HER SILENCE JUSTIFIED.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 3195, 21 May 1909, Page 2

HER SILENCE JUSTIFIED.

BY HENRIETTA B. EUTHVEN. Author of "His Second Love," " Corydon's Infatuation," " Daring Dora,'' " An Unlucky Legacy,"

CHAPTER Xll.—Continued. He soon found that Laurence was following him; and it was owing to his perverseness that, after some miles of hard walking, they they were obliged to come to the conclusion that they had lost their way. At the only roadside inn they had seen they had been civilly offered the use of a small vehicle drawn by a shabby little forest pony; but Laurence scornfully declined to drive or be driven in such a wretched equinpage. They had, therefore, continued their journey on foot; trd as he had more than once—persisted in turning to the right when Wilfred was morally certain that they had been directed to take the left-hand track, they found themselves at last on the bank of a little river.

Since passing some chafcoal-burn-res' huts near Mark-Ash they had not encountered a human being, or seen a dwelling except thn solitary inn. The distant ringing of a woodman's axe in a thick forest of firs, the twitter of the birds, or the tinkling of a cowbell alone broke the silence, which to Wilfred, wearied of the noise of London, was exquisite, but to his companion depressing. "Which way next," said the latter, with a yawn, as they paused where four paths met. "I'll wager you what you like that we are wandering in a circle, and shall come back by and by to that smoky little inn, where we shall have to appease our hunger on rusty bacon and stale eggs." "I could put up with bread and cheese, or even bread without the cheese, providing it were seconded by a draft of milk," said the curate, throwing himself down on some moss, [a proceeding against which Laurence instantly uttered a protest.

"It will never do to dwadle here. We cannot sosnd the night in this eerie place." "Hark at monsieur the traveller!" Jaughed Mr Stuart. "Would it be the first time you had couched on the forest glade?" . "Not by some scores; but circumstances alter cases, and in my own land I prefer a feather bed and a sound roof. I wish, however, I had my pocket compass, that we might make tracks lor Lyr.dhurst and a good dinner." "I>very much prefer to find the place lam in search of," said Wil- "' fred, jumping up. "Why should we not follow the windings of the little stream? It must lead us towards the sea, and it is at no great distance ! from the coast that Lydon's cottage is situated." "As you please. It we are benighted, don't blame me. It's been a foolish piece of business from beginning to end, and J am quite sick of it."

Wilfred's reply was to slip down the bank, on the top of which they had been resting, ; and start onward. In 3pite of no small amount of fajtigue, this woodland scenery was so cool, so green, so lovely, that he thoroughly enjoyed it, and was turning a deaf ear to the grumbling of his companion, when both were brought to a halt by piercing cries. "Oh, help! help!' wailed a childish vcice; "I am lost"! lost! lost!"

Before the sounds died a"'ay in a plaintive moan both the startled auditors were rushing in the direction whence it proceeded. The underwood grew thickly here, and they peered behind every tangle of bushes for the frightened child who had so piteously besought their ?ud, shouting to it as they went. "We have frightened the poor little thing with our noise," said V\ ilfred, when, hot and breathless, they met once again beside the river. "WeshoulJ have been more gentle. Perhaps she mistakes us for tramps or gipsies." * "Hark!" cried Laurence, and now another voice broke the silence. "Oh! please, good gentlemen," it said, "please help me! I have fallen into the marsh, and I'm sinking lower and lower —lower and lower!" "Where are you?" Laurencu shouted back. "Speak again and tell us where to find you." "Here" cried the voice; and "here!" and "here!" the echoes responded.

"Some one is amusing himself at our expense," said Laurence angrily, when no signs of the said marsh could be discovered, "Let Us proceed. If I come across the insolent vagabond who takes these liberties he shall feel the weight of my cane!" The threat- was greeted with a laugh so saucy in its long, musical peal that the provoked Laurence made another dash into the thicket; but here the furze grew in almost impenetrable masses, and though he felt sure that the lad who presumed to ridicule him could not be far off, he was unable to penetrate the .phalanx of thorns that guarded his hiding-place. "We must be nearing a farm," Wilfred suggested, "and the farmer's children are making merry with us. Our wisest course will be to endure it good humouredly." "Only till I get a chance of retaliation," muttered the other, tightening his hold on his light walkingstick, and glancing from side to side in the hope of pouncing at some unwary moment on his tormentor.

And now the river divided itself, and they knew not which branch to follow. Wilfred proposed that he should explore in one direction, Laurence in the other, and after a little hesitation the latter agreed to the plan.

But scarcely had he taken half-a-dozen steps when the voice that had been silent for some minutes burst forth again. "What happens to fine London gentlemen when they trespass in the poor man's wood?, They get lost! lost ! lost!"

And then the elfish laughter rang out, sometimes on one side of the bewildered pedestrians, sometimes on the other, till suddenly Laurence, whose powers of observation had been sharpened by travel, darted from the side of his friend.

In spite of the twilight that was settling down all over the land, and yet more densely here, where huge beech-trees overshadowed it, he had caught a glimpse of a lurking figure among some ferns, and sprang in pursuit of it.

Despising the warning cries of Wilfred, who vainly essayed to keep up with him, on he rushed, sometimes seeing the figure in rapid flight, sometimes altogether losing sight of it, and once being provoked beyond measure by another trill of taunting laughter close to his ear. But now the bending of the tall brackens reveals the course the fuigtive is taking. A more open ppace is just ahead, where evasion, will no longer be possible, and Laurence sets his teeth together, and exults in an approaching capture.

The figure only half seen in the ferns now raises such a piteous appeal for mercy that Wilfred Stuart is thrilled by it, and even the exasperated Laurence makes a momentary pause. In an instant the advantage is seized, and the flying form has bounded past him down a hitherto unseen declivity, sharp and abrupt as the side of a disused chalk-pit, and there disappeared. At the same headlong speed Laurence also plunges down the precipice, and to his dismay he plunges into a pool of black and stagnant water, the silvery laughter that has hitherto tantalized him rising in unkind mockery of his -mishap. As, chilled and cramped by the ice-cold water, he feebly swims round to find a place where he can crawl out, the boughs of an alder high above him are parted, and a face peers through them at the swimmer. [*TO BE CONTINUED. 1