A TRUE STORY. "DESTINY!"

Digger (Invercargill RSA), Issue 5, 16 April 1920, Page 2

A TRUE STORY. "DESTINY!"

As John Grant knocked at the door of the house where Nellie Shannon lived he experienced a sensation that was new to him. It was a feeling of fear. 1'iuture a squarely built man of twentynine, brisk, keen-eyed, and firm of jaw. A barris ter on the Scottish circuit, John Grant's f uture was assured. His . ability in his profession was well recognised' in iegal circles, and a prosperous and distinguished career lay open hefore him. In additio'n to good looks and perfect health, he was the fortunate possessor of consider'able private means. And now he was at the point of setting the keystone to a life of suoeess and happ.iness — marriage with a heautiful and charming girl. This aftemeon he was going to ask Nellie Shannon to he his wife. Of the reply he had little doubt. That she woukl refuse him was almost unthinkable. Already her father and mother had indicated onlv too clearly that they would welcome him as their son-in-law. \ Nellie was devoted to her parents. It was certain that she would accede to their wisbes. For she had shown her admiration of Grant. He was of the straight, cleanliving type that every woman trusts instinctively. Since she was a little child she had known and respected him. True, until latterly she had thought of him more in the light of a big brother than of a prospective husband. Yet he was an undeniable "catch." The attitude of her girl friends towards him showed that so very plainly. YTes, she respected him, admired him, genninely liked and trusted him. He would give her wealth, position, and all the. love and affection his strong and loya! character was capable of. And yet — The door of the solid and comfortable looking house opened, Grant was shown into the drawing-room, where he awaitea with mixed feeling the arrival of Nellie. This room, its furniture and arrangernent, were as familiar to him as his own home, for he had known the Shannons since he was a boy.. Strolling across to ihe window he gazed pensively out. So wrapped up in his thoughts did he become that he did not hear the door open and a girl enter the room. Nellie Shannon wss just eighteen. Of middle height, slirn and graceful, her pretty f ace and winsome manner had already wrought havoc with the hearts of a number of young men whom she had encountered. "Wake up, John!" At the sound of her voice Grant turnea quickly round. "I'm sorry, Nellie. I was miles away." How exciting! I'd love to know what your thoughts were. Is it any use offering a penny for them?" Grant hesitated. "You can hear them for nothing," he said slowly, "if you'd like to." They say down on the sofa side by side, and she glanced at him with a puzzled look in her expressive hlue eyes. For a moment Grant did not speak. Then, in level tones, he said : "I was thinking, Nellie, about you." Nellie smiled.

"Oh, what's the use of beating ahout the bush?" he continued, speaking more quickly. "You know — you must.know what I've come to say. We've known each other so long. Why, I rememher you, Nellie, since you were a wee kiddie. 1 I've watched you grow up, and waited patiently with only one thou^it. I've ' thrown myself into my .work for only one end !" Nellie rose quietly, and walked to a small table, where a large bowl of red roses lay. With slightly trembling hands she took out a blossom and idly fxngered it. The rays of the afternoon sun poured into the room through the open window. It was July, 1914. In the distance could be heard the hum of traffic and the shouting of newsboy. Grant stood up. "You know I love you very dearly, Nellie," he said. "Will you marry me?" Nellie looked down for a second at the rose she held before reply. Then she made as if to clear her throat. "Yes," she said quietly.

Grant walked across the room and tooL her hands in liis. At that moment the door opened, and a maid entered the room. "Mr Fenton!" announced the maid. A tall young man of twenty carne in. His eyes lit up as they fell upon Nellie. Then he saw Grant and paused for an instant, indecisive.

