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"For Father's Sake," or A Tale of New Zealand Life

Chapter VII

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Chapter VII.

Clang, clang, clang. Clearly on the crisp midnight air rang out the alarm of fire. Heaven help the poor people whose property is being destroyed.

A young man raises his head and listens. "It is at the other end of the town," he mutters. "I'll not bother," and he sinks back into his former position. But clang, clang, it goes again. At last shaking off the lethargy into which he had fallen, he stepped out into the open air. The night air cooled his heated brow, and gave vigour to his steps. He was walking quickly along the pavement when he was accosted by a familiar voice, and he paused.

"Ah! Enswav! So you came out after all. I knew you could not stay indoors a whole evening. Young fellows are not rats".

"I am going to see the fire," said the young man shortly.

"So am I; but we are rather late in the day, or at least in the night. However, if we don't see one fire, we will see another."

"Look here, Maurice," Enswav shook off the hand his friend had placed on his arm. "Look here, Maurice, you have played with me long enough. I have been your dupe for the last time. Go and ravish your charms on some one else; this child has had enough."

The two friends walked on in silence. It was dark or you would have seen a peculiar smile lurking about the corners of Albert Maurice's mouth. They reached the page 63scene of the fire, and stood for a few minutes gazing at it. The fire was almost extinguished, but the sooty firemen were still at their noble employment. The long black hose lay across the white street. The water rained thick and fast upon the smouldering mass; and in the hands of those diligent men those thread-like showers played, with sure force and subsequent victory, against the powers of flame. How much gratitude a town owes to its firemen, no one ever takes the trouble to think.

"Well, we have come a long way for nothing. I am going to get something to repay my trouble. Of course you will return home since 'you have had enough.'" Albert Maurice turned away and walked leisurely down the road; the same peculiar smile hovering around his lips. Weak and easily led, Enswav followed. Not a word passed between them until they stood before the Masonic Hotel. How bright the lights within; how dull the darkness without. Why stand ye here a-gazing when ye might enter in? Life is short and fleeting, its depressions are not for man. Seek happy oblivion in the wine-cup and the brawl. The temptation was too strong. Iwand Enswav entered, and there was a repetition of what had so often occurred before. The early hours of morning saw him reeling home, supported by the too friendly arms of Maurice.

"We won't go home till morning, we won't go home till morning. Jove! Maurice, what will your girl say about this. I dreamt I lived in marble halls." These and similar expressions were uttered in thick gutteral tones.

"Shut up, Enswav. You will waken the whole neighbourhood with your confounded row. Come home quietly like a respectable citizen."

They reached Enswav's lodgings. Albert Maurice opened the door and pushed his friend in. Before closing it, however, he paused to utter a parting word.

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"Have an hours' sleep old boy. Dream of your Bonsby girl. It will clear your brains. Ta-ta." And with a scornful laugh Maurice turned away. "What a simpleton Enswav is," he muttered. "Rub him up with a little butter, and he can be turned into any shape. Fool! Well, well. The world is the world you know. Every man for himself. The weak must give way to the strong. Besides, there is the contract." The scornful smile died away at these last words, and the face was full of thought.

The weak must give way to the strong. Yes, Albert Maurice, the weak does give way to ths strong; but not the weakness of man's discernment. Take care that you do not confound the two. Before long you too will learn that lesson of cedence, to your sorrow. You pride yourself on your strength now. You scorn your fellow man's weakness. You are exalted because you do not feel the fire of intoxication; because, among so many of your companions, you alone are cool and can keep your wits about you. Fool! thine is a psuedo strength waiting for the divulgence of time. The day is not far distant when the spirits of those whom you have helped to ruin will rise up and demand reparation. Think you they will be satisfied with the excuse, "Every man for himself?" They need a better reason; for on that princpal you would not be enjoying the blessings you so ruthlessly abuse. I have heard men say, "Let us sow our wild oats now, we will settle down by and by." Who has ever been able to do that wonderful piece of work? I have never known, and neither have you, of a man sowing tares and reaping barley. Pointing to the public house and to your lodgings, you contrast the dulness of the one, with the life, the excitement, the companionship, of the other. There would be an excuse in that, but for the easy access into more congenial enjoyments. Or, again, you try to hush the voice of your con-page 65science by laying the blame on us. "If you put such temptation in our way, who is to blame for our fall!" If you entered into that temptation alone, and without warning; then we would be to blame for your fall. But as you do not, as you are warned night and day by the fall of others, and as you never enter but with your arm linked in that of a weaker brother; therefore, you yourself are to blame. More! you are to answer not only for yourself, but also for your brother; and the excuse you have given, you have stolen from him. His weak character could hardly stand against two such powerful allies as your influence and that of the drink. As for you, who would deliberately destroy your companion, nay, rather your fellow man, for companion means friend, and you are his enemy; as for you, we leave your case with a higher Judge.

