THE STORYTELLER.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LIII, Issue 54, 13 June 1910, Page 6

THE STORYTELLER.

A LOVE ROMANCE OF PARADISE SQUARE - Genius is too cheap a word in these days. But it applied to Jim MeTcer. He was handyman in Kennet's ironworks, the largest in Eadbury. There was nothing remarkaible about him hut his dark, lustrous eyes, his tall, powerful figure, and a mainly beauty sucli as delights the heart of woman. Jim had an inventive faculty. While others slept, he thought. His room was littered with clever mechanism—by his own team conceived, by his own hands ■formed, After work he hurried home to supper. After supper he hurried into foils little workroom. It was there the Hon. Violet Darefleet first saw him.

The Darelleets were the patricians of Eadbury. They had toeen the overlords when the great town was a tiny village. As ia family they were honored and odd. Their oddness consisted chiefly of plain living, high ■thinking and—a h> for the conventions.

'At iti'Mity-one Violet Darefleet embodied all the characteristics of her race, including the beauty for which the women were famous. No figure was more familiar in the poorer parts of Bad'bury. One autumn evening she entered Paradise Square and tapped at the door of Bell ev ue Cottage. She was on an erTand of mercy to its occupant, Biddy Brian.

There was no answer to her knock. The next-door neighbor, Mrs. Mercer, peered out. '■Ah, Miss Violet, Biddy went out an hour ago to see her ailing daughter. It will be date Wore she's back, and there's a heavy shower coming. Will you grace niy kitchen hy sheltering awhile?" •'Thank you, Mrs. Mercer, I will. But, dear me, what a din? Have you tradesmen in?"

"Xo, miss. It's Jim amusing himself."

"Might I peep into the shrine? I am intensely fond of mechanical things." Jim Mercer looked up in surprise and confusion. His face was sweating, his hands were .begrimed. But Violet Darelieet saw only the ibrawny muscles, the broad chest, and the intelligent features. "I hope you will be too polite to say 1 am unwelcome," she laughed. "I shall be too truthful to say it. But •this is scarcely a boudoir. I would imperil your finery if I offered you even the minimum courtesy of a seat.'' Miss Darefleet solved that difficulty toy' perching herself on the end of the ibench and looking round with curious eyes. Under her eager questions Jim Mercer forgot social differences. He was conscious only of a sympathetic listener as he explained his models, recounted his failures and successes, his hopes and fears.

"But I am boring you, Miss Darefleet." "You aren't. Go on," she said imperiously. "Yours is a life my fashionable friends know nothing of. You are doomed to toil "

"Doomed is the wrong word. There is pleasure in toil. But it is gall and wormwood to think that you are but another man's puppet, the tool of a snarling foreman who is, in tun*, the tool of an unscrupulous master; to know that because you were born poor you will die poor; to toil that your master may be rich, and that the boobies who were born to him as sons may play the fool in the gambling dens of London. Confound them al°! The only master I acknowledge is he whose brain is clearer,, whose hand is defter, than mine." He stopped abruptly, ashamed that her . sympathy had excited .him into such vehement self-revelation. She was silent awhile. She realised, that she had got a glimpse into a strong ; man's soul. "I am sorry you are unhappy, but do . not imagine that you are alone in that, j With all niv advantages I am unhappy , enough. The life I live is hollow. Yet j few of us are brave enough to break ■ with it. We are slaves in the opinions j of greater .slaves than ourselves. How I .wearv of all the .artificiality! How often I'would forsake it and live simply as I could. Your lot is hard; but a thousand times rather stick to your lathe and anvil than exchange them for a life where men are bloodless and women heartless. They only pretend to live. They throttle their deepest instincts, cheat themselves out of life's purest joys. Heaven made them men and women. Fashion has made them fools. Your workman's wife has love and freedom. Your society queen has neither. Stick to your lot, James Mercer. Many a woman you probably envy would gladly share it. Good night." She vanished, more excited, more ashamed of her impetuous speech than Jim had been of his. They often met on the streets of hadbury after that, but the Hon. Violet Darefleet's ibow was excessively formal. Jim Mercer's .acknowledgment was deeply respectful. . . Sometimes, however, out on tne quiet | roads they met alone, and the Hon. Violet would pause a moment to ask for o d Mrs Mercer. That moment usually duplicated itself almost indefinitely, but neither seemed to notice the fact. Some months later it was announced that the Hon. Violet was going away I from Eadbury for a long period The mean." streets of Radbury mourned at the news. , .... . But it was the days of '-the grand tour," and Lord Darefleet believed m the educating influence of travel on women a* well as on men. Miss Violet would be gone a year or more. Amid the dusk of the evening preceding her departure she paid a surprise farewell visit to her favorite beneficiary, Biddy Brian, of Bellevue Cottage. She extended the courtesy to the nextdoor neighbor, land Jim Mercer emerged from his workroom to join in the good wishes and good-bves. Violet Darefleet rippled with merry .badinage and smiles all the wav to the gate and beyond the ranee of Paradise Square. But Biddy Brian was old and, 'twas said, had the gift of second sight. "'The child isn't herself," she said, decided] v. "Her laugh rings hollow, and her heart isn't in this travelling bus?-

