by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER XVII.
BACK AT THE FARM.
The position of the Hau-Haus was naturally a very strong one, being atthe top of a high conical peak rising abruptly from low bush-coveredhills to a height of two thousand feet. On the face, which had beenbefore attacked, the ground sloped gradually up to the summit, but onthe right and left the slope was very steep, and at one point there hadbeen a landslip leaving a perpendicular face twenty feet high, and belowthat, for fifty feet, it was so steep that it was difficult to get afooting. The ground in rear of the position narrowed into a razor-backedridge down which a track led, with rope-ladders to aid the descent ofthe rock terraces.
The position in front, where alone it could be attacked, was defended bythree lines of earthworks with high parapets, and with ditches in frontabutting at either end on the steep slopes. The two lower works wereseven feet high, the upper work was nearly fourteen feet high, withsandbag loopholes to enable the defenders to fire through. Each line wasconnected with the one above it by covered ways. Operations commenced bythe advance of the Arawa division of the constabulary, and a portion ofthe Ngatiporou under Rapata. Advancing quietly and cautiously they cameupon a party of the enemy engaged in carrying up water. They drove themup to the pah and took possession of the only water available.
Rifle-pits were now dug and pushed forward gradually until within ahundred yards of the enemy's first lines of defence. Number sevendivision of the constabulary were now sent up, and these threw up a longline of trenches parallel to the enemy's works; and the artillerymenhaving with great exertion brought up a mortar, a vertical shell-firewas opened upon the enemy's position with great effect; although to getthem to the spot these shells had to be carried on the men's backs forthree miles over some terrific ravines. A hundred constabulary underColonel Fraser and a hundred Ngatiporou were sent round to cut off theenemy's retreat in rear. Another division of constabulary under MajorRoberts connected the two parties, and thus all escape of the enemy wascut off, with the exception of the small piece of cliff, seventy yardsin length, which was believed impossible to descend, and was moreoverexposed to a flanking fire from Rapata's force in front and that ofColonel Fraser in the rear.
For some days heavy firing went on, and the hardships suffered by theforce were great, for the rain fell without intermission. There weremany casualties on both sides. Captain Brown of the constabulary waskilled, and Captain Cabel of the same corps severely wounded. ColonelFraser's men pushed up the ridge in the enemy's rear, and formedrifle-pits near the summit from which the Hau-Haus made desperate butvain attempts to repel them. On the 4th of January Rapata, afterconsultation with Colonel Whitmore, determined to storm the lower lineof earthworks.
He told off fifty picked men, and sent them round with instructions toscale the cliff at the point where the parapet ended. The work was adangerous and difficult one, for the cliff was very steep and gravelly,and the Hau-Haus crowded to the end of the trench and fired down,wounding five of the stormers. But to do this they had to exposethemselves, and suffered severely from the fire of the men told off tocover the attack. Finally the Ngatiporou succeeded in climbing up underthe outer face of the parapet, which they cut through with their spades,and opening a raking fire upon the Hau-Haus drove them out and tookpossession of the first line of defence.
All night a sap was carried upwards towards the second line, with theintention of blowing up the earthworks and storming the main works nextmorning, and two hundred picked men were assembled in the trenches readyto attack at daybreak. But at two o'clock in the morning a woman criedout from within the pah that the Hau-Haus had all left leaving only somewounded men and women and children. Her words were not at firstbelieved, and they were considered to be only a ruse to induce theassailants to advance up the hill under the enemy's fire. But atdaybreak it was found that the news was true, that the whole of theHau-Haus had escaped, by means of ropes, down the face of theperpendicular cliff.
Rapata with his men started in pursuit. He followed the Hau-Hau trailfor some distance, and then scattered his men in small parties as heguessed that the enemy would scatter in search of food. A hundred andtwenty of the Hau-Haus were overtaken and killed, and Rapata returnedafter an absence of two days. By this time the whites and constabularyhad left, as the work had now been done and the constabulary wereurgently needed elsewhere. Rapata marched back by a circuitous way,captured eighty more prisoners, men, women, and children, whom hebrought alive down into the settlement. Te Kooti had lost altogetherduring the siege and pursuit a hundred and fifty of his men, but he wasstill believed in by the natives, three tribes joining him at once, morethan making up for the loss he had suffered.
Mr. Atherton and the other volunteers with Colonel Whitmore's force hadtaken but small share in the second attack upon Te Kooti's position, notbeing attached to any regular force. Rapata had been greatly struck withthe coolness of Mr. Atherton and Wilfrid in his first attack, andastonished at the accuracy of their shooting, and had greeted them veryheartily on his return, and invited them to act with his force. Theyhad, therefore, during the siege taken up their position in somerifle-pits in the rear of his party, and from here had done greatservice to the Ngatiporou by covering them from the enemy's fire, forthe Hau-Haus soon learned that it was almost certain death to stand upto take a steady aim above the parapet.
After the defeat of the Hau-Haus many of the natives of Poverty Bay whohad joined Te Kooti, and taken a prominent part in the massacres,deserted him, and calmly returned to the settlement as if nothing hadtaken place, and the authorities allowed them to remain unmolested. Thesettlers, justly indignant that men who had so lately murdered women andchildren should be allowed to come down among them with impunity, formedthemselves into a vigilance committee, and some of them who had lostrelatives in the massacre bound themselves by oath to shoot the nextparty of ruffians who made their appearance.
