CHAPTER VIII.—(Continued.)

Waikato Times, Volume XXII, Issue 1842, 26 April 1884, Page 5 (Supplement)

CHAPTER Vlll.—(Continued.)

" That's her," said Ebby. " How my heart goes pit-a-pat— l can't do it to-night, though we'll have the parlour all to ourselves. No, I won't do it to-night. Do come home with us, and save me. I'll take her foi a walk to-morrow, and drink a couple of whiskies faefere I return, that'll give me courage. Come in, Alice; there's only Mr. Gifford here." The creak of a door, a soft footfall, and Alice advanced into the room. Herbert, who had been greatly agitated while Ebby poured out his artless confidences, and had been turning red and white by turns, now felt his heart beat painfully, and was conscious of feelings he had never hitherto experienced. Always at bis ease he felt utterly gauche. He hardly knew how he returned Alice's pietty bow, and he knew his face was crimson. Alice, on the other hand, was no less agitated. It was natural for her to feel so when suddenly confronted with a rich, famous, and very handsome youth, bst when in him she recognised the young gentleman whose eyes had never been off her while she was on the stage, eyes that struck to her heart, and caused sensations to which she had been a stranger, it will be understood two persons in that room were utterly at sea. Alice looked very beautiful in her close-fitting dark dress, relieved with white lace at the cuffs and throat, her golden hair floating over her shoulders. She wore a small carmine camelia in her bosom, the Only relief, except the lace, to her sombre and on closer examination, threadbare black dress. Her complexion was puie and clear, as is the case with most golden-haired people, Buffused just then with the brightest crimson. It would have been an awkward scene but for poor unconscious Ebby, himself agitated by the beauty of the girl he loved so much, but eager to conceal his feelings. "Mr. Herbert Gifford, Alice," he said, in a hurried voice ; "Miss Alice Mostyn, Mr. Herbert Gifford. The lady who adorns my humble stage. Alice, to you and Mr. Gifl'ord I owe everything. You suggested an appeal to him; he responded like the gentleman he is. He did more, Alice ; he gave me a look, suoh a look ; I'll never forget it till my dying day. Oh, Alice, I felt when I met his eyes that the dark days were over, that the sun had burst out of the clouds and was shining, would shine for ever," " I am most happy to meet you," said Herbert at last, hesitating in his speech as ho had never done before. 11 You must come home with us to supper," said Ebby, breaking in ; " it's early, and the night's lovely, and it's no distance. We only live two streets away from your place. We're aristocratic, ha Iha 1 There 1 I've got back all my cheek again — asking a gentleman like you to come to our poor cottage. But, do come ?" he added, aside. "I can't do it tonight ; she's driving me mad, she's so beautiful — I never saw her look so well — she's what I made her out to be on the stage —an angel." " Yes," replied Herbert, I will take a walk with you— it's such a lovely night." " Then let's go at once," cried Ebby, eager to get out of the light — his cheeks were scarlet. " Here, Sprightly, help old Puddles to put out the lights and see everything safe. I'll take care of this "—and he took the bag in his arms. Herbert offered his arm to Alice, who took it almost unconsciously. When they touched each other a powerful galvanic battery seemed at work. Tottering almost with deliciously painful feelings this contact created, the two walked down the ricketty stairs, and out into the streets, now cleared of people, Ebby behind them, carrying the precious bag, which was so full of potentialities for his future life. Despite his unsuspecting nature, it was not without a pang — what lover could feel otherwise— that he saw the two handsome beings before him arm-in-arm. As the moon fell full upon them when they got out of the shadow of the building into the street, he thought he had never seen two nobler beings, two more suited to each other, and the poor fellow's heart grew cold, and he sighed deeply. It was a glorious moonlight night, such as is often vouchsafed to the great southern city in the early days of autumn, when the temperature is neither hot nor cold, when there is no " weather " to talk about. The great flood of silver light beautified every object, and formed that marvellous contrast of argent lights and deep shadows that give to night a loveliness such as day can never claim. There is an influence in moonlights that poets have sung about, romancists described, and scientists endeavoured to analyse, but which remains as inscrutable as it was when our forefathers wandered in the woods, and perhaps imbibed and transmitted it to us as they did the dread superstitions of the night that still have power over the most enborn of the dread, the dark, forests praised in savage breasts. Perhaps there is in the fact that of all lights, save iy the electric, the blue or actinic ray predominates in moonlight, and gives it wealth of uilver. In the lights of the sun, and of j . ordinary combustion, the yellow or the red ray governs, and gives us glare or heat. ' - Moonlight is cold, as are all bluos, but it is "gentle and soft, and calls up gentle and soft ; hence, it has ever been associated j