ness. If she goes, she leaves ponnnning secret behind her, though -what it can be only she and Heaven know?,."

but it gave reality to years of toiling bury. It was a modest enough affair, but ot gave reality to years of toiling and dreaming. His mates had lived a day at a time: Jim Mercer had lived for the future. They had snatchel passing pleasures. paying as thev went; he had denied himself and added to the little store, which was now all at stake in this venture 10 lose ov win.

His mates applauded or envied according to their dispositions. But all had faith in Jim Mercer. Was there not more energy in his little finger than in anv master.s body?

The ironmasters of Eadbury, never! having heard of James Mercer, looked down°from their financial eminence and joked over the presumption of the groundling. Their humor was misdirected. Jim Mercer flourished. His critics grudgingly conceded that the fellow had commercial and mechanical aptitude. "But," said old John Fenton., the leadtog ironmaster, to his "there's lift Fu&hi for him in Radibury. I'll choke him off with a foremanship in my place. And' you will allow me something for taking a dangerous rival out of your way." John Fenton w. astonished to fimi that his negoti:'■' ! o:is collapsed as soon as they were op' ued. Jim Mercer's answer was polite, but pointed, "I am playing for a larger stake than any foremanship yea can offer me. And, understand, I am not thinking merely of money. Certainly I shall gather as 1 much as I possibly can. My chief ambition, however, is to raise my neck above the heels of those who have too long trod on it. lam neither to be bullied nor [bribed, and if I am worth my place as a leader I shall fall back into the ranks. But I shall keep my colors flying. John Fenton regarded the speaker silently. Then he returned to .his eonfederates and reported, that the new rival was a plebian, clever—and crazy. The ironmasters of Eadbury were not philanthropists. They had no intention of sharing profits with a fresh claimant. Usually they 'were hitter rivals. Now they unanimously combined against a common foe.

Crushing out Mercer would be a simple matter. The victim might muse on tile morality of it and reflect that if only they would fight with clean weapons he could hold his own. But it was the old story of Providence on the side of big I .battalions. Within a short time. Jim Mercer recognised that there was a strong combination working to crush him out by any conceivable method, however stable its'hue. ; He was overreached and undersold. He fought cleanly and gamely.. But the sickening sensation at his heart increased every day. He was fighting a losing, battle.

The Hon. Violet Darefleet reached London after a year's absence. .She would have .gone straight on to Radtary, but her father was eager to meet old friends again, and they delayed * fortnight in town. It was one afternoon that Violet met young Harold Fenton in the Row. "And is there anything interesting going on at Radbury just now " was her first eager question. "I can't say. There are so few people one can talk to down thesis. But father was telling me « joke about one of the common herd, named Mercer, who has been giving himself airs -and setting up business on his own aceoant. A iiit clever, I suppose, but doesn't know nis own ,place, insolent to his betters, and all that .sort of thing. Well, he started and introduced all sorts of clever things. Oh, the beggar must have a fiead! The other masters got frightened and decided to teach him and a'H his kind a lesson. They combined against him. The fool wouldn't own himself beaten,, so they, had to make a thorough example of him. I He's broke at last. . His stock is to be sold ipiecemeail 'to-morrow. lather!*, chuckling; so are the others. uon't you think so, Miss Darefleet? Fancy having to stand that sort of thing from a common working man, a fellow who never dresses for dinner; possibly eats with his knife, for all we know. Halloa! Are you quite well, Miss Darefleet?" "Oh, yes, thank you; but—'.pardon me g»ing. I should like to join my father."

