|Chapter Number||XXIV NIGHT THOUGHTS|
|Chapter Title||NIGHT THOUGHTS.|
|Newspaper Title||The Queenslander (Brisbane, Qld. : 1866 - 1939)|
|Trove Title||The Hermit Convict|
THE HERMIT CONVICT.
CHAPTER XXIV. NIGHT THOUGHTS.
BY THE REV. WILLIAM DRAPER.
JUDD no sconer entered his old home than he divested himself of his wet garments, and hanging
them on some pegs which he had put in the wall for this purpose long before, he accepted
Stewart's offer of the blanket which he had reserved for his own use, upon the assurance that he could not sleep, and intended to watch. "I will watch," said he, in a whisper. " Fear not. You are excited—lie down, sleep will restore you." The silence of night now reigned supreme. It was just before midnight, strange, mystical period, when the air seemed to grow colder, and the watcher gathers up his mantle closer. In spite of all the religious philosophy which one can practice, the only aid which it brings to us is profound reverence. " When thou wast under the fig-tree, I saw thee." Did this mean that He merely cast a look on Nathaniel to see what he was about ? By no means. He was there as truly as He was visibly breaking bread at Emmaus. Now turn the thoughts to the Joseph of Arimathea tomb. One was gazing into it with glistening eyes, the fullest of heart sorrows welling up in the most profound density of overwhelming grief. Did it want the two or three then to insure the presence of the Great God with us ? No ; He withheld even the footfall of a step from the notice of the suffering, loving, holy minded saint, to say first of all, " Woman, why weepest thou ?" In the same way, in the whisper of the evening zephyr, or the deep sonorous lessons of the hurricane, or in the mysterious silence of midnight, He draws near to us. Often have we sung, in feelings of rapture, in Mendelsohn's wonderful Elijah, " And in that still voice onward came the Lord," and felt it too. People may call it enthusiasm, but music is a heaven born art, and the power, the influence which it exerts is not to be weighed or measured. God came near to the prophets of old, as they, with harp accompaniment, sought Him ; and James Stewart in the stillness of the supernatural music of the midnight in Hermit Glen, felt His presence. He covered his face with his bands—these were his mantle —and thought. Into the thoughts an angel poured some reflections about the past, promises about the future, and assurances that all was working for good. Yes, it was so ; if any dispute it, give the proof on the reverse side. " Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to minister to them who are heirs of salvation?" What do hey do in this ministry ? Look on, walk around us, merely witness our actions ? No, no, they are not dummies, but realities. Ask the young man whose head is bowed down in thought in that rough cavern, and he would tell you that life would have been all but insupport- able to him on account of the horrors he had endured, had it not been for this sacred influence which seemed to be constantly present to com- fort him. But what a confusion of images, real living personages, passed before him as he gave the rein to his thoughts. They came as shadows, but each one bore with it a living fact, which they dropped in the treasury of his recollections. Again and again these mementos dazzled or per- plex him in turn, as they appeared grievous or joyous. His class in the Sunday-school at Southampton, ah! this sent a thrill of joy through his sole, as he thought of some from whom he had heard, who were walking in the ways of truth. The poor stricken creature be- fore him, the author of all his misery, this subject was too painful for him. He thought, and the silence grew more intensely monotonous, until a alight sound which escaped from one of the sleepers aroused him to a listening position. For a moment he knew not who it, was who was speaking, for it was talking in sleep that he heard, but soon found that it was Judd who had fallen into a deep sleep. He could not distinguish what he said, but as he watched and listened very intently, he saw evident signs that one of the others was on the point of waking, and in a minute afterwards Argyle raised him- self on his elbow, looking at his comrade with somewhat of a perplexed countenance. The moon was shining brightly into the cave exactly where Stewart sat upon the ground leaning against one of the door posts, bringing him into the strongest possible relief with the light and shade. " What is up ?" said Argyle. " Hush!" replied Stewart, pointing to the old man, who lay apart from the others. ' Turning his head in the direction indicated, Argyle peered into the semi-darkness but could make out nothing in particular which warranted such caution, so again he spoke: " What is it, James?" Stewart beckoned to him in reply, and walking outside the hut Argyle followed. " There is some one lying where I pointed, David, he came in after you were asleep, wet and weary. He is the man who made this place and lived here." "Ah! What kind of a monster is he ?" " Not a Caliban exactly, although he looked nearly as wild and haggard as many likenesses of that celebrated character which I have seen." " What did he say ?" "He asked what we were doing here. I told him we were travellers, and the storm had compelled us to make use of the first shelter we could reach." " But who can the fellow be who lived such a hermit life in this wild place ?" said Argyle. They both spoke in a low whispering tone of voice, and Stewart replied, " The man is a shepherd, and is driving some sheep up to Burnham." " Driving sheep ? A pretty shepherd to leave them to shift for themselves." "So I thought, but I fancy he is ill; he was terribly excited, wet to the skin, and I do not think he knows much about sheep driving." "I should think there will be precious few left in the morning," said Argyle. "Is he asleep sound enough to let a fellow look at him?" "No; don't do that," said Stewart, laying his hand on the shoulder of the other, " don't disturb him." Argyle looked steadily at the speaker as if he would read some explanation of his agitated manner, but he could not solve it. The intense silence, unbroken by any sound, except the hard breathing of the sleepers and the continued muttering of Judd, seemed to startle Argyle, for he kept turning round as if to catch the words which the sleeper uttered, and now the scene and the incidents attending it became exciting to both the young men. A strange, undefinable sort of mysticism hung like a cloud around their existence at this moment. The air
