THE COLONEL'S ENEMY.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 3116, 16 February 1909, Page 2

THE COLONEL'S ENEMY.

BY WINTHROP B. HARLAND. Author of "Lady Elgin's Secret," "A Harvest of Shame," "The Elder Son," "Lord Ashton's Heir," Etc.

CHAPTER 111- —C ntinued. "Thsre is no serious fault in a life of abstinence and prayer," the soldier said; "and it would be as well if some of her neighbours followed her example in the matter of dress. She may be a believer in the doctrine of vicarious atonement, Mr Dacre, and her self-denial is, perhaps « self-imposed penance foi the sins of others, and her reminder will not be wasted. Nothing shall keep me from meeting the colonel at Liverpool; he will write to tell you when hs is coming, and you, of course, will let me know in time?" It whs the second time lie had made the same request, almost in the same words, as Leonard remembered when the major had gone. ioung Dacre would have accompanied him to the station, but the weatherproof and sturdy soldier, who looked upon him as a delicate lad, would not let him leave the warm atmosphere of the Canon Street house for a cold drive through the frosty air, and the bleak, almost unsheltered, platform of the railway station. There had been no improvement in the climate, since Frederick Lugurd came back to his native land. Fog and rain, snow and thaw, kept up a very pleasant kind of elemental warfare, and it seemed as if, when tired of the struggle with each other, the whole four combined to do their worst, at the expanse of poor humanity. The major smiled now and then, as under this state of things, he heard people wish sach other a "Merry Christmas." It was third week in December now, and the cheerful Briton was evidently in favour of exchanging seasonable compliments in advance. The major had promised to spend his Christmas with the Dacies, if he could get through his business in time. They had pressed him to stay but he felt that he. had alrtady neglected his duty too long. The la mil v lawyers, Messrs Kcssiver and Capihall, of Bristol, had written him a rather urgent letter, intimating that there were some things which would be better for his immediate attention ; and, though he was powerfully tempted to remain, he tightened the belt of his ulster, and faced the journey as he would have faced the enemy.

Perhaps he may have been more determined to go, because he was so, strongly tempted to remain. it was hard to tear himself away from his snug quarters; harder still to put the distance of over one hundred miles between himself and the sweet face of Col. St. Hilary's daughter. He took the train that left Paddington shortly before midday, for he wanted to roach Bristol before evening set in; so many years had elapsed since he last saw that picturesque old city on the Avon, that, to have gone later in the day, would have been like exploring an unknown country in the dark. He thought he had said goodbye to it forever, when, as a mere stripling, he went *here to soma lawyers for the cheque that was to pay for his outfit, and leave a few pounds in his pocket when he joined the regiment in India. The cheque was grudgingly given, apparently, if he could judge by the few curt lines that accompanied it. They were the first and the last his Uncle Percival had ever written to him, and they told him he must depend upon himself in future, and to take care be did not disgrace the name he bore. A half-yearly remittance of fifty pounds had reached him from the same source, but not a word even to acknowledge their relationship; ar.d now the stern old man had left him sole heir to all his property. . Itn.ade him rich; but Frederick Lugard did not except this magnificent bequest with unmixed pleasure; his manly serse of justice told him that so much could not have done for him without injury to others,, who had morally, if not legally, a right to share with him. Mr Percival Lugard bad been the one wealthy member of a numerous family; but the major saw little of his relations —memory gave him nothing but a yearning recollection of his mother, whom he had followed tD grave when he was a child; a lonely boyhood at school, a year or two with a private tutor, where it pained him, even now, to recall the stinging poverty he had to endure in the midst of fellow pupils, who could squander sovereigns while he was afraid to change a shilling. He had borne it bravely; lost no self-respect; accepted nothing except the friendship of oae comrade, St. Hilary's younger brother a gallant youth who laid down his lite n his country's service. That friendship with Arthur bt„ Hilary was the first bright spot in Lugsrd's "ife. It introduced him to the colonel, and gave him the homelike surroundings, under which the finer qualities, long suppressed, ot his noturally frank and genial disposition, expanded like a neglected flower brought into this life and /nourished with sunshine and oew. Every grateful recollection of his earlv manhood was associated with the kindly soldier who had taken him by the hand at the outset of his ■career, and he tried to pursuade himself that thn was why he took such a tender interest in Dora, and yet he was haunted by a mental picture of isavenskerne as it might have been, .11 stately and a pleasant home for Dora, the colonel and himself. He was alone for the greater part of the journey; he had not provided himself with books or papers, and he had nothing but a cigar for company, vet the time passed so rapidly in his reverie that he was surprised when lhf tra n drew into terminus at Brist„i jrfjfltn " He had no reed to inquire his way tto Messrs Ktssiver and Coptl.aU a.

Their busy office in one of the large thoroughfares not far from College Green, was indelibly fixed on his memory. He could with a smile, the almost patronising air with which the partners, middleaged men then, had given him his uncle's letter, and offered him a glass of sherry, with some friendly counsel of their own. The office had not changed; the same staff of clerks might have been at work for all the difierence he could see; but there was a striking difference 111 the.manner of his reception. The very mention of his name was an "open sesame' that took him right into the interior, where he saw the identical partners, only a little more middle-aged, and rather larger in the shirt-front and waistband, than when he had his last interview with them.

His appearance was evidently an agreeable surprise; he shook hands heartily, ignoring their previous patronising formality, for there was no room in his nature for such a rank weed as a petty grudge. They did not easily recognise him at first, They still retained their impression of the smooth-faced stripling whose shy and proud reserve they had mistaken for sullen discontent, and here l.e was, a broad shouldered, bearded man, alert and muscular, with brilliant eyes that met them steadfastly. The major gained a great deal of information that was new to him during the conversation whicn ensued, and this was sustained almost entirely by Mr Kessiver and himself. Mr Copthall contented himself with listening and looking wiser than any \ mortal being could possibly be, as Lugard remembered reading of some cne whose wisdom may not have been more profound. "I car.not understand why uncle made me his heir," the major said. "He took little interest in my welfare, ignored my existence, in fact, except that he sent me that haltyearly cheque. I should have been ii clined to send it back, but it rnighc have looked as if 1 wanted more." "Mr Dugard thought it would be a useful addition to jour pay," Mr Kessiver observed. ''We invested the money for that purpose, three 1 thousand and some odd hundreds in the three per cents. You have had the interest for over twenty years, major, and the capital still remains at your disposal. Had you had that capital when you entered the service yo.i might have made ducks and I crekes of it."

"Not very likely," the soldier said with a laugh. "I knew the value of money too well for that." "Mr Lugard's experience had taught him that people do not always profit by a lesson, major, and the Lug at da have been an improvident race, careless in their expenditure, unwis; in their marriages. You owe your [resent position as your uncle's heir to the fact that you have remained a bachelor." [to be continued.]