CHAPTER XLIX.

Waikato Times, Volume XIX, Issue 1636, 30 December 1882, Page 5

CHAPTER XLIX.

Next day brought me another letter from Walter — or rather, Julian — from which I learnt, as I expected, thai Addison was now in a fair way of recovery and — also, as I expected — that he had refused to give any information about the matter which had taken Julian to Yaramboona. . " He has now forbidden me to mention the subject at all," wrote the latter, " but he is very much shaken in body and mind, and I [ hope that as his health improves, I may find him less obstinate. In any case I cannot leave him just yet, for, be he my father or not, he has always in the main been very kind to me." In the hope that Addison would have afforded some corroboration of Father Or- ; monde's statement, I had hitherto deferred ; making Julian acquainted with it, nor did I i now deem it advisable to further unsettle his mind while he felt himself bound to remain by the side of the sick man at Yaramboona. " I respect your sense of duty," I wrote to him, " and if you feel that you ought yet' to remain with Mr. Addison, by all means do so. I am going with Shuter and Mucklebody on a cruise for a fortnight or so, but I will arrange ; to have my letters forwarded to me, and I '. trust that by -the time I return to Melbourne : you will be ready to return also." i '. I showed my letter to Paola before I sent it, : and she agreed with me that it was' better," \ for the present, to leave Walter in ignorance of what we had' discovered. - > : " I am learning to look upon him as your ] Bon," she said, letting her calm dark eyes rest i upo» my features," and, indeed, it is scarcely j possible to , doubt that he is, for ihe *resem- i blance between you grows more apparent every i day." • - ' ■ . VYou do not, then, find fault with him for 1 electing to remain with.the sick' man, instead i tif hurrying baok'to Melbourne to be near ii you?',' •■, ' • ",-■'■< mv ' '" j „ Paola, stretched ' out, her *ami with some- i I thing of' the impressive earnestness ,bf>/her. • -father. ?• I find no fault with; him,",;she jan-, •- .swered, proudly.^ " On' the contrary; I honour ' him for.it. <),That is but'a p'oor,ajad,d6gradedf- ,'] love which -, is 1 built 'up° n ' '-* ne ru i nB ' P f on £ $ to .another 1} j- Thewpnlan w r ho ] | exacts suph a sacrifice is/unworthyt o| it',,and r >j th^.jnaiijwho makes.'it'is'no« v aim»ri !" « r ; ', lj , i mornin'g.camej bright;,|nd fair, and . < 'With?an,inpreasuig nofth-wes>erly^b):eeze;'tlie, 'Maggie? i/aufle ffitoo&l ;out' oij; Hqb'son's Bay; ? j, antp'th^wjatersj of ,tho,f splendidi lah^4o>ke^d. ' .harbour which •I»nowJßeheld v for'the fir ||<iinie.' , The,yttleVcyaft'was,''aS'rher^6j^er^ - V no'exao'ly^yacht,'''in^app,^xanoe,tbut!;fhe ,j '/had. /all^speld Scotchman's 'f |; whe¥^/^ar'which%hadfeat|firsili'* beenSpng £

■ yjiuter laughed at the' lugubrious t'ysshe, but lie had himself begun to look very green, and the, laugh was far from a hearty>one. ' " Hoot awa, man 1 " said Mucklebody, from the helm;'" the sea's naething — joost naething aval But if ye're seek, that's anitiher znaiiter; an' 'aae a'U $ooab ria~ her unner the lee o' the land till the breeze slackens a wee — as it's sure tae dc when that drap o' rain comes doon." The 1 "drfip' o* rain" .came down; the clouds cleared away ; and, as we stood 'off the land again, the sun came out once morelighting up with -sudden glory 'the heaving surface of the bay, and glinting off the brasswork of an inward-bound steamer. " It's ane. o' the New Zealand boats," said Mucklebody, shading his eyes with his hand as he looked across the white-cre*sted waves — " either the Amrooma or ' the 'Ringarata. Ma certie ! but she's slippin' alang in style," he added, as he let the cutter fall off so as to run down towards the course of the steamer. A long, low boat, with raking masts and a red funnel— she ran swiftly past us while we Were, yet too distant to read the name upon her port bow, until Shuter turned a field-glass on her. " Ararooma," he said then. " Pretty name, too. One of M'Keckan and Stackwood's boats. Very fast. Have a peep?" — and I had a peep accordingly, little dreaming, as I looked at the gilt letters of tie softly-syllabled Maori word, under what circumstances I was soon to behold them again. Anchoring that night off Queenscliffe, we passed .through the Heads in the morning, and had no sooner got outside than a heavy southerly squall had almost brought this my chronicle to an untimely conclusion, by driving us on Pomt Nepean ; but the little craffbehaved splendidly, and almost justified her owner's enthusiastic declaration that he believed " she could sail deid tae windward on a pinch ! " Without further adventure, however, we ran along the coast to Western Port, and, anchoring under Phillip Island for the night, reached our destination by the afternoon of the next day. A low, weather-beaten wooden house, standing close to the flat, monotonous shore, and backed by dreary rises of sandy health — this portion of Mucklebody's recent acquisitions was not" calculated to fill the soul of the proprietor with delight ; ' but, as he remarked after a few moment's grim contemplation — "it didna maitter a bodle 1 " He had " ilka thing in the boatie that we needed ta mak oorselves comfortable, an' it wad be oor am faut if we didna." Our belongings were soon ashore, and, after a rough but hearty meal, we gathered round a roaring fire with our pipes — the old man who had been in charge of the place seating himself, with true colonial independence, in the chimney-corner. "What d'ye ca' that place ower there?" Mucklebody asked him, pointing through the window to the dim outline of the opposite shore. " That's French Island." " An' whaur's the nearest loon wi a postoffice?" " Grantville. It's about fives miles from ' here," answered the old fellow, pointing to the northward with the stem of a black claypipe. "Leastways they calls it a town, though there ain't no houses in the place except two hotels and a blacksmith's shop." " An' whaur's the post-office, then ?" "In one of the hotels. There's a coach, every day to Melbourne." " Place I told you of," said Shuter to me. " Can go there to-morrow and see if there are any letters for you." " Ay," said our host ; "if we get a breeze we'll tak a rin roon as far as Hastings, an' we can ca' in at Grantville by the way. Noo then, Mr. Feesh — ye've lookin' verra glum. Tak a jorum, man, an' .gie's a sang." Fysshe complied readily enough wtih the former part of this injunction, but, as he protested his inability to fulfil the latter, the Scotchman himself favoured us — first with a song — and then with a history of the Mucklebody family, in which the annals of that distinguished house were protracted to a length that sent, first the listeners, and finally the, narrator himself, to sleep.