was still also, and they both shivered. It was the set time for the revelation. Contact with anything imaginary or unseen will produce its corresponding influence. Hamlet, on the ramparts at Elsinore, says, " The air bites shrewdly, it is very cold," and terror, in its degrees of vehemence, chills the blood, strikes dumb the spirit, makes cowards of us all. Argyle felt this as Stewart laid his hands on his shoulders, looking keenly into his face saying. " The man in there is known to both of us." " Judd, then, by Heaven!" replied Argyle." " You are right, my friend, but do not agitate yourself." "James Stewart," said Argyle, with some vehemence, " I have sworn to deliver that man up to justice if ever I met him again in this world." " And I have passed my word that he shall be unmolested so long as he is in my sight." " James, that promise is not binding on me at least." " No, David; but respect for my word must leave him free according to my promise. I demand, nay, forgive me, I entreat this at your hand." "It matters little," said Argyle, in a discontented tone; "as soon as he leaves, these hands shall try to arrest him." " Why, my dear friend, why should you bear revenge so keenly upon your spirit ? The man's crimes have been deeply punished, depend on it. See this desolate home! he tells me that here he has lived for nearly ten years. Surely the fire of vengeance will be suffered to burn out some where." "Not till its victim is consumed," replied Argyle. " This man's crimes need a hundred pursuing feet to bail him up, if it were only to hear the word of confession from his lips, why and how he did those accursed things. I think you are wrong, James, in your notions. It is compromising felony." " Have you read the parable of the unmerciful servant, David ? He had nothing to pay, and his lord freely forgave him; but he went and took another by the throat, and persecuted him with vengeance. What did the Saviour say about him ?" "Very true; but then, according to this reasoning, courts of justice must be altogether unnecessary and prisons places of unjust torture." " No, no, for even by the direction of Scripture we are to count some as heathens and infidels, if they persistently refuse to hear us." " Where can you find a wretch -" " Don't use strong epithets, David." "I cannot help it, James," replied Argyle, " the villain first of all ruined you—nay, give me leave to go on—he did not look ahead and say, I am helping James Stewart to a fortune, and a happy free, and honorable life. No ; he only saw in the future, James Stewart a convicted felon, whom no one would look upon, no-one would receive, none would take by the hand; in short, he conspired to work out your destruction. Hear me, if you had met your death in the ship which brought you here, reeking as it was with the worst of fevers, what could have compensated for that?" " Eternal glory, I hope, David!" " Ah! yes, and I admire your consistent belief in these things; but I hold that a man's life thus shortened by another's act, is actually cut off—well, murdered—so I regard it." " Yet it is the will of God," replied Stewart, with a very quiet, subdued voice. " I reason by law and justice," said Argyle. " And if we are all to be judged by law and justice," replied Stewart, " where would any of as be?" "Men, wiser than I am," replied Argyle, "have instituted courts of justice, as I know to my cost. This fellow, by bis villainous treachery, is a perjured hypocrite, an abominable forger, a cruel murderer, and you are his advocate. I cannot say that I admire your policy." " Oh! do bear with me, David, I entreat you. I do not defend the man, but if you had seen him as he knelt and said ' Amen,' and wept and groaned about his past life, you must have been moved. I could not lay a hand on him for any reward, or desire to avenge the past." " I have not a doubt that he is sorry," replied Argyle. " Judas was sorry and wept, I doubt not, and tore his hair and cast the money down, beseeching the old bloodthirsty priests and rulers to undo what his greediness led him to do at their desire. But it was too late, and, bye the bye, you forget that even our Lord has said about some, * the door was shut.' In other words, their hope of happiness was gone, they were too late." " This is trespassing on the sacred prerogative of One who is the Judge of aIl. We cannot pretend to discern as He can. He can never be wrong, but we do err, and frequently." " We shall never agree apon such nice definitions as these said Argyle. " I say the man is worthy of death, and if these hands ----- " " Can do what, young man ?" The voice was that of the man of whom he was speaking. With the rug thrown over his shoulders, he stood within a yard of David Argyle, the three convicts met in a triangle. Breathless, for a moment they gazed on each other, neither attempting to move; but Stewart stepping forward as if to stand between the other two the act was understood by each, for Argyle angrily cried out, " James Stewart, I will have no interference now!" " Nor is there any need, Mr. Stewart," replied Judd, " I have heard the most of your conversation with this man, and know now what I have to expect. I absolve you from the promise you made to me. If I am to be a marked villain as Mister Argyle says, let it be so. I give you both the, chance; you go your way and I will go mine; if not, let it be war to the knife.'