The Storyteller.

Waikato Argus, Volume IV, Issue 281, 30 April 1898, Page 1 (Supplement)

The Storyteller.

A MAN IN A MILLION + CHAPTER 11. ‘ Au, Irvine, my lad ! come inside,’ cried McGregor, cheerfully. ‘ We’re botli precious glad to see you.’ * What a mole-hole to work in, to be sure T said Irvine, ‘ Now ray office at old Van dor Doomp’s ia light and airy. I have the sunshine, the glorious sunshine, and my place is positively gay with wild flowers, and redolent of the blossom of orange and citron. Nobody brings you flowers, I’m sore. Nobody would bring flowers to a mole-hole. Now, only yesterday, my sister and Hilda, accompanied hy pleasant little Mrs Yacoob, had been roaming in tho woods, and came to call on me, laden with flowers and fruit.’ ‘Yacoob, you’re a splendid engineer. One other sherbet, please.’ ‘ Yas, sah. Sartainly, sah. With pleasure, sah.’ As the conversation flagged for a moment, Irvine filled up tho interval by humming an operatic air. ‘ You’re happy to-day.’ ‘Not more than usual, father. But, by the way, that brings me to business. Here are a couple of bills from Van Doomp. They fall due in a month. Stow them away somewhere where the white ants can’t eat them.’ McGregor took the bills. They were his own private business. He nodded to Clements to intimate this as lie put them in his pocket. Somehow his hand shook a little as he did so. ‘ And, now, what do you think 1 Van Doomp is sending me away to Comoro and Mozambique to intercept the * Niagara.’ Smart fellows, those Yanks, but Van Doomp is smarter. I shall buy up all the sugar and spices and stuff in both islands, and then if they don’t purchase from mo at our price—that is, at the Van Doomp price—they can take their chance of the market hero, or go to Bombay in ballast. He has promised that if I manage this bit of business properly he will change the title of the firm to Irvine and Doomp—it sounds well, doesn’t it 1 I’ve written it all over my blottingpad to see how it would look, and also to make sure old Van shouldn’t forget it. And then I’ll get married.’ ‘ It’ll take you some time to get back from Mozambique, won’t it V said Clements. ‘ Yes ; six months, perhaps. You sec I’m going in a dhow, and then I’ll have to do my business and wait for the ‘ Niagara.’ ’ Clements felt easier in his mind now. Six months is quite a long time, be thought. Anything might happen in six months. Ships might sink, dhows might founder, people die, or get married. The bungalow at 800-boo-boo really belonged now to Clements, though it had been designed and built by McGregor in happier and more prosperous days, long gone by. It was a charming cot, in a charming situation, situated on a point of land, with gardens in front and behind, and laved on two sides by the crystal waters of the Indian Ocean. In the rear of the bungalow a large space had been cleared of trees, and trenched and planted with spices and an orange-grove. The forest had been thrust back as it were, so that not a breath of its fearfully dangerous miasma ever came near the house. lc was said that Glengyle House, as the bungalow was called, was the only place in the island, outside the city, where a white man could sleep for a whole night without being down with fever next morning. Both Clements and McGregor often slept here, and sometimes, though rarely, even Hilda herself, with her governess, Miss Irvine. There was, indeed, a ‘ McGregor wing ’ to the bungalow. This was built on the south side, and tho waves rippled close up to the door and windows, sc that one could fall asleep fanned by the ocean’s breezes, and soothed by its soft and dreamy lullaby. Delightful this, surely, or would bo from a poet’s or romancist’s point of view. But the waves did not always lisp and sing on tho silver sand. No; there were nights when the wind roared through the woods, when the sky was dark and starless, and angry seas spent their fury on the beach, tho salt spray scudding high over tho gardens and verandah, and whitenining the very chimneys of the bungalow itself. Strange to say, of late McGregor had come to like nights such as these best. Accompanied by Yacoob only, he would steal away from the city after nightfall, and walk through the forest to the house on the point; and his faithful servant, who slept, as a clog sleeps, outside on the mat, would hear him tramping steadily and incessantly up and down his room-floor till far into the small hours of morning. He would often hear his master groan, and sigh too, as if lie Jiad some sad sorrow that he could unburden his mind of, do what lie might. But next morning at breakfast, Yacoob would find no difference in him—just the same neat attire, the same glittering white beard, pleasant face, and kindly smile, although perhaps the hand might shake a little as it lifted the fragrant Mocha to the lips. There were no signs of sorrow tonight, however —on this evo of Jidda’s birthday. Like every other

