Papurau Newydd Cymru

Chwiliwch 15 miliwn o erthyglau papurau newydd Cymru

Cuddio Rhestr Erthyglau

13 erthygl ar y dudalen hon

t")[ALL RIGHTS RESURVED,]…

Newyddion
Dyfynnu
Rhannu

t" ) [ALL RIGHTS RESURVED, ] FLYN O' THE HILL ffl or, THE LITTLE WHITE WITCH (M ? By MADGE BARLOW, IUJ /?\ Author of Crag Cormac," "The Cairn of the Badger," &c. /?\ CHAPTER II (Continued). THE MAN WITH THE CROOKED MOUTH. "After me if you please, Mr. Bamfylde," he said. Our stewards are-n't permitted the freedom of the Hill, but when you're in you'r-£ in, and we needn't gab about it." He spread an excellent cold supper before Eric. "And when, yoi've finished," he said autocratically, "I'll show you to a bedroom my missus is now preparing. If you require anything else don't ring. I'll wait in the hall." "I hope you won't inconvenience yourself on my account." I won't." was the disconcerting reply. The' candid Jaffe retreated, and (bounced in again at the sound of a ciitir being pushed back from dhe table. The Piglit of a cigar-case incensed him. "A sineTl of smoke would annoy and alarm the mistress," he protested, and Eric, who had thought oi Macara as a bachelor, was gratified to heai such proof to the contrary. He suggested that he might indulge in a whiff out 1 of doors, and Jaffe explained that it couldn't be done owing to the early locking up. He had no choice but to mount the stairs and forget his woes in sleep. They tiptoed to the second landing, and Altered a bedchamber quaintly upholstered i old-fashioned chintz, with creamy frieze above oal- pirolliiig, a few ilkins on the polished floor, and a wood fire crackling on a Dutch-tiled hearth. A couple of wax-lights in antique copper candlesticks stood on the mantelpiece, and through the open window stol e the a brier scent. Eric frankly admired the room, and at once Jaffe's prim features relaxed, encouraging the steward to hazard a second remark. "You have been in the Army. One can't mistake the old soldier." J ffe's heels clicked together. "I served in England under Captain Farrell, after. wards of the Poona Horse," he replied pom- waris of tLe poolia l l s e, "\Vas the Captain's Christian name 'v' ? st l il *e Capti i ,.l's i-?e eager, in- Harry? Eric asked, and the eager, in- terested note in his voice brought a wary look to the ex-soldier's eye. A wooden shutter seemed to be urawm over his counte- nance. He said impassively: "No, it was Lancelot." "Is he lying? pondered Eric. "And why the .mischief should he? I'm not jbothcrcd about the Captain. He's Uncle Gid's con- cern, and Uncle can do his own detective work." "Them Darkingtons must be ctose as weasels with each, other," mumbled the ser- vant, elippmig softly downstairs. "They've told him nothing, and precious little that handsome wastrel will learn from me." Eric generally wont to bed at daybreak, and the absurdity of expecting him to re- tire at ten o'clock amused him. He roamed about the room. Going- to the window he pulled the chintz curtains apart and dis- covered a small iron balcony outside. Eureka! He extinguished the candles, stepped on to it (the window opened on hinges) and smoked contentedly in the pure hill air, finding that a mixture of starlight rirl ,swe?fbrier odour induced rabid seniti- i;:3ntality. His cigar had long been c.shes, and lie was smothering yawns of sheer boredom when the click of the hall door made him lean across the low hand-rail. That gentle click ,ter, ,,?ss h e low hir d -r, had a secretive sound A girl or woman stood below, wearing the blue peasant cloak popular in the South, its ample folds and flopping hood completely hiding her form and features, but the form wau certainly not Mrs. JalTe's. She cast a furtive glance around, gathered the hood close, and tripped down th-e avenue. Lore of adventure, and a suspicion that the braggart of the stile might be prowling about, tempted him to shadow her unknown to Jaffe. To think was to act. He swung ever the balcony, and gripping the thick ivy stem slid rapidly several feet-tore his hands—fell, dragging the ivy with him- and bumped on the groand most un- romanticaliy. He had sprained his ankle and ended his knightly quest ere it was .well begun. He was concocting a plausible tale for Jaffe when that worthy popped his head out of the chintz chamber