THE STORYTELLER.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LII, Issue 293, 20 January 1910, Page 6

THE STORYTELLER.

A LEAJTIFCL AKAnCHIST.

"A to n-i> you. .-iv! "i v>"! i \va- m>: ;;£ homr to !i«;.r.n.U-r nay circumstances. again

!)r. .larr..\» <h iwmaii, rouswl from the comfort of smoking perfectly-colored pipe in tin' depths of an old leathern ;ivnii-li.ur. glared at his old servant. "it's tiie 11 rn:a:i what tailed late o:;e night i.efo:v. >ir." "! don't care if in? were an archangel. Tel! him I'm out.'' "1 in tru. v -on",- to disturb you. doctor: hut tlie ca.-'i- is verv urgent: nn si-ter lias been taken suddenly i':!. 1 pray vou to come." This appeal came from •.>. 1:1:1:1 who stood in the doorway of the doctor's sanc-tuia. .lames Shawman jumped un hastily from his chair, resentment "t. the intrusion flashing from his eyes, but at | the sight of nis visitor's face he nicreiv said: | "All right. I'll be with vou." | Five minutes later he was entering .. . dark, dreary-looking house in one of the ' squalid streets which make a network I round South Kensington Station. His j companion had a latchkey, which he ust'd as noiselessly as possible, and the J same caution as to silence marked Ins movements as. he quickly ascended three flights of stairs. .Tames Shawnian insensibly imitated this caution. Tt was his second visit. He was therefore prepared for the large, untidy. I sparsely-furnished attic-, but he was not I prepared for the aspect of his ptMenl. On a wide, low divan bed. which, was curtained oil" in one corner of the room., a young girl was moaning and tossing in high fever. Dr. Shawnian examined her quietly for a few moments, then lie said: "Has your sister had any mental strain lately?" "Xot more than usual." replied the man. "We have to leave London; that seemed to trouble her. You know we are Anarchists?" Dr. Slmwman shrugged his shoulders. "I onlv know." he said, "that this Inly is seriously ill, that she will need careful nursing for several days, and that j siie must, not on anv account be disturbed. I'll run hack to mv surgery for medicine, and shall return in less than lmlf an hour. You must not leave her even for a moment." All Dr. 'Shawman's desire for drowsily dream in? in his old armchair had v"iished. He really ran all the way tn his surgery. and was back in W Street ten minutes before the half-hour he hj" promised. He mounted the stairs the second time with the same cautious' silence as the first. To his surprise, when he entered the sick girl's room he saw that the man, notwithstanding his. warning, had left his sister's bedside. However, he did not bother about what lie thought a trilling temporary absence, and before lie had time even to see it the man were in the next room liis •patient took all his attention. She sat up in bed and began waving ■her hands about to a melancnoly monotone of words in a strange language. Gradually her voice became louder ana louder, and her gesticulations wilder, but the man did not come from the other room. Dr. .Shawnian called out, but received no answer. YTah great difficulty lis managed to force the girl to take some of the soothing medicine he had brought with him, and by degrees she became'quietened to the extent that he was able to leave her, to go and seek her brother.

The next room \va.- empty. Moreover, it did not take him many minutes to realise that the entire house was

empty. All this looked very mysterious, but no gleam of the truth came to Dr. James Shawman. He remembered the caution with which tue Anarchist had covered their entrance to the house, and he came to the conclusion that some confederate had been near, and that an important appointment had to be kept. Anathematising all secret societies, he went back to his patient with a certain degree of fortitude. Jle remembered reading somewhere that midnight generally closed Anarchist gatherings.