Nellie came between them. "Let me introduce you to Mr Grant, Dick," she said steadily, "to whom I've just become engaged." "Engaged?" There was 110 mistaking the note of surprise in Fenton's voice as he repeated the word. Grant watched tEe younger man closely. He noted that Fenton coloured and then became a trifle pale. Then the two men shook hands politely. Nellie loked a trifle anxious, and made some trivial remark about the weather. The situation was relieved by the entry into the room of Nellie's mother, and presently the four were taking tea together, But, half an hour latec, pleading an appointment, Grant made his escape. Nellie came into ihe hall with him whilst he got his hat and coat. "When are you coming again?" she asked. "Can I come to-morrow?" She nodded. He looked into her face, but the light in her eyes he sought was not there. He kissed her, and a moment later had left the house. As he walked along the street, passing soon into a busy thoroughfare amidstthe noise of twific, the picture of her serious, grave face excluded all othcr thoughts from his mind. Newsboys were shouting. Placards bearing the words : Great Britain's Ultimatum to Germany," were exhibited on every hand. But John Grant neither saw nor heard. All the while the same sentence rang again and again through his head. "She does not care for me." A shouting newsboy obstructed him. Mechanieally he bought a paper. II. Two years later Lieut. John Grant sat in a dug-out in the reserve line of trenches writing a letter. It was only a eouple of days since he haa come back from a brief leave to England. From the day of his engagement to Nellie much had liappened to him. On the outbreak of war he had enlisted in the ranks of a territorial regiment, and, after months of training, had been sent to France. When he had experienced a spell of active service he received his commission on the field in a famous Higliland regiment. Leave was scarce in those early days : his opportunities to see Nellie had been few and far between. But he had written regularly to her, and loyally she had written to him with the same regularity. Yet always he detected a restraint— a reserve in her attitude towards him. Out at the front, where night watches and tours of duty gave him frequent opportunity for quiet thinking, he had fac'ed the truth ruthlessljr, Nellie had promised to marry him, and would keep her pxomise if he held her to it, but he knew only too well that there was someone else to whom she had lost her heart. He more than suspected who this someone was. He knew. It was Dick Fenton. On his last leave Grant had asked after Fenton in an outwardly casual manner. The startled look that leapt to Nellie's eyes told its own stcry. Then he learnt that Fenton, too, was at the front. And so he left Nellie, with a smile on his face but a weight lying heavy on his heart. To-night he was writing to her. ~ Tomorrow — well, who could say what tomorrow would bring forth? In a few hours his company would move forward to the front line trench. At dawn they were timed to .go over the top. He glanced at his wrist-wJtch. Soon the company "runner" would coliect the letters. Like hiniself, the other officers and men were seizing the cliance to write a few lines to the ones they lov-

ed. For many of these were fated to be their last words home. "She doesn't care," thought Grant. "It's Fenton she loves. It's Fenton who can make her happy." A new line of thought occurred to him. "Supposing I'm hit to-morrow — mauled or maimed ? How can I , marry her then. Yet even that would be better if she really cared than marry without love." "It's no good, John Grant!" he said savagely to himself. "You must face facts. It was her people's wish that Nellie should marry me, never her own." Thereupon he tore up what he had written, and, taking a clean sheet of papei wrote to Nellie, breaking off their engagement.

A few mmutes to five next morning John. Grant with his platoon crawled out i from their trench and formed up on the ; "tape line" in No Man's Land. Then suddenly the darkness was vivid ; with fiashes, and the air rentby screaming shells. j The men scrambled to their feet, and slowly followed our barrage forward. I Soon the enemy's' guns began their re- ( ply. As he staggered fonvard through i the dust and smoke Jolin Grant was con- J scious of a sound like the harsh tearing ; of canvas — a spurt of flame, and the rush : of hot fumes. Then he remembered no more. III. The I. and A. liner Marotah had had an uneventful voyage -on the way out to Suez. She was bound for Bombay, and fortunately the weather in the Bay of Biscay had been exceptionally cairn. At Suez a few passengers disembarked, and one or two fresh ones came aboard. Amongst the latter was a queer little clergyman, with humped shoulders and white hair. His eyesight was evidently very poor, for he wore smoke-tinted spectacles — though these may have been partly to hide a livvd scar that marred the righthand side of his face. For the firsi few days he kept to his cabin, but later, when the Marotah was ploughing her way through the Indian Oceon, he showed himself more frequently on deck. Of course Mrs Drev soon found out ahout him. Mrs Drew was a garrulous widow of uncertain age with whom gossip was a mania. "His name's MacKenzie," she told every one, "and he's a missionary. He's very Scotch and rather quaint, but quite nice really." To do her justice, Mrs Drew gossiped to the minister in return, telling him' the history, as far as she had been able to discover it, of everyone on board. Vv'ho is the pretty young- lady with the elderiy friend?" he asked Mrs Drew one afternoon. "Oh, that's Miss Shannon — Nellie. Shannon," replied the latter. "The . older lady is her aunt, who's taking Nellie to her parents in India. Nellie's going to get married as soon as she arrives there. What's the matter?" The little clergyman had broken oui into a fit of coughing. "Nothing," he replied, "I suffer slightly from asthma, that's all." "When they get out there, Nellie Shannon is going to marry that tall young man over there— Mr Fenton." "Ah !" It Avas late afternoon, and a slight breeze was beginnmg to get up. On the

