THE CHRISTMAS PRESENT.

Wairarapa Standard, Volume II, Issue 55, 18 January 1868, Page 4

THE CHRISTMAS PRESENT.

“You may he sure, dear father and mother, how pleased I was with the prospect of being of so much use to you, and of returning in a little time all the money you had spent upon my education. I scarcely hesitated a single moment, and you must forgive me fo? closing with them woutbout first seeking your consent. This was the day before Christmas Eve, and on the morrow we we were to sail. So you see I had no time to write, and then wait for your answer. I gave my address, and promised to he ready when he should call for me in the morning; and then I left them.

“The next thing I did was to send off the parcel that I had been going to bring home with me, and I enclosed the five-pound note in a letter explaining everything, and seeking your forgiveness for going so far away without seeing you again. I gave you an address in Madras, which Colonel St Hillaire said would find me, and missing such an excellent situation, I hoped to hear from you almost immediately ou my arrival there, with some kindly words of encouragement for my bravery in taking such a step ; for indeed it was a bitter trial to me, to leave you without a parting kiss and blessing.”

The tears came into Maggie’s eyes again on recalling the grief of that day, “'And we thought you so cruel and heartless all the time ! ” said her father.

“Oh Maggie, my child, how we have wronged you! ” “Hush, father,” said Maggie; “all that is passed now. That was only a trial of our faith in one another.”

-“ Ah, Maggie, your mother’s a jewel ‘of a woman ! ” said the old man. “ She came through the trial unscathed.” Maggie took her mother’s hand, and pressed it fervently to her lips. “That night,” continued Maggie, pursuing her narrative, “I was going home in an omnibus, after making some purchases for myself—for Miss St Hillaire had told me what to provide for mv residence abroad, and had even advanced me twenty pounds to help towards my outfit, when I met with Mr Sanderson. He said he was coming home to spend Christmas with his sister, and asked me if I had any message or parcel for you that he could convey for me. I had been very sad before, when I saw him, it i brought hack all thoughts of home and you, and cut me up so, that I could scarcely speak to him. I hardly know what I said; but I believe I told him that I was going to India the next day, and had written to you tell you all about it. He wanted me to go home with him for an hour or two see his wife, but having everything to pack for my journey, I could not spare the time. “ That night I told my late little pupil’s mamma that I had met with another situation, and was going abroad instead of home, the very next day; hut she was in -such distress, poor thing, that she didnotseem to take much interest in my affairs, so I did not trouble her much with them, and was very glad that Colonel St Hillaire had thought it necessary te call upon her. She kissed me very affectionately when bidding me good-bye, and said she was sorry to part with me, hut hoped that I should do ■well. Colonel St Hillaire himself had come in the cab for me, as there was not much time to lose, and ha had sent the • children with his sister and their maid at once to the vessel lying in the docks. “ I’ll tell you all about our overland route another time, and how we had to travel about when we arrived in India,

“ The colonel was obliged to join his regiment and go further north‘to quell some disturbances that were breaking out, almost as soon as we had reached Madras. So he left us with some friends, hoping to come hack in the course of a few weeks to find a residence for us. But he could not come, and his sister, not knowing what to do proposed that we should follow him and take up our abode in Delhi, or somewhere nearer to his quarters. To this he agreed, and we journed further north. The country was beginning to be in a state of agitation, rand we were very anxious to he in the neighborhood of our protector.

“Miss St Hillaire would not take a house and furnish without her brother’s superintendence, so we lived in apartments in Delhi until that frightful disturbance broke out that you must have read of in the papers. We fled, with many other inhabitants, and took refuge in a little village; but our evil destinies pei*sued us here. The village was entered by the rebels, and a dreadful massacre ■amongst the whites, or Christians, took “place. We had a faithful native servant with us, who assisted us to hide until by the shadow of night we could get away, and then a long and painful journey on foot ensued. Our aim was to join the colonel, and place ourselves under the protection of the English army, for there was nothing but treachery amongst the native soldiers; but this was not so easily accomplished as we had hoped, “Oh, father and mother, you happy home-birds, sitting comfortably by your English hearths, know nothing of the horrible trials we, in the heart of that Indian war, endured ! I cannot tell you all that we suffered, nor how we could suffer it and live. Those two dear beautiful children, whose very helplessness made them dearer in our eves, were perfect little angels through it all. The heat, fatigue, and hunger they endured was almost beyond belief. Their English nurse had fled from ms on the first alarm of danger, and we never saw her more. Our native servant was very good, and became their ayah readily; so she, with myself and Miss St Hillaire, hy turns