* " War to the knife, you desperate rascal," shouted Argyle. " Why did you not say, war with the knob of a riding whip ?" He rushed upon Judd as he spoke. The blanket fell from the old man, and his hands grasped the bare shoulder, for Judd was now completely naked. By this time all the sleepers were aroused, and the confusion was indescribable. Both Judd and Argyle fell violently to the ground, the former being underneath the powerful grasp of the young squatter, who was trying to untie his cravat handkerchief in order to bind the hands of his opponent, while Stewart was calling to the men to release Judd from his grasp. None of the men, however, knew what to do; they did not understand the affair; at last Stewart laid his hand on Argyle, which, causing the latter to turn sharply round, Judd seized the opportunity, and with a tremendous effort he actually threw his opponent off from him with such force that before a hand could be stretched out to save him he fell over the rocky platform on which the scene had occurred, and, rolling from stone to stone, from point to point, with a cry of horror Stewart saw his friend drop from the last projecting stone into the rushing stream, which
was roaring with the might of tempest waters through the glen. It was all the work of a moment, but in the same instant Judd sprang up, and merely shouting, " You that can, follow me," rushed down the chasm by a way known only to himself, and leaping from ledge to ledge, where it seemed no one could possibly stand, the frightened men who still stood on the cliff saw him plunge into the boilng stream, and in a minute or two after his voice was heard, now some distance down the glen, shouting for assistance. Stewart was perfectly paralysed, he knew not what to do, nor did either of the men seem as if they could stir a step. In fact, it appeared impossible for anyone to follow Judd with the slightest chance of life. In this interval of terrible suspense, the shoutings still ringing in their ears, Black Bill, looking up into his master's face, cried out, "Sich a faithful dog, massa," and instantly bounded over the precipice. They watched him as his natural instinct led him to take the most direct route to the place where the shouting was now most vehement. It was trying in the extreme to stand and hear the cries, none daring to more; the noise which the raging waters made as they rolled along with a force which nothing could resist was enough to appal the stoutest heart. At last one of the men managed to get down upon a large ledge of rock, which was fully six feet below the platform on which the rest stood, and, assisted by Stewart and the rest, another followed. It was almost impossible to stand anywhere the stones were so loose and exceedingly slippery,, but still on they managed safely to go. They had nearly reached the torrent when a louder cry, which they all knew to be Black Bill's cooey, raised the hope that Argyle had been rescued, and in another minute this was confirmed by a still louder shout, " Hear, hear, sich a faithful dog, massa. I got massa David." The two men answered with a shout, and with almost incredible exertions, with numberless falls and not a few bruises, they crawled along the sides of the glen, directed by the continued cooey of Black Bill. To this they kept replying, but fully five minutes must have passed ere they reached the spot where he stood. Apart from the associations of the moment, the spectacle which the men gazed upon created mingled feelings of admiration and terror. From the mountain side the waters rushed down in a number of streams, which, uniting at last in one, presented the appearance of a boiling cauldron, which formed a hundred little whirlpools. The bed of the torrent here varied incessantly : now as a broad river, then it narrowed into a channel of a couple of yards or so, and here it waged incessant warfare with stones and logs, groaning and roaring as if a part of its mission wm to remove obstacles by terror; but in one place two immense stones had fallen into the bottom of the glen; they were fully five feet in depth, and nearly ten in length, and tolerably flat upon the top. Both these stones had fallen so as to form a natural breakwater, with only about eight inches of space between them. The waters in a moderate rain ran quietly through this gap, but when a storm swelled the stream to a raging torrent they could not be carried off in sufficient volume by this outlet. Then a nfjfeof water accumulated on the other side until it flowed over the tops of the two stones, and fell in a cataract on the other side. In the centre of the stones the rush of water through the gap was than tremendous, and this being precipitated far beyond the face of the stones, met the water as it descended from the top, and a beautiful spectacle was the result But just above the same spot another watercourse poured a considerable volume into the glen, and this meeting the other stream, seemed to dash it back against the water which fell over the stones and thus the spectacle was increased in interest It was here that David Argyle was rescued. Much injured he fell into the stream, but managed to catch some branches of shrubs and trees, by which he was supported for a while. He knew not how he did it, so he said afterwards, but he seemed to float along, still holding something which supported him. It was in reality one of those long vines which are found growing in scrubs which he had snatched as he fell. Onward he rolled and floated for a dozen yards or so, when he found a footing on a sunken log; but from this he was soon washed; and then he recollected that he was dashed against some hard substance and became unconscious. It was then that Judd, swimming—and none could swim better than he—caught the all but lost David Argyle. . Unencumbered with clothes he seized him with one arm, while he held on to the rock with the other, and with almost supernatural strength he lifted him up to the top of one of these flat stones, to which reference has been made. Fortunately, the torrent had somewhat abated and the water over these rocks was not more than a foot in depth. Judd easily reached the spot, and instantly took the insensible man in his arms. There did not appear to be any life left in him. It was a terrible position to be in, for it was impossible to get away from the place