ISHMAEL; Or, IN THE DEPTHS.

Auckland Star, Volume XXI, Issue 35, 12 February 1890, Page 6

ISHMAEL; Or, IN THE DEPTHS.

By MRS EMMA D. E. N. SOUTH WORTH, Author of "Self-Raised," "Fair Play." "Ihe Missing Bride/ "A Noble Lord," " How He Won Her." "The Prince of Darkness," "Tried for Her Life," Etc.. Etc.

CHAPTER XXII.-(Continued.)

* Why should you refuse to take pay from me ?' said Mr Middleton.

Ishmael perhaps could hot answer thab question to his own satisfaction. At all events, he hesitated a moment before he replied: ' Why, you see, sir, what I do for the other professor is all in the line of my business ; but the small service I have just done for you is only a little bit of civility that I am always so glad to show to any gentleman — I mean to anybody at all, sir; even a poor waggoner, I often hold horses for them, sir! And, bless you, they couldn't pay me a penny.' 'Bub I can, my boy ! and besides you not only held my horse, and watered him, and rubbed him down, and watched tny carriage, but you fought a stout battle in defence of my goods, and got yourself badly bruised by the thieves, and unjustly accused by me. Certainly, it is a poor offering I make in return for your sufferings, in my interests. Here, my lad, I have thought better of it; here is a half eagle. Take it and buy something for yourself.' •Indeed, indeed, sir, I cannot. Please don't keep on asking me, persisted Ishmael, drawing back with a look of distress on his fihte face. 'Now, why could not the little fellow take the mo.ney that was pressed upon him? He wanted il> badly enough, Heaven knows? His best clothes were all patches, and this five do' Mar gold piece would have bought him a new sui.t. And besides there was an •Illustrated History of the United States' in that bookshop, thab really and truly Ishmael would have been ready to give a finger off either of his hands to possess; and its price wan just three dollars. Now, why didn't the little wretch take the money and buy the beautiful book with which his whole soul was enamoured ? The poor child did not know Arinaself. But you and I know, reader, don't we? We know that he coalci n6b take thi\fc money with bhe arm of that black-eyed little Jady around his neck ! Yes-, the arm of /Claudia was still most tenderly and protetebingly encircling his neck, and every few minutes she would draw down his rougl> head caressingly to her own damask cheek. Shocking ! wasn't it ? And you wonder how her aunt and uncl.fe could have stood bvand permitted it. Because they couldn't help it"! Miss Claudia was a little lady, angel born, who had never been contradicted in her life. Her father was a crotchety old fellow, with a ' theory,' one result of which was, that he let his trees and his daughter grow unp.vuned as they liked. But do not mistake Miss' Claudia, or think her any better or worse than she really was. Her caresses of the peasant boy looked as if she was republican in her principles and ' fast' in her maiiners. She was neither one nor the other. So far from being republican, she was the most ingrained little aristocrat thab ever lived ! -She was an aristocrat from the crown of her little, black, ringletted head to the sole of her tiny, gaitered foot; from her heart's core to her scarf-skin; so -perfect an aristocrat that she was quite unconscious of being so. For instance, she looked upon herself as very little lower than the angels ; and upon the working classes as very little higher than the brutes; if, in her bearb, she acknowledged that all in human shape xve.ro, human, that was about the utmost extent of her liberalism. She and they were both clay to be sure, but she was of the finest porcelain clay, and they of the coarsest potter's earth. This theory had not been taught her, it was born in her, and so entirely natural and sincere that she- was almost unconscious of its existence; certainly unsuspicious of its fallacy. Thus, you see, she caressed Ishmael, just exactly as she would have caressed her own Newfoundland dog; she defended his truth and honesty from false accusation, just as she would have defended Fidos from a similar charge; she praised his fidelity and courage just as she would have praised Fidos; for, in very truth, she rated the peasant boy nob one whit higher than the dog ! Had she been a degree less proud, had she looked upon Ishmael as a human being with like passions and emotions as her own, she might have been more reserved in her manner. But- being as proud as she was, she caressed* and protected the' noble peasant-boy as a kind-hearted little lady wouldhave carressed and protected a noble specimen of the canine race ! Therefore, what might have been considered forward and lowering in another young lady, •was perfectly graceful and dignified in Miss Merlin. But, meanwhile, the poor, earnest, enthusiastic boy ! Hz didn't know thab she rated him as low as any four-footed peb. He thought she appreciated him very hiehlv, too highly, as a human being ! And his great little heart burned and glowed with joy and gratitude ! And he would no more have taken pay for doing her uncle a service than he would have picked a pocket or robbed a hen-roost ! He jusfc adored her lovely clemency, and he was even then turning over in his mind the problem how he, a poor, poor boy, hardly able to afford himself a half-penny candle to read by afbor dark, could repay her kindness —what could he find, invent, or achieve to please her ? Of all this, Miss Claudia only understood his gratitude, and it pleased her as the gratitude of Fido might have done ! And she left his side for a moment, and raised herself on tiptoe and whispered to her uncle: ' Uncle, he is a noble fellow—isn't he, now ? But he loves me better than he does you. So let me give him something.' . Mr Middleton silently placed the five dollar piece in her hand. * ISO, no, no—not that ! Don't you see it hurts his feelings to offer him that V ' Well—but what then V '