We do indeed grieve to know that such places are permitted to remain and flourish in our free country; tarnishing its proud name, and building their foundations on the lives and souls of our children. But what can we do? Wait and hope, that is all. While every day our hearts are filled with sorrow at the sound of the mother's pleadings and the sight of the wife's tears. O, men of power, men, that by your position proclaim to the world your desire to love and serve your country, do you not hear our lamentations and weeping over those who are not? You must, you are not deaf. With intellects capable of inventing schemes for the physical improvement of our islands; we cannot but believe that the moral improvement of our people occupies its place in those intellectual capacities.

The revenues of this drink traffic appear to be enormous, but then do you think good can possibly come by winking at evil? You love your country; you value its freedom; you are proud to know that the air you breathe is un-page 66polluted by ages of crime and oppression. But think of your children's children; remember your great grandfathers; then turn and look at yourselves. You stand between the ages as it were, and the honour of laying the foundation of a free race is in your hands. How are you laying that foundation? Are you profiting by the failure of your ancestors? The privileges you enjoy in this new land, your forefathers also enjoyed and abused in the old land. You fled from the weight of accumulated neglect. Is the same fate to follow the steps of your great grandchildren? Must they, because of their parents blindness and selfishness, flee from their homes and seek freedom elsewhere? In another New Zealand may be? No! No! We are parents, and it is our duty to provide for the future welfare of our children, Let the gold go. With the loss of gold, there will be the loss of vice, and "Virtue will bring its own reward." Men, your weaker sex, kneel to you. By your manhood protect them. Cast out this evil from among you, and do not break their hearts by your dissipations. Day after day they try to love you, but when respect begins to totter, what is the use of love? Understand, it is by relinquishing the wine cup that you protect them, for you prevent their hearts from being broken by the keeping of their respect for you. I know there are many women who themselves try to banish this drink; who seek by their own arbitrary power to wrestle from your hands the keys of the wine cellar, and to hurl the wine bottles into the moat of destruction. But there are still some few remaining who are true to their womanhood, and who keep faith in your manhood. There are still some who would put, and who do put their hands into that of their husbands, and looking up into his face, ask that for their sakes, that loved one would destroy those wine bottles himself. By the very power of that mutual love we know the request will be granted.

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Rousing himself from the stupor into which he had fallen Enswav hurriedly dressed himself. His head was in a whirl, and his whole body racked with pain. "I shall have to go; but I am not fit for much work to day," thought he, as he turned to look at his face in the glass. "I'm in for another sermon; the boss will know by that face where I was last night." He was late at the office. The foreman asked his reason; there was none to give, save that he overslept himself. He was ordered to his place with this solemn warning. "Young man, you had better not let this occur to often. I tell you for your own sake. Break with your companions, or we will have to break with you."

Iwand Enswav resumed his work. For hours his pen flew over the paper. The foreman passed several times, but unheeding his presence, the pen flew on. Sheet after sheet of paper passed through those flying fingers. The head was never raised, except to collect fresh paper, or to sort the written ones. Twelve o'clock struck. One o'clock struck. A hand was laid on the young man's shoulder. With a start he looked up.

"It is long past your lunch hour Enswav. Why man you are all of a tremble. You are doing too much. Go to my office. You will find something there that will warm you up." The voice of the master was kind, and his intentions were good, but Iwand declined the offer.

"Thank you," was all he said, as he reached down his hat and stepped out into the dusty street. The air did little towards soothing his aching brow. O, how he longed for an hour's quiet country purity. He even looked across at the brown fern clad hills, a thing he had not done for many months past.