without going backwards or forwards. The sides of the glen here were precipitous for at least ten feet, and, reaching the top of this place, Black Bill first discovered the two men in the position which has been described. The blackfellow, with his usual keenness, took in the whole position at a glance, and putting a question to Judd about the easiest way of getting down into the stream, he disappeared with a shout. This was the first that Stewart heard. In less than two minutes he had reaohed the place which Judd had indicated.. Now he must face the stream or his help would be useless. Throwing off his coat, shirt, and hat, and hastily too—"It was done in a jiffy," so he said, and he spoke correctly—and then shouting " Sich a faithful dog, massa," the good fellow faced the torrent. More than once he lost his footing, and when he reached the rocks the water was so violent he knew not how to face it. But Black Bill was a splendid climber and he scrambled up the side of the glen where it was less steep, laying hold of some roots which presented themselves most invitingly in his way, and thus reached a place where he could stand firmly. " Now give me massa," said he, " I hold him while you get down there; then you take him, and we carry him up." It was a hard struggle for the noble lad to hold the stout burly frame of the insensible man, but he did it, every limb quivering with the exertion. Judd had little difficulty in getting down from his rocky platform, and receiving Argyll from Black Bill he carried him to the place where the two men relieved him of the burden, and, aided by the black boy, they bore him slowly up the sides of the glen. Argyle was rescued from death, and by the aid of stimulants and the warmth of the fire he soon revived and opened bis eyes. He was terribly injured one arm was broken, and there was a fearful gash over his temple. But where was his deliverer? One was by his side anxiously looking on, but the other was gone. "Vanished,"
Black Bill said; "gone to Jericho. He must have come from there. Jerusalem! he's rum un." Chaftbk XXVI. A* BVBrnrO AT THE KIHIBTXB'B HOUU. Sons people shake their head at the idea of a parson's toiree ; " too stiff and religious,*' they say. The objection does no particular credit to the critio, but in practice is such a gathering open to such a charge ? If anything is wrong or open to objection in a minister's house, it is not to be suffered in any other re spectable family. Why should a minister of re ligion be debarred, because he sustains such an office, from the common enjoyments of life? It will be answered, "Love not the world, neither the things of the world." Sight; bat these words mean that you are not to set your heart upon them. To love a wife and children is lawful, right, holy, and reasonable. To love them above the Creator is idolatry. A social party at the Sev. Edward Coles' house-might have been open to severe criticism by mere cavillers; but he had no misgivings about any thing which was done there. Let us look in at the already announced tea party on a small scale. It is summer, so all the windows and doors are open. Two doors in the parlor lead oat upon the verandah, which runs round the whole house. Before this verandah is* a gravelled carriage road, and in front of this a lawn, with sundry flower beds. The cottage has four rooms and a kitchen. It U-furnisheel with some degree of comfort; and at the back there is a kitchen garden and a paddock. Fruit trees of all kinds are here and there, without any par ticular regard to design or order. Such, in a few words, is the description of this neat little residence. Mrs. Gumby was pleased with it, which was ample testimony in favor of the place. At S o'olock the whole party was assembled— Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair, Mr. and Mrs. Gumby, the two young ladies, and Mr. Brown. Mrs. Gumby was duly installed in a mo«t capacious " come-acd-love-me " easy chair ; Mrs. Sinclair in a less pretending one, on the opposite side of the room; Mr. Sinclair and the Bey. Edward Coles were chatting on the verandah ; and the young ladies were operating upon the risible faculties of Mr. Brown. At least one of them was, and he, nothing loath, was firing away by a complimentary return of merry jokes. But tea is preparing all the while, and punctu ally at five minutes past 6it is ready. A bless ing is asked: why should it ever be omitted ? Suppose the blessing of the health and life Giver should be withheld, what a calamity would ensue ! The creature is about to partake of the Creator's mercies; it is only meet and proper to seek His good will, so that the food may be assimilated to our particular need. The hospitality of the host was then shown to all, and that they enjoyed it there was abundant proof. "Do not spare, Mrs. Gumby. Make yourself quite at home. We are plain folks np in this part of the country. Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair; of coarse I mean your humble servant.'' "Do not mention it, my dear air," said Mr. Sinclair. "We at The Vineyard delight in homely comfort, without any ostentation. JEvery one i§ heartily welcome; that it oar rule." " And a regular jolly .good rule," chimed in Mr. Brown. "I like order, neatness, and that sort of thing; bat as for mare show, give me reality—that's what I say." " I never wn more oomfortable in my life, Mr. Coles," said Mrs. Gumby. " This ii very nice indeed." "lam so glad,"said Mrs. Sinclair. "I have no doubt that you will be very happy after a while. All of us have had to suffer inconveni ence at first, and if people can do that without feeling it very much, it is a sign that they may prosper." " I have not the least doubt of it," Mid Mr. Gumby. "At for me, I like the country very welL" " And how do the young ladies agree with these opinions P" said Mr. Coles. ' Miss Julia said she perfectly agreed, and Miss Lottie declared it was the most jolly free life she had ever known. " If' Miss Tomlinson and the other girl, whatever her name was, were only regular bricks, wouldn't they put some life into the people." Of course this sent all