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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..15a24fb --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #56080 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/56080) diff --git a/old/56080-8.txt b/old/56080-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 8a50f38..0000000 --- a/old/56080-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,12501 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Fever of Life, by Fergus Hume - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Fever of Life - -Author: Fergus Hume - -Release Date: November 29, 2017 [EBook #56080] -Last Updated: January 29, 2018 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FEVER OF LIFE *** - - - - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by -Google Books (New York Public Library) - - - - - - - - - - - -Transcriber's Notes: - 1. Page scan source:https://books.google.com/books/about/ - The_Fever_of_Life.html?id=7nggAAAAMAAJ - 2. The diphthong oe is represented by [oe]. - - - - - - -THE FEVER OF LIFE -========================== -_By_ FERGUS HUME, _author of "The Mystery of a Hansom Cab," -"The Year of Miracle," "The Piccadilly Puzzle," -"A Creature of the Night," "Monsieur Judas," "Madame Midas," Etc_. -========================== - - - -========================== -NEW YORK AND LONDON -STREET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS -=========================== - - - - - -Copyright, 1901, -By UNITED STATES BOOK CO. ------------- -Copyright 1902. -By STREET & SMITH - - - - - -THE FEVER OF LIFE - - - - -CHAPTER I. -PINCHLER'S DOCKYARD. - - - "Fashion for the nonce surrenders - Giddy Mayfair's faded splendours, - And with all her sons and daughters - Hastens to health-giving waters; - Rests when curfew bells are ringing, - Rises when the lark is singing, - Plays lawn tennis, flirts and idles, - Laying snares for future bridals; - Thus forgetting pleasures evil, - In return to life primeval." - - -It was Toby Clendon who named it "Pinchler's Dockyard "--Toby Clendon, -young, handsome, and a trifle scampish, who wrote witty essays for -_The Satirist_, slashing criticisms for _The Bookworm_, and dainty -society verses for any journal which chose to pay for such poetical -effusions. A very cruel remark to make about Mrs. Pinchler's -respectable private hotel at Marsh-on-the-Sea; but then the truth is -always cruel, and Mr. Clendon proved the truth of his statement in -this wise-- - -"A dockyard is a place where broken-down ships are repaired. Man, by -poetical license, is a ship on the ocean of life. Some broken-down -human ships under stress of circumstance put in to Pinchler's private -hotel for repair in the matter of bodily ailments. Pinchler's harbours -these broken-down human ships, therefore Pinchler's is a human -dockyard. Strike out the word human as redundant, and there you are, -Pinchler's Dockyard." - -A whimsical deduction, doubtless, yet by no means void of a certain -amount of truthful humour, as the guests at Pinchler's private hotel -were for the most part deficient as regards physical completeness. If -the lungs were healthy the liver was out of order. Granted that the -head was "all there," the legs were not, unless one leg counted as -two. Splendid physique, but something wrong with the internal organs. -Yes, certainly a good many human ships were undergoing repair under -the calculating eye of Mrs. Pinchler; and as her establishment was not -healthy enough for a hotel nor sickly enough for an hospital, Toby -Clendon's intermediate term "dockyard" fitted it exactly; so -Pinchler's Dockyard it was called throughout Marsh-on-the-Sea. - -It was a square red-brick house, built on a slight eminence, and -facing the salt sea breeze of the Channel. On the one side a pleasant -garden, on the other smooth green tennis lawns, and in front a mixture -of turf, of flower-beds, and of gravel, sloping down to the road which -divided it from the stony sea beach. A short distance away to the -right was Marsh-on-the-Sea, with its rows of gleaming white houses set -on the heights, while below was the red-roofed quaint old town, built -long before its rival above became famous as a watering-place. To the -left, undulating hills, clumps of