The Storyteller. A MAN IN A MILLION.

Waikato Argus, Volume IV, Issue 288, 14 May 1898, Page 1 (Supplement)

The Storyteller. A MAN IN A MILLION.

CHAPTER VI. Perhaps Irvine was right, yot none the less, it is wrong to be always looking out for the appearance of thunder-clouds when the sky is blue. Heaven meant us to enjoy our lives in all innocence, and while doing so to leave the events of the future, which we ne'er may see, to the Providence that rules all. When they arrived home they found that McGregor and Yacoob had gone to Booboo-boo, but Clements had called to dine with them. Irvine was unusually quiet during dinner. He was thinking how happy he had been tbat day and of his approaching departure for the far .south on the business of hia firm. • Clements,' he said, after coffee had been served, ' I feel that I want a walk. You will keep the girls company to-night, won't you ?' 1 I'll be delighted, I'm sure,' replied Clements, in his most youthful tone of voice.' Tho drawing-room was never complete of a night without Mammy Yacoob. She wa3 quite one of the family and dearly she loved Hilda ; she was the first in hor room in the morning, and the last to leave it ; often sitting by her darling's bedBide, singing her strange, wild,.wpe songs, that had the ring of far-off forest lands in them, or telling her weird tales of African folkfore, till Hilda's blue eyes closed in sleep. Then Mammy Yacoob would gently kiss her brow, and retire, saying to herself, perhaps ' I dessay my good-for-nuffin' bamboo hab retire to res' long 'go. Nebah mind ;. I'se happy.' The bamboo referred to was her husband, of course. It was a lovely night when Irvine set out to walk through the woods to 800-boo-boo. A great round moon, like a monster blood-orange, was rising up out of tho sea, and tinging the waves in a triangle of light that went broadening away towards the horizon. Irvine felt glad of the moon's company, and as he left the city he cast a glance or two behind to make sure he was not " shadowed." He reached Glengyle House safely at last, however, and found McGregor quietly smoking on the verandah. He welcomed the young man, and Yacoob made haste to bring him a rocking-chair and coffee. • You will stay hero to-night, Baid McGregor, ' and we shall talk together.' • Yes, with pleasure ; and I, too wanted to talk. Yes, sir, there is something on my mind to tell you ; something I had promised myself not to say a word about until I was Van Doomp and Irvine but I've broken my promise to myself, and —well, I'm going to speak,' • I am listening, Douglas. And 1 know what you are going to say. loulove little Hilda, and you are far too honourable to tell her so until you have seen me. ' How could you have guessed V ' Dear boy how could anyone help loving Hilda ] I can't live for ever and I should like to see her settled before long.' 1 You rejoice my heart, sir !' • Stay. Pray don't say that; for what I have to tell you I had rather left unsaid. Irvine, much a 5 I regard you, Hilda, I fear, can never be yours.' « Oh ! sir -' 1 Yacoob, go to the kitchen and make more coffee. Now, Douglas, we are alone, and I can speak freely. I am all but a broken and a bankrupt man. Clements, my kindly partner, has stretched out a hand to help me to tide over tho evil day, and I have promised that Hilda shall be his wife; though I would sooner far lie down to die than force her inclinations.' Irvine had sprung to his feet, almost kicking away the rocker on which he had sat. He took several rapid turns up and down the balcony before he spoke again, and what he did soy was cruel in the extreme. " Why did you not take your daughter to the slave market and sell her to the highest bidder, sir 1 ?" " Spoken like a young man and a fiery Scot," replied McGregor very quietly. " I will not retaliate by answering you angrily; but I'll answer honestly. Doe 3 my daughter reciprocate your affection V " I have not asked her." "I know, I know; but you are not a fool ; you must have found out whether or not she loves you." " I do most sincerely believe she does." " And I tell you now, Douglas Irvine, that I would a hundred times sooner have you for a son-in-law than Clements, long though I have known him." " Then, oh ! dear sir, forgive me for talking so impetuously." McGregor held out his hand and the young man grasped it. " Are things really so bad as you imagine V said Irvine. The next sentence of McGregor's seemed spoken more in reverie than directly to his companion. " Your going to Comoro and Mozambique is the last straw that breaks the camel's back. Your going prevents the arrival of the Niagara. My commercial life depended on her arrival, Vail Doomp

has an interest in ray downfall ; he has played his best card now and all is lost, or would be—except for Clements." Irvine was silent for some minutes, then he got up and buttoned !iis light coat across his breast, as if the night breeze that swept ever the sea had suJdonlv chilleil him.

