"THE HOMECOMING."

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LII, Issue 81, 1 May 1909, Page 4

"THE HOMECOMING."

The two passengers from London dropped by the west-bound train at Wousford glanced at each other sympathetically. One of fliom, a seaman in the Navy, was carrying a heavy kit-bag on his shoulder. The civilian, a man of middle height and unpretentious appearance, had a small handbag. "It's beastly cold," said the latter, with a iriendly nod. "You're right," replied the sailor, '''especially when you've come from a place where the sun'll well-nipb cook a joint.'' The otter man smiled. It was evident from the color of his skin that Ire, too, had lived in a tropical country. "I wonder if I shall be able to get a conveyance," he said. "Depends on where you want to go, sir. if you happen to he going Eastoke way " "I am." "Then the carrier's cart'll take you. I know it'll be here to meet me, because I wrote."

"iTlat's good." They gave up their tickets to the halffrozen porter and climbed up into the cart. Although it was only seven o'clock, nearly every one in the little town seemed to have taken refuge by their fireside, and the clatter of the rickety old conveyance over the cobblestones seemed unnaturally loud. The carrier threw them a couple of sacks, which Aey wrapped around them. "Your home is here, I suppose," said the civilian, lighting an old briar which had evidently seen much service. "It was when I had one," replied the sailor, slowly, "but I've still got' many friends here. It's old Dcane I'm going to stop with. You'll know him if you're not a stranger in Eastoke." "I'm afraid I am. It's fiitten years jince I was there." "All, then old Dcane was head coachman at the Hall in Sir George Falconer's time. He's an old man now, past work. He's got a daughter." "Ah!" "True, it's mighty cold," said the sailor. He seemed flestrous of avoiding any further mention of Mr. Dcane's daughter, but, as he afterwards admitted, his companion seemed to have a knack of drawing him out, so that before the cart had covered the five miles between Wensford and its destination he found that he had considerably enlarged upon the subject'. It transpired that his name was Woodward—Harry Woodward—a very old name in these parts, almost as «ld as that oi Falconer itself. He had two more years of sea service to put in, and after that it seemed that if the Fates were kind to him little Rosa Deans would change her name to his. It had been arranged long ago, when they were boy and girl together. At length the cart pulled up at the Falconer Arms, and on the stranger's suggestion they entered. The bar parlor was well filled, and from the noise and gesticulation which prevailed it appeared that some topic of unusual interest was under discussion. There was a sudden hush as the travellers entered, followed by a chorus of greeting as Woodward found himself engulfed by a crowd of friends.

The stranger passed almost unnoticed to the little window which communicated with the bar, and after seeing to the refreshment of his companion and "the carrier, he ordered for himself a glass of hot whisky. Wlrilc sipping it he was t:i king a quiet interest in the babel of conversation behind him.

."And it's my Opinion," a voice was saying, "that you'll be coming home just at the right time, Henry Woodward."

There was a sudden silence, and the sailor went on sipping his glass contentedly.

"How's that? .What d'ye mean?" he asked.

The stranger glanced at the man who had spoken so mysteriously, ~From the way he carried his head, and from "the air of importance with which he spread himself in front of the blazing fire, it was evident that he was the village oracle. "I think it right," he said, "that he should hear the truth from us first. I What say, friends ?" | "Ay!" the others assented, gravely and unanimously, and Woodward suddenly put his glass down. "What's up?" "You don't know nothing about old Deane and his gal?'' 1 "Haven't heard since wc left the I Pacific," said the snilor in a voice full ■of apprehension. "What is it, lads! Speak up!" "Turned out, Harry lad! Sold, up by that hound of a Jasper Piatt!" "The squire's agent! It's not true!" "This very day! Wc was talking it over when you come in." "Why?" The man'e voice was husky and his mouth was twitching ominously. A youth in the corner jumped up excitedly. " 'Cause Rosa wouldn't marry the bla'guard." The others turned on him angrily. One of them pushed him back into his chair. Woodward's face was black with passion. "I'll break his neck!'' he said between his teeth. "Sfettoy, lad, steady!" The oracle

had taken up the talc'again. "But it's a fact 'wTiat line boy says, I fear. Th' old man lost his savings nigh upon a year ago in a building society, and though the gal worked like the little heroine she is, they got behind with their rent."

"She never told nic a word about it!" gasped the -sailor,

"She wouldn't. Harry. 'Twasn't likely. You know her!" fr U'ell ?"

"Things went from bad to worse, and at last, after leading 'cm to think it didn't matter much, Jasper Pratt up an' asks Rosa to marry him by way of settling the debt. She told my missus aboil!ft— all of a tremble she was because of the words hc\l said to her."

"But ho knew as =hc was promised to me."

The discreet youth in the corner was not yet entirety abashed.

"Majilie you don't know Jasper.Pratt," he cried. '

"Silence!" cried the man by the lire: "it's not to make you believe like a fool we're telling yon this. Harry."

With an eliort the sailor steadied himself.

"Besides," put in the landlord, who was by way of being a politician, "it isn't him's so much to blame, blackguard as he is. It's the system, my iricnds!" -. They all turned to him deferentially, and the stranger emptied his glass. For the first time he found himself in the direct line of observation.

"What system?" he asked. "It's the evil of having an absentee landlord."

