AN OLD TIME ELOPEMENT

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LI, Issue 308, 24 December 1908, Page 4

AN OLD TIME ELOPEMENT

Something must have happened before, Or else another something could not have taken place. A post-chaise with four horses might be standing in a side lane out of the Datli road on a snowy night fortuitously. A horse might have cast a shoe; a wheel might have come oil'; or the postboys, it being Christmas time, might have been too tipsy to ride, and stood awaiting with their heads on their saddles to steady their swimming brains; but no oue can defy all the law of probability to make out that two ;post-ch'aises, with lour horses, could be -standing, by sheer accident, at the same time in the same lane. Cast shoes, broken-down horses, tipsy postboys, and such suggestions will not hold water; but there they were, and it was very cold and very still by the high wall, while fifty yards away, beyond the'angle and in the main real, if auvone had been passing, he or she might have made oat two tall figures in "two long cloaks. But nobody did pass, not even the horse patrol, it bein" too cold for highwaymen, and the two figures in cloaks had it all to themselves. At last, after a period of waiting, one of them said: '■Won't come." ■■Think not';" ••Sure of it. The old Judys have smelt a rat and locked their doors." "Confound it! I think they would have come, though.' "Bless 'em! Yes! Dead gone. I

I l'iou! A faint whistle came from out of the darkness overhead. '■Yes! Here! Kight, gardener," was whispered from below. "\Yherc arc the bowpots?" "All ready, captain. Look out!" There was rustling and a scraping a< of wood against brickwork, and some crisp hits of snow fell rattling from the coping, and propped by the cloaked ones against the wall. "Xow, theii. one of yer," said the rough voice in a whisper. "You come up and set yourself striddle a-top ot the wall, .Mind: it's 'nation slipp'ry." One of the figures threw his cloak lu his companion, climbed the ladder, -and turned the coping of the wall into a saddle, si) that he had a short ladder on his left in the snowy garden, smother on .his right, standing on the path. "Now then, Missic," whispered the gardener. "My angel, yes. l'ray don't hesitate. 1 «m* ready to' take your hand.'' "But is Captain Darley there?" "I am Captain Darley, and L'uptaiaj Vivian is down below." "But—but 1 daren't. Oh, if anyone should be coming!" "No one will come, my angel. Quick! There, that's it; 1 have you safely. That's the way. Got her tight, Potatoes ?"

"Ay, 1 got her fast, sir." '•Now then, turn and go down backwards—l'll guide your foot—Good.Gcntlv.—That's the way.-Ah, steady my child, not yet; wait till your sister's safely down." "But I dare not stay here by myself. I'm sure I heard the Miss Hibbcrts cumin"," was whispered from the garden. "No, no; they're all asleep. Got her, old boy?" "Yes. quite safe." "Now, then, my pretty one—Why, you're cleverer 'than your sister.— That's the wav; stand firm, and turn round—l've got you safe—Feel for the ladder with your pretty little foot.Capital!— Now down you go." •'Here, quick! Coach coming with lights." was whispered, and the hearer leaped down into the darkness, threw on his cloak, caught one of the ladies round the waist, nud amidst a faint sobbing hurried her round into the la.ie to the foremost post-chaise, gave the men orders lo jump into the saddle, helped the lady into her seat, jumped ill afterwards, aiid banged the door. J Th(! horses sprang off, and passed' one of the London mails going west.J while a minute or 50 later tho second