" Good-night/' he said, " goodnight—father." •' But, my dear boy, you are not going ? You will not go and expose yourself to the dangers of the forest to-night? Think of those deathladen dews, Douglas."

' Dear sir, do not try to detain mo. I must get away. You have spoken, but I have to think. And I must walk too. To sit still now would kill mo. Good-night, good-night.' He tore himself away. McGregor watched his retreating figure hastening away forestwards till the gloom of the trees swallowed it up. Then the merchant went sadly and silently indoors. Instead of returning, Irvine struck off at right angles into the forest. He feared nothing at present. What wera night dews to him now that he was to lose Hilda? Why death itself would be a happy release to him. So he thought. Lose Hilda ! He spoke the words aloud, and it seemed someone else's voice that said them.

Lose Hilda ! He never knew till this moment how dearly he loved her. What a terrible awakening this was from what was surely the happiest dream ever vouchsafed to man below. Lose Hilda ! Coubl she love Clements 1 What could a man like him ever be to a girl like his Hilda 1 His Hilda 1 Nay, bis no more ; the very words had a mocking ring in them as he repeated them over and over again in the silence of the woods.

But stay, why coubl she not be hrs ? Need he go to meet the Niagara 1 Need he stretch out a hand to pull his house of cards around his faithful old friend McGregor ? Need he wantonly ruin his own happiness, and absolutely give his love away 1 Need he 1 Oh ! none can tell the struggle with love and conscience that Douglas Irvine maintained for hours and hours that night in the sombre forest.

Utterly worn out at last, he reached a little wooden platform among some cocoa-nut trees, and, clambering up, threw himself at full length, and fell fast asleep. Slowly through the trees from las grass hut, came at sunrise, Om del Rona, to pray. He carried in his hand his little carpet, on which, every morning for forty years and over, he had been wont to prostrate himself before Allah. He started to find his platform occupied, and that, too, by an unbeliever. But Om was a kindly-hearted old man ; his beard had been whitened by many sorrows, but his life was one of peace now with all mankind. He gently touched Irvine on the shoulder, simply saying, ' It is day.' The young man sot up shivering, and stared wildly round him ; but when his eyes rested on the old Arab he smiled,

' I fear I havo been trespassing,' he said ; ' forgive me.'

' But wait,' said Om ; ' wait till I have prayed, then come into my house and drink coffee. I will mix with it some fine herbs which will banish the fever I see in your eye." A few minutes after this, somewhat to his own surprise, he found himself telling this kindly old Arab all his troubles, and seeking for advice as youth need never be ashamed to do from the aged. • Your struggle has been hard,' he said, ' between love and duty, but you have the victory—you have rest. And rest is life. Be it yours, my son, to live blamelessly and conquer self. True happiness and peace consist not in ministering to one's own wants an 1 cravings, nor in worshipping pleasure, wealth, ambition, fame, or love, but in striving to help all "living creatures, or things around us, in checking passion till it fades and dies, and in hearing, in meekness and humility, the sufferings inseparable from human nature, for sorrow follows us through life as a shadow in the sunlight, nor leaves us until wc arc laid beneath the sod. And he who lives but to die, dying, shall live again through a blissful eternity.' Words such as these, and much more to the same effect spoke the aged and saintly Arab to Douglas Irvine I have mide no attempt to give his advice in his own diction, however ; it was full of metaphor and beautiful imagery, but just as full of truth—truth that brought peace to Irvine's sorrowing heart, and sent him away at last really and truly tiie victor. That same forenoon he presented himself at Van Doomp's. What a difference between the wise old hermit and this thin-lipped, activeeyed man of the world and business !

Von Doomp met him, however, with a smile.

' Ah, goodt morning, my friendt. But how vhas it clot you look so tired 1 Maybe you not have some sleep last night.' 1 Thanks; no I walked the woods all last night or nearly. I was thinking. Fact is, I'm in love, and as I don't see a chance of ever being able to marry whom I should like to, I want now to get away to sea —to-day. Tbe dhow is ready, and loaded up with your ivory and gum and gold dust.'