An opportunity soon offered. A native who had assisted in murdering Mr.Wylie's son came in, and was shot by Mr. Benson. The following morning,to his astonishment, Benson was warned to attend as juryman at theinquest of his victim. In vain he assured the native constable that hewas the man who had done the deed, and that he ought not therefore tosit. The constable refused to entertain the excuse, and so Benson notonly sat on his own trial but gave evidence against himself, and thejury, among whom was Mr. Atherton, having heard his statement, broughtin the following verdict: "We find that the deceased was shot by someperson unknown, and served him right."
The day after this verdict was returned Mr. Atherton and Wilfrid, whohad been waiting ten days for a coasting craft, sailed for the Mohakariver, and, landing at Mr. Mitford's, borrowed two horses from him, andwere soon at The Glade.
"I am afraid I am heavy on a horse still, Wilfrid," Mr. Atherton said asthey started, "but this animal may be thankful that I did not ride himthe last time I was here. I calculate I must be at least four stonelighter than I was."
"You certainly have lost a good deal of flesh, Mr. Atherton. I almostwonder that you did not continue with our friend Rapata. He declaresthat he will follow up Te Kooti till he catches him if it takes him acouple of years."
"No, no, Wilfrid," Mr. Atherton laughed, "it is possible to have toomuch of a good thing. I might jog along with a colonial force wellenough and benefit by it, but Rapata and his men would kill me in aweek. I do not think those fellows know what it is to be tired. No, I amvery well contented, and I intend to do no end of work in the woods andkeep myself down to my present weight. There is an immense deal to bedone in the way of botanizing. I have already found twelve new sorts offerns, and I have only just begun, and have not even looked at theorchids yet or the mosses."
"I should have thought, Mr. Atherton, that it would have been well worthyour while to go in for collecting and sending home rare and new plants,instead of merely drying specimens for your herbarium. I know neworchids fetch a tremendous price, because a gentleman near us at homehad a large house full of them, and I know he used to pay what se
emed tome prodigious prices for little scraps of plants not a bit morebeautiful than the others, simply because they were rare."
"The idea is a very good one, Wilfrid, and I will think it over. I havenever gone in for collecting in that way, for my income has been amplysufficient for my wants, but there can be no doubt that in these days,when people are ready to give such large sums for rare plants, abotanist like myself might make a really good thing of it out here. Thewoods are literally crowded with rare plants, and it would add to theinterest of my excursions. As it is now I simply look for new species,and even here these are hard to discover; but if I took to getting rarespecimens for sending home, there would be an unlimited field of workfor me. Of course the difficulty is getting them home alive, for in acountry like this, where there is practically no winter, they are neverin an entirely quiescent state, and would require the most carefulpacking in cases specially constructed for them, and would needattention on the voyage. Still all this might be managed, and a stewardmight be paid well to take them under his charge.
"Well, I will think it over, Wilfrid. Your idea certainly seems a goodone, and if it pays the great horticulturalists to send out skilled mento collect plants for them from all parts of the world, it shouldcertainly pay me, who am living in the centre of one of the most variedgroups of vegetation in the world, to send home consignments."
Ten minutes later they rode into the clearing. A loud whoop of welcomewas heard as they appeared, and Jack came tearing down from the house tomeet them. A moment later Marion appeared at the door, and she too cameflying towards them. Mr. and Mrs. Renshaw also appeared on the verandah.
"I need not ask you how you are, my boy," Mr. Renshaw said as Wilfrid,who had leapt from his horse as Marion ran up, hastened forward with herto the house. "Your mother has told us so much about your illness that Ihardly anticipated seeing you looking a picture of health. Mr. Atherton,I am delighted to see you. My wife has told me how much we all owe toyou both for your care of Wilfrid and for having brought him and my wifesafely out of the hands of the natives."
"I am very glad that I was able to be of some little service, Mr.Renshaw. It is quite as pleasant, you know, to be able to aid as it isto be aided, so we will look upon the obligation as mutual. Wilfrid hasinvited me to take up my quarters here for a day or two until my shantyis put in order again."
"It would be a pleasure to us if you would take up your abode herepermanently," Mr. Renshaw said as Mr. Atherton dismounted from his horseand the two men rung each other's hands warmly. "Jack, take the twohorses round to the shed. And now come in. Fortunately dinner is justready, and I have no doubt you are ready too."
Wilfrid was struck with the change that had come over his father sincehe had been away. He looked better and stronger than he had ever seenhim before, and spoke with a firmness and decision quite new to him. Mr.Renshaw, finding the whole responsibility of the farm upon hisshoulders, had been obliged to put aside his books and to throw himselfinto the business with vigour. At first the unusual exertion involved bybeing out all day looking after things had tried him a good deal, but hehad gained strength as he went on, and had even come to like the work.The thought that his wife and Wilfrid would be pleased to findeverything going on well had strengthened him in his determination tostick to it, and Marion had, as far as the house work allowed her, beenhis companion when about the farm, and had done her best to make theevenings cheerful and pleasant. They had had a terribly anxious time ofit during the week between the arrival of the news of the massacre atPoverty Bay and Mrs. Renshaw's return; but after that their life hadgone on quietly, although, until the news of the capture of TeKooti's fortress had arrived, they had naturally been anxious aboutWilfrid's safety.
"I AM AFRAID I AM HEAVY ON A HORSE STILL, WILFRID"
_Page 325_]
"You are looking wonderfully well and sunburnt, father," the lad said asthey sat at dinner.
"Your father has been out from morning until night, Wilfrid, managingthe farm," Mrs. Renshaw said with a glad smile, "and I do think theexercise has done him a great deal of good."
