Weekly Mail

THE BOTTLE IMP. BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON. (Continued.) HE young man of *2^ Beritania-street fell I upon his knees. "For God's sake buy it I" he cried. "You can have all my fortune in the bargain. I was mad when 1 bought iit at that price. I had em- bc-zzled money at my store; I was lost else; I must have gone to gaoL" fI Poor j said Keawe, you would risk your soul upon so desperate an adventure, and to avoid the proper punish- ment if your own disgrace and you think I could hesitate with love in front of me. Give me the bottle, and the change which I make sure you have all ready. Hero is a five oent piece." It was as Keawe supposed; the young man had the ohange ready in a drawer; the bottle ohanged hands, and Keawe's lingers were no sooner clasped upon the stalk then he had breathed his wish to be a cle\n man. And, sure enough, when he got home to his room, and stripped himself before a glass, his flesh was whole like an infant's. And here was the strange thing He had no sooner seen this miracle than his mind was changed within him, and he cared naught for the Chinese Evil, and little enough for Kokua; and had but the one thought, that here he was bound to the bottle imp for time and for eternity, and had no better hope but to be a cinder for ever in the flames of hell. Away ahead of him be saw them blaze with his mind's eye, and his soul shrank, and darkness fell upon the light. When Keawe came to himself a little he was aware it was the night when the band played at the hotel. Thither he went, because he feared to be alone; and there, among happy faces, walked to and fro, and heard the tunes go up and down, and saw Berger beat the measure, and all the while he heard the flames crackle and saw the red fire burning in the bottomless pit. Of a sudden the band played JiiJci-ao-ao; that was a song that he had sung with Kokua, and at the strain courage returned to him. It is done now," he thought, and once more let me take the good along with the evil." fo it befell that be returned to Hawaii by the first steamer, and as soon as it could be managed he was wedded to Kokua, and carried her up to the mountain side to the Bright House. Now, it was so with these two that when they were together Keawe's heart was stilled, but as soon as he was alone he fell into A brooding horror, and heard the flames oraokle, and saw the red fire burn in the bottomless pit. The girl, indeed, had come to him wholly; her heart leapt in her side at sight of him, her hand clung to his, and she was so fashioned from the hair upon her head to the nails upon her toes that none could see her without joy. She was pleasant in her nature. She had the good word always. Full of song- she was, and went to and fro in the Bright House, the brightest thing in its three storeys, carolling like the birds. And Keawe beheld and heard her with delight, and then must shrink upon one side, and weep and groan to think upon the price that he had paid for her and then he must dry his eyes, and wash his faoe, and go and sit with her on the broad balconies, joining her songs, and, with a sick spirit, answering her smiles. There came a day when her feet began to be heavy and her songs more rare; and now it was not Keawe only that would weep apart, but eaoh would sunder from the other and sit in opposite balconies, with the whole width of the Bright Bouse betwixt. Keawe was so sunk in his despair, he scarce observed the change, and was only glad he had more hours to sit alone and brood upon his destiny and was not so frequently oondenined to pull a smiling face on a siok heart. But one day, coming softly through the house, he heard the soond of a child sobbing, and there was Kokua rolling her face upon the balcony floor, and weeping like the lost. You do well to weep in this honse, Kokua," he said. "And yet I would give the head off my body that you (at least) might have been happy." Happy,! she cried. II Keawe, when you lived alone in your Bright House, you were the word of the island for a happy man laughter and song were in your mouth, and your face was as bright as the sunrise. Then you wedded poor Kokua and the good God knows what is amiss in her—but from that day you have not smiled. Oh I" she oried, what ails me P I thought 1 was pretty, and I knew I loved him. What ails me'that I throw this cloud upon my husband ? Poor Kokua," said Keawe. He sat down by her side, and sought to take her hand; but that she plucked away. Poor Kokua," he said, again. "My poor child -my pretty. And I had thought all this while to spare you I Well, you shall know all. Then, at least, you will pity poor Keawe; then you will understand how much he loved you in the past—that he dared hell for your possession— and how much he loves you still (the poor condemned one), that he can yet call up a smile when he beholds you." „ With that, he told her all, even from the beginning. You have done this for jne ? she cried. Ah, well, then what do 1 care "—and she clasped and wept upon him. t: Ab, child! said Keawe, and yet, when I consider of the fire of hell, I care a good deal Never tell me," said she, no man can be lost because he loved Kokua, and no other fault. I tell you, Keawe, I shall save you with these bands, or perish in your oompany. What !you loved me, and gave your soul, and you think 1 will not die to save you in return ? II Ah, my