Entering the nearest restaurant he ordered a cup of tea. When the steaming cup was brought to him, a quiet smile curled his lips.

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"The first cup of tea I have had for luncheon for goodness knows when. I wonder why home memories crowd into a fellow's brain all at one time. A week ago I would have knocked any one down if they dared to say I was home sick." Musing thus he swallowed down his tea, and returning to the office, recommenced his work with the same lightning speed.

"What a pity that young man is not more steady. He has the makings of a smart business man if he would only keep away from the drink," said Mr. Graham to his foreman, as he stood for a few minutes contemplating the quiet figure bent over his desk.

"Yes! He does twice as much as any of the others, and then his work is always so neatly done."

"All that I own. I am only afraid his dissipating habits might lead him beyond himself. I don't want to part with him, but if he does not draw in his horns soon, something will have to be done. I shall speak to him to-night."

The master passed into his private office, poured out a glass of "something that would warm him up," drank it off, and replaced his empty glass. "Grand stuff that. Get some more when it is done. May keeps the best whisky after all," then the would-be servant saviour sat down to examine his books.

Oh! you hypocrite. The evil resulting from intemperance is to be recited by such as you. You are going to reform a fellow-man. How dare you mock your manhood, and turn truth to shame. Half-an-hour ago you tried to lure a young man into your den to partake in company with yourself, of that accursed cup; and while you held out the sparkling wine, you intended to read him a moral lecture upon the folly of accepting your gift. Strange kind of reformer; pity all were not like you. Reformation would then be confounded with revolution.

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But what were the thoughts that were passing through that young man's mind during the whole of that day? Why was he so strangely active mechanically and mentally; so strangely inactive concerning outward influences?

Sweet and sad and far away sounded the words of a once forgotten refrain: "Good-bye, dear, dear Iwand." Over the years of his misspent life those sweet words floated, until at last they stood at the portals of his heart; there they knocked and knocked, and when he refused them admittance, they knocked again. "Why come ye here to mock me in this my hour of need? Away! and let me bear this degredation alone." But the gentle knocking continued, and the gentle voice replied, "It is not sufficient that we stand outside and speak. You must open and let us in."

Then the young penitent threw open his conscience portals, and the sweet words floated in to the inner chambers of his heart. Onward and upward they passed, filling every room with their pure, simple melody, entering into every dusty corner, stirring up every sleepy inhabitant. The bats and the owls that had taken up their lodgings beneath the eaves of that neglected ruin, were startled at the unfamiliar sound, and flew away; while at the same time their hasty flight shook from the crumbling walls, their lichen abodes. The sun of a new formed resolution shone on those walls, now cleared of their mouldering parasites; and already steps were being taken for the re-building of that ruined temple.

The hour of closing arrived. In the same mechanical way the young clerk rose, wiped his pen, crushed the few remaining papers in his desk, locked down the lid, and turned his steps to his dull quiet lodgings.

"What's up with Enswav to-night? He looks jolly seedy," exclaimed one of his fellow-lodgers to another, as page 70with a short nod Iwand passed the two friends standing on the door step, and entered his room.

"Got the blue devils. He was going the pace last night. Some men are soft;" and with a contemptuous nod, they dismissed their companion from their thonghts.

Iwand Enswav stood for a few minutes gazing into vacancy, unconsciously his fingers began trifling with his watch chain. The chain got entangled with a button. He looked down to disentangle it. His eyes fell upon the pendent. What was in that little locket to cause such an out burst of emotion? Only a tiny curl of soft dark hair, tied with a bit of silk. Like the billowy waves of an angry sea, thought after thought surged through his awakening brain. The sudden furious out burst almost overwhelmed him, and flinging himself into a seat, he buried his face in his hands. "My God! What a terrible gulf lies between us. Spare me a little longer to redeem myself. Keep the knowledge of mis-spent life from her. Let her believe me faithful still." Then the picture of a sweet face, with innocent love lit eyes; of clinging trustful arms around his neck, of quiet firm words. "I shall remember you because I love you;" floated before his mind. For hours he sat there dead to all around; life betrayed only by the heaving of his breast. At length he arose, and stretched his cramped limbs. In his eyes shone a clear bright light, on his close set lips rested an expresion of settled determination. "Yes. I will take master's advice and settle down. A wife will keep me straight. Dear little Lyly;" he smiled in a patronizing way. Poor little thing, how she loves me. "I must be careful though; she is a strange girl."