trees, tall white cliffs, and here -and there pleasant country houses, showing themselves above the green -crests of their encircling woods. Add to this charming prospect a -brilliant blue sea, a soft wind filled with the salt smell of the -waters, and a sun tempered by intervening clouds, and it will be -easily seen that Marsh-on-the-Sea was a pleasantly situated place, and -Pinchler's Dockyard was one of the pleasantest houses in it. - -"And why," said Mr. Clendon, continuing an argument, "and why English -people want to go to the Riviera for beauty, when they have all this -side of the Channel to choose from is more than I can make out." - -It was just after luncheon, and the wrecks at present being repaired -in the dockyard were sunning themselves on the tennis lawn. Some were -reading novels, others were discussing their ailments, a few ladies -were working at some feminine embroidery, a few gentlemen were smoking -their after-dinner pipe, cigar, cigarette, as the case might be, and -all were enjoying themselves thoroughly in their different ways. - -Toby himself, arrayed in spotless white flannels, with a blue-ribboned -straw hat was lying ungracefully on the grass, smoking a cigarette, -and talking in an affectedly cynical vein to three ladies. There was -Mrs. Valpy, fat, ponderous and plethoric; Miss Thomasina Valpy, her -daughter, familiarly called Tommy, a charmingly pretty girl, small, -coquettish and very fascinating in manner. As a rule, men of -susceptible hearts fell in love with Tommy; but when they heard Mrs. -Valpy say that she was like Thomasina when young, generally retreated -in dismay, having a prophetic vision that this fragile, biscuit-china -damsel would resemble her mother when old, and as Mrs. Valpy--well -they never proposed, at all events. - -There was a third lady present, Miss Kaituna Pethram, who was staying -at Pinchler's with the Valpys, and without doubt she was very -handsome; so handsome, indeed, that Tommy's brilliant beauty paled -before her sombre loveliness. She was dark, unusually dark, with a -pale, olive-coloured skin, coils of splendid dusky hair, luminous dark -eyes, and clearly-cut features, which were not exactly European in -their outline. Neither was her Christian name European, and this being -taken in conjunction with her un-English look, led some people to -think she had African blood in her veins. In this supposition, -however, they were decidedly wrong, as there was no suggestion of the -negro in her rich beauty. Indian? not delicate enough, neither as -regards features nor figure. Spanish? no; none of the languor of the -Creole; then no doubt Italian; but then she lacked the lithe grace and -restless vivacity of the Latin race. In fact Miss Kaituna Pethram -puzzled every one. They were unable to "fix her," as the Americans -say, and consequently gave up the unguessable riddle of her birth in -despair. - -As a matter of fact, however, she was the descendant, in the third -generation, of that magnificent New Zealand race, now rapidly dying -out--the Maories, and the blending of the dusky Polynesian with the -fair European had culminated in the production of this strange flower -of two diverse stocks--neither wholly of the one nor of the other, -but a unique blending of both. Her great grandparents had been -full-blooded Maories, with uncivilised instincts and an inborn -preference for a savage life. Their daughter, also a full-blooded -Maori, being the daughter of a chief, had married a European settler, -and the offspring of this mixed marriage was Kaituna's mother, a -half-caste, inheriting the civilised culture of her father, and the -savage instincts of her mother. Kaituna was born of this half-caste -and an English father, therefore the civilised heredity prevailed; but -she still retained the semblance, in a minor degree, of her primeval -ancestry, and without doubt, though ameliorated by two generations of -European progenitors on the male side, there lurked in her nature the -ineradicable instincts of the savage. - -Of course, self-complacent Europeans, pure-blooded in themselves, -never argued out the matter in this wise, and were apt to look down on -this inheritor of Maori ancestry as "a nigger," but were decidedly -wrong in doing so, as the magnificent