casement and gave vent to a subdued howl. By the tares of war, what's this? You'll bring the Ihousc around our ears next, you long-legged jackass, to lean on a midget rail and expect to keep your balance. If your spinel not smashed thank Providence you grabbed hold of the ivy. Dear-a-dear, the mess you've made "How lucky that you went up to tuck mo into bed," chuckled Eric. "To ask what hour you'd like your break- fast, Mr. Bamfylde, or sure as death you'd have lain there till mornin', and serve you right. "You might be more sympathetic," as Jaffe emerged by way of the door and rudely lifted and examined his ankle. "Men who behave like kids should be treated as such," was the sour response, but JafTe's face was kinder than his speech, per- haps because he thought it a pity that so comely and gay-spirited a young giant should be kin to my lord Darkington. "If the sprain's your only injury, I'll get ycu upstairs in a jiffy," quoth he. Eric determined that wild horses should not drag him upstairs, where he would be virtually a prisoner, so he collapsed artfully i the hall, and Jaffe had perforce to run to the kitchen for water. He was stuping the swelling with ehrky hands to an accompani- ment of low muttering, when the front door opened and the cloaked woman glided in. Eric reddened, conscious that he cut a ludicrous figure with one leg of his trousers buckled up and his bare foot in a basin. J& s?. pI)aclc on his heels and stared r.rLi&oOdiy. 'i- gv "The mistress he ejaculated. It And have you never seen the mistress hdore 1" she asked pertly. "Out!" he gasped. And the clock gone e ieveji. "What if it were gone twelve? I can take care of myself." » "Not when some folks are about." "I wanted to show you I wasn't afraid— to sort of trail my cloak up and down the road and defy him to tread on the tail of it. I'm free, free as air, raid no man shall cow me. I need never be afraid again of- Then she stopped, seeing Eric, whom in her pretty, flunked excitement she had not noticed. Jaffe answered the dismayed ques- tion in her face, his tone sulky. "This is Mr. Andy Bamfylde, come sooner than he was wanted, and a cool customer. Off the doorstep that man wouldn't budge. IV, c had to give him a bed, and, instead of going to it, out he traipses to the light bal- cony, and over it he tumbles, neck and crop. I doubt he's a fixture, for walk on that leg he Won't inside a fortnight." Her wind-tossed hair was cloudy black. her complexion a clear, healthy ivory. She had an adorable little chin, a short, straight iiose, ornamented on the right side by three freckles, and lips that carved deliciously when they parted in smiles. Her height was below the medium, and her shape slender. "You don't resemble your cousin Horace," die said, intently scanning him. She ordered Jaffe to prepare a room en the ground floor, off the summer parlour, for Mr. Bamfykle; and when they were alone her manner changed to an austere civility a3 sudden as it was confusing. "I heard the clamour you raised outside, and knew you were admitted. It wa6"—she hesitated—"scarcely respectful to me." "Is your father, or perhaps your husband, Mr. Flvn Macara, not at home? asked Eric,' growing warm. "I am alone in the houee, except for the 62rvants." "I beg a thousand pardons." She looked long at him, her chin in her palm, and her grey eyco frankly questioning. "I was wondering whether Sylvia had made a mistake when she said you were coming to the Hill as Lord Darkington's willing tool. You don't seem the kind of man who would be anybody's tool. I believe you are ignorant of your cousin's scheme, both the simple surface part and the puzzling part which lies beneath the surface and is beyond my probing." "I honestly assure you I am unaware of any scheme," he replied earnestly. "And I've said I believe that. We might DO good friends, you and I, but only on the understanding that neither of us will help to play his lordship's game." l "What is it? You should tell me. I may blunder, you see, and unless I'm warned be- forehand you couldn't blame me if I did." "He sent you here to marry me. He told his wife you had consented, after much grumbling, 11 to sacrifice yourself just to please him." The ridicule of her eyes bit into unhappy Eric. "Marry you!" he exclaimed. "How could ,? "I .rry you!" be exel, I? You are-vou are-- Her next words staggered him. An unfortunate orphan. Mr. Bamfylde— fatherless, brotherless, husbandless, none other than your employer. Flyn Macara." "And the little white witch," he added under his breath. I CHAPTER III. I TIIE SPITEFULNESS OF AUNT TOO-TOO, AND I OTHERS. 