Bat midnight came, and one o'clock. r> 1:11 two o'clock, mid all the hours \vlt:elt go to meet tlu> dawn, and the man never returned, while the girl in the bed pot ivor-i' and worse. lit. was a dilemma (vhicU to a man of Dr. Shawman's ehar-ci-W-r ami temperament, remained without alleviation.' He would die rsuner lhan desert liis post. Al last, at iialf-])ast seven ill the morning. he heard sounds which told !:b>< iiiat the people who had the shop ihe ground floor had arrived, and a '< .i ,minutes afterwards a charwoman announced her presence by a knock. messenger of heaven-was ever reci i\ I'd by religions' devotee with more r;ii rare than was the woman of brushes and pails by .lames Shawman. 1 >nt she could throw no light on the mystery. •Nie only came for four or live hours ii. ibe morning. <md she had never once spoken to the gentleman. The young laily was always very sad and quiet, ami showed her what was to be done oy signs. :■ s she s'pokc no English. However, though the charwoman's information was scant, her presence was i a towel 1 of strength to the doctor, She was a. cleanly. capable, kindlv body, ami lie was able to leave her in charge ni jiis patient with all easy heart and a clear conscience. James Shawman was a Scotsman, the eldest son of a poor clergyman. lie was well developed in brain a nil muscle, and he had a nature sanguine enough to keep -i cheerful spirit in the hardest of all professions, that of a doctor with a poor practice in a poor district, lie disliked being humbugged, and in return was so little of a charlatan himself that his ri.se in the medical world must be very slow.

As he ate his' breakfast after a ba and an hour's sleep, he regarded his vigil of the ninht before with feeling*

mixed that he could not tell wiiethev humor, or indignation, or pity was strongest. His list instinctively dotighter when he thought of the ma;i who played so vile a trick on him, while his throat tightened with sympathy ahe recalled the lovely girl who was lighting for life and reason in such squalor and desolation.

"His beautiful brother has returned by now," was his reflection as he prepared to go out, ''and 1 shall insist that he provides a proper nurse for hi-' sister or "

His threat was never finished, for the contents of a letter whiih was .handed to him by an urchin who had entered the surgery almost stopped his breath bv its audacity. It ran:

"My Dear Doctor, I have had to clear out. I know 'Xalia' will be safe in your hands. Few stolid doctor chaps like you get a chance of sueli an interesting patient. This illness .has been a boon to me —perhaps to her. I'm without a cent, and she was a great burden. Au rcvoir.—Michael Kolski."

"The unspeakable scoundrel, the — the—the—" James Shawman became almost apoplectic-with rage. He swore, he stormed, he threatened, he vowed a thousand vows that he would never go near the house again. "Let the police look after the girl, let her be taken to hospital," he exclaimed so .loudly that his old servant ran'into the hall to see what was: the matter. lint James Shawman had too Celtic an imagination to keep his resolution. He went round to Wimple Street to make sure, so lie excused himself, that the girl was fit to be removed to hospital. It was the same Celtic imagination which prompted his visit that must be held responsible for his further actions. • sj The girl could not be removed without danger to her life—she was unconscious, penniless, and deserted; she was evidently a lady. For a few days, at least, James Shawman decided, then was nothing to be done but accept the tas'k so brutally put upon him. He had no money to spend on nurses, so he took turns with the charwoman and the woman in the shop downstairs at the stranger's bedside. He soon found that in -.some subtle, (indefinable way the rumor arose that he was her relative, and for some reason ( also Subtle and undefinable, he did not contradict the rumor. In time ho found himself talking quite glibly t.o his two aides de lit about "my cousin," and every day the thought of sending for the relieving officer to have her removed to hospital seemed to go farther away. And when the girl's convalescence began, the problem of her departure became more difficult than ever. James Shawman found himself burdeiied with a young and lovely dependent who did not speak a word of English: more extraordinary still, he found that he rather liked the obligation than otherwise. Still, ills means were such that he could not afford to pay for lodgings, food, and servant; already the strain was crippling his finances. An accident to the model charwoman, and a suggestion from his housekeeper, showed him a way out that a mail of less- impulsive nature would have hesitated to adopt.

