai, it had done no good cutting Greyson and his wife ; it had only shown what a beastly temper he had, and he did himself* more harm than good, for no one could have guessed how much he missed the sood-fcllowship of his friend. Why, they bail been school-fellows together when they were little chaps ill knee-breeches, and from the first, day of their acquaintance until the one on which they met Marion Tcmpie. there had never been a serious quarrel ibetv.'een them. Their friendship had been a strong bond which no man could have had the power to lessen, and yet which a woman's eyes had completely severed. His thoughts bad reached this point wh"n Greyson -poke again. "Are von still there, Dandy 1" "Yes.'old chap, always here. What's the bother now For he guessed thai the troubled brow spell menial rather than physical pain. The dying man's lips moved h- if !il an attempt I" speak bis w'fe's name : but the rdher divined the word, and answered. firmly : "Yes. I'll see to her— and file child. Don't you worry, old man." Grevson's brow cleared, but he was almost, too weak to speak. "Dandy, old chum, don't lei her bo lonely. She—oh. how can T sav it! she never cared for me: and T—my God! how T loved her! ft was yon, Dandy—you all the time!" cold sweat broke out upon Verrinder's forehead, and he shook, as though with ague. Hut he pulled himself "together by a supreme effort. "Nonsense, man, nonsense! you don't know what you're savin'/. Keep quiet now. and try to sleep. We'll cheat that dirty Arab yet."

Tin* dying man forced a .smile. '■You're tile same dear old Dandy," ho , faintly. ''lt's quite—quite like ohltime Yes, I think I'll I sleep now. It's getting dark, and—and jl'm tired, Rood-night., old man." | "<!ood-niglit," murmured Dandv, villi his eyes on the blazing ball of tiie Eastern smi—anil Ins face twitched. I \A hen Ihe doctor came by. nearly an hour afterwards. Vcrrinder was still kneeling in the sand, and tile other's | head was resting on his shoulders. J lull —still here?" greeted the limn I of medicine, kindly. I "Hush!"' said Dandy; "lie's asleep i now." | The doctor peered into th» still face, jand then, laying his hand on Verrinjder's shoulder, said, gently: J ''Put him down, my Jail. and come inway. Nothing w'll ever wake him now.'' The oilier looked ai; liini for an inI sin lit. as though dazed, and llien tenderly laid Hie dead mall's bead upon the ( hard roll pillow. This done, be rose jsliflly to his knees. The white, bare ! desert stretched away on all sides like I a deserted sea. and. to Yerriudor. stand j iug there bv his dead ebum. il seemed hike tile dreary, trackless wast:' of his future life. ''Come along." sa d tile doctor, again, with kindly insistence. "You can do no good here." Handy stooped once more over ille prone form. '"He—he was my chum," he said, brokenly. Tiien, with a last, lingering look at the dead, still face, he suffered himself to he led a\vav. III." "Captain C. YerriirJcr.'' Mrs Grayson's face paled as the inscription on the visitor's card carried its message to her brain, and there was the slightest possible flutter about her fingers as she turned the handle of tile drawing-room door. But the man who rose to meet her wits far. less composed. "You wili—cr—pardon my intrusion," he faltered. "I—l shouldn't have come, only it was his wish. T was with liini at the end, you see." "I am glad," she. said, quietly. ''Tell me all you can about—about il. The oflieial announcement was all the news I had." Dandy pulled himself together, and, with much gentleness, recounted the scene at Dargai, speaking of Gi'eyson's death as a painless one. She detected the kindly lie, as well ns 'the tears in his voice, and impulsively held out her hand to him. It looked like* a snowflake in the bronze of hi's ~ and Verriiuler glanced quickly from it'to the face above. She was still the Marion of his early love. Five years had only served to mature her charms. To the sweetness of expression was added n certain wistful gravity; to the lines 'of her figure a certain fulness—that was all. "How ill you are looking!" she said, solicitously, as there hands fell a.part again. lie laughed, rather forcedly. "Yes, I'm hardly so lit as usual,t* li'e. answered. "Those beasts of Arabs nearly did for me tOo." Then there was silence; both were thinking of something which had happened long ago, and neither could utter the ordinary conventional remarks in the ordinary conventional tone. So they sat there silent, neither daring to look at the other,'find, if the truth must lie told, unutterably and foolishly happy. Suddenly 'the door hurst, open to admit a tiny replica of Marion, who on seeing a stranger in the room, ran quickly to her mother's side. "Captain Dandy,mamma?" she asked, shyly. Yerrinder started at the sound of his pet name on the child's lips; then, recovering himself, he held out his arms. To his surprise, she ran into them, as if glad to conic. "Oo is nicer ihan I thought. Captain Dandv." she confided, with charming spontaneity. "Lots prettier than the picture.'' He followed the direction of her gaze, and saw on the mantlepiece what he had not noticed before—his own photograph, taken in civilian ill-ess. "Oo's a pwoper soldier-man now,'' asserted the small replica of Marion, surveying his heinedalled tunic with evident approval. "A real, swell fightin' genl'maii." "Am I" he asked, amusedly. "Well. I'm awfully obliged to you for the compliment, I'm sure. But, tell me, little one. how did you know my name?'' f The child nodded her head quickly in the direction of the only other occupant of the room. "Mamma!" she said, comprehensively. "Mamma" did nothing but blush. "Lou remembered the old name, then?" said the soldier, softly. "You' did not forget me utterly?"

Tin? woman gave ;,j m ;l quick fvlunco, but her eyes fell as they met hi-. What \ erriudcr saw in the look, however, flootinpr though it was, made his heart bound in liis breast. Jlc put tile child gently down, mid strode over to lier side. "I want 1o ask you a question, Marion; I want to know why you treated me so eruelly that day five years ago?" She did not answer, hut, snatching a hook from a side-table, began rapidly turning over the leaves. Verrinder quietly took possession of the hook, and placed it out of reach. "\ T ow, tell me Marion." / Hut, instead of replying, she picked np the poker and bewail stirring the already glowing lire, very greatly to its detriment. A moment later he had confiscated tire poker also. 'H you please," he said. ''l'm wa'fcing." His tone was firmer this time, and Marion, with a look at the face of the tall soldier towering above her, knew he would not be denied. "It was—aunty/' she said, in scarcely audible tones. "Your aunt!" he exclaimed "How can that he.' Surely, you tliil not marry Maurice at her instigation?" "T did. She drove mn to it. You know how mercenary she was, and I was entirely dependent, on her. Maurice knew from the first he had onjy my love. 1 gave him gratitude—all that was mine to give—and he was satisfied." Yerrinder looked down at her, intensely puzzeled and bewildered. '•lint if money was the object, surely T was as desirable as—as Maurice, being worth at least twice as much. Wily, then, did you rejeel mv love?" "Reject your love!" "Ye-j, T know that is. Maurice eon- | fessed to me. just before he died, that yon—you cared for me. If you did, ever ever so little, why didn't you marry me?" ■"Really! Can you think of no reason?" she asked. "Xone, unless, since Maurice had forestalled me, you couldn't." "Maurice did not forestall you. I gave liiin his answer a week after you came." "Rut, good Heavens! your aunt said—" "Yes, T know, and von took it for granted, and were rude, and called me. a lot of awful, undeserved names. Now didn't you?" "flod help me—yes!" ''And you said you liked mo betler than anyone else, and all that: but'* with a soft little laugh—" you never asked me to marry von!" Ife gazed al her blanklv for a moment, then: "li.v jove!" he said, breathlessly, springing forward, and clasping her in bis arms; "I don't believe T did!" I