dear you might die a hundred times, and what difference would that make," be cried," except to leave me lonely till the time comes of my damnation ? You know nothing, said she. « I was educated in a school in Honolulu I am no common girl. And I tell you, I shall save my lover. What is this you say about a cent? But all the World is not American. In Eng- land they have a piece they call a farthing, which is about half a cent. Ah sorrow she cried, that makes it scarcely belter, for the buyer must be lost, and we shall find none so brave as my Keawe! But, then, there is France; they have a small coin there which they call a centime, and these go five to the cent, or thereabout. We oould not do better. Come, Keawe, let us go to the French islands let 11s go to Tahiti as fast as ship^can bear us^ There we have four centimes, three oentimes, two oentimes, one centime; four possible sales to come and go on; and two of us to push the bargain. Come, my Keawe! Kiss me, and banish care. Kokua will defend you." « Gift of God," he oried. "I cannot think that God will punish me for desiring aught so good! Be it as you will, then; take me where you please: I put my life and my salva- tion in your hands." Early the next day Kokua was about her preparations. She took Keawe's ohest that he went with sailoring, and first she put the bottle in a corner, and then packed it with the richest of their clothes and the bravest of the knick-knacks in the house. For," said she, we must seem to be rich folks, or who will believe in the bottle?" A IJ the time of her preparation she was as gay as a bird, only when she looked upon Keawe the tears would spring in her eye and she must run and kiss him. As for Keawe a weight was off his soul now that he had his secret shared and some hope in front of him he seemed like a new man, his feet went lightly on the earth, and his breath was good to him Again. Yet was terror still at his elbow, and ever and again as the winds blew out a taper hope died in him, and he saw the flames toss and the red fire burn in hell. It was given out in the country they were gone pleasuring to the States, which was thought a strange thing, and yet not so strange as the truth, if any could have guessed it. So they went to Honolulu 'n the Hall, and thence in the Umatilla to San "Francisco with a crowd of Haoles, and at San Francisco took their passage by the mail brigantine, the Tropic Bird, for Papeete, the chief place of the French in the south islands. Thither they came, after a pleasant voyage, on a fair day of the trade wind, and saw the reef with the surf breaking and Motuiti with its palms, and the schooner riding within-sida, and the white houses of the town low down along the shore among green trees, and overhead the mountains and the clouds of Tahiti, the wise island. It was judged the most wiae to hire a house, which they did accordingly, opposite the British Consul's, to make a gre-it parade of money, and themselves conspicuous with oarriages 'nd horses. This it was very easy to do, so long as they had the bottle in t,heir possession; for Kokua was more bold than Keawe, and whenever she had a mind called on the imp for twenty or a hundred dollars. At this rate they soon grew to be remarked in the town and the strangers from Hawaii, their riding and their driving, the fine^holo- kut, and the rioh laoc of '■fokua became the matter of muoh talk. They got. on well after the first with the Tahitian language, which is, indeed, like to the Hawaiian, with a change of certain letters; and, as soon as they had any freedom of speect, began to push the bottle. You are to consider it war not an easy subject to intro- due; it was not easy to persuade people you were in earnest when you offered to sell them for four oentimes the spring of health and riches inexhaustible. It was neoessary besides to explain the dangers of the bottle; and either people disbelieved the whole thing and laughed,or they thought the more of th« darker part, becamo overcast with gravity, and drew away from Keawe and Kokua as from persons who bad dealings with the devil. So far from gaining ground, these two began to find they were avoided in the town; the children ran away from them screaming, a thing intole- rable to Kokua; Catholios crossed themselves as they went by; and all persons began, with one accord, to disengage themselves from their advances. Depression fell upon their spirits. They would sit at night in their new house, after a ilaj's wcarine^a, and not exobange one word, or the silence would be broken by Tiukua bursting suddenly into sobs. Sometimes they would pray together sometimes they would bave the bottle out upon the floor, and sit all evening watching how the thadow hovered in the midst. At euoh times they would be afraid to go to rest. It was long ere slumber came to them, and, if either dozed off, it would be to wake and find the other ilently weeping in the dark, or, perhaps, to wake alone, the other having fled from the house and the neighbourhood of that bottle, to pace under the bananas in the little garden, or to wander on the beach by moonlight. One night it was so when Kokua awoke. Keawe was gone. She felt in the bed and his place was cold. Then fear fell upon her, and she sat up in bed. A little moonshine filtered through the shutters. Tho room was bright, and she could spy the bottle on the floor. Outside it blew