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Hedged with Divinities

VII

page 46

VII.

It was a bright sunny day in the little clearing where stood the Humming-House. The buzzing, however, was heard no longer; all was silent except the healthful noise of living creatures rustling in the thicket and chirping in the boughs, the voices of bird and insect. The door of the building was open, and part of the roof had fallen in. More overgrown than ever was the clearing, for the row of sticks which composed the low fence was hidden by the long coarse grass, which now grew right up to the walls of the house.

The air was full of the warmth of summer, but every now and then clouds drifted in from the sea and obscured the sunlight. When the rays gleamed through the trees and lighted up the edges of the fern, the cicadas raised their shrill notes, the fantails danced up and down among the shrubs, and the soft cooing notes of the wood pigeons echoed among the higher boughs.

There was a movement among the creepers veiling the face of the cliff, and then slowly, walking like a man in a dream, shading his eyes that they might bear the daylight, appeared the form of Jack Wallace. It was evident that the scene was entirely new to him, and that his mental attitude was that of deep wonder as page 47to Ms whereabouts. He advanced and looked at the dilapidated building, and said aloud-to himself:

"That can't be the 'Hamming-House' the old man spoke of; it is as quiet as death."

Then perceiving the overgrown path leading down the ridge he pushed his way through the tangle of shrubs and parasites, little thinking that the feet of Nelly had once preceded him in the way he pursued. Suddenly, as the forest grew thinner, through the leaves he caught a glimpse of the deep blue sea and white strand below. Anxious to escape from the overpowering solitude he quickened his steps and soon reached the margin of the tide and the little sandy flat that had been the scene of his adventure. There was no sail on the water or footmark on the shore; so he resolved to go to the little Maori settlement to get a canoe wherein to cross to Mrs. Farrell's farm. Visions of the joy wherewith Nelly would receive him were curiously and unromantically mixed with base cravings for "a good square meal," for the feeling of hunger within was beginning to be ravenous. Passing a clump of large trees standing in marshy ground he saw that their trunks, swathed with green parasitic plants, were dappled with large white flowers of the Kie-kie. The blossoms, which look like large water-lilies, have thick, fleshy petals, of a fragrant, sugary taste, and when found are eaten greedily by natives and white people alike.

"I wonder my young Maori friends have left so many of you to ripen there," said Jack. "But perhaps they are on tapu ground. Come what may, I must have something to eat,"

Climbing by aid of the creepers, he soon had some of the flowers broken off, and flinging them to the ground he stayed his hunger with the odorous food, Refreshed page 48and strengthened he resumed his journey, but the day was gradually darkening with storm, and before he reached the native village rain had began to fall, wetting his thin garments through and through. As he approached the settlement he missed the usual chorus of barking dogs and the shout of welcome to the stranger. He entered between the carved posts of the gateway, and stood in the small square space around which the houses and raised food-stores were scattered. All was still and quiet. The place seemed utterly deserted, the doors of the houses closed; not a sound or glimpse of humanity were apparent to the senses. Moreover, it was evidently some time since any human foot had disturbed the loneliness of the scene. Weeds were springing up between the houses, and everything wore an air of neglect and abandonment.

Jack called aloud several times, but in a half-hearted and hopeless manner, for it was evident before he did so that there would be no response—and there was none, He then went down to the beach where, within the mouth of a small creek, the canoes of the tribe were generally moored. No canoe or boat of any kind was to be seen. He sat down and rested awhile, considering his best course of action. It was a long road round the head of the bay, but there seemed no help for it but in the strength of his own legs; the water was too wide to swim across, and he had an uneasy feeling at the thought of trusting himself to the salt water and its fierce inhabitants after his late adventure. He made up his mind for the rough walk by which he must head the bay and get round to Glenfern, the home of his Nell. Resolutely he started off, and mile after mile was put behind him till, late in the afternoon, he began to go slowly, for his unshod feet were tender.

page 49

As he entered the home-paddock he noticed that the fences were broken here and there, and he made mental resolutions that the next day he would go round with one of the farm-hands and repair the carelessness that was damaging the property. Suddenly on his ear broke an angry roar, and he found facing him a young bull striking the ground with a fore-hoof, and tossing his head from side to side. Behind the bull were half-a-dozen wild-looking heifers, swaying their heads and crowding up close to their lord. Jack stopped a moment in dismay, knowing that it would be death to turn and run, and perhaps death to advance; but the bull solved the difficulty by wheeling, and with another note of defiance from his deep throat, dashed off toward the bush with his companions, the sunshine glittering from their sleek hides, while the rush was hastened by a shout from the man.