"At three o'clock on the afternoon of the Gth instant, within the yard;, at 9j Gernnt road, the stock of Mr. James Mercer will be sold by .public auctions" ' The placards were all over Radbury. Bv the disposal of bis stock Jim Mercer would retain his solvency. But nothing more. The men who had crushed' Kim. gathered round to choose bargain lots from the ruin they had brought about. Jim was at home in his little workshop, quiet and restrained, but conscious of the storm that rages in a brave maa-s breast when lie is beaten. At three o'clock the yard was crowded. The "lib auctioneer mountel the rostrum. Bidding was brisk. The hammer was aJjcmt to fall on the first bargain to old John Fenton at £ll. Suddenly a clear, cultured voice sounded. "Twelve pounds!" A hush fell on thee rowd. The speaker was ta young ilady, heavily, veiled, standing apart and motionless. "Any advance on twelve pounds V said i'he axictioneer, mechanically. John Fenton was too astonished to speak. The lot fell to the lady. ' Lot 'No. 2 went up. Bidding was slower. Each ibidded glanced timorousjly at the fair unknown. The last lot ] was made. Agiain the sweet voice soundl ed. One pound over the last bid'. It ' went down at that.

1 Lot succeeded lot, but the routine never varied.

Some hours later there was a low tap at Mrs. Mercer's door. Jim was alone. He flung it wide open and gazed into the smiling eyes of Violet Darcfleet. ■His emotions .underwent an instantaneus transformation, a ray of dazzling sunshine seemed to pierce the gloom o\ his mind. •'I never had to wait so long--before at Mrs. Mercer's door without being Invit"ed in," laughed the visitor. "Forgive me not offering- y&u .admission and welcome. But my .-surprise is as

intense as my pleasure. And both have stunned me. ' Doubtless you came to see Bid ly Brian. Hut. she died a month ago. My mother U out. Probably you hoped to see her "

"I wished to see you first. Before I went away you honored me with your confidence." ' I do not ask you to renew it unless you feel you can, but since my return I have heard bad news of you. Is it true?"

There was solicitude in her voice. The onslaughts of his foes had only hardened him. This beautiful woman's sym r r.:ny opened tin- floodgates of his heart, his pent-up feeling-: surged into eloquence, tinged with concentrated bitterness.

He told her the talc—the roseate dream, his treasured savings, the bold venture, his certainty of success, his struggle against odds—then defeat. "Now all has gone. lam ibeggared even of my hopes and of my dreams. And they were fairer than you know," he continued, wildly. "But you shall know them, though it beggar me also of your fviem.l'ih.iii. 'lou will think my disappointments have drive;, me mad. But, if it be madness, I have been mad a long time. I dreamt of success, boundless success, and all with one object—that I might lay it at the feet of the Hon. Violet Darefleet; for I love you—l have loved you long ere you knew of my existence. I dreamt that, if I could achieve wealth and (position, you would perchance rfspe?t me, not for niy success, ibut for my struggle to will it. .Now you are irrevocably lost to me. You >V'iU recall me only as « crazy workman Who insulted you with professions of his love. But, whatever your destiny, take with you, Violet Darefleet, into the future my farewell words—l love you, I shall always love you."

He rested his arms on the table, his head on his arms. He had tired his last shot, given up his deepest secret. He was indifferent as to what might follow. Nothing could matter now. There was a great silence. A dainty hand touched him, an arm entwined his neck, a cheek wet with tears was laid again his own, Violet Darefleet was nestling close. "Jim—my Jim! tell me again that you love me—will always love me." The moments that followed seemed snatched from a celestial world.- To the lovers they remained Off hallowed memory, m blurred delirium of joy.- W&en Jim Mercer came to 'himself he trembled at his own temerity.