high; the great trees of the avenue cried out aloud, and the fallen leave? rattled in the verandah. In the midst of this Kokua was aware of another sound whether of a beast or of a man she could scarce tell, but it was as sad as death, and out her to the soul. Softly she arose, set the door ajar, and looked forth into the moun-lit yard. There, under the bananas, lay Keaife, his mouth in the dust, and as he lay he moaned. It was Kokua's first thought to run forward and console him; her second potently with- held her. Keawe had borne himself before his wife like a brave man; it became her little in the hour of weakness to intrude upon his shame. With the thought she drew, back into the house. Heaven," she thought, how ""careless have I been—how weak! It is he, not I, that stands in this eternal peril; it was he, not I, that took the curse upon his soul. It is for my sake, and for the love of a creature of so little worth and such poor help, that he now beholds so close to him the flames of hell aye, and smells *-he smoke of it, lying',without there in the wind and moonlight. Am I so dull of spirit that never till now I have sur- mised my duty, or have I seen it before and turned aside? But now, at least, I takb up my soul in both the hands of my affection; now I say farewell to the white steps of Heaven and the waiting faces of my friends. A love for a love, and let mine be equalled with Keawe's! A. soul for a soul, and it be mine to perish She was a deft woman with her hands, and was soon apparelled. She took in her hands the change—the precious centimes they kept ever at their side; for this coin is little used, and they had made provision at a Government office. When she was forth in the avenue olouds came on the wind, and the moon was blackened. The town slept, and she knew not whither to turn till she heard one coughing in the shadow of the trees. Old man," said Kokua, what do you here abroad in the cold night r" The old man could scarce express himself for coughing, but she made out that he was old and poor and a stranger in the ialand. « Will you do me a service P" said Kokua. "As one stranger to another, and as an old man to a young woman, will you help a daughter of Hawaii ? "Ah," said the old man. II So you are the witch from the eight islands, and even my old soul you seek to entangle. But have heard of you, and defy your wickedness." Sit down here." said Kokua, and let me tell you a tale." And she told him the story of Keawe from the beginning to the end." And now," said she, I am his wife, whom he bought with his soul's welfare. And what should I do? If I went to àim myself and offered to buy it, be will reiuse. But if you go, he will sell it eagerly. I will await you here; you will buy it for four oen- times, and I will buy it again for three. And the Lord strengthen a poor girl!" If you meant falsely," said the old m'.n, I think God would strike you dead." 1 He would," cried Kokua. Be sure he would. I could not be so treacherous—God would not suffer it." If Give me the four centimes and await me here," said the old man. Now, when Kokua stood alone in the street, her spirit died. The wind roared in the trees, and it seemed to her the rushing of the flames of hell; the shadows towered in the light of the street lamp, and they seemed to her the snatching hands of evil ones. 2f she had had the strength, she must have run away, and, if she had had the breath, she must have soreamed aloud; but, in truth, she could do neither; and stood and trembled in the avenue like an affrighted child. Then she saw the old man returning, and he had the bottle in his hand. If I have done your bidding, said be, I left your husband weeping like a ohild; to- night he will sleep easy." And be held the bottle forth. Before you give it me, Kokua pa nted, If take the good with the evil—ask 'to be delivered from your cough." "I am an old man," replied the other, If and too near the gate of the grave to take a favour from the devil. But what is thisP Why do you not take the bottle? ")0 you hesitate ?" Not hesitate oried Kolcua, I am only weak. Give me a moment. It is my band resists, my flesh shrinks back from the accursed thing. One moment only I" The old man looked upon Kokua kindly. rt Poor child," tiaid he, "you fear; your soul misgives you. Well, let me keep it. I am old, and can never more be happy in this world, and as for the next-" Give it me!" gasped Kokua. There is your money. Do you think I am so base a# that? Give me the bottle." God bless you, child," said the old man. Kokua concealed the bottle under her holoku, said farewell to the old man, and walked off along the avenue, aho oared not whither. For all the roads were now the same to her, and led equally to hell. Some- times she walked and sometimes ran, some- times she screamed out loud in the night and sometimes lay by the wayside in the dust and wept..AU that she had heard of hell came back to her. She saw the flames blaze and she felt the smoke, and her flesh withered on the coals. Near day she came to her mind again; end returned to the house. It was even as the old man laid, Keawe slumbered like a child. Kokua stood and gazed upon his face. "Now, my husband," saidehe, "it ih your turn to sleep. When you wake it will be your turn to sing and laugh. But for poor Kokua, alas! that meant nc evil-for poor Kokua no more sleep, no more singing, no more delight, whether in earth or Heaven." 