Nothing now appeared strange to him. He seemed walking in a dream through some familiar-unfamiliar place, and yet with the constant expectation of seeing a graceful white-robed figure run out from the shadow of the verandah and give him a lover's greeting. But no one appeared — the house was as still as the Maori village. He pushed open the garden wicket, and by a path which skirted the side of the house, approached the door, but with difficulty, for, from the trellised arches overhead hung long-neglected sprays of sharp-thorned roses, matted and clinging in riotous luxuriance.

"My Nelly's roses have run wild while I have been ill," said the bewildered Jack. "The old man called me a child of the fairy-race; I feel like the Fairy Prince in the old Sleeping Beauty story, pushing my way into the enchanted castle. I hope my sleeping beauty will awake to my kiss.

page 50

He reached the door and knocked loudly, without answer. He knocked again and again, till the echo reverberated as from a great drum. At last he assumed the privilege of a guest, so, forcing open one of the French windows that opened on the verandah, he entered the drawing-room. Everything in the pretty room was exactly as he remembered seeing it last, save that a thick coating of dust obscured the surfaces of the chairs and tables, and lay heavy on the ornaments scattered about the apartment.

Jack sank upon a couch and covered his face with his hands. "Surely," he said, "I am possessed of an evil spirit. Or am I Rip Van Winkle himself come back after a sleep of half a century? That must be it. I must be an old man. Let me see myself in the glass."

Timidly he approached one of the mirrors, and dusting its surface with his handkerchief, looked at the reflection of himself. Certainly not Rip Van Winkle! There stood a young and strikingly handsome man, slightly thinner than the old self, and with a little more hair in the short, curling beard, but the same man undoubtedly.

"That's something," he said; I am not a dotard yet; I haven't lost all the summer of life, nor been turned into one of Circe's swine. But where is my Nelly, and where is her mother?"

He seemed to shrink awhile from going further, and began to run over all possible chances. A thought paled his cheek.

"Can the place have been swept by bushrangers or by some enemy?" he meditated. "Yet there is no disorder—no signs of struggle—no overturned furniture. But the tragedy might not have been in this room. Oh, heaven! support me in my trouble! What is there in this silent house?"

page 51

He rose, and went into the dining-room. On the table the cloth was laid; plates, knives and forks about the table as though the last occupants had partaken of a meal. In the kitchen nothing was wanting or out of place. He opened the doors of the bedroom; the beds were undisturbed. His own room was as he had left it. Then he went to Nelly's room, her own sacred little retreat. He paused a moment, and yet another, before he turned the handle of the door. He was frightened. Take care, Jack! lest unwittingly you come upon that which may freeze your heart for ever.

Reverently, with shaking fingers, he opened the door and entered. Empty of life or human relict was the bedroom. Nelly's dresses were hanging up; her dainty slippers standing by the dressing-table. With a sadlybeating heart he stooped and lifted a little shoe to his lips, and then gently touched the pillows on which her bright head had once rested. Then he went out, and unlocking the outer door of the kitchen, walked through the empty stables. As he returned he heard a sharp succession of barks and snarls, and was confronted with a collie slut having six or seven half-grown pups around her. "Rej!" he called joyfully. "Rej! Rej!" It was Regina, Nelly's favorite dog. The pups dashed away barking and wild with fear; but Rej, after staring a moment in astonishment, bounded forward, and with snake-like undulations of her body, evincing at once her fear and affectionate delight, crawled to his feet.

"Oh, you blessed dog!" said Jack; "Oh, you blessed living pet. Tell me where is your mistress?"

He threw his arms round the dog's ruff, and hugged it in passionate delight — in a perfect ecstasy to find something at last to speak to. The dog licked the man's page 52face and hands, glancing wistfully from him to her yelping children, but finally elected to come with him awhile. Jack returned to the kitchen, and seeing the dishes ranged along the shelves suddenly remembered how hungry he was.

"If I am going to solve this mystery," he said, "I must have something to eat."

So saying, he proceed to explore the store-room and pantry. The departure of the inmates had evidently been sudden, for the store-room was well supplied. There was no bread or meat, of course, but there was flour in an earthen jar, sugar in another, biscuits and tea in sealed tins. With these materials Jack went to the kitchen, and used to perform cooking for himself, as most wanderers are, he managed to make a very substantial meal, which he shared with poor lanky Rej, who, lean with motherhood, looked and behaved as if food and she had long been strangers. Then Jack passed along to his own room, and from his portmanteau produced a pipe and a tin of tobacco, which he proceeded to enjoy, despite his anxiety and bewilderment, taking sweet solace and counsel from "Sancta Nicotina Consolatrix."