, couple were on their way. ' | I The first chaise kept 031 Londouwards / till the postboys could strike off into the north road, while the second made for Bath, so that the sisters hour by hour became farther apart—hours full of trembling excitement and fear. Tears ; ilowed, too, rapidly, but in each case the tenderest endearments passed, as the young officers strove to soothe and ■ chase away their partners' fears. And so the night passed on .amidst the rattling of the chaises, the ringing of the hools on the hard roads, and an occasional stoppage to change horses. 11 was one scene of wild excitement to Florry Minyon; but she loved and was beloved, and in a few hours Gretna I would be won, and she the wife of haadi.some dashing Captain Darley, who loved her, as he told her at Lady Eldcrleigh's, more than life. Daylight on a bitter Christmas Eve r was at last beginning to 'appear when ' tlie occupants 01 the lirst chaise stopped again, and the girl was helped out, to be led into the inn to partake of a little refreshment. The room was dark, but a sleepy woman was 011 the way with caudles, which she she set down, received orders, and went out, the young officer turning directly to cross to the easy chair to which he had handed his companion. The lights were full upon his face as he turned, and the lady sprang uu, uttering a faint cry. "Uy Oeorge!" tried tile officer, stopping short. "You, Florry?" j "Oh, Captain Vivian! Captain. Vivian! What have you done';" "Dune* i—woli, I—oh, hang it all, my dear child, this is a pretty dooce of a mess!" "Oh, what shall 1 do? What shall 1 do?'' cried Florry passionately, and she gazed furiously at her companion. "Do?" he said. "Well, I can't quite say yet. You see. it was so dooced dark, ■and that alarm of the coach, coining put us all out, so that in the hurry, -you see, I got hold of the wrong one." * "Oh, Captain ' Vivian, how could you?" "Wrll, that's what I'm telling you. my dear, it's dooced awkward, and it was so dark, and you; avis both about the same size, and so muffled in your cloaks and howls, and you see you were so nice and good and loving all the way —when you wieren't trying ami I was trying to comfort yew—so loving, you know, that 1 didn't know the difference." "Oh," cried Worry, stamping her foot, '•for shame, —for shmuc!" "Yes, of course," stiid her companion; ''but 1. dont know what to say. Can you suggest anything?" ' "But, you must take me to him at Capti.,in Darley at once." "iSut you see he has got the other ladjy—my Xorah—you know." *oli, horrid —horrid!" "Ves, isn't it J It's awful; oh, hang it all!" ■ "But you must take mf to him nt once." "And that mean* going back to London, and then on to- Jlath; and we may 'be stoppeid.'"I can't help it," icried Horry fiercely. "Take me back 'to dear Edward at once." "And suppose he won't give up my Xorah ?". "But he will, he will; Ue loves me so —only me.'' "I don't kuowJ(' said the Captain, drily; "suppose he litis been loving her all the time, just as—as— —" "Oh, shame, sir—shame!" "Yes, it's a shame, but you know we're ill a lix; aud I'll be hanged if I'm going to give you up, if he sticks to my Xorah." "But he wouldn't—he wouldn't. .1 tell you he loves me only. You horrid man; you can't love poor X'iojah (x bit." "Oh, yes, I do; but you see things have tinned out so queer, it's rather iceing to iind her gone off with one's friend." '••Don't talk to 1110 like that about my poor sister, sir!" "But 1 must, you see. I don't like it at all, now one comes to think about it a little more. Ah, aud now one does come to think about it, old Ted's a hot-tempered sort of a fellow, and he'll lie quite'as savage about you going off with another man." "Captain Vivian!" "Oh, it's of no use for you to show 1 your pretty little teeth, my dear; we must look matters straight in the face." "You will take me back at once, sir!" "Well, 1 don't know. You see •wHli ■ such a temper as Darley has, he'll challenge me—and shoot me." Florry shrieked faintly. [ "Oh, 'he will, as sure 'as a gun—pistol, , I mean—unless—yes, that's it. I'll have . first go. Ue has run oil' with my little Xory, and I'll challenge and shoot him." Fl'orry shrieked again, and there was a pause. Dooced awkward, my dear, isn't it'/" "It's—maddening," sobbed Florry. "Dooced'hard, too—having to shoot vonr best friend—dead." I ' "Oh. Captain Vivian, don't—pray, pray don't shoot him," sobbed Florry. " 'Bliged to, you see, or he'd shoot me. \ Confound the darkness! All his doing, ' picking out such a night." "Xo, no; it was my doing, for fear . we should be seen." "Well, you made a horrible mess of I it, my dear—Hum! here's the breuk- , fast,"' , For steps were heard, and the woman ' brought in coffee and bread'and butter. \ "Eggs are poaching, .sir," she said, aud withdrew. "Better come and sit down, my dear, and pour out some coffee." ', "I couldn't touch a drop," sobbed I Florrv. t "Do. my dear, it will make you think , more clearly. There, there; wipe your '. precious little eves. We've got to contrive a way out of the mess. You see i 1 don't want to shoot Darley." I "Xo, it would be dreadful." j "And I'm hanged if I would like him . to shoot me. "Ob. no!" cried Florry, so wildly that \ she seemed about to verge into a passionate lit of hysterics. "Don't, don't, don't," whispered the Captain soothingly. "it goes through me to see you suffering like that.— There, there, then, let me help you to . the table—That's the way; we shall l,e able to think more clearly soon. These 1 horrid troubles do settle themselves somehow.—That's better, poor little I creature, then. It's horrible for you to wake up out of such a happy dream to find it's only such a poor contemptible sort of (i feilow as 1 am." "Don't, don't say that, Captain Vivian. ! You have behaved most kindly to me. ' Xo, oh-oh-ob!-what shall 1 do':" What she did do was to sink half , fainting in tin; captain's arms; and J then—he could not help it—he drew , her closely to bis breast and kissed her '. quivciing'red lips, till amidst sobs and tears he kissed her again and again, and , Flurry's arms were Hung passionately , about his neck, as she sobbed out—"Don't, don't forsake me now, and J will love you with all my heart." "There,"' he cried excitedly, "what did 1 say 1 I knew the coffee would clear our heads—Humph! J haven't had . any, though. That's the way out i.[ trouble. 1 was awfully fond of Xorry. but as he's gone off with my best friend 1 lind it better with (he prettiest, sweetest little angel that ever steppcd| Look here, my precious one, it won't make any difference. We'll go on to .Scotland, and get married—eh V "Yes, please," said the lady, with a little sob. "Thats settled then. 1 say, Florry, I'm beginning to wonder why 1 didn't propose to you iuilead of Xorah." "Are you';" cried the lady faintly. "Yes, that 1 am. Come, give me yoir little hands, as it is to be' They stole, dimples and all, into his. "That's better. And you'll never think of old Darley again?" "Ob. never," t .ried the little lady pas'sionately; "for i feel as sure as sure that it was that wicket body Surah's doing." "Yes, yes, all right," said the cantain. "That's all settled, then. 1 knew .that llic colfcc—Bah! we havn't had any yet!" it was quite true; and when the early breakfast was over they started once more 011 their journey, one which was to be continued through life. As to the other pair, history repeats itself, and seeing that it was'over one hundred years ago. when people were so different from those, of the present, perhaps it was wise to make the best of a mistake in Hie dark.