"Why don't you bring the lady along here until she is able to go to her friends? I'll look after her,' said the old servant.. Convention, smiled at many/things in Wimple Street that would have made Harley Street raise its heavv eyebrows. It accepted Dr. Shawman's young protegee without, much comment or criticism, indeed, anv soreness felt was in. the doctor';; own bosom. Life had suddenly bloomed forth for him with radiance, but he was doubtful as to the justice of the part lit? had acted, in regard to the girl. Her attitude puzzled him. She took everything, for granted; she accepted him, his house, and his money without the slightest embarrassment, lie learned that she was a Pole, but there his knowledge of her ended. Slu never spoke about herself, even when she began to talk English with some iluency. Of one tiling only was' he sure: whatever her past had been, its memories brought her no pleasure. Once he ventured to say to iier: "Have you heard of Monsieur Kolski since he left?" Her face seemed to turn to stone. ! "Let us not talk of him until'.-io' comes." she said, and she remained plunged in gloomy thought for fla'-vs, afterwards. ' 1 Thus it Came about thai James Slnfttv'i!! mail acted a.y guardian and tutor to a young woman for six months without knowing any more about her life tiian lie did oil the night he was called in to see her in her attic. But all this did not really matter much to him so long as Nairn's presence in his house gave brightness to his da/s, ilie truth being that he had fallen'in love with her. T:ie awakening from bis fool's paradise was as' abrupt as was his entrance into it. and it came about in the same away. As on the morning after he had returned from his vigil at the sick girl's bedside, an urchin entered the surgery, handed him a. letter, and disappeared. There was no need to speculate as to the identity of tlft" writer of the unsigned message: "I shall call to-night, at half-past ten''; it could mean only o;:p visitor. Kols'ki. 'l.lie situation needed prompt and resolute handling. James Shawnian saw his way out in a flash—Xalia must never return to the surroundings she evideutl-di-diked so much. He went in search of his protegee, and found her in the little sitting-room. He looked far more of a -soldier than a lover, as lie stood before her. Tie certainly acted with the impetuosity of one. "Xalia," he said, "]i love you. !T want, yon to be mv wft'e. You must neVcr u-o back to the life led by that man." and he handed her the note.

She gave one sharp cry at sight of the writing. James suawnnia caught her in his anus and tried to south,' her w:;ii loving words. Sue broke away irom n:clasp, looked at aim witn ew.- in,; oi terrified surprise. "He did not tell you, the villain! she exclaimed, in English.

Tlhm she began to talk rapidly m Polish, and to gesticulate excitedly.

•Suddenly she rushed towards the !*- wildered doctor, caught his liand.-, covered them with kisses, and ran oat oi the room.

What was the cause of the girl's extreme agitation? What was she trying to explain. .James Shawman asked ninis'elf in vain, as he did not know a word of Polish. Xor was it possible to learn what she had meant. She locked her-

self into her room, and neither solicitation nor objuration could get ner t. open her door.

Never did 'hurs drag more slowh- for James Shawnian than those which 'made up the evening until half-past ten. His visitor was punctual. The hands of the clock had hardly reached the appointed hour when the door-bell rang. James Shawman opened the door himself, and silently led the way to the cons'ulting-room. Kolski was the first to break silence.

"I see vou have a grudge against me, doctor," he said. "I admit i did p!a .■ you a rather nasty trick. But. as you know, I am not my own master." "Then you should not bring a young girl into a life you cannot control," exclaimed James Shawman. "There is no excuse wliieh could cover your scoundrelly action."

"There is an excuse, my dear doctor, my keen knowledge of human character. know of what you have done for Xalia, and I knew you would do it. Your coarse of action was mapped out in your countenance—in your pvcrv-man-mus't-do-his-duty expression, Then tiiere is a sentimental vein in your composition as well " The smooth, sarcastic tones and the studied language got on James Shawman's nerves. "Quit such fooling," he cried. "Come to the point. What do you want?" "To relieve you of your burden,' Kolski- replied. "I am here to t.nke Xalia away with me. She has been expecting such a sudden summons as 1 this. By the bye, she thinks you are an Anarchist, and that the brotherhood has been responsible for 'her board and lodging while I have been awav. i should not like you to undeceive her.' So this was why the girl nad taken his protection and' home as a matter of course. James Shawman ground his

teeth at the thought, but tie took a lesson in measured tones from his visitor. He said quietly aad with slow distinctness :

"If Nalia leave this house to go with you, it will be over my dead bodv."