".lasper iPratt isn't (lie mini—nor the type of man iifillier—to havt l unlimited power. As it is, ho might be squire himself." "Ayl" chorusscd his listeners ajfnin. Woodward created :i diversion lty throwing l)is "las* into the fireplace. It broke with a crash. "D—n polities!'' he cried; "where is

she, anyhow * Tnrued out of house and home, you said they were. Come, mates, you can trust nre not to do any violence. Where are they?" "I'm old Mrs. Ayling's cottage, scarce a hundred vards from where thev were." said the spokesman, "just for tonight. After to-night " Ire broke oil' and shrilled his shoulders.

"Then I'm oil'. You've got a room for me here, t expect. I'll lie in later on—"

''Rvfore. closing time. Oiood-niiiht, all."

Ife went out, by himself, slamming the door 'behind him. The stranger waited a few seconds, then placed some silver upon 'the counter.

"Drinks round!" lie said, briefly, "after f'm gone. And have one yourself, Mr. Landlord."

When he emerged from the ran door Woodward's hurrying form woe, a hundred yards away, 'but he made no effort to overtake him. A quarter of an hour afier he knocked deferentially at the door of a cosy little house that lay back from the road surrounded liy a wclllillcd garden. A maid opened the door. "Is Mr. Pratt in?" he asked. "What did you want to see him ahout?" "A little matter of business."

The girl looked at him suspiciously, then left him standing in the hall whiln she went to make enquiries. lis looked around liim at the substantial oak iuv niture and smiled grimly.

Presently a large, overhearing man came out smoking a cigar. "What's vour Business at this time of the night?" he demanded. Then, seeing that the visitor was a stranger and a gentleman, he took his cigar out of his mouth, coughed by way of apology, and asked him in. "t want lo cee vou. Mr. Pratt." said the stranger mildlv. "about this affair of poor Dennc and his daughter."

"All!" said the agent defiantly, "you're a lawyer, I suppose!"

The stranger did not deny it. | '"Mr. Dcane," 1 understand, was an old i servant of the family." I

. "Can't help Chat! They paid no rent. I've got my duty to do for my employer, who's in Australia."

"You're wrong. 1 am Sir John Falconer."

'the man turned dangerously red. "I received a letter from Australiaonly last night?" he gasped. "Quite right! 1 came with it, on the same boat. A sudden whim, Mr. Pratt."

"I remember you now, Sir John. But you've changed." "Xo doubt. 1 was a boy when I last saw you. Since then I've succeeded my father in his responsibilities, and you i were among them, Mr. Pratt. You seem 'very comfortable here." VVTili a bland son of interest he looked round the room.

"If you'd told me you were coming, Sir John," stammered the bailiff uneasily, "1 would have made preparations for your reception." "Thanks, i had quite an interesting reception as it was. They don't seem to think very highly of you at the village inn, Mr. Pratt." Pratt laughed ingratiatingly. "I daresay I'm unpopular," he said, "but it's in your interest, Sir John." "I rather think that it you did _vour work as I want it done you woulu be the most popular man on the estate." He broke off suddenly, and his voice hardened a little. "Have you an inventory of Dcane's furniture'(" "I—l believe so. The auctioneer sent me one."

He fumbled in his desk for a paper and handed it to Sir John. The baronet read it through, then looked at his agent meaningly. "Every article mentioned here," he said slowly, "must be inside that cottage again in an hour and a-half," Pratt gasped in sheer amazement. "It's—it's impossible, Sir John; they'r c sold. And, besides, if I may say so—" "In an hour and a-half, not a minute more, and as secretly as possible. I have an eye for the dramatic, Mr. Pratt. If the original articles cannot be replaced others must he substituted, cither from vour house or from mine. You clearly understand?" "flat, 'Sir John " "Fo r instance, there's a grandfather's clock included in this inventory. Now, I noticed a very nice one while I was waiting your convenience outside there. I'm going to the Hall now, and I will send you a ea"rt and some men. I should do the thing handsomely, Mr. Pratt, if I were yon; you seem to have underestimated the importance ol popularity. If there are any carpets, linen, or other things you cannot supply yourself, come to me for them. But for your own sake, Mr. Pratt—you understand J" "Yes, Sir John."

The man's face iwas deathly white as he opened the tloor to show his master out. He had lived in a pleasant dream for some years, and the suddenness of the awakening was painful. "Oh, by the bye," said Sir John, cheerfully, "I expect they'll want an extra hod, as a visitor has arrived Harry Woodward—little Rosa's fiance—yon may know him. I don't think I should meet him just now if I were you. Report to me when everything is readyan hour and a-half, mind. And come to me to-morrow morning at ten o'clock with your books and vouchers. lam going to audit all the accounts since my fatheFs death. It's a cold night, Mr. Pratt!" Two hours later, to his infinite surprise, Harry Woodward was requested by one of the 'Halt servants, "with Sir John Falconer's compliments." to step over to Mr. Deane's cottage. Arrived there, he lound himself staring open mouthed at his late travelling companion.

"Well. Harry," laughed Sir John, "I've put things as right as possible in the short time available. Ho dow you think old Dcane will like it?" ■Harry looked around him and drew a deep sigh, for Jasper Pratt had done himself credit. "And there'll he no more such misunderstandings, Harry, he sure and tell the old man that. I meant to go hack to Queensland, but I've changed any mind. I shall be here always now to look after my own servants anil also the old ones who served my father. You see, we all have our lessons to learn." It was said that Jasper Pratt's interview with his master and the audit of his accounts which followed aged hiin by ten years, but what passed between them never transpired. It was noticed, however, that the agent considerably reduced both his style of living and the arrogance of his demeanour. .Moreover, he was once heard to say that Sir John had been extremely good to him.—By Tristram Crutclilcy, in the Manchester Chronicle. I