1 A week later Flyn talked business while Eric reclined on a sofa in sybaritic ease. "To-morrow," said she, "you'll be able to muddle through the account books. I've no head for figures, and my previous stewards hadn't either. Maybe you'll bring the luck back to the Hill. Darkington wrote that you had had practical experience of farming in South Africa." Eric's heart sank into his boots. The one thing he and Andy had completely ignored was their utter unfitness for the post. lie silently invoked a blight on Darking- ton for his lies and reservations. "See here," he cried fervently, "I'll work for you till I drop, and where I blunder I'll make the loss good. You shan't be a loser through me, I swear. Shake hands on it." She gave him her hand, laughing a trifle nervously. And if I can be of service to you as a special and particular friend, don't hesitate to make use of me, Miss Macara." "Why should you imagine I require a special friend?" He couldn't say, "Because I've found out you are in Culsheen's black books, and re- garded as a suspicious character," so he answered: We all do betimes. Let me be yours." I hope you will not exert yourself too much at first," she said, with a gravity that caused him to feel warm all over. I'll assist you to-morrow. The Mallards are calling this evening, and, of course, Mickey Keene and a few nobodies, and if vou don't mind we'll come into your summer parlour as usual. It's our largest apartment, and it permits Aunt Too-Too Mallard to watch the passers-by on the Hill road." Eric grimaced, and wished Aunt Too-Too could be everlastingly consigned to Timbuc- l too along with a few other la-dies from whom J- he had heard a great deal in a week, but he begged Flyn' to come to the parlour and de- liver him early from the clutches of Miss. Mallard. J A letter Cheveral had written to Andy the day before may account for his eager desire ( to befriend Miss Macara. He wrote in a white heat of enthusiasm. I've scolded you sufficiently for the trick you played on me," he began, so we'll drop that matter for a season, aJtd pick up this deludeping Flyn where we laid licr down. She's'a busy. little creature, trotting round the place from morn till e"e, neglect- ing me shamefully, and betimes repenting and coming to ask how the ankle progresses. She tries to be prim and proper during her visits, but spite of precautions the child in her breaks out, and we wax merry. She's owcr young, Andy, to he alone, and the treatment some of the Culsheen ladies deal out to her Bets my blood boiling. There are a few gracious neighbourly souls in our vicinity, of whom the curate, Mickey Keene, is king md chief. Judging by externals you wouldn't bid three- ha'pence for Mickey at an auction, but the heart of him is worth untold gold. His reverend head, Samuel Mallard, D.D., is a father to Flyn, and pets her as much as his spinster sister will permit. He has two daughters, Cathy and Ella. Ella is fifteen and a. tomboy. Cathy has a mane of yellow hair pitchforked on top of her shapely poll, and is a beauty living in a state of per- petual motion. She cycles, golfs, plays tennis and hockey, and declines an offer of marriage from Mickey Keene about once a week. The girls are fond of Flvn, but the Aunt— "She and a Mrs. Jovce-Duffy lead the rank and file of Flyn's enemies, and never weary of the attack. It seems, according to Aunt Too-Too, that Miss Macara came a year ago from haunts unknown to enter into pos- session of the abode called Paradise, bring- ing with her the Jaffes and her baby nephew, Hal, an infant of seven weeks, so delicate that she could scarcely trust him out of her sight night or day. Naturally the natives, an aristocratic, exclusive iot, wanted information on two or three points j before they would venture to call. As, for I instance, whence Miss Macara hailed, her parentage, her means of livelihood, the baby's parentage, and the reason why she— ;:7, vas it", sqIq g-:a;dian. I 4.2. they gone tactfully