♦I'll tell you: When we drove up to " Hamlin's,'' I saw him standing before the shop, with his hands in his pockets, staring at the books in tho windows, just as I have seen hungry children staie at the tarts and cakes in apastry cook's. And I know he is hungry for a book ! Now uncle, let me give him a book.' ' Yes; but had not / better give it to him, Claudia ?' • Oh, if you like, and he'll take it from you! But, you know, there's Fido now,, who sometimes gets contrary, and won't take anything from your hand, but no matter how contrary he is, will always take anything from mine. But you may try, uncle—you may try !' This conversation was carried on in a •whisper. When it was ended Mr Middleton turned to Ishmael, and said :

* Very well, my boy ; I can but respect your scruples. Follow ua back to Hamlin's.'

And so saying, he helped his wife and bis niece into the pony chaise, got in himself, and took the reins to drive on. Miss Claudia looked back and watched ishmael as he limped painfully after them. The distance'was very short, and they sooti peached the shop.

' Which is the wiudow he was looking in, Claudia?' inquired JYir Middleton. • This one on the left hand, uncle.'

' Ah! Come here, my boy ; look into thi3 window now, and tell mo which jof these books you would advise me ifo buy for a present to a young friend of mine V The poor fellow looked up with so much ; perplexity in his face at the idea of this grave middle-aged gentleman asking advice of him, bhat Mr Middleton hastened to explain : 'The reason I ask you, Ishmael, is because, you being a boy, would be a better judge of another boy's tastes than an old man like me could be. So now judge by yourself, and tell me which book you fihink would piease my young friend best. Look at them all, and tak a time.' 'Oh, yes, sir. Bufc I don't want time ! Anybody could tell in a minute which book a boy would like !' ' Which; then ?' 1 Oh, this ! this ! this !—" History of the , United States," all full of pictures 1' 'But—here is "Robinson Crusoe,I'and here is the " Arabian Nights;" why not choose them' ?' • Oh, no, sir—don't! They are about people that never lived, and things that arcn'b true; and though^ they are very interesting, I know, there is no solid satisfaction in them like there is in this—'

' Well, now, thiSi What is che great attraction of this to a boy ? Why, it's nothing but dry history,' said Mr Middleton, with an amused smile, while he tried to ' pump ' the poor lad. ♦Oh, sirj but there's so much in it! There's Captain John Smith, and Sir Walter Raleigh, and Jamestown, and Plymouth, and the Pilgrim Father?, and John Hancock, and Patrick Henry, and George Washington, and the Declaration of Independence, and Bunker's Hill, and Yorktown ! Oh!!' cried Ishmael, with an ardent burst of enthusiasm.