the com pany into a laughing humor. Mrs. Gumby, however, held up her finger, and said, "Fie, Lottie!" "So we will, mamma, and behave like good girls into the bargain. I am sure Mr. Coles does not wish to see us with' half a yard of dropsy hanging from each eye, and a bib ander our chins to oaten the melancholy." " No, no, Miss Lottie; Ido not believe that the religion of the Bible enjoins any such thing. Be as happy as possible, but be wise with the enjoyment of such things as ye have." " Yes, but Mr. Coles, who is to be the judge about these things P" said Mrs. Sinclair. " Some pavple would make very bad judges of their conscience." t " Not if they read the Bible with an earnest desire to be guided by its sacred light of truth." "Perhaps not* But suppose they are not readers of the Scriptures ?" " Then, my dear madam, they most most as suredly make sad mistakes. Now, as a proof of what I feel on this question, you shall this evening enjoy yourself to your heart's content, and then we will ask God's blessing upon it be fore we retire to oar rest. My rule is this— whatever I can ask God to bless I cannot regard as sinfuL In fact, my lips would refuse to utter a petition which my heart could not unite in." . " Just my creed exactly," said Mr. Brown. " As I says to my youngsters, ' Now, you boys and girls, do what is right, and you won't be ashamed.' We lifted op this flag years ago, and when any on 'em falls into the wrong ditch, we haul 'em out, and says to 'em, ' That is not following the family track;' and we all unite in singing our hymn, which you have heard, Mr. Coles, many a time. It begins— " Do the right, brother, do the right" "I have heard it,.neighbor Brown; and I know how well yon have managed to lead your family, and how God has blessed you." " Yes, tolerably well, for that. We all lay hold of the wheel, and, even though the dray does stick fast, we axes the help of Providence, and give a tremendous lift ourselves, and out it comes, and on we go again." " Well done," shouted Mr. Gumby. " But now music was proposed, and while the tea was cleared the music portfolio was delibe rately inspected; but of course the ladies " could not play," and severe colds had deprived them of all control over their voioes as they could wish. Some one ought to invent a social warming-up machine, to ensure enjoyments at the commencement of a meeting of guests. Very frequently the overture is an exhibition of starched politeness, during which no one has the power to sing, play, or make themselves in the lout sociable. The heating process then
begins to operate, and the starch gives way; chain begin to find an attractive influence, by which their occupant* are able to approach within confidential quarters with Mr. or Mrs. So-and'So. The notes of ma sic, accidentally or casually struck, send the heating process a few degrees higher, and forthwith the steam begins to hum ; now it sounds louder and louder, and on it progresses, until the whole party are at the boiling point. All unnecessary reserre is netted in the process, and henceforth the ©Ten ing is happily enjoyed. There were no preliminary experiments of this kind at Mr. doles' house. He led the way into erery kind of social pleasure. First, he played " The Pastoral Symphony," from " the Messiah," and then the old favorite," Bay of Biscay," which he song with fervent vivacity. Then the case of fossils and other cariosities was opened for the ladies; the beautiful portfolio of sketches and engravings also; pipes, and a round table on the verandah, were provided for the gentle men ; the young ladies were kept at the piano; the minister now saying, "Thank you, miss, that is beautiful; please favor us with some thing'else." Then he found time for a little argumentative discussion with Mr. Sinclair, during which his eyes were looking round to where the ladies sat, ever and anon explaining the name of some fossil, or pointing out the beauty of some picture. In fact, the people were his guests; his duty was to entertain them, and he did so. Some will say, " Where is there any religion in this ?" In the first place, the man was known, his principles were not hidden either in the pal pit or the life. Test him with a temptation to do a wrong, and the righteous indignation of the man was a thing to be remembered. Ask him to go to comfort a poor sick or dying person, and his soul was instantly in the work. Was there one to whom he could do good ?—he was ready. His inner life was expressive of humble, devoted attachment to the Saviour. The out* ward expression of that life was a decided disposition to claim for himself and bis brethren all the privileges, as citizens of a commonwealth, wbioh other men enjoyed. His home enjoy ments were at pure as earth's pleasures can be, yet be loved many things which some would condemn. He could sing a glee or a song heartily, and, now that he had the chance* Bishop's " Chough and Crow" was sung with the utmost enthusiasm, the young ladies taking the soprano and alto parts, and the minister the base. After this, they sang the " Kyrie Eleison" of Mozart's Twelfth Mass, and then Mr. Coles sang, the opening air, " Comfort ye," from « The Messiah," Miss Julia Gumby then sing ing, " I know that my Bedeemer liveth." Then they had a round or two, and a few illustrations of quadrille and waltz musio, durirfg which Mr. Coles challenged Mr. Sinclair to a game of chess, Mr. Brown and Mr. Gumby had a discussion about pastoral matters, the two elder ladies being confidentially immersed in domestic recipes. Fruit of various kinds was placed on the sideboard, which was open to all, but there was no wine. Mr. Coles was an abstainer, but upon this ground: First, he could not afford it} secondly, he considered it to be bis duty to set an example to others. Beyond this he did not pretend to go. If others thought proper to take intoxicating drink, provided they did not exceed the bounds of moderation, he never interfered. Bat if he knew of anyone who could not take it without falling into vioe, then he tried the utmost powers of persuasive influence to induce them to abstain. Thus the