race that inhabits New Zealand -is widely removed from the African black. At all events, whatever they -might think, Kaituna Pethram was a uniquely beautiful girl, attractive -to a very great degree, and inspiring more admiration than the -undecided blondes and brunettes who moved in the same circle cared to -acknowledge. Toby Clendon was not in love with her, as he preferred -the saucy manner and delicate beauty of Miss Valpy, but Archie -Maxwell, who was the best looking young man at Pinchler's, had quite -lost his heart to this unique flower of womanhood, and the damsels of -Pinchler's resented this greatly. Mr. Maxwell, however, was at present -engaged in talking to some of them at a distance, and if his eyes did -wander now and then to where Clendon was playing Shepherd Paris to -goddesses three--Mrs. Valpy being Minerva in her own opinion--they did -their best to enchain his attention and keep him to themselves. -Kaituna herself did not mind, as she was not particularly taken with -Mr. Maxwell, and was quite content to lie lazily back in her chair -under the shelter of a large red sunshade and listen to Toby Clendon's -desultory conversation. - -It was a pleasant enough conversation in a frivolous fashion. Mr. -Clendon made startling statements regarding the world and its -inhabitants, Kaituna commented thereon. Tommy sparkled in an idle, -girlish way, and Mrs. Valpy, with sage maxims, culled from the -monotonous past of an uneventful life, supplied the busy element -requisite in all cases. Three of the party were young, the fourth was -gracefully old, so, juvenility predominating, the conversation rippled -along pleasantly enough. - -After the patriotic Toby had made his remark concerning the -superiority of things English over all the rest of the world, Kaituna -waved the banner of Maoriland, and laughed softly. - -"Ah! wait till you see New Zealand." - -"_Ultima Thule_," said Clendon classically. "Eh I why should I go -there, Miss Pethram?" - -"To see what nature can do in the way of beautiful landscape." - -"I am a domestic being, Miss Pethram, and find the domestic scenery of -England sufficiently beautiful to satisfy my artistic longings. New -Zealand, I have been told, is an uncivilised country, full of horrid -woods and wild beasts." - -"There are no wild beasts at all," replied Kaituna indignantly, "and -the bush is not horrid. As to it being uncivilised, that is the -mistake you English make." - -"Oh, the contempt in the term 'you English,'" interjected Toby, -impudently. - -"We have cities, railways, theatres, musical societies, shops, and -everything else necessary to make life pleasant. That is civilisation, -I suppose. We have also great plains, majestic mountains, splendid -rivers, undulating pasture lands and what not. This is uncivilised--if -you like to call it so. England is pretty--oh yes, very pretty, but -tame like a garden. One gets tired of always living in a garden. A -garden is nature's drawing-room. I don't say a word against England, -for I like it very much, but at times I feel stifled by the narrowness -of the place. England is very beautiful, yes; but New Zealand," -concluded Miss Pethram with conviction, "New Zealand is the most -beautiful place in the whole world." - -"My dear," said Mrs. Valpy in a patronising manner, "are you not going -a little too far? I've no doubt the place you come from is very nice, -very nice indeed, but to compare it with England is ridiculous. You -have no city, I think, like London. No, no! London is cosmopolitan, -yes--quite so." - -Having stated this plain truth, Mrs. Valpy looked round with a fat -smile of triumph and resumed her knitting, while Tommy dashed into the -conversation with slangy vivacity. - -"Oh, I say, you know, New Zealand's a place where you can have a high -old time, but London's the place for larks." - -"Why not the country," said Clendon drily, "the morning lark." - -"Oh, I don't mean that sort of lark," interrupted Tommy ingeniously, -"the evenin' lark; my style, you know. Waltzin', flirtin', talkin', -jolly rather." - -"You move in the highest circles, Tommy," said Kaituna, who was a -somewhat satirical damsel. "You drop your 'g's.'" - -"Better than dropping your 'h's'." - -"Or your money," said Toby, lighting a