Writing paper appeared. Ink appeared. Pen appeared. A wonderful letter was to be written. Great things were to be done. A mighty start was made. Flourish—dash—page 71pause—then a blot. Away goes that sheet of paper. Out comes another. Flourish—dash—pause—then a smear. That sheet of paper follows its predecessor And so on, until every piece is spoiled, and the ink splashed all over the desk. Oh, it is one thing to fill quire after quire of paper with commercial writing; but it is another to fill half a line with emotional writing. This Iwand learned that night. "Confound it. There, I have wasted all my paper. Who would have thought my pen would fail me just at this crisis."

But the next night was set aside for the important task, and the next night it was completed. The stationer got rid of two shillings worth of writing paper through that first failure, and I dare say, if he knew the in's and out's of the circumstances, he would advise everybody to write their proposals. It is a capital thing for trade.

"There," muttered Iwand, to himself, as he inscribed the address, and stamped the corner of the envelope. "There, if that isn't the most unselfish piece of business I'll eat my hat. I ought to get an answer this day week; but I'll allow a fortnight. I'll not go out one evening during that time. I am sure dear old Lyl would believe my word against the whole world. How easily women are won. Let them see you care for them, and they are yours through life and death."

Iwand went to bed that night thinking himself the most unselfish of mortals, and congratulating himself upon having won the love of a sweet country girl. Ah! Iwand Enswav. You are not the only one who has such thoughts. Women are not so easily won as you imagine. Neither are they so easily deceived. Not that wrong-doings rise or fall in their estimation. It is the deception that adds to the weight. Do not think love is blind. It's eyes are always open and shining, like those of Juno. The ancients must page 72have recognized this truth else, why should they ascribe to Juno, as indicating her watchfulness, the stars as eyes. Rest in your self-confidence, Iwand. 'Tis well to rest. And to such as thee, to whom it has been a stranger so long, rest becomes doubly beneficial. But know that character varies in woman-kind. Tenderness is not weakness. Prior preference is not easy preference. Intemperance, dark as it is, and direful enough to sever two links, is not the only evil to be feared; has not the prerogative of annihilation.

Simple little Lyly may be able to read between the lines: possibly over the hedge of outward dissipation, into the field of inner character. She might, discover that that hedge, so thick and inaccessible on the outside, has holes on the inside; and that, by reason of the dead twigs lying about, and the yellow leaves clinging to the branches, the longevity of that growth is but a few years. While in the inner field of character she might discover deep sloughs which would never, as far as she was concerned, be crossed. Weeks passed, and no letter came. Iwand grew impatient.

"I shall let Mur into the secret. She will work the oracle. Trust a sisters discretion." And into the secret Mur was let, for Iwand posted a letter to his sister, to which he received an immediate answer. But it was a very unsatisfactory answer. It was a tantalizing answer—an answer he could make nothing of.

"Nellie is still at home," wrote his sister. "But I see very little of her. She never comes to see us now. Her father sold his station some time ago, and at present he is living in town. I believe the family is going to move, for Mr. Main told father that he, being used to the country air, felt choked with the town dust. If they do I shall see less of Nellie than ever. People say Mr. Main is very strict with his daughters, and will not let them enter into page 73society. It is the old Scotch teaching I believe. I know we have grown tired of asking Nellie to join in our amusements, for our invitations are always declined with thanks. However, I shall make it my business to call upon Nellie, as soon as possible, and shall do what I can for you, my poor love sick brother."

Poor harmless inoffensive letter. It went flying across the room, it landed in a corner, and there stood with its face to the wall. I wonder if it repented of its misdeeds.

One good came of this little episode, however; Iwand Enswav was not seen so often at the mouth of the demon's den, or at the billiard precipice. Those few weeks self-restraint showed him he could do without that "something that would warm him up."