"But what will the world say?'' lie ex--BlaimwL "The Darefleets have never' troubled about what the world said of them in matters* of love and courage. And this is a blend of both, as I think; you- will agrae when I tell you how I hftcve spent the Mat twenty-four hours. Altw liarold Fenton told me of your misfortune I asked' my father to' save you. He laughed at the notion and sent me off to bed hopwtess, ipenniless. Overnight I remembered my jewels. These were absolutely my own, my mother's gift. This morning, before si, certain fashionable pawn-shop >\w.s five minutes open,- I'llfed' 'put all I possessed in pledge, t caught the first train for Radbury and was jusi in time for the sale. I outbid the boldest of them, saved your stock, and left everything ready for re-starting to-mor-row. There they are as a gift to you, along with my pawn-tickets. Xow," she concluded, smilingly, "what will you do when you make your fortune ?" "I'll' make you' my wife." Violet even bh*islied.

"Oh, I didn't mean that, f meant you to say that you wwald redeem my jewels; I should like to have them back."

"So you shall, tat iit may be long, Your jewels must wait on Fortune." "But need our liwppfuess wait on Fortune?"

He regarded in incredulously. "You mean !" "Twentv-three .uouads would furnish Bellevue Cottage."' "You wouldn't dare: to!" he gasped. "Just you dare me to," she answered>smilingly.

Radbury was greatly excited over"t-Tife saving of Jim Mercer's stock'.' But it was Just recovering from that surprise when it was precipitated into another. Twenty-three pounds was a fabulous sum in Paradise Square. ■ Maids and matrons enviously watched tile sumptuous furnishing''of Biddy Brian's old cottage and wondered for whom it might be.

One morning they awoke to find Belle-1 vne Cottage tenanted liv Jim Mercer and the Hon. Violet Dare fleet—Mrs. Mercer, if you please. Lord Darefleet paid his only visit to Bellevue Cottage that, first evening. He had a volcanic wav with: him. But, with .her arm within 'her husband's, Violet Mercer bravely withstood him. "I didn't come to talk heroics, Mercer," he said. 'The jMefleets have always bad considerable- pluck and initative. Violet has her fn'fl share. .She ■has chosen. It is your business to prove that she has chosen well. She was my daughter. She is your wife. You can keep her. I wish you both well. j:ut if ever you are ill I'll come and see you. But if you are looking forward to me as a supplementary source of income, there's a, surprise in store for you. Goodnight." He was gone, and' within the next minute Jim Mercer heard the longest, merriest laugh he ever heard. It came from his wife. So Jim Mercer got a second chance. Inspired by the cotton-gowned angel in I Bellevue Cottage, Tie braced himself anew. Jim and Violet Mercer wrestled with Fate unaided and alone. And by Heaven's grace they prevailed. It is years since these things happened. To-day they are inscribed in letters of gold in the annals of Radbury. For Jim Mercer is now the leading townsman. His success was swift and unstinted. His works are the most important in the countryside. But he still heads his private letters "Bellevue Cottage. Paradiso Square.' ITis knighthood came in the year of his mayoralty, and on the evening of his public, honor Sir James Mercer was in secret converse with his wife. He wished to remove Lady Mercer to a home more befitting her.

She twisted her arms round his neck and whispered through tears:— "Paradise Square for me, Jim—Paradise Square for me! I forsook fashion and fine houses long ago, and I have never regretted it. Paradise Square is a working man's district, and it was here I became a working man's wife. ■Here I go through the day's work and wearied for the evening and you to return.. My neighbors are humble and po.oi'. but I have proved their kind heart* ami have learned to love them. I mi:rlit" have friend- liner clad, but not of liner material. No. Jim; let us «-ay in J Paradise Square. .Mak" it brighter and fairer by all means. Enlarge Bellevue Cottage if you will, but 1 elect to remain near the fireside which my own uands haw so often polished, and the lloor I have so often scrubbed, near the spot where the cradle stood and the eliildren ■played, and where you and T. Jim, have so often knelt to thank God for the -great, | happiness that filled our little home. I i could leave it all and forget, Jim. Even for the fairest mansion on earth, Jim, 1 couldn't leave it all and forget." "Xo more could I, -darling," he whispered, as he kissed her and clasped her I closer to his breast. '