"I am sure it has, mother," Wilfrid agreed. "I am afraid the book hasnot made much progress, father, since I have been away."
"It has made no progress at all, Wilfrid, and I do not suppose it everwill. Science is all very well when a man can afford to make it hishobby, but I have come to the conclusion that a man has no right to ridea hobby while his family have to work to make a living."
"But we were all glad to work, father," Wilfrid said. "And now I am backagain there is no reason why you should not return to your work."
"No, Wilfrid. I have been selfish a great deal too long, and indeed, nowthat I have broken myself into an active life out of doors, I have atpresent, at anyrate, no inclination to take to the pen again. I feelbetter than I have done for years, and am astonished myself at the workI can get through. As to my appetite, I eat twice as much as I used to,and really enjoy my food. Since the day we heard of the failure of thebank the burden has all been on your shoulders, Wilfrid, and yourmother's. I am going to take my share of it in the future. As to thebook, someone else must write it. I do not suppose it would ever havereally paid. I almost wonder now how I could have thought that I outhere could have derived any satisfaction from knowing that my work waspraised by scientific men at home; besides, to do it properly a man mustlive among the natives, must travel all over the island and gather thetraditions current in every tribe. That I could not do, and if I couldhave no inclination for it. I have been thinking that I shall ask Mr.Atherton to teach me a little botany, so that I can enjoy a little moreintelligently than I can now do the wonders of our forest."
"That I will gladly do, Mr. Renshaw. I am sure it would add greatly tothe enjoyment of your life here to become acquainted with the secrets ofthe marvellous vegetation around. It is extraordinary to me that menshould be content to remain in ignorance of the names of even theprincipal trees and shrubs that meet their eye at every turn. There isnot one settler in a hundred can tell you the names of a score of treesin the island. While I have been away I have tried to get the nativenames of many of the trees that are mostly to be met with, and only inone or two cases could I get any information, although some of thesettlers have been living for years among them."
"And now, Mr. Atherton, about what I was saying just now, do not youthink it would be more pleasant for you to erect a fresh hut close toours instead of living by yourself away in the woods? It would be agreat pleasure to all of us to have you with us. Your society wouldbrighten our life here. We should have the assistance of your rifle incase the natives broke out again. You would, of course, live with us,but you would have your own hut to retire to when you liked to be alone.What do you say?"
"I say that it is a very kind offer, Mr. Renshaw, and it would certainlybe very much more pleasant for me than living out there by myself atthe mercy of a native cook. On the condition that you will allow me topay my share of the expenses of housekeeping I will gladly accept youroffer."
"The expenses of housekeeping are next to nothing, Mr. Atherton," Mrs.Renshaw laughed; "but if you make it a condition we must of course agreeto your terms, and you shall be permitted to pay your quota to theexpenses of the establishment; but I warn you that the amount will notbe a heavy one."
"Heavy or light, I shall be glad to pay it, Mrs. Renshaw. Thearrangement would be a delightful one for me, for although as atraveller I have necessarily been much alone, I am a gregarious animal,and fond of the company of mankind."
And so two days later a party of natives were set to work, and a hut waserected for Mr. Atherton twenty yards away from the house, and was soonfitted up as his other had been. Wilfrid had at once taken up his ownwork at the farm, but was now his father's right hand, instead ofhaving, as before, everything on his shoulders.
The natives in the neighbourhood had now settled down again. From timeto time news came that showed that the Hau-Hau rebellion was almostcrushed. Colonel Whitmore, having finally completely
subdued the Hau-Hautribes in the north of Wellington and Taranaki, had marched with astrong force divided into four columns and severely punished all thetribes that had joined Te Kooti in the north-eastern part of the island.Te Kooti himself, after perpetrating several other massacres ofsettlers, was a fugitive, hotly hunted by Rapata, who gave him no rest,surprising him several times, and exterminating the last remnants ofthe band who had escaped with him from the Chatham Islands. Te Kootihimself was now believed to be hiding somewhere in the Waikato country;but he was no longer dangerous, his schemes had utterly failed, hispretensions had even in the native eyes been altogether discredited, andall who had adhered to him had either been killed or punished by thedestruction of their villages and clearings. There was not the slightestchance that he would ever again trouble the community.
The settlement on the Mohaka river had grown, and in six months afterWilfrid's return the whole of the land lying between the Allens' farmand Mr. Mitford's was taken up, and two or three families had settledbeyond Mr. Atherton's holding. At The Glade everything went onprosperously--the animals multiplied, the crops were excellent, and,owing to the many settlers arriving and requiring food until they couldraise it for themselves, much better prices were obtained for theproduce, and it was no longer necessary to ship it to Napier orWellington.
Although Mr. Atherton had not gone through any such fatigues as thosethat he had endured at Poverty Bay, he had continued steadily todecrease in weight. Feeling himself so much lighter and more active onthe return from the expedition, he had continued to stick to long andregular exercise, and was out every day, with a native to carry his tincollecting-boxes, his presses, axe, and trowel, from breakfast-timeuntil dark. As he steadily refused to take any food with him, and fastedfrom breakfast-time till supper, the prolonged exercise in the closeheat of the woods did its work rapidly, and at the end of a year fromthe date of his taking up his abode at The Glade he could no longer becalled a stout man, and new-comers looked with admiration at his broadshoulders and powerful figure.
