WILL HE WIN HER?

Manawatu Times, Volume IV, Issue 88, 10 November 1880, Page 3

WILL HE WIN HER?

.' |£JF JAW® GHRANT. ■;.-.• *'" '. — — ♦— — . j '••'"". Chapter L3CIII. ; . .*/W;e.iliall take you m th» flank, my fine fellow," said Gordon. A bench was placed against the external wall, an 4 bit this the two soldiers leaped Witt tKtir rifles, ' for the purpose of shooting at him through the little window of the cell but m his grasp he held between kimself and the. orifice the person of the corporal, of a shield so that it was impossible to kill one without killing the other, ' , Twenty fcimet the soldier «, conjointly or severally,. loveUed;tlieir cocked rifles and as often withdraw their aim, and each time they did so the groans of the bleedingJJcorporaL were heard, mingled with, the mocking laughter of the prisoner. So the day wore on, and a vast crowd assembled, attracted by the strangeness of the affair': and Van Fieukerque, to show he was" m earnest, further exasperated the soldiers' by giving the helpless corporal a severe wound with the bayonet, m, the. mere wantonness of cruelty oe rag*. " liisten to me, fellatf ," «aid Major Von Gordon, "or I shall hare the ioor battered down', and tk#ii ' TOU^ yriji be

" Saj on, herr major.'' " On whi*t terms, will you submit and release that unfortunate man?" { \ Ver-y simple terms kerr major," " Namo them nt onoe !" *' A brace of pistols lo&cUd by myself a hundred rix dollars m money, and to bo conveyed from tins to the first steamer boniid For England.*' *'• Absurd ! You are mad ! Such terms, even had I the power t« grant them, which 1 have not, are totally inadmissible," replied G-ordon., astop.is.hed by the man's effrontery. Then again Van Kieulrerque swore . his terrible oath that he would kill the corporal, who was already ginliig fast from losa of blood, if he was not himself slain. About one o'clock m the day one of the soldiers on the Bench without got a shot at him, as the head of the corporal whom he popped beforo him a« a human buckle, "ank upon his shoulder but Van Nieukerqao " ducked," and escaped the bullet which flattened out like a Urge silver stai% and dropped harmless on the pavement. [ Sl«dge-harainers were applied m vain to the door of the cell, which resounded under (heir blows like a vast dram. The barrier was narrow and composed of massive iron plate?, with a small aperture for ventilation ; and as it opened inwards, the billet or beams of wood extending between it and the the opposite wall secured it from all attempts at being forced. The entire day passed ; darkness, was setting m and the groans of the corporal had ceased though Van Nieulcerque kept pricking him now and then with the bayonet, to ascertain by the quivering of his limbs if yet lived. The sentinels had been changed as usual, the crowd stiU lingered m th adjacent street, and determined to see th 9 end of the affair Major Gordon slept at the guard house till dawn wimn he was informed that the prisoner, who complained bitterly of intense thirst, had offered to give up the corporal m exchange for a vessel filled with water, to be placed before the door, which he consented to open, provided Von Gordon would give his word of honor th,at the corridor should be cleared and that not a shot should b« fired at him through the window. Glad to save the life of the corporal tho> major gave the required promises. The sojdier placed a vessel filled with water, imm«diately outside the door and withdrew from the passage. Slowly and stealthily the desperado removed the billot of wood, opened the door, took m the vessel of water, and tossed out tho body of the corporal. It fell with a strange sound on the paved floor for the poor man was quite dead ! Van Nieuterqua then uttered a shout of defiance, reclosed the door, and secured it again, by a billet of wood. On finding that the corporal must have been dead some time, for already rigidity had set m, the justly exasperated major, took a rifle from one" of his soldiers, and levelling it through the window, of the cell, said to die occupant — " Villain, you have deceived me ! I gave you my word of honor for the lel«ase, of a living man, and Dot of a dead one; so thus receive tjhe. reward of your crimes ! ' Cowering m a heap, with, averted head and uplifted hands, an.d now thoroughly crushed Van j?ieukerque shrank into <l corner. The rifle rang, the report filled the place with a sound like thunder; an awful shriek followed, and when the smoke cleared away, Van Nieukerque, who bad bounded nearly to the ceiling fell flat on his face shot through the heart. So ended tills tragedy, by which, Clarice Haywood was freed from her tie to a iran who had thus met the just reward of his crimes ; and I own that the suddenness of the retribubution filled me with considerable surprise and pleasure. " Now, then, who is to break the intelligence to his widow P" said the major. CUric* a widow — how strangely it seemed ! " Will you, herr captain P" he added. " Thank you, major," said I ; "it will come better from, your lips than .mine." "Nay, nay. Herr Graves " . " "Well, then, Graves be it," and putting on my hat I sallied forth into the crowded streets, to think over what I .heard, and the probabilities of the future to. come. Chxptes LXIV. "Prepare yourself, my dear madame, to hear something of vast importance," b.agan ; the major, bowiug low, and holding his helmet by the spike. " T am.prep&red for anything," replied Clarice. " \Yha.fc can happen to.me now?" "I am so glad that you possess — " " Firmness, you woujd say major?" " Yes ; and 1 am glad to hear you all it so." " Whj ?" gaid Clarice, beginning to be amused by the major's, prolixity. "We meu are bo apt to stigmatize that quality m women as mere obstinacy." " But your news, major P You forget what you men allege to b» the dominant passion of my sex." Gently though Von Gordon broko the news to her, concealing t .c while whose hand had fired the retributive shot, the whole episode had a terrible effect upon her. She had undergone, so much that her health waa delicate, and the shock proved rai >er severe for her sensitive native. When Von Gordon concluded, her hands went to her heart as if a pang had shot through it. She shook as if ' ill with jungle fever. To the major it seemed as if the had suddenly become liuddled up on the sofa, a mere mass of shapeless blue silk and white lace, for she had fainted. White she looked as snow, and cold . a.s snow wei-e h«r face and hands. The worthy major was scared by all this, and rushed to the bell, wlzifth he rang with frantic violence. He could take the 7oth llegiitisnt into action coolly enough under fir* from a brigade of 16-pounders ; but a lady m a swoon terrified him. After this event I was dubious what line of of conduct' to adopt, and whether or not I should leave Hamburg ; but it seemed th« more prudent and. pleasant way to reinov« ! to another hotel", and absent myself for some days from th».