"What's this game? It rather amuses me." The voice of Kolski kept its' quality of soft sarcasm, but his eyes under their deep brows glittered threateningly. "Ii hope to make Nalia my wife. I—"

James Shawman was interrupted by a loud, hoarse laugh from Koiski, who said:

"Not so fast, my dear doctor. I think I have something to .say to that. I am sure the lady is not insensible to your charms, but she happens to be a wife already."

"You're a liar!" "I assure you I am not. I am the lady's husband." A thousand little incidents flashed into Shawman's mind, and brought sauden conviction as to the truth of Kolski's statement. He looked at the man before him, and noticed his diabolical, leer. I-Ie thought of his rascally desertion of the poor young creature who was dependent on him, and the Celt in his nature' broke out: reason seemed suddenly to become obscured, and all his consciousness became merged in a wild longing to grip tin; tfiroat of the man before him.

What he might have done in this moment Oi absolute passion he could never know. Before the impulse of action came, Ko!*ki made a sprii:^, lou fool! - he hissed: "no man can live that tells me he loves mv wife. There were a lew moments of tense and desperate struggle, during which the strength of Shawnian gradually gave way before the. science of his opponent. Just as he was feeling as if the J.'-! breath was being squeezed out of him he had a consciousness that Kolski yi'i,!s stealthily releasing one iuuul to st'rtke' with a knife. The knowledge gave him nerve for one supreme oiiort ite wtined a fresh grip of his enemy. Tiie two rocked fiercely in one another's arms; then both fell heavily to the ground. .lames Shawman felt the deadly urio «f the Anarchist relaxiHe released himself and staggered to a chair. At that moment. Xalia entered the room. She came to him quickly, ur.il *'veii in Tiis i> . i !( , t'iced that she kept, her eves away from the man on the Iloor.

,A S Shnwinna ri gained po.-M-ssiun of his senses. his professional sense nsf obscured !,y i,:,. |n .. q ii.Hurc. He moved over ~s ] ,] kucldown to examine Kolxki. After it very survey lie looked with horrify'ink: ; ouledye :il ;ili; i the man a - ihnd. The expression j tt i u>! eves W;K fleeted in )"■?•> a ~ -oe wh;-- ry, | : -|) . a d." •Jauies Siiawiiiun keen- h.-v«oitl n - o--:-liility of doubt. iluir Koi.-ki wa- dead, yet—such is mini's obstinae.' to reeosjsudden mid'orl line -he applied even- restorative known to to the dead man.. hi ii at last the full iiievit:>h'h! ■ il th" di-.aster wa- renli-ed liv him. there came to his mind the fad, thill the man he had killed was Xa 1 iahusband--t he woman he loved had lieen made by him -1. ANAKCUIST V Til J: J-:i •" participate. as it weiv. ; n jju> mosl apiwilinj; of tra ; ;edie„. tur.ie.! to her as she stood jiale and ilrvcvH l>v hi.-! >ide. on mnsj hale me." he >aid. "L shall at op.ee <m> to the .) : ; - r ..; and jfive myself up." Xalia had been piziii;f medita! ivelv al the body of her husband, i.nl at Shawlmui - ords she looked ;it hilli--sonie-tiling o| a solemn smile hanuiiw aboif her lijiji. ' "Hi' killed u'y father, an' ndj-iaed nie liy ton e." she | ; • Uiere was no nine davs' sensation in ,\I Street. \o information a-; to death of Kol.-ki ever re;:, lied tin police. In the f ( , u - hours which followed tlie death, James Shawman discovered that the frail yonnjr jjirl had not lived in Anarchist aiin'oiiiKtiiijjs in vain. To dispose of a dead body was a small matter in her circle. So before inorni:i,n dawned in the shabbv another had boon added to the long 'battalions of the city's undiscovered deaths'.

It was noticed ; u latfv veais that :in> celebrated surgeon. Sir James Shawnmn. though fond of talking of his early days, never alluded to a time he spent in a surgery at Kensington. Neither does any of 'his friends ever hear from him the story of the wooing of his beautifu 1 Polish wife. —By Frances Mahan. in M.'A.P« ■ * K'wi <• t , •