"When I first came to New Zealand," he said, "I thought it probable thatI should only stay here a few weeks, or at most a few months, and I hada strong doubt whether it would repay my trouble in coming out here. NowI am sure that it was the very best step I ever took. I weighed theother day at Mitford's, and I did not turn eighteen stone, which isnothing out of the way for a man of my height and size. Last time Iweighed I pulled down six-and-twenty. When I go back to England I shallstick to my two meals a day, and go in regularly for racquets and horseexercise."
"And when is that going to be, Mr. Atherton?" Wilfrid asked.
"I have not settled yet, Wilfrid. I have been longer stationary herethan I have been in any place since I left college. Occasionally I get afit of longing to be back in London again, but it seldom lasts long.However, I suppose I shall yield to it one of these days."
"You are doing very well here, Mr. Atherton. You said only the other daythat your consignment of plants had sold wonderfully, and that youexpected to make nearly a thousand pounds this year."
"That is true enough, Wilfrid; but you see, unfortunately orfortunately, whichever way you like to put it, the thousand pounds areof no importance to me one way or the other. I am really what isgenerally considered to be a rich man, and from the day I left England,now just two years ago, my income has been simply accumulating, forbeyond the two or three pounds a month your mother lets me pay her Ispend absolutely nothing."
"It must be very dull for you here, Mr. Atherton, accustomed as you havebeen to be always either travelling or in London, to be cut off from theworld with only just our society, and that of the Allens and Mitfords,and two or three neighbours."
"I do not look dull, do I, Mrs. Renshaw?" Mr. Atherton laughed.
"No; I have never seen you dull since I knew you, Mr. Atherton, not evenwhen you were toiling along exhausted and worn out with that child onyour shoulders and the weight of the helpless man on your arms. We shallmiss you awfully when you do go; shall we not, Marion?" Marion was nownineteen, and had developed, as Wilfrid told her in some surprise--forbrothers seldom think their sisters good-looking--into a very prettygirl.
"It is not coming just yet," Mr. Atherton said; "but I have, I think,pretty well exhausted the forest for a distance of fifty miles round,and now that things are settling down I shall take more extensive tripsto the mountains in the north-east and the Waikato country, and thestrip of land lying north of Auckland. I have never been absent abovetwo or three days at a time; but in future I may be away for weeks. Butthis will always be my head-quarters, Mrs. Renshaw. You see, yourhusband is becoming a formidable rival of mine here, so I must be off topastures new."
"You know he did not want to send things home, Mr. Atherton. It was onlybecause you insisted that he did so."
"I am very glad that I did insist, Mrs. Renshaw. As you know, I onlywent into the trade of plants to give me something to do on my ramblesbesides looking for new species; but I am sure it has been a capitalthing for him. He has always been accustomed to use his brain, andalthough he now takes a lively interest in farm work, he would in timehave found a certain void if he had not taken up this new hobby. As itis, it gives him plenty of out-door work, and is not only interesting,but pays well; and now that he is thoroughly acquainted with the botanyof this part of the island, and knows which things are worth sendinghome, and the price he can depend upon getting for them, he will make afar larger income out of it than he could do from farming. Wilfrid willbe quite capable of looking after the interests of the farm."
Another year passed. The clearings at The Glade had been greatlyenlarged; but clumps of bush had been judiciously left so as to preserveits sylvan appearance, the long operation of fencing in the wholeproperty had been accomplished, and the number of horses, cattle, andsheep had so increased that the greater part were now sent to graze onMaori land, a small rate per head being paid to the natives. Mr.Atherton had come and gone many times, and had now almost completed hisstudy of the botany of the island. Mr. Renshaw had altogether abandonedthe management of the farm to Wilfrid, and devoted himself entirely tothe collection of ferns, orchids, and other plants, receiving handsomecheques in return for the consignment sent to England by each vesselthat sailed from Wellington or Napier. He had agents at each of thesetowns, who made arrangements with the stewards of the ships for takingcare of the plants on their way home, their remuneration being dependentupon the state in which the consignment arrived in England.
Settlers were now established on both sides of the river for miles aboveThe Glade, and as among these were several who had been officers in thearmy, or professional men who had come out for the benefit of theirfamilies, there was now much cheerful society, and The Glade occupiedthe same leading position in that part of the settlement that Mr.Mitford's had done on the lower river when they first arrived.
James Allen had now been a year married to the eldest of the MissMitfords. His brother had been decidedly refused by Marion when heproposed to her, much to the surprise of her father and mother, who hadseen from the frequent visits of their neighbour during the past yearhow things were going with him, while Wilfrid had been quite indignantat her rejection of his friend.
"Girls are extraordinary creatures," he said to his sister. "I had quitemade up my mind for the last six months that you and Bob were going tomake a match of it, and thought what a jolly thing it would be to haveyou settled next to us. I am sure I do not know what you want more. Youhave known him for three years. He is as steady as possible, and safe toget on well, and as nice a fellow as I know."
"He is all that, Wilfrid, but you see I don't want to marry him. I likehim very much in the same way you like him, but I don't like him wellenough for that."
"Oh, I suppose you want a wandering prince in disguise," Wilfridgrumbled. "That is the way with girls; they always want something thatthey cannot get."
"My dear Wilfrid," Marion said with spirit, "when I take to lecturingyou as to whom you are to marry it will be
quite time for you to take tolecturing me; but until I do I cannot allow that you have any right inthe matter."
It was seldom indeed that brother and sister differed in opinion aboutanything, and seeing a tear in Marion's eye Wilfrid at once gave in andadmitted himself to be wrong.