to work they might, have solved the riddles, but someone bungled. Flyn struck an attitude as arro- gant as the best of them. An officious dame with a long tongue was ordered to quit the Hill draw:™ room nnd jiever Yc-cr.tci it, and the r<Tst wsrc snubbed holus bolus to savfi irouble. In a naughty temper Flyn shook off everybody and 'de- clined to appcano a curiosity which was legitimate enough though indiscreetly exer- cised. She kept aloof, confiding in none. The Nobodies accepted her, and these the clave to. The clerical party were kindness itself—Aunt 'Poo-Too's attitude not affecting the main body—but the county people were completely estranged. "I'm not applauding Miss Flyn's conduct. She did wrong to be resentful and secretive, and I'll scold her roundly some day for it, when she says I may. Surely Lady Dark- ington knows all Flyn's antecedents and could have averted the social catastrophe, yet it appears she has remained dumb and taken a neutral stand, letting wildest rumours go uncontradicted. "Baby Hal died recently of premature old age, and Flyn mourns him in white. "There is a mysterious man who figures in the circulating gossip and comen and goes at irregular periods, managing to avoid en- countering any of the Culsheenites, though some of them would give half their income to meet and look him in the face. I have met him, and I'm ready to fight the first who dares repeat in mv presence that he's a son of the Jaffes and that Flyn is married to him and pays him to leave her unmolested at the Hill. It's the very latest story, and less uncharitable than others. "Andy, I'm going to discover the truth and prove them a. pack of liars. I'll ram falsehoods down the throats that uttered them. I'll be her knight, battling for her against worse foes than the knights of yore overthrew in combat for a fair ladye's sake. I've fastened her colours to my lance. Wish me success. "Y ou reminded me in your last letter, penned bv Nurse Dora, that Uncle Gid had matrimonial plans which I was bound to consider if I valued my future comfort. I haven't forgotten. Have I even hinted that I desired to marry Flyn Macara or that she would encourage me-if I did? Why, we had a row yesterday. I asked her-how my pre- decessors in office had stumbled to get such short shrift—three in a. year-and she drevs herself up to her fullest extent, which isn't a great deal, and said haughtily, 'They mad-2 icivo to me.' Said I, immensely surprised, I wonder why,' and she glared like a spit- fire. An hour after she lugged a book to my treble and told me if I couldn't keep h, ledgers correctly I should send in my re- signation and seek a position under Govern- ment. You have,' says she, 'made a gross arithmetical error.' I took the book from her and glanced at the spot her triumphant linger indicated. A single question elicited the fact that the mistake was hers. "No, we shouldn't agree in bonds, witch- ing Flyn and I; and Uncle Gid shall marry me to his lost paragon, Clodagh Farrell, the daughter of his old army chum, Captain Harry Farrell, when he finds her. Till he does, I'll be Flyn's protector and doughty wa-rrior. "Aunt Too-Too is coming to the Hill this evening, to an informal high tea beloved by the young folks, and I anticipate fresh scandal concerning the little mistress. Each day brings forth new spawn of # evil. I listen, because if I didn't that aminblo virgin would pour her venom into other ears and thus spread it further." The rest was personal to Andy, affec- tionate messages, entreaties to "buck up" and pull bravely through the impending ordeal. And a post-scriptum appeal to Nurse Dora, in whom, Eric seemed to think, reposed the power of giving or withholding Andy's life. I CHAPTER IV. I I TROUBLE FROM A FAMILIAR QT" ARTE ft. He was sitting up late to worry through the last pages of Miss Macara's complicated accounts, and Jaffe had brewed strong coffee to banish the 6leep fiend, but instead of brightening his intellect it overwhelmed him with drowsiness, and set his head bobbing above confusing columns of figures, which formed a dingy blur on the dingier paper. Thinking change of air would revive him, he sauntered across the hall to the dining- room, threw himself into a chair, and passed unwittingly into the land of Nod. Concluding that