THE EMPTY SLEEVE.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume L, Issue 324, 25 January 1908, Page 3

THE EMPTY SLEEVE.

(Hy D. \V. 0. Fagiin, in Novel Magazine) "Aunt Catherine, you promosed to tell me the story of Uncle Tom's empty -leave." It was 1, Dorothy Wynne, who spoke, a-i we sat together in the gloaming be-I'm-e a bright log fire in Aunt Catherine's eo-iy room at Te Kapaha. Aunt's tweet-smiling face became grave, and I feared that 1 had awakened painful memories. "Dear," I said, "1 did not know. I Kit* thoughtless. If it hurts you to remember, forgive inc and do not tell." "Child," she replied, "there are to painful recollections in my mind. Kallier, I look back to that lime with l'i\iiil gladness, for it was then love eame to me. Jjstcn:" It wa- on a Sunday afternoon, forty if.ir- ago. At a table spread in the I'niigh, unlined room of a board house, -at a party of three—Mr and Mis AiV ley and myself. Beside Mrs Ashley's e!,air tli-'ir baby slept quietly in its I ■ ladle. I hiirl i-niiic up from (jisborne, where niv iat!"i and mother lived, to slay a umm '■: im;'h tile Ashley? in their new home. All ..i n> were new lo the country, having arrived from Kngland only a month ago. Young Frank A-dilny, on arrival, had 11ken u« nine hundred acres of land,

and settled down to sheep-farming. From my home iu tiisborue to Te Rapaha—yes, it's the same station I'm talking of—-was lifteen miles. 'Jhe smiling valleys and downs yon oier on your journey here were al ilia I lime eovered tliiek with headhigh I'ern and eoarse tussock-grass. Insiead of the good road on which you drove, there was only a rough bridleIraek. thai followed the ridge ol' the ranges down the spur to the river, which ».i- eio.-ed by a lord. The neighboring block ol laud had been taken up by a Air Tom Preston, a bachelor, young, tall, and handsome, ile was a frequent visitor to the Alleys', and, though lie spoke no word, I knew thill he loved me, and waited only the

opportunity to tell me so. Hut 1 was possessed with foolish pridi and would not give him the chance h craved. I liked to feel my power, am make him feel it, too. ily kuigh should serve aud sigh long ere he wol me. JSut, all the time, 1 was glad am proud of the love he offered. We were sitting alter dinner oni evening, talking of the Homeland am this new country that was to be oui home, when of a sudden there came tin thud, thud of the galloping horses. 'i a minute they reached the gate. Tin latch clicked, and a hurrying footsie; came up the garden path. In a moment the door was thrown open, and Tom Preston, hot, dusty, his clothes all torn aud soiled, strode into the room.

"L'p," he cried, "Te Kooti has escaped from the Chatham Islands, and uas landed with two hundred followers. He's on his way to join the Hau-llau robe's, and is murdering all the settlers on his line of mariih. They're at Wilson's place now. I heard the women screain- .. a~ 1 came by. God help them all!

I made a detour through the bush to avoid them. Get the horses, quick. .Some of the brutes are mounted. it won't take them long to finish at Wilson's, and theyll be here any time now. 1 have a led horse for Aliss Oxley and will look to her. We must ride for life lo tiisborue." L'ntil that moment we had thought ourselves ipiite secure. The land was at peace. The long war was ended. All but a few irreeoneiliable Alaoris in the King Country had given allegiance. Tc

Kuuti and lii-i band had been bauislufl to the Chatham Islands. But, Te Kooti loose again t» work his wicked will on tin' oiitsctllers!

One moment, witli pale facts, we looked each into the other's startled eyes. Then with a cry .Mrs Ashley taught her bully to hoi' breast, crying: "Oil, Frank, our baby, our darling boy; save him, save him."

Frank Ashley caught up his rillc, and for one second looked as if he would iUiy to defend his home to the kit. hit in the next he realised the hopelessless of the attempt. What could two men, however brave, mil hampered by two helpless women mil a little child, do against two hutilicd bloodthirsty Maoris' So, instant light was our only chance. Quicker than 1 can tell, Tom and ■'rank caught the horses and brought hem saddled to the door. A> we were, without thought of extra lotliiiig. Mr„ Ashley and I ran out.

Frank swung Laura into the saddle, lounled himself, and took the baby urn my arms. Tom, who was leading

up my horse and his own, shouted: "Off with vou, don't wait. Take (lie old track by Watson's mill. We'll overtake you this side of the ford.'' And away they galloped.