society of Clarice ; and J. had so much to do m reference to my own affairs that those days were fully occupied. I had long letters to write to Douglai and to Fanny, who were still at Datetcee Pen ( to. my Scotch agents* and, to, my bankers. Graves and I arranged with, Lauritz Balchen for the funeral of Van Nieukerque, who by a. strange channe or freak of destiny was buried m the very grave wherein he had deposited the coffin filled with stones and rubbish, but the monumental tombstone-had been removed and broken by tho order of the syndic. " Four days after this I visited Clarice ; and from that time, a» if by silent but tacit consent, tho name of Van Nieukerque was committed ta oblivion by us both. " Pour days — four whole days — and you have not been to see me," said Clarice, almost pouting, though she was sad and pale. " I have had so much to do, Clarice consequent to our own affairs," said I apologetically, while seating, myself by her side, and taking her hand caressingly m, mine. "I am not ashamed to own that the time passes, most wearily when I do see you." " Thanks for the dear admission, Oarice." \ <-' You are the only friend I have ; and \ heaven knows how I missed it m that sad time— the past times of our separation—when 1 thought it would never delight me more." "I should have been sooner- here, Clarice; but consider, dear, one, hojf you are situated, and that eaujtipn. is ne-_ cessary as much— nay, inuch,more— for your sake than mine." "I know that; but ever with m my heart and thoughts, there are timos when. I forget everything past and pre. sent m the desire to hear your voice andjlook into yourVyes, Dick." I pressed- her hand to my lips. " How can, I (hank you, Clarice, for such vords as these ? But still we must dissemble for a time. Hence tny reason for leaving the hotel. Consider how terribly a woman is left to bear the brunt of (he world's bitter opinion, and the blame for loving one she should not be supposed to love, though we cannot always control our hearts." "I am but a recent widow, true ; and the world is consorious even m Hamburg." "But shall not such fears and prudence be things of the past, with us erelong, Clarice ? When I look on you as all my own again, when I hear your voice, see your eyes bent on mine, and have m mine your dear little hands all my first, all my only, Jove return*, fuller m foree — if, indeed, it ever left my heart." " I should not listen to all this yet perhaps," said she, and paused? as she glanced down at the black dress, with its deep orape flounce — too, deep, for the occasion — furnished for her by some fashionable milliner m the Alster Arcade, and then looking at me with a divine smile, which conveyed a world of meaning — love, and trust and gi'atihide. On this T kissed again the hand that wan one day to be mine. During the few months that elapsed after this, and indeed while we remained m Hamburg, Clarice occupied rooms at the Europe, while Graves and T resided at tho Kronprinzen, but from the windows of our rooms we could still sco each other and blow kisses across the way, lika the boy and girl lovers we were once. A widow now, she was at liberty to livs where she ohnse, and the idea of residing with a private family was abandoned. We lingered on m Hamburg pleasanttly after this, having no object m view but to pas* the time until we could make oar final arraangementg, and all these emild be done with greater celerity and less remark than if we had been under the same peculiar circumstances at home m Britain. Two nieces of Von Gordon, who came from Berlin — pleasant and accomplished girls — added to the happiness of our little circle, and we planned and carried out many a delightful trip along the banks of the Elbe into. Holstein and Hanover, and sometimes by steamer as far as Cuxhaven, where the rianoverian fleet, consisting of one ship, was wont to levy the State dues. " Do Hove you rationally, or passionately, or both P" said I when sitting with Clarice m a han-gome pleasure skiff, m which I had rowed her out into the Alster Lake, where we had floated lazily and drowsily under the gorgeous sunset of a March evening when, the spires of Hamburg were half hidden m golden haae, and CLarice, with her face wreathed m soft and happy smiles, was playing with the ripples m, which her fingers dipped. " How should I know, Dick, m what fashion you love me ?" said she, colouring, as the wind blew aside her veil. " But whence this casuistry P" " Because I often ask myself the question," said I, pausing, with the sculls resting on my knees, and looking tenderly into her brown eyes ; " for the love of you has became a part of myself incorporated into my very existence. It has been said that no woman should ever lot a man know the extent of her love for him, as men only presume upon the soft admission and become tyrants ; but I think, Clarice, you find me gentle and timid still." "" " But we are not ordinary, or every day lovers, Dick, and as you have loved me, and as you do love me, will you. continue, to do so as long as you live?" ' " Can. you^ doubt it P" I exclaimed. " No." And then she fell on my neck, with a kiss that anded m a sob. " It is a terrible question when considered," she., added ; but a ring is the emblem. q%; eternity — without end." " Well darling, the sooner all this is over, the better, L have made every preparation to quit Hamburg at an hour's notice — without beat of drum, as we used to say m the Fusiliers. And Clarice," 1 added, mj. voice sinking to a.. ■whisper, though there was not a human ear within a mile of us. l * I love you so deeply aud tenderly that I have a. terror of tampering longer with fate, a, V.ague dread of I know not what.'' " Most true. We have undergone so much." " Well," I resumed, while bar little face lay nestled caressingly 'cJp»o iu..*»y,