Chevcral had retired to his bedroom, Jaffe, on finding tlte parlcuv empty, extinguished the lamp, tossed the ledger into a table drawer, and locked up for the night. Flyn slept above the dining-room on the first landing. Awaking out of slumber when pale streaks of dawn striped the eastern sky, Eric heard voices, and fancied they were part of a njghtmare wherein he had been struggling to rise and answer a terrific, prolonged as- sault on the door-knocker. He sat erect and listened. A man was speaking from the out- side of the house and being answered from a window just over that near which Eric's chair was placed. Half stupidly he realised that the insulting individual of the stile had come again at an untoward hour, been de- nied admittance, and that Flyn and he were now parleying. I admit I lost my temper a week or two ago, but you provoked me," the man was saying. "You drove me mad by refusing to recognise my claim or make reparation for the old wrong. Am I fairly treated? Did I get common justice from beginning to end? I ask you honestly, did I? It was a cruel trick you played me." "I meant well-I acted for the best," Flyn replied. "Not best for yourself and me." "At the time I did not consider self or you. J "X 0, your mood was hysterical. You thought you were doing a nobly romantic action, and you wrecked three lives." "The wisest of us err, Ralph Dorn. I was a girl of eighteen—romantic, 1 confess- hysterical if you will-my judgment un- formed." "Flyn, it isn't too late; we may yet be heppy. Love can pardon worse offences than yours." "There is no question of love on my side," was her scornful response. "Once there may have been (Eric's face hardened), but I soon outgrew it. You are nothing to me. I don't want to pain you, Ralph, and I'd rather you went away a long distance and stopped annoying me, because if you persist I shall have to be protected from you. These scenes must not continue." "Would you ehut me out of your house for e-er? I have done it. I had no option. You are a man possessed by one insane idea^ "If it be insanity to love devotedly, then I am glad to be insane. I v^ill come and come till I wear out your resistance, and it will be in broad daylight, Flyn, not in the skulk- ing dark like a robber. Turn me from your door, and I will sit beside it till it opens. Get me arrested, and when they set me free I'll take the nearest road to you. If my behaviour works mischief between  friends and you, whose fault will it be? ?our "You can't improve on the mischief I my- self hare wrought, and you couldn't sink me lower than my own pride has sunk me. Good-bye, Ralph. That's my final word. I have finished with you." The upper window closed, and for several moments there was no sound on the gravel patch. Then the man called her passion- ately by iiaine, entreated, threatened, flung his ravings up to the closed and blinded win- dow, poured forth a flood of lover's language compared with which Romeo's was tame. For the time being he was crazy, and cared not what he said, nor how he abased himself in his despair. And he was sober. His voice testified to that. Horribly ashamed of the display of emotion, feeling sorry for the poor, infatuated victim, Eric went quickly into the hall, and stumbled over Jaffe doing sentry duty in a pair of list slippers. That veteran betrayed consterna- tion, but his wits were alert. "Hark to the heathenish lingo of him," he breathed, plucking Eric's coat. Only a lunatic would prate of love that way. Did ever a body hear the like ? He'd go through the Inferno for her, he says. The polis- station is the snot he's headin' for if he ain't careful." Eric released his coat. "Mr. Bamfyldc," said Jaffe hastily, "this ranter had a-a sort of claim on Miss Flyn's family." "That doesn't concern me, my good Jaffe." "It does, if so be you were listening in yonder. His guns are spiked, though, and he can't harm her. His day's gone by." Eric gazed at him sourly. "Did you expect Mr. Dorn to-night when you kocussed my coffee?" (To be Continued).

LAPSUS LINGUAE. I

PROTECTING THE RAISIN. I

IPENSION PROBLEMS:I -HOW TO…

[No title]

I | THIS WEEK IN THE GARDEN-?…

[No title]

I SOME QUAINT SUBSCRIPTIONS.I

I A GIANT FLAGSTAFF. I

I EARRINGS, THE MASK. l

[No title]

\  ffjj Helpful Hints for…

[No title]