Then to me he said: •'.Now, Miss Oxley, let me lift you up. And," (|iiitc seriously, "1 must apologise for asking vou to ride a man's saddle, but 1 had no other.' Playing my foot on his hand, with a spring 1 was mounted and sitting like a Centaur. Hastily adjusting the stirrups to my feet, and re-buckling the leathers to the proper length, Tom vaulted to bis own saddle and we spurred away. Ai we came up from the valley we saw. just topping the rise of the range not a mile liehind us, twenty or thirty mounted Maoris. At th" same instant they saw us. and. with a whoop, urged their hori-es to full speed in pursuit. We rode like the wind over the stony track, llalf-a-mile ahead the path fell steeply down the. slope of the gorge, at the bottom of which ran the river. In a minute we should leave the grass country and enter the high fern with which the slope of the descent was clad. At intervals in the wild race, a« the winding of the track permitted, we caught momentary glimpses of Fra-ik and Laura, riding furiously; the short delay we had made had sulliced to give them a good start, and they had gained almost a mile. 'The horses seemed intuitively .to recognise our danger, and what was expected of them. With outstretched necks and sweating Hanks they flew along. iNever had I ridden so fast in all my life. My breath came in gasps from the speed of our pace. Tom rode clore beside me.

"Well done, Miss Oxlcy," he shouted. 'Stick your knees into the saddle jind dt well"back. Hurrah! We're gaining,

and shall beat them yot." That moment, without warning, my horse, stumbling on a loose stone, pitched forward, fell on its head, and rolled over. 1 was Hung clear of the saddle, fortunately falling into a thick clump of fern beside the track.

I must have lost my senses for a minute, for, when I regained consciousness, Tom was oil his horse, and, with his anus around me, held me. in a sitting posture.

"Kate—Miss Oxley, are you hurt?" be asked.

'f don't think so," 1 answered, "on'.y ikon."

"Can you stand?" he said, and lifted me to my feet. J was trembling from shock, and slightly bruised, but otherwise unhurt. Kapidly mounting, Tom cried: "(Jive me. your hand, l'ut your foot on mine. .Now spring so." And I was seated on the pommel of his saddle. "My horse ?" 1 said. "Foor Jenny has had her last gallop,' he answered, "she broke her neck as she fell." The accident had delayed us hardly a minute, and yet in that short space the Maoris had gained on us to such an extent, that they were within half-a-uiile.

W'c had now entered the fern, and begun Hie descent to the river. Although our pursuers were no longer .'n sight., we could hear the thud of their horses' hoot's coming nearer. Under the double burden Tom's hor.se began to Hag. The slope was steep, and the path covered with loose stones, so that our progress was slow, Between the sheltering tern and tile ifurd, there lay an open space of fifty yards or so, in crossing which we would again be exposed to view. Ere half the descent had been accomplished, we heard above us a yell of triumph and exultation, and knew that our pursuers had reached the spot where I fell and where the dead horse lay. They made sure of taking us then. '"Join," 1 said, "shoot me and escape yourself. No need for both to die." lie looked into my eyes and laughed. For reply lie clasped me tighter with liis right arm, whilst with his left he guided the iioi'bc. t We heard our pursuers begin the des- ' cent, brushing through the fern fronds ' , and coming nearer moment by moment. II we could only gain the level, whilst > !; they were still in difficulty on the rocky track, we might outdistance them. But < there seemed no hope. "Give me your pistol, Tom," I whispered. "Leave that to ny," he' answered hoarsely. ''As you will,'' I replied, "but never think of your mother nor look a woman in the lace again if you let me be taken alive." The long descent ended, and wo broke from the cover of the fern into the open. "Sit close," said Tom, "they'll try a shot at us here." And he endeavored to shield me as much as possible with his own body. Urging the tired horse to a eanter, >vc lud gone scarcely half-way across the glade, when some of the Maoris who had remained on the ridge fired at us. 'Ting, zip, zip," sang the bullets all round. As each went droning by, 1 winced and clung closed to Tom's sheltering breast. We had reached, perhaps, within ten yards of the dip of the stream and shelter, when 1 heard the rending thud of a bullet striking living flesh and bone. Tom's right arm gripped me convulsively for a moment. 1 heard him give a grasping groan: bis hand dropped the reins. Swaying, as the horse stopped, we both fell to the ground. Then came 1a shout from the Maoris on the hilltop who saw us fall, answered by the others half-way down the slope.