horizon a dark gathering of clouds looked rather ominous. The officer of the watch eyed the horizon uneasily. The locality through wliich they were passing possessed an unhealthy reputation for bad squalls. Gradually the swell increased, and the ship began to pitch and roll with incxeasing vigour. Soon the decks were deserted. Tlie passengers sought. the saloons or thei* cabins, By the time night fell the gale was blowing hard. A heavy sea was ruuning and, to make matters worse, a thunderstorm broke overhead. The liner was tossed about like a cork. Sleep was impossible. In their cabins the passengers clung to their bunks, badly scared. At midnight the thunderstorm abated, but the gale continued to blow with terrific violence. Suddenly a crash was heard. A tremendous shock shook the vessel from stem to stern. The captain, who remained on his bridge throughout the storm, was the first to grasp the truth. "Great heavens!" he cried "We've struck a derelict!" Almost at once the Marotah began to settle by the heacl. Below, amongst the passengers, a j>anw had set in. Struggling fuxiouslv, thej poured on deck. With terror outweighing all other considerations, they rushed blindly for tiie boats. Most of the deck-lights had been shat- 8 tered by the storm. In the darkness the confusion was appalling. Men and women fell to be trampled on and unable to rise. Presidently a.tremendous hissing drown* | ed all other sound. The engine'ers were ■ releasing the steam to prevent the boilers 1 from bursting. And all the while, despite closed bulk* heads, the head of the Marotah settled / lower, and her decks slanted steeper arl • steeper. Then the water submerged the dyna» I mos, the remaining lights went out. Dazed and half-unconscious Nellie Slian- I non felt herself lifted from her feet ar,d I carried along the deck. Soon she lost consciousness altogether. I Without knoAving it she had been strap ^ ped to one of the life-saving rafts cfl ■ the upper deck. The Marotah sank deeper. In the . darkness, at the . stern of tbi I vessel, a misshapen figure of a man with I a hunch-back calmly removed his smoUd ■ glasses, folded them in their ease,. I deliberately placed them in his hip- ■ pocket; Then he dived into the sea. H The next moment the Marotah ^ 1 1 downward, and the air was rendere ■ awful by the cries of the doomed. IV- • I It was day. The storm of the previo'1® ■ night had spent itself. Once more t 8 ^ I surface of the sea was restored to e * B hess, and the tropical sun beat doff fl from a cloudless sky. fl About the scene of last night s fl pieces of wreckage and driftvrood.fl°ae fl A few miles away from this spot, ^ ing evenly with the motion of the v- " - g was a small raft. fl Damaged and splin tered though i H this life-saving device had safely ^ fl ered the storm, and faithfully sene purpose. . fl Strapped to the raft about thetf ^ ^ were a girl and a man. Yet e (Continued on Page Four.},

DEST7IMY. Continued from Cage Two. )