fresh cigarette. "I don't know -what we're all talking about." - -"I think," observed Mrs. Valpy in a geographical style, "we were -discussing the Islands of New Zealand." - -"Rippin' place," said Tommy gaily. - -"Thomasina, my dear," remarked her Johnsonian mamma, "I really do not -think that you are personally----" - -"Acquainted with the place! No! I'm not. But Kaituna has told me a -lot. Archie Maxwell has told me more----" - -"Mr. Maxwell?" interposed Kaituna, quickly. "Oh, yes! he said that he -had visited Auckland on his way to Sydney--but you can't tell New -Zealand from one city." - -"_Ex pede Herculem_," said the classical Toby, "which, being -translated means--by the foot shall ye know the head." - -"Auckland isn't the head of New Zealand. It was, but now Wellington is -the capital. The city of wooden match-boxes built in a draughty -situation." - -"How unpatriotic." - -"Oh, no, I'm not, Mr. Clendon. But I reserve my patriotism for -Dunedin?" - -"You mean Edinburgh. - -"I mean the new Edinburgh with the old name, not the old Edinburgh -with the new name." - -"Epigrammatic, decidedly. This is instructive, Miss Pethram. Do they -teach epigram in the schools of Dunedin?" - -"And why not? Do you think Oxford and Cambridge monopolise the -learning of nations? We also in Dunedin," concluded Kaituna proudly, -"have an university." - -"To teach the young idea how to shoot--delightful." - -"But I thought there was no game to shoot," said Tommy wickedly. - -Mrs. Valpy reproved the trio for their frivolous conversation. - -"You are all talking sad nonsense." - -"On the contrary, gay nonsense," retorted Clendon lightly; "but I -foresee in this badinage the elements of an article for _The -Satirist_. Miss Pethram, I am going to use you as copy. Tell me all -about yourself." - -"To be published as an essay, and ticketed 'The New Pocahontas.'" - -"Perhaps," replied the essayist evasively, "for you are a kind of -nineteenth century Pocahontas. You belong to the children of Nature." - -"Yes, I do," said Kaituna, quickly; "and I'm proud of it. My father -went out to New Zealand a long time ago, and there married my mother, -who was the daughter of a Maori mother. My grandmother was the child -of a chief--a real Pocahontas." - -"Not quite; Pocahontas was a chieftainess in her own right." - -"And died at Wapping, didn't she?" said Mrs. Valpy, placidly. "Of -course the dark races always give way to the superiority of the -white." - -Kaituna looked indignantly at this fat, flabby woman, who spoke so -contemptuously of her Maori ancestors, who were certainly superior to -Mrs. Valpy from a physical point of view, and very probably her equal -mentally in some ways. It was no use, however, arguing with Mrs. Valpy -over such a nice point, as she was firmly intrenched behind her -insular egotism, and would not have understood the drift of the -argument, with the exception that she was a white, and therefore -greatly superior to a black. Toby saw the indignant flash in her eyes, -and hastened to divert the chance of trouble by saying the first thing -that came into his mind. - -"Is your mother in England, Miss Pethram?" - -"My mother is dead." - -"Oh! I beg--I beg your pardon," said Toby, flustering a little at his -awkwardness: "I mean your father." - -"My father," replied Kaituna, cheerfully. "Oh, he is out in New -Zealand again. You know, we lived out there until a year ago. Then my -father, by the death of his elder brother, became Sir Rupert Pethram, -so he brought me home. We always call England home in the Colonies. He -had to go out again about business; so he left me in Mrs. Valpy's -charge." - -"Delighted to have you, my dear," murmured the old lady, blinking her -eyes in the sunshine like an owl. "You see, Mr. Clendon, we are near -neighbours of Sir Rupert's down in Berkshire." - -"Oh!" said Clendon, raising himself on his elbow with a look of -curiosity in his eyes, "that is my county. May I ask what particular -part you inhabit?" - -"Near Henley." - -"Why, I lived near there also." - -"What," cried Tommy, with great surprise, "can it be that you are a -relative of Mr. Clendon, the Vicar of Deswarth?" - -"Only his son." - -"The young man who would not become a curate?" - -"It didn't suit me," said Toby, apologetically; "I'm