I was on my teet in ii moment, and I saw, at it glance, Uiiil Tom's arm was diattcrod near tin- shoulder. | "Take Hie horse, Kale, ijnic-k, and getaway. L'.'ave mo. I'm done for.! (Jo, dear. For Heaven's sikc, go!" he' gasped, ore he fell back fainting, j

The well-tunned horse suioil quid \ by. But i would iiul go. inning found my iovc, 1 would slay beside nun, eomo life or death.

Taking his revolver, 1 sat beside him, as he lay senseless, holding the muzzle against his heart. 1 would wail Uil ,lic -Maoris reached the open, llieii wkli one siiot kill my lover, and oolid Ike second through my own heart. 1 could hear our pursuers elatiering down tin- stony track, and mark their approach by the waving of Ihe fern as they brushed through it. Nearer, nearer, they came. One minute more, and then it is time. I had seldom prayed seriously in my life; with all my soul I prayed then: -Our Father . . • deliver us from

' I'vik" . ... f And niV prayer was answered. Like >' a Hash, the thought sprang to my hand: L ' -Fire the fern." 1 With a glad cry I caught up a box ol " matches that had dropped from Tonus ' pocket as In 1 tell, and ran towards a .lump of dead raupo grass at the edge 1 of the fern. Taking a handful of matches and ' striking "them all together, regardless of [ burnt lingers, 1 scattered them m the . dead grass. It was as dry as tinder, and caught lire at once, spreading rapidly to right ' an left; in a moment we were sale, separated from our enemies by a seething, roaring line of lire, through which nothing could pass alive. The lire swept, crackling up the opposite slope, consuming everything as it passed, and spreading rapidly to right and left. . 1 heard the cries of the Maoris, as they Ued in terror before the, racing llames. The drifting smoke hid a*om view, and i laughed grimly as 1 though Z pursuer, bad need o£ haste to reach the hilltop witnout a scorching. JM ning to where 1 had lelt lon, 1v ,., I found that he had regained consciousness. I told him what i had d °-T'lired'tlu' fern," I said, "and they Aly brave girl-my 'MIL" .lame- at the edge of the fire were travelling back against the wind towards us. It was time to move "Makiii" him lean on me, 1 led Tom s lo~wiy towards the river, down the bank, on to the bare shingle of its bed. Here there was no danger. Ihe gra»s and bushes beside the stream were moist and would not burn. Cuttiii" the eoat from his wounded arm 1 tore strips from the soft linen 0 my underskirt, bathed the shattered limb and bandaged it, and Horn the same material 1 made-a sling to support '\Tl worked, Tom, looking into my •■yes no doubt saw there what ho most desired. I would not let him speak till I had finished, then "Kate, is it true'r Aly darling. Do vou love meV ' The stress of our llight, and the dangers we had shared, banished all thought of maidenly reserve. I had found my love and niv soul lay bare before him Kneeling at his .-ide, as be lay back on the shingle Hank, 1 stooped and pressed my lips to his in a long kiss, wlns',eT)«i'r. I am yours. Take inc. now and for ever. 1 love you.'' Clasping me iu his unwounded arm, Tom covered my face with kisses. ( ••Aly little girl, my little girl,' he said. "Alay Uod forget me if fdo not ' make vou happy." With a sol, of happiness, I stood up, ■ and. putting on my sternest manner, said: , , '-.Now, sir, enough of this. I must ; get you quickly to succour. Do you | think you can ride! .Nay, dear, you ( must. There is no other way. 1 , will not leave you. See, 1 will lead the horse beside thin bank." Gradually, painfully, with my help, j Tom dragged himself up the bank. The ( docile horse stood by the bank, and, I . lifting, he slipped into the saddle. Willi on hand on the rein and one sup- ( porting the wounded man, 1 walked beside the horse. Across the ford, ' where the water reached only to my , knees, up the long ascent on the other ] side of the gorge till we r. :ehed the ] level. . . , . I Swaying in the saddle, half his weight { on the horse and half on my shoulder, . 1 brought my love slowly over .flic miles that led to safety. , Behind us, across the river, the now , darkened sky burnt blood-red from the j reilecti'-m of the (ire f had lit. ■ The ( whole length of the valley above and below the font was tilled with flame. ( The bush was ablaze. I could hear the ( great trees eoine crushing down, as the t fire swept onward. Right and left it. ( had spread, till now it covered a front ] of many miles, There was no further . fear from Te Kooti and his band.

Tom murmured: "How far? 1 cannot go much longer. Take the horse, ride on and let jne lie."