apartment in the bungalow, the din-n«-room was most tastefully furnished with a lujhtsorucness that was in keeping with the climate. The walls were beautifully painted, the pictures that adorned it had been chosen with care, pretty bits of water-colour most of them, landscapes, seascapes, and trcescapes, quaint morsels of Arab architecture, and glimpses of foreign bazaars, in which the darkness of shadowy backgrounds was relieved by picturesqueness of dress and brightness of attire. The floor was of polishel teak, covered here and there with mats and skins. Tall palm-ferns and crimson-flowered cacti, hugh-coloured lamps on stands, low skinclad couches, drapery, and curtains all combined to give the room more the appearance of some Oriental divan than anything else. T«o great waving punkah that depended from the roof, the dark-skinned servitors gliding in and out, and the ebony-faced fan-girls arrayed in crimson and white silk, certainly did not detract from the picture. But the three gentlemen themselves were thoroughly English. And they dined like Critons, too ; slowly, peacefully, with muc'.i cheerful conversation, and an interlarding of anecdote and even joko. After dinner Irvine hid retired to the brightly-lightod drawing-room, and was earnestly busy tuning up a beautiful guitar, a gift for Hilda, an instrument which, thanks to her indefatigable German tutor, she could play well. There was something inexpressibly sweet, but at the same time sad, in the tones of this guitar; as his fingers touc'ie I the trembling strings every note seemed to find a respondent chord in his heart. He placed it in its case at last, and sank into a fauteuil. Like all Scottish Highlanders, Irvine was quite as deeply imbuad with superstition as with poetry and romance. He smiled to himself now, as he sat there, but the smile soon died away on his lips. • Bother the guitar !' he thought; ' but why is there sue!) sorrow in its tones 1 "My imagination, I suppose. Can there really be some grief in store for Hilda and me 1 Imagination again. Dear Hilda, I wonder if she docs care for me 1 Oh, yes, she does ; and there can be no imagination about that. Weil, to-morrow is her birthday, and I have a good mind to tell her all I feel on her account, But—no, I will not. Poor McGregor, Tie's been such a true and trusty friend to me. Well, the least I could do would be to talk to father first. That is the honourable way. Decidedly old-fashioned, I fear ; quite on a par with going on one's knees to pop the question. Hcigho ! I wish that guitar was not so sad in tone. Happy thought ! to go and smoke beside Uncle Clements.' But { uncle ' was himself in a reverie. He was thinking of Hilda, and how her innocent blue eyes would sparkle with joy when she saw the lovly Arab palfrey led roun-1 to the bungalow door. He had no doubts he should win Hilda for his bride. He was not troubled with imagination, nor romance either. A primrose by a river's brink was to Clements simply a primrose by a river's brink, and nothing else ; and there was no more sadness in a guitar, to Clements' ear, then there was in a banjo ; of the two instruments he probably preferred the banjo. Yet to-night, as ho sat here, he male a sort of vow to himself, though perhaps it was a somewhat selfish one, that when he married Hilda he would be the kindest and most inlulgent of husbands, and that his wife should never want for anything that wealth could procure her. 1 Well, 1 have no doubt that Clements was sincere. He was verging on fifty five, it is true ; but is there not a proverb about an old man's darling versus a young man's slave. ? • Hullo ! dreaming, were you V said Irvine. ' Come with me; I want to show you something.' Clements followed him into t he drawing-room, and the young man opened the case and showed him the guitar. ' For Hilda !' he said, with sparkling eyes. ' Indeed.' ' Now, listen while I sing ' Goodbye, sweetheart, good - bye,' Most appropriate song for me, by the way ; but I want you to hear the tone of the instrument.' Clements listened politely. ' Somewhat melancholy !' was the verdict. •' You, even you think so 1 Then it can't be all my imagination. Heigho ! Well, Clements, I don't mind telling you a secret. J know you are no end of a good fellow, and you are my friend. Of course you arc far too old to know what love is but there may have been a time—' ' Of all the conceited young pups !' thought Clements. ' Well, I'm going to marry Hilda.' • You have asked her V ' Oh, no, not yet ; but ' ' Irvine, Irvine, where are you V It was McGregor's voice and Irvine hurried away. ' I'll tell you more again,' were his last words to Clement. Clements smiled and nodded after him, sighed, and went away to smoke aud dream again. * * * * * Hilda opened her eyes next morning somewhat in astonishment to hear a gentle tapping at tho door. If it was Mrs Yacoob come to call

her, why did she not come in at once 1 But the door opened slowly at last, and, with a tiny chattee of iced water in her hand, there entered briskly enough a child that, judging by her dress and beauty, might have come straight from Elfin-land itself. ' Oh, you strange, droll, pretty thing, who and what are you 1 I believe I'm not awake yet. I must be dreaming.' The child's reply was evolved or unrolled all in one quick breath, and all in the same tone of voice, and had evidently been learnt by rote.' Tee 'Tinkri, Missie; I'se you' buffday p'esent ; I'se you' maid fo' true. Missiu mus' get up, and many happy 'turns ob de day. You likee my 'ppearance, Missie V ' Oh, you're charming ! Miss Irvine, Flora, are you dressed 1 Run quick, and look at fairy.'