' You seem to know already a deal more of the history of oiir country than some of my first-class young gentlemen have taken the trouble to learn,' said Mr Middleton, in surprise 'Oh, no, I don'b, sir. I know no more than what I have read in a little thin book, no bigger than your hand, sir, thab was lent to me by the professor; but I know by that how much good there must be in this, ?ir.' 'Ah ! a taste of the diah has made you long for a feast.' • Sir ?' ' Nothing, my boy, bub that I shall follow your advice in the selection of a book,' said the gentleman, as he entered the shop. The lady and the little girl remained in bhe carriage, and Ishmael stood feasting his hungry eyes upon the books in the window. Presently the volume he admired so muGh disappeared. ' There ! I shall never see ib any more !' said Ishmael, with a sigh ; ' but I'm glad some boy is going to get it! Oh, won't he be happy to-night, though ! Wish it was I! No I don'b neither ; it's a sin to covet !'

And a few minutes after the gentleman emerged from the shop with an oblong packet in his hand. •It was the last copy he had left, my boy, and I have secured it! Now do yon really think my young friend will like it ?' asked Mr Middleton.

♦ Oh, sir, won't he though, neither !' exclaimed Ishmael, in sincere hearty sympathy with the prospective happiness of another.

' Well, then, my little friend must take it,' said Mr Middleton, offering the packet to Ishmael. ' Sir !' exclaimed the latter. * It is for you, my boy.' ' Oh, eir, I couldn't take it, indeed ! It is only another way of paying me for a common civility,' said Ishmael, shrinking from the gift, yet longing for the book.

'It is not; it is a testimonial of my regard for you, my boy ! Receive it as such.'

' I do nob deserve such a testimonial, and cannot receive it* sir,' persisted Ishmael.

4 There, uncle, I told you so !' exclaimed Claudia, springing from the carriage and taking the book from the hand of .Mr Middleton.

She went to the side of Ishmael, put her arms around his neck, drew his head down against here, leaned her bright cheek against his, and said : ' Come, now, take the book ; I know you want ib ; take it like a good boy; take it for my sake.' Still Ishmael hesitated a little. Then she raised the parcel and pressed it to her lips and handed it to him again, saying: ' There, now, you see I've kissed ib. Fido would take anything I kissed ; won't you ?' Ishmaei now held out his hands eagerly for the prize, took it and pressed it to his jacket, exclaiming awkwardly butearnestly:

' Thank you, miss ! Oh, thank you. a thousand, thousand times, miss ! You don't know how much I wanted this book and how glad I am !: ' Oh, yes, 1 do. I'm a witch, and know people's secret thoughts. But why didn't you take the book when uncle offered it ?' 'If you are a witch, miss, you can tell.' 'So I can ; it was because you don't love uncle as well as me ! Well, Fido doesn't either. But uncle is a nice man for all that.'

' I wonder who "Fido" is,' thought the poor boy. 'I do wonder who ho is; her brother, I suppose.' 1 Come, Claudia, my love, get into the carriage; we must go home,' said Mr Middleton, as he assisted his niece to her seat.

'I thank you very much, sir, for this beautiful book,' said Ishmael, going up to Mr Middleton and taking off his hat.

' You are very welcome, my boy ; so run home now and enjoy it,' replied the gentleman, as he sprang into the carriage and took the reins.

'"Run home!" how can he run home, uncle ? If he lives at the weaver's, it is four miles off ! How can he run ifc, or even walk it ? Don't you see how badly hurt he is ? Why, he could scarcely limp from tho pond to the shop ! I think it would bo only kind, uncle, to take him up be3ide you. We pass close by the hut, you know, in going home, and we cottld set him down.' ' Come along, then, my little fellow ! The young princess saya you are to ride home with us, and her highness' wishes are not to be disobeyed!' laughed' Mr Middleton, holding out his hand to help the boy into the carriage. lshmael made no objection to this proposal ; but eagerly clambered up to the offered seao beside the gentleman^ The reins -were moved, and they «et off at a spanking pace, and were soon bowling aiong the turnpike road that made a circuit through the forest toward Bfcudenell Heights. The sun had set, a fresh breeze^ had sprung up, and, as they were driving rapidly in the eye of the wind, there was scarcely opportunity for conversation. In little more than an hour they reached a point in the road within a few hundred yards of the weaver's hut. ' Here we are, my boy ! Now, do you think you can get home without help ?' inquired Mr Middleton, as he stopped the carriage. •'Oh, yes, ir, thank you!' replied lshmael, as he clambered down to the ground. He took off his hat beside the carriage, and making his best Sabbathschool bow, said :

* Good - evening, sir ; good - evening, madam and miss, and thank you very much.'