I would not. 1 knew it was unsafe to leave him. The natives all round would be wildly excited at Te Kooti's landing, and iinding a wounded pakehii would make short work of him. _ "See, Tom," 1 cried, "only a mile further. The troopers are caniped in the old redoubt."

Delirium came with the fever of hie wound, and, his mind swinging back to childhood, he prattled to me as to his mother. And I chid him as a child, bidding him sit straight on his horse; laughing and chattering to hearten him. So we dragged on a little farther. A hundred yards, two hundred, three hundred. The horse seemed to know what was required of them, and foil softly,

warily. The wounded man breathed hard. His body swayed moro to one side, and his weight was heavier on my tired shoulders, 1 expected him to fall every moment. Duly a horseman's instinct, bad enabled him to keep his seat so long. There came a rustling in the scrub at the roadside. The revolver was in my band, my linger on the trigger. Had a Maori appealed 1 should have shot liim at once,

In a minute there broke from the scrub live troopers, their carbines in tucir bands, ft was an out-picket \vc had met.

\\ et and bedraggled, halless, with dishevelled hair and ngiil dress all stained with blood, 1 must have been almost unrecognisable. But Lieutenant Buckhurst knew ine.

" Heavens! .Miss Oxley," ho trial, what is tluV; Aud I'resion wounded.

JJadly, too." Lifting the unconscious uiu from the horse, they laid lain on the grass. " .Murphy,' called the lieutenant to one ol his men, "jurnp on this horse, ride to tamp, and bring out a stretcher party. \ou others get back to your stations."

The long strain was over at last, jn the sudden revulsiou ol feeling, I felt a-trebling, and begun to sob and laugh by turns.

" Hold up, Alias Uxley," cried young Jjiickhurst, " you've behaved heroically. Don't spoil all by weakening now. Here, drink this."

lie lillcd the metal cup on his lhuk with nun and water, ami insisted ou my linishing it. The strong spirit revived me and tbe catching in my throat ceased.

Pouring some ol the spirit betwee'i Tom's unconscious lips, Lieutenant Duckhurst said:

"Courage, Miss Oxley, here comes the stretcher-party." J. heard the sound of men advancing at the double. In two or three minutes they were beside us. Tom was placed carefully on the stretcher, and, lifting it, the men swung at once into the swift, even step of trained soldiers. They had brought back the horse, and I rode beside the bearers, At tlic camp 1 found the captain in command and Dr. O'Brien awaiting our arrival. | On examining Tom's wound the doctor said: " Tis a serious scratch that same, but there's no cause for alarm. I'll send him down to base hospital in half-an-hour. .Meantime he's in the hospital tent. Now, young lady, I order you to take some refreshment. I don't want two patients on my liands. into the mess-tent with you. The captain'll do the honours." In the same mess-teni, sitting on uu empty case, 1 made a meal of salt bc;f and " hard tack." As 1 ate, Captain Grey questioned me as to our experiences, when I told how 1 lired the fern, he sprang up. "What," lie cried, "you did that! .Miss Oxley, you dou't kuow what you've

done. Vour art not only saved your own and Preston's' lives, 'but the town ilsuit" also, and hundreds of oilier lives. I've reason lo know thai Te Kooli eo,ilemplaled a deseent oil the -eltlo.inenl. Il was at his merry; we were lot ;!y uuprepaved. 'lour lir'ng of Mie !'. ■;; i. end ils e„ii.sei|iieiit sloppage of nV. niareh, .nave u-. just I lie lieie squired ;o collet rciiii'orcc'nenis and put Ihe pi i iin defensive older. Von dc>cr\c I a,thanks of Ihe coiiiiliv and ol I'arbaineiil. and I wili tlnl vou Ihcm." Thanks ol Parliament! II wan kin I. Ilul what "arod I l'"r lliauk-Y I hid saved ins- lever and was content. In hail-an hour all was in readmeI'or continuing our journey. TaK-ii:/. leave ol' llie eaidaill. I :i»llll mount.-,! Tom's horse and'i'ode wilh'lhe strctc'iic;hearers.

Arrived in (Wiorne. 1 found tin frank and Laura ha-I got in safely hou: before. They bad n ported we were I'o lowing, and when we did not come, Ihe; were grave fears for our safely. .M father and mother were in great grie ion can imagine how rejoiced they v.i i to see me arrive sale.

Tom made a rapid recovery, bill, p-.■■■ fellow, the doctors found it impos-ibi, to save his arm, and it was amputate at Ihe shoulder. As soon almost as he could walk al after his illness, we were married -a

came up here to Te liapaha. which To bought from Mr. Ashley, and here w have been very happy for many year