neck, ** tUis is the eighth — shall we say the sixteenth of this month ?'* ' A The sixteenth !" said she, growing first red *nd then pale. "So be it, Dick." "All right, darling? Bless you .for the words. To-night I shall see the herr pastor o£ St. Michael's about it." That same evening the mail from Ostend brought us, pleasant news from home. Letters from, my agents m Scotland, whither I had long since transmitted the confession of Mark Sharkeigli, informed me that thera was now no occasion to produce such a doubtful document m court,, though singular to say it tallied exactly with, a similar revelation duly and legally signed and witnessed — a confession made by Mrs Prudence Grubb, poured into the startled ears of Messrs. Flewker of Church Walcot, and Benjamin Boreham of the Tabernacle. She divulged the whole plot on her deathbed, and acknowledged that her alleged bantling was the child of Sharkeigh's sister, a. fcipsy vagrant. That night Graves, the- major,, and' I had a deep carouse as a libation on my good fortune, and seven days after that we all dined merrily together and, clinked our glasses for the last time with,the old Scoto- Prussian major — no^rI am happy to say, general — Genera Helmuthe von Gordon. 1 We were all to separate, for next day Graves was going to Paris the 75th were to march to Berlin or Spandau, and I was to be married. " Folks do sometimes take the wrong person, become widows and widower, and then meet their old loves and get married, and end their days happily •together after all, says the author of '• John Halifax," and so it was with us. : Then, as we knelt down, a great hush seemed to fall upon all the curious observers around i whom, our story had attractedj aiixl who filled the vast brick i edifice — a bush, tha,t w.a* broken only by the voices of ths. pastor and his clerk o^the clajig of the. bell overhead, the ringers, haying been paid to. be joyous on this occasion. Among the admiring crowd were Ulrik and Gretchen Rosing m their Sunday attire ; and there, too, were Lauritz Bnlchen and all the Rieten Diener, m their full but fantastic official costume, with sword, and ruff, and cloak ,_ for, as I have mentioned' elsewhere, they superintended— if paid for — the happiest as well as the most melancholy sceneof life. The solemn words that bound' us together till death should part vs — that made. u.s one bsfore heaven — were spoken, the organ gushed forth a joyous anthem, and m fifteen minutes, more or test, all was signed and over, and| our carriage, with closed blinds, was tearing through the streets of Hamburg. " There are some families," says a writer, "m whom an attachment to locality appears as strongly marked ai m some animals, as there are others whose only pleasure seems to consist m constantly roving about the woi'ld." I had saved enough and to spare, and must own to haying what King James VI. called " a salmoalika in«tincr," to return home to Kaddonrig ; and so now, as I write, these closing lines, I can see f ron?.. the window of my old paternal dwelling the sunset lingering on the peska of the Cheviotfc, the. blue Teviot winding past the woodland slopes of Roxburgh to. mingle with the Tweed and pretty K&lso, with the towers of ils stately abbey of the Blessed Virgin, and St John glowing redly m the summer evening haza. On the English aid® of those dear Cheviot Hills, Gerard Douglas, now a colonel on the retired list, resides within a pleasant ride of us, m old' Walcot Tower, which he has rented on a long lease from the thriftless herr of entail who has been making " ducks and drakes," of his property. Tho present — m time that waking dream of the future — which came over me on that most eventful evening m the garden of von Bommel's hou.se far, far away, by the tributory of Keiskamraa River, when m fancy I saw Clarice Haywood enshrined m my home at Haddonrig, and heard the gladsome voices of our children mingling wiih the pleasant mirth of the old ancestral trees and the murmur of the of the Teviot, has been realised, for there at this moment are a hazel-eyed Clarice, a golden haired Dick, and a chubby darling pet e-alled Habbie, after old Uncle Halbert playing happily amid the alternate shade and sunshine of the old oak avenue. THE END.