far too gay for a -curate. It's a mistake putting a square peg into a round hole, you -know; and I make a much better pressman than a preacher." - -"It is a curious thing we never met you, Mr. Clendon," observed Mrs. -Valpy, heavily; "but we have only been at 'The Terraces' for two -years." - -"Oh, and I've been away from the parental roof for five or six years. -I do not wonder at never meeting you, but how strange we should meet -here. Coincidences occur in real life as well as in novels, I see." - -"Mr. Maxwell told me he met a man in London the other day whom he had -last seen in Japan," said Kaituna, smiling. - -"Maxwell is a wandering Jew--an engineering Cain." - -"Hush! hush!" said Mrs. Valpy, shocked like a good church-woman, at -any reference to the Bible in light conversation. "Mr. Maxwell is a -very estimable young man." - -"I called him Cain in a figurative sense only," replied Toby, coolly; -"but if you object to that name, let us call him Ulysses." - -"Among the sirens," finished Kaituna, mischievously. - -Tommy caught the allusion, and laughed rudely. Confident in her own -superiority regarding beauty, she was scornful of the attempts of the -so-called sirens to secure the best-looking man in the place, so took -a great delight in drawing into her own net any masculine fish that -was likely to be angled for by any other girl. She called it fun, the -world called it flirtation, and her enemies called it coquetry; and -Toby Clendon, although not her enemy, possibly agreed with the -appropriateness of the term. But then he was her lover; and lovers are -discontented if they don't get the object of their affections all to -themselves. - -"The sirens!" repeated Miss Valpy, scornfully. "What, with voices like -geese? What humbug! Let us take Archie Maxwell Ulysses away from the -sirens, Kaituna." - -"No, no, don't do that!" said Kaituna with a sudden rush of colour; -"it's a shame." - -"What! depriving them of their big fish? Not at all. It's greedy of -them to be so selfish. I'll call him. Mr. Maxwell!" - -"It's very chilly here," said Kaituna, rising to her feet. "Mr. -Clendon, my shawl, please. Thank you I'm going inside." - -"Because of Mr. Maxwell?" asked Miss Valpy, maliciously. - -"No. I'm expecting some letters from Mr. Dombrain. Oh, here is Mr. -Maxwell. _Au revoir_," and Miss Pethram walked quickly away towards -the house. - -Maxwell having extricated himself from the company of the sirens, who -looked after their late captive with vengeful eyes, saw Kaituna -depart, and hesitated between following her or obeying the invitation -of Miss Valpy. His heart said "Go there," the voice of Tommy said -"Come here," and the unfortunate young man hesitated which to obey. -The lady saw his hesitation, and, purposely to vex Mr. Clendon, -settled the question at once. - -"Mr. Maxwell, come here. I want you to play lawn-tennis." - -"Certainly, Miss Valpy," said Maxwell, with sulky civility. - -"Why, I asked you to play twice this afternoon, and you refused," -cried Clendon, in some anger. - -"Well, I've changed my mind But you can play also, if you like." - -"No, thank you. I've--I've got an engagement." - -Tommy moved close to the young man and laughed. - -"You've got a very cross face." - -At this Clendon laughed also, and his cross face cleared. - -"Oh, I'll be delighted to play." - -"And what about Miss Pethram?" asked Maxwell, rather anxiously. - -"Miss Pethram has gone inside to await the arrival of the post." - -"Isn't she coming out again?" - -"I think not." - -"If you will excuse me, Miss Valpy, I won't play just at present." - -"Oh, never mind." - -So Maxwell stalked away in a very bad temper with himself, with Miss -Pethram, and with everything else. In any one but a lover it would -have been sulks, but in the _ars amoris_ it is called despair. - -Tommy held her racket like a guitar, and, strumming on it with her -fingers, hummed a little tune--a vulgar little tune which she had -picked up from a common street boy-- - - - "Tho' I'm an earl, - And she's a girl, - Far, far below my level, - Oh, Mary Jane, - You give me pain, - You wicked little----" - - -"Thomasina!" cried the scandalised Mrs. Valpy, and Thomasina laughed. - - - - -CHAPTER II. -WANTED, A CHAPERON. - - - "We are told in