'Shust so. Vhell I rhas glad. Dis speculation vhill be good for me and for you. You buys up all der sugar and all der tings cafery vheres. We vhill be dot rich ve shall not know vot to do.'

' I shall go now and get ready,' said Irvine.

' Dot's so 1 Good-bye, den, and God bless you, my boy. I see you mifc joy vheii you comes back.' Away went Irvine to bid adieu to his sister. He inwardly hoped that Hilda might not be about, for he could not quite trust himself yet. Flora was alone, and bade him such a tearful farewell that he was quite unmanned. ' Say Good-bye to Hilda for me. Don't look at mo so, dear sister. I love her, there ! you know the truth ; but she is to be the bride of another, and I dare not see her now. Give her that kiss—no, on second thoughts, don't. Tell her, though—tell her—no, Flora, tell her nothing. Good-bye, good-bye ; pray for me, and—oh, yes, Hilda can pray for me, too.' ' Dood-byc, Missie Irvine.' It was 'Tinka who spoke. He lifted the child in both hands high above bis head, and kissed her in the air.

'Good-bye, charming fairy,' he said. 'Take care of Miss Hilda for rne.' And away he ran. That same forenoon a six-pounder gun was fired from a huge dhow leaving harbour and bearing up for the south. At the same time the Dutch Hag was run up,to the peak. It fluttered there awhilo, then was lowered to half-mast, and hung drooping there.

This was Irvine's sorrowful farewell.

A whole month went by, but as yet Clements had made no attempt to press his suit upon Hilda. He was too wise, or thought he was, to say anything to startle her while her mind was still fresh with the grief of having lost a biother, if not a lover.

And he had gone away, too, without saying one word of farewell.

Hilda could not understand this, nor could she at first credit it. She had not been about when he called ; but surely, oh ! surely, he would return before the dhow sailed. But the dhow did sail, and although she and Flora stood on the housetop waving their handkerchiefs, except for the qun fired and the flag flying sorrowfully at half-mast, Irvine made no sign. Flora was pained to see her pupil so downcast, and did all she could to cheer her.

'He dared not see you before he left,' she said, 1 Dared not, dear Flora ? What do you mean V ' His feelings would have overpowered him.' ' You think, then, he lo he cares for me just a little V 'He cares for you very much. Too much, I fear, for his own peace of mind.'

' I oannot understand it, nor you, Flora. But I will live and hope in the words you have spoken.' No one can be unhappy very long in Zanzibar, the air is far too pure, and sorrow is a plant that thrives but badly in tbe sunshine. Hope whispered to Hilda a flattering tale, and she was all heart and ears to listen to it. So the time went on. In the long dark forenights the sun always sets about six in Zanzibar—when tired of singing, reading and playing, Hilda, Katinka and Mrs Yacoob used to get Flora in a corner, and make her tell them story after story about that far-off foreign land—Scotland. They never tired listening to these, and even preferred Flora's simple tales to Walter Scott's novels, because they went more directly to the heart.

Henry Arthur Clements rose one morning with a firm resolve uppermost in his mind. He meant that very forenoon to begin to make himself agreeable to Hilda. So he took an abnormally long time with his toilet.

And after be had arrayed himself in his neatest and most juvenile attire, he critically examined his face in the glass. He found more crow's feet there and more wrinkles than he had been previously aware of; so he soon got tired of the scrutiny, and sat down to rest and think.

' I'll be kind to her,' he said to himself. ' She shall never want for anything. Her slightest wish shall be gratified, even anticipated. And why not? lam well off. I'm rich. So would McGregor himself have been b: d he not burned his fingers with private speculation—happily for me, though in one way I'm sorry for my partner. Wo shall go to England on our honeymoon. Poor little dear, how delighted she will be with everything she sees in London. As for Irvine, why the idea is preposterous ! But an appointment at Seychelles will make him happy."

(To be continued),

Wheels in your head, ungreased. That's awkward. Not drink ? No. Flu Flu, you know what that is ? Influenza, that's not brought on by swallowing a box of dominoes. It's a very severe cold in every part of the body ; the treatment is pure, simple and effective. Take Woods' Great Peppermint Cure; it knocks it out every time. Paste this on the kitchen clock. 5