"Of course it is no business of mine, Marion, and I beg your pardon. Iam sure I should not wish for a moment that you should marry anyone butthe man that you choose for yourself. I should certainly have liked youto have married Bob Allen, but, if you do not fancy him, of course thereis an end of it."
This was not the only offer that Marion had received during the year,for there were several young settlers who would have been glad to haveinstalled her as the mistress of their homesteads; but they had each metwith the same fate that had now befallen Bob Allen.
The next time Mr. Atherton came back he said, "I have taken my lastramble and gathered my last plant."
"What! are you going home?" Mrs. Renshaw exclaimed.
"Yes, I am going home," he said more seriously than he usually spoke. "Ihave been away three years now, and have pretty thoroughly ransacked theisland. I have discovered nearly eighty new species of plants and two orthree entirely new families, so I have done enough for honour; besides,I am wanted at home. An old aunt has died and has left me a considerablesum of money, just because I had plenty of my own before, I suppose. Itis another instance of female perversity. So I have had a letter from mysolicitor saying that I am really wanted; but in any case I should havegone now or in another month or two. I begin to feel that I have hadenough of wandering, and at thirty-eight it is time to settle down ifyou are ever going to do so."
There was a silence round the table as he ceased speaking, for all feltthat the loss would be a serious one, and although Mr. Atherton hadtried to speak lightly they could see that he too felt the approachingend of their close friendship.
"Are you going to start at once?" Mr. Renshaw asked.
"No, I shall give myself a fortnight or three weeks before I sail. Ihave all the plants I gathered this time to dry and prepare properly;besides, I should like a quiet stay with you before I say good-bye. Yousee, I have not seen much of you during the last year."
Nothing further was said on the subject, which none of them liked totouch on. For the next two days the house seemed strangely quiet.
"By the way, what has become of young Allen?" Mr. Atherton said atdinner on the third day. "You told me every one was well, so I supposehe is away from home, as I have not seen him since I came, and he usedto be a very regular visitor." There was a momentary silence and thenMrs. Renshaw said:
"I do not think he is away from home, though he may be, for he wastalking the other day of looking out for a fresh piece of land forhimself. Now that his brother is married I suppose it is only naturalthat he should think of setting up for himself. The farm is of coursetheir joint property, but I suppose they will make some arrangement forhis brother to take over his share."
"Naturally," Mr. Atherton agreed, "young Allen would not care aboutremaining now that his brother is married. When one of two partnersmarries it generally breaks up the partnership, and besides, he will ofcourse be wanting to have a place of his own, and the holding is notlarge enough to divide."
After dinner Wilfrid strolled out with Mr. Atherton.
"I daresay you saw, Mr. Atherton, that your question about Bob Allenfell rather as a bomb-shell among us. There is no reason why you, whoare a great friend, should not know the truth. The fact is, to myastonishment, Marion has thought proper to refuse Bob Allen. I was nevermore surprised in my life. I had always looked upon it as certain thatshe would accept him, especially as she has refused three or four goodoffers this year. One never can understand girls."
Mr. Atherton was silent for a minute or two. Then he said:
"I thought too, Wilfrid, that it would have come off. I have alwaysthought so. Well, well." Then after a pause he went on: "I had intendedto go over in the morning to see him. I like the lad, and had an idea ofoffering to advance him a sum of money to set up in a place of his ownwithout loss of time. Then the young couple would have had a fair startin life without having to wait two or three years or to go through therough work at the first start in a settler's life. The money would ofcourse have been nothing to me, and it would have been satisfactory tohave lent a helping hand towards seeing your sister married and happy.And so she has refused him. Well, I will take a turn by myself,Wilfrid."
And to the young fellow's surprise Mr. Atherton turned off and startedat a brisk pace up the glade.
"He is evidently as vexed at Marion's throwing over Bob Allen as I am,"Wilfrid said to himself as he looked after him. "I wish he would giveher a good talking to, she would think more of his opinion than she doesof mine."
CHAPTER XVIII.
IN ENGLAND.
"I suppose you have not settled yet as to what ship you will return by,Atherton?" Mr. Renshaw asked as the party were gathered in the verandahin the evening.
"No," Mr. Atherton replied, absently watching the smoke of his cigar asit curled up, "nothing is at all settled; my plans seem to be quitevague now."
"What do you mean, Mr. Atherton?" Mrs. Renshaw asked in surprise, forMr. Atherton's plans were generally mapped out very decidedly. "How isit that your plans are vague? I thought you said two days ago that youshould go down to Wellington about the 20th."
"I did not mean to say that they were vague, Mrs. Renshaw; did I reallysay so?"
"Why, of course you did," Mrs. Renshaw said; "and it is not often thatyou are vague about anything."
"That shows that you do not understand my character, Mrs. Renshaw," Mr.Atherton said in his usual careless manner. "I am the vaguest of men--achild of chance, a leaf blown before the wind."
Wilfrid laughed. "It would have taken a very strong wind when we firstknew you."
"I am speaking metaphorically, Wilfrid. I am at London, and the ideaoccurs to me to start for the Amazon and botanize there for a fewmonths. I pack up and start the next morning. I get there and do notlike the place, and say to myself it is too hot here, let me study theArctic flora at Spitzbergen. If I act upon an idea promptly, well andgood, but if I allow any time to elapse between the idea striking me andmy carrying the thing into execution, there is never any saying whetherI may not go off in an entirely different groove during the interval."