Flora—the governess, and sister to Irvine, who slept in a room communicating with Hilda's—now came in arrayed in her dressing-gown, and the two girls laughed so heartily, yet so joyfully, that merry little Mrs Yacoob, who had been listening at the door, must needs come in and join the group. The ' butFday p'esent' was a little half-caste Arab, of olive complexion and eyes like jet. She was dressed just as McGregor had commanded, and the young ladies stood her on a chair to admire her.

It was still early when Hilda and her governess got down to breakfast. Little 'Tinka took to waiting at the table as naturally as if she had been to the manner born. They were laughing at the fairy's sedateness when Mr McGregor himself came in, and Hilda ran to meet him, receive congratulations, and thank him for the ' buffday p'esens,' ' But,' said McGregor, ' we're all going out for a sail in the yacht, and wo shall call first at the bungalow, where I think Irvine and Clements have each something for you.' Arrived at 800-boo-boo, they found the two gentlemen waiting for them at the main entrance to the bnngalow gardens. And then the palfrey was led round.

Poor Hilda ! How beutiful she looked as she stood there, hat in hand, the morning breeze toying with her wealth of soft brown hair that floated over her dress of white and blue, her lips apart, her eyes wide with wonder and delight. ' But—oh, Mr Clements, that lovely little creiture is surely not for me !'

The palfrey pawed the ground with the front fore-foot, and hinnied low and fondly. ' Mustapha answers for me,' said Clements,

• For one brief moment the impulsive girl threw her arms round her father's partner's neck, and kissed his cheek, ft was a very happy moment for Clements.

Mustapha was caparisoned Arab fashion; a square cloth of scarlet and gold covered his body, over this was the daintiest of buff saddles, the stirrups only admitting the toes, an I the bridle and reins were adorned in ribbons and bells.

Hilda gave one glance towards the forest, then nodded to Clements. A minute after she had disappeared among the trees. It was fully half an hour before she returned, flushed and joyful, Irvine would have assisted her off, but she beckoned again to Clements, and tho pleasure was his. The guitar came in for its share of admiration next. They were alone in the drawing-oom when the young man presented his gift. She thanked him, but—she did not offer him a cheek to kiss.

• Play,' he said, ( play and sing ;' he threw the ribbon over her neck as he spoke. She had scarcely played a minute ere she laid tho guitar gently back in its case, and Irvine noticed that her eyes wera brimful of teirs. ' I cannot play to-day,' she said ; 'it sound." so sad. I shall play when you are far away at sea ' The words were very simple, surely, but Irvine had reason to remember them afterwards, and they brought him comfort at a time when hope itself had almost fled. They spent the day cruising around among the numerous lovely coral islands in this neighbourhood. Hilda, with her governess and Irvine, landed and went away to study natural history in one of the3e weo green isles.

Miss Irvine looked the pink of propriety in those spectacles of hers. Indeed, she looked learned,, and so ah« was, too ; but she was neither old nor prim, and if not beautiful, at all events she was comely and pleasant. On this coral island, somehow or other, she managed to lose Hilda, and Irvine, and it was three hours before she met them again, coming hand in-hand through tho jungle. Walking hand-in-hand, be it remembered, was a necessity here, although Irvine did not grieve on that account,

Just as the sun was dipping down towards the horizon, Clements and McGregor, seated on the dhow's poop, noticed the skiff coming round the point, Flora rowing her brother and Hilda in the stern sheets, but all singing and all gay.

About an hour afterwards the dhow, still a long way off the land, was lying becalmed, But day was merging into eventide, while sea and sky were softly blended into one ; the islands, and boats or dhows, with sleepy sails, seemed suspended in tho air, and tho ever-changing colours of the clouds were like the pearl tints of splendid sea shells.

1 I've been so happy to-day,' Hilda told Irvine that evening, with innocent candour. There do come such days as these in the lives of the young, but, alas ! none too often. With what fond regret they are Joolced back to afterwards ! for we never truly appreciate happiness till it is gone, perhaps never to return. (To be Continued.)