1 Good-evening:, my little man ; there get along homo with you out of the night air,' said Mr Middleton. Mrs Middleton ahd the little lady nodded and smiled their adieux.

And lshmael struck into tb© narrow and.

half bidden footpath that led from the highway to the hut. The carriage started on its way. ' A rather remarkable boy, that,' said Mr Middloton, as they drove along the foresb road encircling the crest of the hills towards Brudcnell Heights, thab moonlit, dewy evening ; 'a rather remarkable boy ! He has asi uncommonly fine head ! I should really like bo examine it! The intellectual and moral organs seem wonderfully developed. I really should like to examine it carefully ab my leisure.'

'He has a fine face, if it were not so pale and thin,' said Mrs Middleton. ' Poor, poor fellow,' said Claudia, in a tone of deep pity; 'he is thin and pale, isn't he ? And Fido is so fat and sleek ! I'm afraid he doesn't get enough to eat, uncle !' 1 Who, Fido f ' No, the other one, the boy ! I say I'm afraid he don't get enough to eat. Do you think he does ?' ' I—l'm afraid not, my dear !' ' Then I think it is a shame, uncle ! Rich people ought not to leb the poor, who depend upon them, starve ! Papa says that I am to come into my mamma's fortune as soon as lam eighteen. When I do, nobody in this world shall want. Everybody shall have -as much as ever they can eat three times a day. Won'b that be nice ?' 'Magnificenb, my little princess, if you can only carry out your ideas,' replied her uncle. ' Oh, but I will I I will, if it takes every dollar of my income ! My mamma told me that when I grew up I must be the mobher of the poor ! And doesn't a mother feed her children ?'

Middleton laughed. 1 And as for that poor boy on the hill, he shall have -Jbarbs and cheese cakes, and plum pudding, and roast turkey and new books every day; because I like him ; I like him so much ; I like him better than I do anything in the world except Fido 1' 'Well, my dear,' said Mr Middleton, seizing this opportunity of administering an admonition, ' like him as well as Fido, if you please ; bub do wobjKt him quite as freely as yon pet Fido.' 1 Bub I will, if i choose to ! Why shouldn't I?' inquired the young lady, erecbing her haughty little head.

' Because he is not a dog 1' dryly answered her uncle.

' Oh ! but he likes petting just as much as Fido ! He does indeed," uncle ; I assure you ! Oh, I'nobiced that.'

' Nevertheless, Miss Claudia, I must object in future to your making a pet of the poor boy, whether you or he like ib or nob.' 'But I will, if I choose !' persisted the little princess, throwing back her head and shaking all her ringlets.

Mr Middleton sighed, shook his head,and turned to hia wife, whispering, in a low tone :

' What are we to do with t-liia self-willed elf ? To carry out her father's ideas, and let her nature have unrestrained freedom to develop itself, will be to ruin her ! Unless she is controlled and guided, she is just the girl to grow up wild and eccentric, and end in running away with her own footman.'

These words were not intended for Miss Claudia's ears; but, notwithstanding, or rabher, because of thab, she heard every syllable, and immediately fired up, exclaiming :

• Who are you talking of marrying a footman ? me !me!me ! ! Do you think that I would ever marry anyone beneath me ? No, indeed ! I will live to be an old maid before I will marry anybody but a lord ! thab I am determined upon !'

' You will never reach that consummation of your hopes, my dear, by petting a peasant boy, even though you do look upon him as little better than a dog,' said Mr Middleto?!, as he drew up before the gates of Brudenell.

A servant was in atiendanoo to open them. And as the party were now ab homo, the conversation ceased for the present.

Claudia ran to exhibit her purchases. Her favourite, Fido, ran to meet her, barking wibh delight. (To be Continued on Saturday Next.)