"And is there any chance of your going off in any other groove now,Atherton?" Mr. Renshaw asked.
"No, I think not; just a remote possibility perhaps, but not more thanthat. It is so indefinitely small, indeed, that you may--yes, I thinkyou may safely calculate upon my starting on the day I said, or if Ifind a ship at Wellington going on a trading excursion among theislands, or up to the Straits, or to Japan, I may likely enough take apassage in her."
"But I thought you said that your business required you to be at home,Mr. Atherton?"
"Yes, I suppose that is so, Wilfrid; but I daresay my solicitor wouldmanage it just as well if I did not turn up. Solicitors are people who,as far as I can see, consider it their duty to bother you, but if theyfind that you pay no attention to their letters they manage somehow orother to get on very well without you. I believe they go into a courtand make affidavits, and get an order authorizing them to sign for you.I do not know how it generally is done, but that is my experience ofthem so far."
Marion had said little that evening, and had indeed been very quiet forthe last few days. She was somewhat indignant at Wilfrid's interferencein what she considered her affairs, and felt that although her fatherand mother had said nothing, they too were somewhat disappointed, andwould have been glad had she accepted Bob Allen. Besides she had reasonsof her own for being out of spirits. After breakfast the next morningMr. Atherton said: "Marion, when you have finished your domestic dutiesand can be spared, suppose you put on your hat and come for a ramblewith me."
There was nothing unusual in the request, for the girl often accompaniedhim in his rambles when he was not going far into
the forest.
"I shall be ready in half an hour, if your highness can wait so long."
"I am in no hurry, child, and will smoke a pipe on the verandah untilyou are ready."
Marion always enjoyed these walks with Mr. Atherton. He was at all timesa pleasant companion, and when alone with her always exerted himself toamuse her, though he sometimes vexed her by talking to her as if shewere a child. To-day he was much more silent than usual, and more thanonce she looked up in wonder at his face as he walked along puffing athis pipe, with his hands deep in his jacket pockets and his eyes bent onthe ground.
"A penny for your thoughts, Mr. Atherton," she said at last with alaugh. "It seems to me that you would have got on just as well withoutme."
"Well, I was just thinking that I was a fool to ask you to come with me,child." Marion opened her eyes in surprise. "You see, my dear," he wenton, "we all make fools of ourselves sometimes. I started in life bymaking a fool of myself. I fell in love with a woman whom I thoughtperfection. She was an arrant flirt, and was only amusing herself withme till she hooked a young lord for whom she was angling. That was whatsent me roaming for the first time; and, as you know, having oncestarted I have kept it up ever since, that is till I came out here. Ihad intended to stay six months; I have been here three years. Why haveI stopped so long? Simply, child, because I have again made a fool ofmyself. I do not think I was conscious of it for the first two years,and it was only when I saw, as I thought, that young Allen would winyou, that I recognized that I, a man of thirty-seven, was fool enough tolove a child just eighteen years younger than myself. At the same time Iwas not fool enough to think that I had the smallest chance. I could notstop here and watch another winning you, and at the same time I was soweak that I could not go away altogether; and so you see I compromisedmatters by going away for weeks and sometimes months at a time,returning with the expectation each time of hearing that it was settled.Now I hear that you have refused him, and, just as a drowning man graspsat a straw, I resolved to have my fate absolutely settled before I sail.Don't be afraid of saying 'no,' dear. I have never for a moment lookedfor any other answer, but I think that I would rather have the 'no' thango away without it, for in after years I might be fool enough to come tothink that possibly, just possibly, the answer, had I asked thequestion, might have been 'yes.'"
He had stopped in his walk when he began to speak, and stood facingMarion, who had not raised her eyes while he was speaking. Then shelooked frankly up in his face.
"Do you think I did not know," she said softly, "and didn't you reallyknow too? You are not so wise a man as I thought you. Why, ever since Ihave known you it seems to me that--that--"
"That you have loved me, Marion; is it possible?" he said taking herhand.
"Of course it is possible," she said almost pettishly "how could I helpit, I should like to know?"
Dinner had been waiting for some time before Mr. Atherton and hiscompanion returned from their ramble.
"Twenty minutes late!" Wilfrid shouted as they approached the house;"have you been losing yourselves in the bush?"
"I think that it has been just the other way, Wilfrid," Mr. Athertonsaid as he came up to the group gathered in the verandah.
"How do you mean?" Wilfrid asked.
"I mean we have been finding each other."
"Finding each other," Wilfrid repeated vaguely. "Why, were you bothlost?"
"I was, Wilfrid. Mrs. Renshaw, I have found your daughter, and am going,with your permission and that of her father, to keep her. I am a goodbit older than she is, but as she says she does not mind that, I hopethat you will not, and at least I can promise to do all in my power tomake her happy."
"I am surprised, Mr. Atherton; surprised and glad too," Mrs. Renshawsaid, while Mr. Renshaw grasped Mr. Atherton's hand and shook itheartily.
"My dear sir, there is no one in the world to whom I could intrustMarion's happiness so gladly and heartily. I own that it is a surpriseto me, as well as to her mother, but we are both delighted at the choiceshe has made."
By this time Marion and her mother had gone indoors together. Wilfridhad not yet spoken, his surprise was still too great for words.
"Well, Wilfrid," Mr. Atherton said, turning to him, "I hope yourdisapproval of Marion's conduct on this occasion is not so great as itwas when you were talking to me yesterday."