1 There was Kokua on the floor, the lamp at her side; I before her was a milk-white bottle, with a round j belly and a long neck. I With that she lay down in the bed by his side, and her misery was so extreme that she fell in a deep slumber instantly. Late in the morning her husband woke her and gave her the good news. It seemed he was silly with delight, for he paid no heed to her distress, ill though she dissembled ii. The words stuck in her mouth, it mattered not; Keawe did the speaking. She ate not n bite, but who was to observe it? For Keawe cleared the dish, Kokua saw and heard him, like some strange thing in a dream; there were times when she forgot or doubted, Mid put her hands to her brow; to know herself doomed and hear her husband babble, seemed so monstrous. All the while Keawe wasneating and talk- ing, and planning the time for their return, aud thanking her for saving him, and fond- ling her, and calling her the true helper after all, He laughed at the old man that was fool enough to buy that bottle. A worthy old wan he seemed," Ketwe said. But no one can judge by appearances. For why did the old reprobate require the bottle My husband," said Kokua humbly hi purpose may have been good." Keawe laughed like an angry man. Fiddle-de-dee I" cried Keawe. An old rogue, I tell you and an old ass to boot. For the bottle was hard enough to sell at four centimes and at three it will be quite impossible. The margin is not broad enough, the thing begins to smell of scorching- brrr I" said he, and shuddered. It is true I bought it myself at a cent. when I knew not there were smaller coins. I was a fool for my pains there will never be found another, and whoever has that bottle now will carry it to the pit." 0 my husband said Kokua. u Is it not a terrible thing to save oneself by the eternal ruin of another ? It seems to me I could not laugh. 1 would be humbled. I would be filled with melancholy. I would pray for the poor holder." Then Keawe, because he felt the truth of what she said, grew the more angry. Heighty-teighty I" cried he. You may be filled with melancholy if you please. It is not the mind of a good wife. If you thought at all of me you would sit shamed." Thereupon he went out, and Kokua was alone. What chance had she to sell that bottle at two centimes ? None, she perceived. And if she had any, here was her husband hurrying her awajL to a country where there was noth- ing lower than a cent. And here—on the morrow of her sacrifice-here was her husband leaving her and blaming her. She would not even try to profit by what time she had, but sat in the house, and now had the bottle out and viewed it with unut- terable fear, and now, with loathing, hid i'i out of sight. By and bye, Keawe came baok, and would have her take a drive. My husband, I am ill," she said. I am out of heart. Excuse me, I can take no pleasure. Then was Keawe more wroth than ever. With her, because he thought she was brood- ing over the case of the old man; and with himself, because he thought she was right and was ashamed to be so happy. "This is your troth," cried he, "and this your affection Your husband is just laved from eternal ruin, which he encountered for the love of you—and you can iuke no pleasure Kokua, you have a disloyal heart." He went forth again furious, and wandered in the town all day. He met friends, and drank with them; they hired a carriage and drove into the oountry, and there drank again. All the time Keawe was ill at ease, because he was taking this pastime while his wife was sad, and because he knew in his heart that she was more right than he; and the know. ledge made him drink the deeper. Now, there was an old brutal Haole drink- ing with him, one that had been a boatswain of a whaler—a runaway, a digger in gold mines, a convict in prisons. He had a low mind and a foul mouth hlol loved to drink and to see others drunken; and be pressed the glasc upon Keawe* Soon there was no more money in the company. Here, you 1" says the boatswain, you are rioh, you have been always saying. You have a bottle or some foolishness." Yes," says Keawe, "I am rioh; I will go back and get some money from my wife, who keeps it." That's a bad idea, mate," said the boat- swain. Never you trust a petticoat with dollars. They're all false as water; you keep an eye on her." Now, this word struck in Keawe's mind; for he was muddled widi what he had been drinking. "I should not wonder but she was false, indeed," thought he. Why else ahould she be so oast down at my release ? But I will show her I am not the man to be fooled. I will catch her in the aot." Accordingly, when they were back in town, Keawe bade the boatswain wait for him at ths corner, by the old calaboose, and went forward up the avenue alone to the door of his house. The night had come again; there was a light within, but never a sound; and Keawe crept about the corner, opened the back door softly, and looked in. There was Kokua on the floor, the lamp at her side; before her was a milk-white bottle, with a round belly and a long neok; and as she viewed it Kokua wrung her hands. A long time Keawe stood and looked in the doorway. At first he was struck stupid, and then fear fell upon him that the bargain had been made amiss, and the bottle had come back to him as it came from San Francisco, and at that his knees were loosened, and the