also a third figure— a blackcoated figure who had Ken tlirown by Fate against this very raft to scramble upon it in. ihe darkness of the night. For fate is wont to fuay grim jokes at times — though we try to pretend that the workings of Destiny ave mere accidents by cajjing them coincidence. And so it was that Pastor MacKenzie found himself on a raft in mid-ocean with Nellie Shannon and Dick Fenton for cornpany. When the light of dawn had come, the clergyman had recovered from his pocket his inevitable smoked glasses, and had donned them to protect his eyes from the tropical sun. Presently the girl stirred slightly, and opened lier eyes. But- her consciousness was slow awakcning, and a long while passed bcfore she realised where she was and what had happened. An hour passed. In the afternoon both Neilie and Dick wero awake. The raft contained a small water-keg, and from this the t-wo drank greedily. MacKenzie looked on with anxions eyes. "We must take care of the water," he ventured mildly. "That's all we've got." "Vve shall be picked up soon ," said | Dick. "We're bound to be." "T hope so." "Is there any doubt about it?" asked Nellie. The clergyman shook his hcad dubiously' "I was only advising caution," he said, "in ca.se the storm had blown us off the usual shipping route." "I see," said Dick. "In that case we'd better ration the water straightaway. How much do you estimate we've got?" MacKenzie inspected the keg. "Two days* supply at the outside " He paused. "For two people, that is." "Well, there are three of us," sakl Nellie, her pale, drawn features relaxing momentarily into the ghost of a smile. "Yes," said MacKenzie thoughtfully. "If there were only two it would last a day longer." The evening passed slowly. Taking watches in turn, the three survivors scanned. the horizon about them for signs of a -ship. Then with tropical suddeness day gave way to night. With the darkness came lowered spirits and depression. Dick and Nellie sat close together on the raft, talking in low earnest tones with his protecting arm about her shoulders. MacKenzie kept somewhat aloof. "If we're not picked up by the day after to-morrow," said Dick presently, "we " He left the sentence unfinished. "Never mind, Dick," said Nellie !yDick squeezed her small liand reassur"You two are very fond of ca-cli other," came the voice of MacKenzie from the darkness. "We were to be married when we larided in India," said Dick. dearly, Miss Shannon?" "And you love this young man very "Dick is the only man I have ever loved — or ever could love," replied Nellie softly. • "Do you realise," said MacKenzie, "that I am a clergyman? I could marry you even liere if you wished it. So tah if anything were to happen, you can go to meet you Maker with the comfort of knowing you are man and wife." Thus it came about in the darkness, on a raft in mid-ocean, the marriage was solemnised between Dick Fenton and Nellie Shannon. Around them Ihe sea glowed phoshorescent ; above them the sky gleamed with a million jewels. The night drew on, and presently Nellie and Dcik fell into a dreamless sleep. But the hunchback clergyman did not sleep. He sat crouched up with his face between his hands. Then he took a small note-book from his pocket, extracted a pencil, and with slow, laborious care commenced to writc. For a. long while he write steadily till at last he had finished. Then, iearing the pages from the book, he carefully folded them, and jlter a moment's thought, slipped them underneath the raft-strap that was bucklcd about Nellie' s waist. He gazed for a few minutes at the stars then very quietly dived into the water. He swam sbme distance from ihe rafl with swift, vigorous strokes, never lujkin'g back. And thus he swam on and on, vutil ai last exhaustion over cairn. him. Then he ceased his efforts and sank; never to rise to the surface again. Soon after daybreak Dick awoke Over

coming the stiffness of his limbs, he rose to his feet. At o.nce he missed ihe clergyman. "Good heavens!" he exclaimed. "He must have fallen overboard in the night." But before Dick had time to realise the Ml meaning of his discovery, the smoke of a steamer on the horizon caught his eyeExcitedly he seized a stray piece of sailcloth from the raft, and began to wave it. "Nellie!" he cried, "we're saved. There' s a ship in sight. At the sound of Dick's voiee, Nellie opened her eyes. She unbuckled the strap about her waist. As she did so, her hand encountered a few folded sheets of paper. Wonderingly, slie unfolded them. "Dearest Nellie." the note ran, "I am scrawling this litt-Ie messago of good luck to you before I take my long farewell. "My oue thought through life has been of your welfare and happiness. That is why I realeased you from an engagement which I realised was the outcome of family pressure. and not from the true dictates of your heart. "I realised that you never rcally cared for me, but for Fenton. I realised that youth attract-s youth, and that you looked on me a.s a friend and not as a lover. "I thank Heaven I took that step, for the next day I was hit. "I lay for twenty-four hours before I was picked up, and was reported 'missing — believed killed.' "I expect you read this in the casualty iists. "After eighteen monthg in hospital, I was realeased — the broken man I now am. "My spine is permanently injured, and I my sight affeeted. My hair has tuxned quite white — I am but a shadow of what I formerly was. "Of course, in my prcfession I was a finished man. Fortunateiy the Chureh was open to me, and I became a missionary. "Iwill not weary you with the depressing details of my broken, shattered life. Suffice it to say that I have never ceased to love you with all my heart. " I have little more to say. What worldly beiongings I possess, dear, have long been assigned to you in my will. I pray Heaven that you will be picked up safely by a passing vessel, that you may live to enjoy the life of happiness I wish you. "Gcd bless you, dear. When I have finished writing this, I am going to give my useless, broken bcdy to the sea for good. "WTith every gcod wish for your lasting happiness, I am taking this last goodbye. From your devoted friend, John Grant." As Nellie was reading the last words of the letter, Dick called her excitedly. "Look, Nellie! They've seen us ! We re saved — saved !" But Nellie's eyes wero brimming with tears, and a dull pain tore her heart, for she knew she had lost something as precious as life itself— the love of a gallant gentlema-n. The End.