"I hardly know what to say yet, you have taken me so by surprise; but Iam awfully glad--you know that, don't you? There is no one in the worldI should like Marion to marry so much, only somehow it never occurred tome."
"That is natural enough, Wilfrid. However, now that it has occurred toyou, and you approve of it, we must hope that Marion will be restored toyour good graces again."
"I have been making an ass of myself," Wilfrid said penitently; "but youbelieve that I am awfully glad, don't you? I was disappointed about Bob,but then, you see, I never thought about you. Why, you must know, Mr.Atherton, what I think of you and how I care for you, and how I look upto you. Somehow it never seemed possible to me that a man like you couldfall in love."
"And much more improbable still, Wilfrid, that your sister would fall inlove with me. I understand you, lad. We have been very close friends forthe last three years, haven't we? I have been something like a very bigand very old brother to you, and now we are going to be brothers inearnest;" and their hands closed in a grip that spoke volumes for thesincerity and depth of their feelings. Then Wilfrid ran into the houseand threw his arms round his sister.
"I have been an awful fool, Marion," he said; "but you see, I neverdreamt of this."
"And you are really pleased, Wilfrid?"
"Pleased! I am delighted. Why, you know, I think he is the finest fellowin the world; and has he not done everything for us, and stood by meand nursed me, and carried me for miles, and saved mother's life andmine? But it never entered my mind that you had fallen in love with eachother."
"I do not know why it shouldn't, Wilfrid. Why shouldn't I think as muchof him as you do?"
"I do not know, I am sure, Marion; but I confess I never did think ofit. Did you, mother?"
"Once or twice, Wilfrid. About a year ago it did cross my mind once ortwice, but that was all. They say mothers are keen-sighted as far astheir daughters are concerned; but either I am less keen-sighted thanmothers in general, or Marion is deeper than other girls."
"Well, mother, we shall have lots of time to talk this over," Wilfridsaid. "Dinner has been waiting nearly an hour, and even this wonderfulbusiness cannot have taken away all our appetites. Everything is ready;shall I call them in?" Wilfrid had, however, still a few minutes towait, for the two men were engaged in earnest conversation outside.
When they came in at last Mr. Renshaw kissed his daughter fondly. "Godbless you, my child!" he said. "You have made a wise choice indeed, andI am sure that you will be a very happy woman."
It was a quiet meal, for all were too happy to talk much. After it wasover the two men strolled out together and renewed their conversation,and Mr. Renshaw presently called to his wife to join them. Marion hadgone to her room, and Wilfrid was about to start to the other end of thefarm when Mr. Atherton called him.
"Come and join our consultation, Wilfrid. You are as much concerned init as any of us, and I rely upon your assistance to bring round thesetwo very obstinate people to my side of the question. I should say ourside, for of course Marion is one with me in the matter. You see, I am arich man, Wilfrid--really a rich man, and I naturally wish that Marionshould be made as happy as possible. I do not think she would be ashappy as possible if she were in England with me, with a nice place inthe country, and a town-house, and most things that money could bringher, if she knew that her father and mother were out here living a lifewhich, although they have admirably adapted themselves to it, is yetvery different to that to which they have been all their livesaccustomed.
"Now, owing to this absurd freak of my aunt in making me her heir whenmy income was already five times as much as I could spend, I ha
ve thenuisance of a large landed estate on my hands. There is a large houseupon it which I suppose Marion and I will have to occupy occasionally;and there is another house, which is known as the dower house, and whichis a very snug and comfortable abode. Now, it is quite clear that I amthe last sort of man to look after an estate. It would worry me most outof my mind, and would be a perpetual annoyance.
"What I propose is that your father and mother shall come home and takepossession of the dower house, and that your father should act as myagent. Living on the spot, he would be able to keep an eye on thetenants, receive rents, and that sort of thing, and still be able todevote a considerable portion of his time to his favourite pursuits. Ishould have the advantage of having an agent I could absolutely relyupon, and Marion and I would have the comfort of having her father andmother close at hand. It would be a little lonely for you for a bit,Wilfrid; but you are nearly nineteen now, and will, unless I ammistaken, ere many years have passed be bringing a mistress to TheGlade. I fancy you go over to Mitford's a good deal oftener than thereis any absolute occasion for, and although Kate is only sixteen yet, Ihave a shrewd suspicion that you have both pretty well made up yourminds about the future."
Wilfrid coloured and laughed. "I don't know that we are as far advancedas that; but I do hope that some day it may be as you say. But aboutthis other affair. What do my father and mother say? It seems to me itwould be a splendid arrangement."
"Of course it would, Wilfrid; a splendid arrangement, for Marion and meespecially. That is what I am trying to persuade them; but your motherhas developed quite a new line of obstinacy, and your father is just asbad."
"Don't you see, Wilfrid," Mrs. Renshaw said with tears in her eyes, "itis only an excuse on Mr. Atherton's--"
"Harry, my dear madam, Harry," Mr. Atherton interrupted. "We havearranged it is to be Harry in future."
"On Harry's part," Mrs. Renshaw went on, "to provide an income for us."
"But I have got to provide an income for someone," Mr. Atherton said."There must be an agent to look after the property for me; necessarilythat agent must have a salary; and why in the name of good sense shouldnot your husband be that agent as well as anyone else?"
"But you are offering a great deal too high a salary," Mr. Renshawurged. "You could get an excellent agent for less than half the sum youare talking about."