evening passed pleasantly and happily enough. Mrs. Gumby proved to be a very estimable woman under certain circum stances. Let her have the comforts of a good home, and she was at home; bat she ooald not forget the home she had left. Emigration at fifty-five years of age is not all pleasure or pro fit. At 8 o'clock Mr. andv Mrs. Sinclair's horses were saddled and brought to the front of the house, and Mr. Brown had gone to the paddock to get his own Black Bess into necessary trim for a ride home, when a loud cooey was heard, and this being repeated by another, and then by a third, the whole party were on the veran dah in a trice, wondering what it could mean, fn a minute or so Black Bill rode ap to the house with a letter for Mr. Coles. " From Mass* Stewart, Misser Coles." Chafexk XXVTI. IYKRYBODY OH THX HOYS. JtJDD only waited to see Argyle safely carried to the hat; he then returned along the bed of the stream till he oame to a place where he could climb to the top of the cliff. Not a moment did he delay, for it was daybreak by this time. With a swift foot and determined will, onward he strode, one strong motive impelling him— there was no longer any safety for him. Every consideration of duty, ever feeling of religions hope, every desire to redeem the past dissolved Use vapor in the light of the sun. " Ihe fates are against me," he cried, as he sped through the valley where he had left the sheep. £yen the sight of them had no effect upon him. " To the blacks," said he to himself; and then, raising his voice, he roard out, " The knob of a whip! he has sworn to follow me! To the blacks; to the blacks!" In the meantime David Argyle's wounds were washed and bound np. So serious, however, were some of them, that what could be done to get him home was the source of most anxiotu solicitude to Stewart But finally he decided to dispatch the black lad to Leyton to request the overseer to bring on the spring cart, with other necessaries, as quickly as possible. The morning wore along rather monotonously, but as they knew that it would be impossible for the cart to get to Hermit Glen, part of the time was occupied in making a rough litter to carry the wounded man to the road side. It was midday when this was accomplished, but by this time strong fever had set in, and David Argyle began to give evidence of the most alarming symptoms of delirium. It was with no small satisfaction, therefore, but with great surprise, that in half an hour after they had reached the road two light waggons were seen approaching, which,' on reaohing the place, Stewart found to be the travelling cortege of Colonel Tomlinson and his suite. The sight of a wounded man lying on a litter would have attracted attention if there had been no other reason why the cortege should have stopped. But the surprise of the colonel was very great, for he exclaimed, " By the powers, James Stewart, what brought you here, and who have you there ?" 11 Fortunately, colonel, we are just in time to meet yon. We started upon this errand, for we heard of that unfortunate affair through your overseer, Brown, and resolved to come on and render assistance if we could." "In doing which yon got crippled," said the colonel. "Bat who is it?" "David Argyle, colonel."
"You don't say so?" The colonel immediately alighted, and, briefly introducing the ladies, he went to the litter. The interviews which followed were painful and pleasing. Mrs. Welland was rejoiced to see Stewart, but the recollection of the put flashed across her memory with horrors which cannot be expressed. " How did it happen ?" was the inquiry of Miss Tomlinson. The question was too pointed to be answered direct, but Stewart was no hand at evasion. He said that a dispute had arisen with some man. whom Argyle knew, and in the souffle which ensued the latter had fallen over a rock and broken his arm. To Colonel Tomlinson, however, he told all the facts, without men tioning Judd's real name. Of course there was great sympathy with the wounded man. The ladies all alighted; in faot, everyone forming the cortegi, with the exception of Captain Oliver. To gather up the fragments of half-an-hour's discussion, and to get the travellers in safety to their several dominations, it is only necessary to add that Argyle was placed iv the waggon with Captain Oliver, and, as speedily as was consistent with the roughness of the roads and the position of the wounded men, the journey. was brought to an end. It was 4 o'clock when they theyiiad ten miles to go; but then they met the cart, and into it Argyle was removed; and, as thetraok to Leyton somewhat diverged from this spot, the two parties separated, with many congratulations, anticipations of happy intercourse, and sincere hope that the wounded men would soon be convalescent. Black Bill delivered his letter, which an nounced that Mr. Argyle had met with a severe accident; that his arm was broken; and en treated Mr. Cole*, who was somewhat ac quainted with medicine and surgical operations, "to ride over to Leyton immediately on receipt of the letter, as they hoped by that time to be at home. Black Bill was detained at Leyton, and consequently arrived late at Mr. OoW house. Mrs. G-umby was profoundly disturbed upon hearing the disastrous news. Of course " the horrid country " came in far its share of invectives; but when Mr. Brown said that he would go over to Leyton but for the fact that his people would be alarmed at his non-return home, buthe wassureMr.Gumby would not objeot to ride over with the minister, the wrath of the lady became something curious to contemplate. It rose to fever heat, then descended as rapidly to zero—in which condition the good lady ap peared to be hysterical—from whioh singular state she gradually dissolved into the benignity of summer heat, and placidly declared that " this was the climax of her troubles." It is difficult to estimate what might have been the issue of this fresh feature of Mrs. Gumby's complaint, but as she gave utterance to these memorable words one of the Leyton stockmen rode up to the house, stating that Colonel Tom linson was at hand, and would arrive in half an hour. Mr. Stewart bad sent him on with the colonel's party, the more surely to lead ! them home as speedily as possible. Mr. Coles oould not, under the circumstances, remain to receive the colonel, nor would he hear of Mrs. Gumby being disturbed by the proposed visit of her husband to Leyton. He did not need anyone to go, he said. Mr. Stewart's people were there; he would retarn with them, and probably come back in the morning. In .the meantime Mr. and Mrs. Gamby were at liberty to remain for the night at bis house. 