with love since Sappho and other poets sang of its boauty and its glamour. To enjoy moonlight one must be silent, and our three friends must have thoroughly enjoyed it, for their conversation was of the briefest. A few words dropped between Herbert and Alice, but they weie unnoticed, and the apenkezs hardly knew what they said. When they came to a corner, Ebby suddenly edged up. "I have forgotten something,'" be said; " I'll run back and get it. If you won't walk too fast I'll overtake you. They looked back, but caught only a glimpe o£ his flying figure, the legs gy) ating as usual, but the arms not to be suen — they held the bag. The facfc was Ebby had remembered the empty condition of the larder and cellar, and he made this pretext to cut round a corner and get to the little grocery near where he lived befoie the old woman closed it. He could smuggle in his goods by the back way. Long before Herbeit and Alice had got near the house the old grocery shop woman had been almost frightened out of her wits by his uncouth figure as he tumbled into the shop. When she saw who it was her face became vinegary, for the Mostyn's owed an account, which, according to repoit, seemed unlikely to be paid. She theiefore prepared heiself for a refusal of further credit, and a prompt demand for settlement at once, and in case of excuses she was prepared to launch out at the wickedness of people " who robbed a poor widder and her hoiphans to fill theirselves." " I wantjeheese, preserved fish of all kinds, sardines, lobsters, .salmon, oysters, lettuce, biscuits, a can opener, jam, fruits oi' all kinds, fresh biead, three shilling tea, the best print of butter," gasped Ebby, laying his bag on the counter. "Permit me to say, Mister," said the widow, eyeing at the same moment a frecklefaced girl -with him in curl-papers, who stood open-mouthed looking at Ebby's strange figiue and flushed face — he was puffing like a grampus— and feeling she could, in the coming exordium on the wickedness of the spoileis of the widow and orphans, point the moral and ndoin the tale by her mean?, " that your account hain't paid, though 1 sent this poor horphau live (irnes this week with it. And " " Well, well," said Ebby, who now had no thoughts except for the tieat to his paLon — he had even forgottea bis love and jealousy — " What is the amount? " The widow was taken aback, almost disappointed, for the exoidium looked well io be lost— she could not relieve her feelings. But then bho reflected this was only au artful question to bo followed by a statement that the account would be paid next morning, and she_biidled up again. " Two pounds, seventeen shillings and sixpence three farthings," she said, looking straight at Ebby in her best " I won't be humbugged " manner. " Oh, is Iliad all V" said Ebby, and plunging his hand into the bag lie drew thence — what a rfound the contents made — a handled of gold and silver. The widow stared. She firmly believed he had robbed a bank; his exeitment justified the suspicion. But she could not lefuse the j three sovereigns he tendeied, for all that. Money obtained illegally was consecrated if used to pay liabilities to the widow and the orphan?. She, theicfcuc, gave him change leadjly, and even smiled when he presented il to the carrotty-headed, freckle -faced " orphing," though it was another proof that he was a robber — " ea^y come, ea3_y go." And she supplied him with a bag foi his innumerable puichases, and pocketed two other gold pieces. Then Ebby ran to the corner publichouso and bought the most expensive vines and ppirits the publican had, and stag- , gered home with his burden, going down a right-of-way in order to get m the back way.