contrived to carry the two little pets (who were just three and four years of age) when they could manage to walk no longer.” “Oh, my bairn! my poor dear Maggie! Thee has suffered, indeed!” said her mother, looting at her pitifully. . “ Was there no carriages or railways in them furrin parts ? said her father, much interested an his daughter’s account.

“The railways were not to he depended upon,” replied Maggie; “such; vile tricks were played with them by the enemy. We did contrive, by dint of bribing largely, to hire a palanquin part ■of the way, but the peaceable natives were so afraid df aiding the English to escape, that if they came within a league of any of the beligerent parties, they always threatened to leave us. They were not very long in putting their threat into execution; and in the midst of a burning sandy plain they left us standing, and fled. They had given us no warning this time, so we looked out alarmed at what had frightened them, and saw a >cloud of dust in the distance that betokened the approach of a heavy party—whether of friends or foes we could not determine—but fear, more than hope, took possession of us, and we hastened to make our escape whilst yet a chance remained.

“We rapidly made for the cover of a massive jungle, at some little distance on our left, and managed to reach it in time to hide before the heavy troop came in sight. They were those horrid native soldiery, who stop at nothing in the form of murder and loot. They instantly seized our forsaken palanquin, and having ransacked a few small parcels of useful things that we had forgotten in our haste, they smashed the conveyance into pieces and burnt it. When they had set off to continue their destructive route, and there was no danger of their return, we ventured out of our hiding-place, and proceeded to travell on foot. The children had fallen asleep from very weariness, and both had to he carried. They were not babies in weight I can assure you, and it was no trifle to face the burning mid-day sun, footsore and week from want of food, whith those living burdens to bear. We must have had supernatural strength vouchsafed us for the occasion, for when I think of it now, I can scarcely credit what I went through then.” “ Poor child ! poor child! ” said father and mother together. “ A greater trouble yet soon fell upon us„” continued Maggie, in a sadder strain. “ Poor Miss St Hillaire, who was neither so young no so strong as I, fell down in a fainting fit, and the ayah left me to watch by her and the sleeping children whilst she ran to find water to restore her. She was so long gone that I feared that she had forsaken me too, and I never was more rejoiced than when I presently saw her returning at the top of her speed with a bottle that I knew contained some of the desired beverage. We dashed some in the poor lady’s face, and then laying it on the hot sand, to take off its chill, we poured a little down her throat, and soon had the satisfaction of bringing her to consciousness. We were all glad of the refreshing draught, for we were dying of thirst; and as it was already warm, we were not afraid of taking it in our present heated state. “After a little delay, we pushed on with difficulty, anxious to get to a place of shelter in the village now in sight. When there, the ayah advised me to leave Miss St Hillaire; —who was in a very weakly state, and totally incapable of proceeding any further on foot—-at the house of a relative of the woman’s own. I was very Icath to do this, feelling that the responsibility the care of the children would he to me was almost too great to face alone. I asked if this friend could not shelter us all until Miss St Hillaire was able to proceed, and we would pay her well; but she said, quite angrily, that if I alarmed her friends by such a bold proposal, they would not eveu take the suffering lady. Terrified, for fear of losing even this small comfort, I held my tongue, and let the woman have her way. “I shall never forget the agony ofmind with which I parted with Hiss St Hillaire, and set off again on foot with my precious little charges. We had obtained a good, though hurried meal, at the humble dwelling; and the children were both refreshed, and able to walk again. The village was scarcely more than one in name. It consisted of but a score of straggling houses, and the accommodation was most wretched. We could obtain nothing in the shape of a conveyance there, and night was drawing rapidly on us. Fortunately our ayah knew this part of the country well, and kept cheering me on with the promise of shortly reaching a respectable town, (To be concluded in our next.)