"Not at all," Mr. Atherton replied; "I must have a gentleman, both formy own sake and that of the tenants, and to get a gentleman of highcharacter and perfectly trustworthy, I must necessarily pay him a goodsalary. I shall be a good deal in town, and my representative musttherefore be able to occupy a good position in the county; besides, as Ihave told you, my income now, with this absurd addition, amounts tosomething like six thousand a year. Why, in the name of goodness, shouldI not be allowed, if I choose, to pay two or three hundred a year overmarket price to my agent when it will afford my wife the gratificationof having her parents near her, and me the pleasure of having two dearfriends as my next neighbours. Besides, The Glade will not be a bit toolarge for you when you marry, Wilfrid, and in that case either you willhave to start in a fresh place and begin all your work over again, oryour father would have to turn out to make room for you. I consider itpreposterous. What do you say, Wilfrid?"
"I do think it would be a splendid arrangement, mother," Wilfridanswered. "You know well enough that I shall be very sorry to lose youand father; but it would be awfully nice for Marion, and I do think thatthough, as Mr. Atherton says, you and father have fallen in splendidlywith your life here, the other would be in every way better suited toyou. I can understand your feelings in the matter; but the same time Ithink that after Mr. Atherton having saved your life and mine, hisfeelings and wishes should influence you very much."
"If you hesitate any longer," Mr. Atherton said, "I shall go in andfetch Marion out. I have not told her about my plan yet, for in fact wehad other things to talk about; but when I tell her, and she adds hervoice to ours, I am sure you will not be able to refuse any longer."
Mrs. Renshaw exchanged a look with her husband. "It is not necessary,"she said in a broken voice. "We accept, Harry."
"That is right," Mr. Atherton said as he wrung Mr. Renshaw's handwarmly, and then affectionately kissed Mrs. Renshaw. "Now we are goingto be a very happy and united family. Now, go in and tell Marion."
"Tell her yourself," Mrs. Renshaw smiled, wiping her eyes; and Mr.Atherton took his way to the house.
Marion was indeed delighted with the news. The thought of leaving hermother and father behind had been the one drawback to her happiness. Shehad been her mother's right hand and her father's companion. She hadthought how terribly they would miss her, and how, as years went on,they would, far more than now, feel the difference between their presentlife and that they had formerly led. The news that they would be alwaysnear her and settled in a comfortable home filled her with delight. Afew minutes after Mr. Atherton entered the house she ran out to herfather and mother and threw her arms fondly around them. "Is it nothappiness, mother," she cried, "to think that we shall still betogether?"
"If you are not a happy woman, child, it will be your own fault," herfather said. "I consider you a marvellously lucky girl."
"As if I did not know that!" she replied, laughing through her tears.
Mr. Atherton did not sail quite so soon as he had intended. A church hadrecently been erected at the central settlement, and a clergymanestablished there, and a month after matters were settled between himand Marion their wedding was celebrated, almost every settler on theMohaka being present. The newly-married couple returned to The Glade fora week, Mr. and Mrs. Renshaw and Wilfrid remaining as the guests of Mr.Mitford. At the end of that time they returned, and with Mr. and Mrs.Renshaw sailed for Napier, where they took ship for England.
"What would you have done if I had sailed away for England without evermustering up courage to speak to you, Marion?" Mr. Atherton said as hestood by the bulwark with her that evening taking their last look at NewZealand.
"I should not have let you go, sir," his wife said saucily; "didn't Iknow that you cared for me, and had I not refused all sorts of offersfor your sake? I don't know what I should have done, or what I shouldhave said, but I am quite sure I should not have let you go unless Ifound that I had been making a mistake all along. It would have beenridiculous indeed to have sacrificed the happiness of two lives merelybecause you had some absurd ideas about your age."
"I never thought you cared for me, Marion, never."
"That is because you never took the trouble to find out," his wiferetorted. "Men are foolish creatures sometimes, even the wisest ofthem."
Marion Atherton's life was one of almost perfect happiness. Mr. Athertonentirely gave up his wanderings abroad, and by dint of devotion toracquets and tennis in summer, and of hunting and shooting in winter, hekept down his tendency towards corpulence. He was an energeticmagistrate, and one of the most popular men in the county. Mr. Renshawresumed his former studies in archaeology, but they were now theamusement instead of being the object of his life, and he made anexcellent agent to his son-in-law. Standing in the relation he did toMr. and Mrs. Atherton, he and Mrs. Renshaw shared in their popularity,and occupied a good position in the county.
Three years after their return to England they received the news thatKate Mitford had changed her name, and was installed as mistress at TheGlade. Every five years Wilfrid and his wife, and as time went on hisfamily, paid a visit to England. He became one of the leading men of thecolony. A few years after his marriage Mr. and Mrs. Mitford had returnedto England for good, and James Allen and Wilfrid succeeded to hisbusiness as a trader, and carried it on with energy and success, Mr.Atherton advancing Wilfrid sufficient capital to enable them to extendtheir business largely. In time The Glade became Wilfrid's summerresidence only, the head-quarters of the firm being established atNapier. It is now conducted by his sons, he himself having returned homewith his wife and daughters with a fortune amply sufficient to enablethem to live
at ease. Marion was pleased when, two years after herarrival in England, she heard from Wilfrid that Bob Allen had marriedthe daughter of an officer settled on the Mohaka. The Grimstones bothdid well, and became prosperous farmers. Jack remained in Wilfrid'sservice until he left the colony, and is now a trusted agent of his sonsin their dealings with the natives.
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PRINTED AND BOUND IN GREAT BRITAIN
_By Blackie & Son, Limited, Glasgow_