fumes of the wine departed from his head like mists off a river in the morning. And then he had another thought, and it was a strange one, that made his cheeks to burn. 1 must make sure of this," thought he. So he closed the door and went softly round the corner again, and then came noisily in as though he were but now returned. And, lo! by the time he opened the front door no bottle was to be seen, aud Kokua sat in a ohair and started up like one wakened out of sleep. I have been drinking all day and making nerry," said Keawe. I have been with good jompanions, and now I only oome back for noney, and return to drink and carouse with ;hem again." Both his face and voice were stern as judg- nent, but Kokua was too troubled to observe. You do well to use your own, my lusband," said she, and her words trembled. Oh, I do well in all things," said Keawe, md he went straight for the chest and took >at money. But he looked besides in the ,orner where they kept the bottle, and there At that^fia^cBest neaveu upu wj uvv< ike a sea-billow, and the house span about him ike a wreath of smoke, for he saw she was ost now, and there was no escape. It is That I feared," he thought, It is she who ias bought it. And then he oame to himself a little and -ose up, but the sweat streamed on his face LS thick as the rain and as cold as the well- water. Kokua." said he, "I said to you to-day ivhat ill became me. Now, f return to house ivith my jolly oompanions," and at that he aughed a little quietly. "I will take more pleasure in the cup if you forgive me." She clasped his knees in a moment; she Idssed his knees with flowing tears. Ob, she cried, I asked but a kind word!" 9 Let us never one think hardly of the other," said Keawe, and wa, gone out of the house. Now, the money Keawe had taken was only some of that store of centime pieces they had laid in at their arrival. It was very sure he had no mind to be drinking. His wife had given her soul for him, now he must give his for hers; no other thought was in the world with him. At the corner, by the old calaboose, there was the boatswain waiting. "My wife has the bottle," said Keawe, and, unless you help me to recover it, there can be no more money and no more liquor to- night." You do not mean to say you are serious about that bottle?" cried the boatswain. There is the lamp," said Keawe. Do I took as if I was jesting ?" "That is so," said the boatswain. "You look as serious as a ghost." Well, then," said Keawe, here are two centimes; you must go to my wife in the house and offer her these for the bottle which, if I am not much mistaken, she will give you instantly. Bring it to me here, and I will buy it back from you for one; for that is the law with this bottle, that it still must be sold for a Jess sum. But whatever you do, never breathe a word to her that you have come from me." Mate, I wonder are you making a fool of me ?'' asked the boatswain. It will do you no harm if I am," returned Keawe. That is so, mate," said the boatswain. A nd if you doubt me," added Keawe, you can try. As soon as you are clear of the house wish to have your pocket full of money, or a bottle of the best rum, or what you please, and you will see the virtue of the thing." Very well, Kanaka," says the boatswain. I will try; but if you are having your fun out of me, I will take my fun out of you with a belaying pin." So the whaler-man went off up the avenue and Keawe stood and waited. It was near the same spot where Kokua had waited the night before; but Keawe was more resolved, and never faltered in his purpose; only his soul was bitter with ^despair. It seemed a long time he had to wait, be- fore he heard a voice singing in the darkness of the avenue. He knew the voioe to be the boatswain's; but it was strange how drunken it appeared upon a sudden. Next, the man himself came stumbling into the light of the lamp. He bad the devil's bottle buttoned in his coat; another bottle was in his hand; and even as he came in view he raised it to his mouth and drank. You have it," said Keawe. "I see that." Hands off cried the boatswain jumping back. Take a step near me, and I'll sm*sh your mouth. You thought you could make a cat's pa", of me, did you P" What do you mean?" oried Keawe 41 Mean ?" cried the boatswain. "Thia ie a pretty good bottle, this is; that's what I mean. How I got it for two centimes I can't make out; but I'm sure you shan't have it for v one." I H You mean you won't sell ?" gasped Keawe. No, sir cried the boatswain. But III give you a drink of the rum, if you like." II I tell you," said Keawe, It the man who ha# that bottle goes to hell." J If I reckon I'm going anyway," returned the' sailor; "and this bottle's the best thing to go with I've struck yet. No, sir he oried again, this is my bottle now, and you can so and fish for another." "Can this be true?" Keawe oried. "For your own sake, I beseech you, sell it me F "I don't value any of your talk," replied the boatswain. "You thought I was aflat,1 now you see I'm not; and there's an end. If you won't have a swallow of the rum, 111 have one myself. Here's your health, and good- night to you So off he went down the avenue towards town, and there goes the bottle out of the story. But Keawo ran to Kokua light as the wind; and great was their joy that night, and great, since then, has been the peaoe of all their days in the Bright House. [THE END.]