80 the storm blew over. The whole of the party adjourned to the station, and had scarcely arrived when Colonel Tomlinson and hu suite completed their toilsome journey, and the colonel entered upon the possession of his new home. Chaptxb 3LX.VIU. AUONa THE HATITW. Jims reached the camp of the natives in about balf-an-hour after leaving Hermit Glen. It was daylight, but only one man was to be seen, and this one happening to be Eagle Hawk, without any hesitation he walked up to him, held up his hand in token of friendship, and addressed his old comrade in the native tongue, which he could speak pretty well. The black fellow was very uneasy; he had passed the night in patrolling round the oamp, spear in hand, which he used as a staff or carried over his shoulder. He adored Mogara for her beauty and courage. Once he had ventured to hint something beyond this, but the rage with which she listened to his words, and which burst into a tumult when he had finished, banished from his mind any hope that she could be to him any more than a friend. The advent of Judd to the tribe was a constant source of anxiety to the old black. It was by Mogara's order that he had been spared, for it was customary to spear every white man whom they took pri soner ; but Jndd's life was spared as an excep tion to the rule. It was very evident why the half-caste queen insisted upon this, so evident indeed that once Eagle Hawk remonstrated with her. She replied, "It is my command," and the mandate was obeyed—more than obeyed, for every man and woman in the tribe vied with each other to do him honor. Judd became a favorite amongst them with only one or two exceptions. When he escaped, Eagle Hawk in secret rejoiced; and upon his reappearance his old uneasiness returned with renewed vigor. Externally he showed nothing but pleasure; he even kissed Judd's cheek, and laughed as if he could not show delight enough ; but his heart was all gall and bitterness. When Mo gara therefore invited Judd to return to them he would have suggested many objections, but a glance at her eye was enough. He knew her. mandate, and he was not one to resist it. All that night, however, he was conning the pro bable results of Judd's influence over Mogara. It was with no pleasure, therefore, that he saw Judd coming towards him, or heard the words, " I come to live with you again." 1 So Judd became again a sojourner amongst ; the natives. This time he was more reconciled with his position, for it was forced upon him. Self-protection w s a primary virtue with him. i He had early in life habited himself to cunning and trickery, which inevitably produce fear and want of manliness; and, if he had any courage, it was that of desperation—there was nothing natural in it. His life was therefore one con tinual expression of suspicion. Still be tried by every means to gain the confidence of the natives, and was kind and good to all who were willing to be friendly; but there were some who regarded him with mingled foelings of scorn and mistrust. Mogara, on th» contrary, now cast off all reserve, and ws» Judd's constant companion. All her admiration for the man returned, even though ten years of hardship had whitened bit hair, so a* to give him a most venerable appearance. Thus three months and more passed away, during which tbej had not migrated far from Hermit Glen, when one beautiful evening Mogara and Judd were seated under a tree near the top of the range. The place was pleasant, and they halted for a while. The halt naturally led to a chat, and this was how it began: " How long do you remain in this place, Mo gara?" " I not quite know, Henry, what we do. I hear zome zay we go in that country 'gen," She pointed towards the south.
"Why do yon go there? I no vut to go that way," s»id Judd. " Soldier, they will take* me, and put me in prison." "Ha!" aaid Mogara, in alarm. "Ha! I zee. Zen we no go sere." * " Not safe for me here, Mogara, if we stop too long. Men seek for me, and find me—" The woman caught Judd'i arm as he spoke, as if she would hold him fast. Judd misunder stood her at first, but seeing that her eves were full of tears, he went on to say " I would rather be with jou than the white men. They no do me good —much harm." "Mogara protect too, Henry. But zoo no wish to go 'way 'gen ?" " No, Mogara. I come lire with you all, and yon are very good to me. Ino wish to go away yet." " Yet ? I ray—Mogara zay—zoo never go 'way. x Why' zoo wish to go back to zem who hate zob and me ? I kill »ny onemy, zat left my mother. Henry, her die like dog. I zay I would kill him, and I zhot " " Your own father, Mogara." What a look the half-caste turned upon Judd as he spoke these words! Will it be believed that this poor despised, but in some respects clever creature had never allowed her thought* to rest on any other idea than revenge for an alleged outrage against her mother. " Her f a th»r " " Yes, Mogara, he is so," said Judd, as she paused upon these words, repeating them with emphasis. She was gazing at no particular objeot. It was one of those seasons of despair which seize us as a terrible revelation bursts upon the in tellect for the first time. She was staring into nothingness, seeing nothing, yet gazing with, the eye of a lini; imnierted in the deepest thought, with her eyes wide open, but she saw only the word " father." Judd saw the emotion whioh was agitatiug the black-eyed savage beauty with an influence she could not control. He placed his hand upon her shoulder, but she moved not—seemed not to ? otiee him j repeat ing, in whispers now, "Father! my father! Mg father .'" Presently she cried out with an awful vehemence, " And I killed him! my father ! Henry, I killed him!" Nature came to her relief, for she burst into a flood of tears. Judd spoke to her, tried to com fort her; told her he was the man who was standing at the door when she fired, and that when he left there was no particular danger. It was long before she could bo pacified. The words " my father" were uttered with increased vehemence and bitterness. She stood up, took out her little revolver, dashed it to the ground, wrung her hands, and alternately burst into tears, or eat with a kind of indolent stupor. At last Judd took up the two animals whioh they had killed, and, gently laying hold of Mogara's hand, he led her away without any resistance. Slowly they returned to the camp, to find the whole tribe in the highest excitement. One of them was wounded, and another killed, by a party of bushmen who were travelling on the road. The blacks had been surprised as they were lying on the grass by the roadside. The moment they 6aw the bushmen they hastily de« oamped, but, for mere sport sake, they were fired at, one man being sent into eternity and another poor creature lamed for h'fe. Loud were the horrible threats which sounded through out the camp. Eagle Hawk was haranguing a large group as Mogara and Judd came in sight. A shout which rang through the woods greeted their approach, and instantly fifty men ran to meet them, shouting in the native tongue, " White man kill! white man kill!"—every one of them scowling upon Judd, his white, or rather brown skin seeming to them a relation ship to the agressors, which for a while they were unable or unwilling to forget. " White man kill! Woopa malar ban .'" The first word was shouted with terrible ve hemence, the "woop" being elongated in a sort of oooey. The scene was very exciting j and when they discovered in Mogara the unmis takable evidence that she had been weeping, every eye again turned to Juid, now with in quiring glances, and tben with suspioious signs, whioh meant far more than Judd felt comfort able in witnessing. But Mogara understood her people better than he did. "To ze camp, to ze camp!" said she, in com manding accents. Burrima, burrima /" (hastily, quickly.) Instantly she was obeyed, and, with thonta and frantic cries, rushed to the place where Eagle Hawk was still vehemently haran guing a group of excited men. " What iz it? what iz ze matter?" exclaimed Mogara, as she took her stand by the side of Eagle Hawk. "Father killed," was the reply of a young fellow. " Fathe killed—white fellow kill!" and be dashed his great club on the ground, and burst into tears. "Zee, zee, Mogara! Zee!" and he took off a blanket from the dead body which was lying ?ear the spot. Mogara drew near to look at the corpse, saying, " Who did this ?" " One, two, three, six white fellow," was the reply from a dozen voices. " Quiet!" said Mogara, waving her hand. "We kilj for zis. Go zleep. Morrow we find out white fellow. Blood for blood! White man he kill; black man kill too. Go xleep, zleep—morrow get up; I tell you what do. Eagle Hawk, come with me; Henry, zoo come too." The trio left the excited natives, and entered the bark humpie of the queen, and here a lengthened debate ensued. " Eagle Hawk," said Mogara, " I am ziok of zis." "Let us have blood, then!" exolaimed the old man. "No, no; zoo no understand. Zoo, or me, or Henry may be zhot like-Ballu." "Blood, blood!—kill!" Eagle Hawk trem bled with passion as he cried out —" I say blood! Let us go burn, kill!" "No, Eagle Hawk," said Mogara, "we must not. We no strong to fight against long guns. Zey zhoot—kill—we no able to get near. Our people turn, run, fly—zhot like dog. No, no, zat never do.' " But we must have revenge; blackfellows no rest till they have blood. We kill one white man for black. One black kill—one white he die for black. You know this, Mogara!" " I do know it, Ea-le Hawk, and it iz right. We have no law like white man. Zey bold up hand everywhere against us. We no able to talk with zem about our rights. Zey strong— we weak. Z.-y put zeir hand on heart, and zay, 'Curse, curse—damn, damn them!' and then they fire, kill." "As there is a God in heaven, she is right," said Judd. " Let us go, then, morrow day," aaid Eagle Hawk. "Go up borru (west) ; we find plenty sheep there; we kiil sheep—eat them; we find man—we kill him—burn, dance, sing!" The conference was lengthened into a discus sion of minor details. Mogara began it with a recollection of her father suffering from her hand, and the thought #f blood made her shudder; but gradually the dreadful influence of her life among the natives exerted its power, and she was as eager for revenge and blood as any of the tribe. Mysterious are the ways of Providence, but all are in goodness, kindness, wisdom, as golden chains fastened by eternal promise to the throne of God. Frequently the darker the cloud the brighter the central glory. Judd knew this; he was ever trying to educate Mogara to some such manner of thinking and judging, but there was too much bitterness in him at times for such reflections to be of any lasting benefit. He re gretted that he had saved Argyle's life; then he was glad that he had done so; then he wished for another opportunity of trying his strength with " the youngster ;" and finally he resolved to quit his present life, and at any risk get down to the towns and escape for ever fromthemisery of such an existence as that which he was com pelled to experience. * Alas! all his ideas were like frost in the sun ; they melted away ; were absorbed in constantly recurring events which seemed to harden him again into adamant; and when on the morrow he found that the tribe was about to move to wards the west—that the circle of his fate was drawing closer and closer around him, and soon he would stand upon the spot where the whole would be concentrated ia the one great view, of which the climax was to be death. To-morrow ! ah ! tomorrow ! what thoughts does the well-known phrase suggest. "To-day—to-day," thought Judd, "I goon to the end. What will it be!" [to bz co.Nruvuzi*.]