stories olden - Dragons watched the apples golden, - Quick to send a thief to Hades. - Now no fruit the world-tree ladens, - Apples gold are dainty maidens, - And the dragons are old ladies." - - -After dinner--a meal cooked, conducted, and eaten on strictly -digestive principles--most of the inmates of Pinchler's retired to -bed. Sleep was necessary to the well-being of these wrecks of -humanity, so those who could sleep went to their repose with joyful -hearts, and those who could not, put off the evil hour precluding a -restless night by going to the drawing-room for a little music. - -Here they sat in melancholy rows round the room, comparing notes as to -their physical sensations, and recommending each other patent -medicines. Some of the younger people sang songs and played popular -airs on the out-of-tune piano furnished by Pinchler's. During the -intervals between the songs scraps of curious conversation could be -heard somewhat after this fashion-- - -"There's nothing like a glass of hot water in the morning." - -"Dry toast, mind; butter is rank poison." - -"Rub the afflicted part gently and breathe slowly." - -"Put a linseed poultice at the nape of the neck." - -With such light and instructive conversation did the wrecks beguile -their leisure hours, keeping watchful eyes on the clock so as not to -miss taking their respective medicines at the right times. Mrs. -Pinchler, a dry, angular woman with a glassy eye and a fixed smile, -revolved round the drawing-room at intervals, asking every one how -they felt. - -"Better, Mrs. Tandle? Yes, I thought that syrup would do you good--it -soothes the coats of the stomach. Miss Pols, you do look yellow. Let -me recommend a glass of hot water in the morning. Mr. Spons, if you -lie down on the sofa I'm sure it will do you good. Oh, are you going -to play, Miss Valpy? Something quiet, please. Music is such a good -digestive." - -Tommy, however, was not a young lady who could play quiet tunes, her -performance on the piano being of the muscular order. She therefore -favoured the company with a noisy piece of the most advanced school, -which had no melody, although full of contrapuntal devices. Having -shaken every one's nerves with this trying performance, she glided off -into a series of popular waltzes, mostly of the scrappy order, in -which she sandwiched hymn tunes between music-hall melodies. The -wrecks liked this style of thing, as they could all beat time with -their feet, and when it was finished said waltzes were charming, but -not so fine as "Batch's" passion music, of which they knew nothing, -not even how to pronounce his name correctly. - -"Bach!" echoed Tommy contemptuously. "Oh, he's an old fossil! -Offenbach's more in my line. Oui! You bet! Sapristi! Vive la -bagatelle!" - -The company did not understand French, so suffered this observation to -pass in discreet silence, but Kaituna laughed. She was sitting in a -corner by herself, with a look of impatience on her face, for she was -expecting a letter and the post was late. - -"Kaituna," cried Tommy, attracted by the laugh, "why are you sitting -in the corner like a graven image? Come out and sing." - -"No, I don't want to. I'm waiting for my letter." - -"Hasn't it arrived yet?" said Miss Valpy, skipping across the room. -"I'd give it to that Dombrain thing if I were you. Dombrain! What a -name! Who is he?" - -"My father's solicitor." - -"Oh, in the law and the profits? I don't mean biblically, but -commercially. But, I say, don't keep thinking of your letter, or it -won't come. The watched postman never boils." - -"What nonsense you talk!" - -"I can't help it, dear. My brains leave me when there are no male -things in the room." - -"There's Mr. Spons." - -"Oh, I don't bother about him. He's not a man; he's a medicine bottle. -Hark! I hear footmarks approaching on horseback. It is the man. Now, -will you take Mr. Clendon and I Mr. Maxwell, or will you take Mr. -Maxwell and I Mr. Clendon?" - -"I don't want either," said Kaituna hastily. - -"Now that's ungrateful, especially when Mr. Maxwell is such a dear. -'Oh, that heaven would send me such a man!'--Shakespeare, Kaituna, so -don't look indignant. You can take Archie, and I'll satisfy myself -with Toby." - -"You shouldn't call men by their Christian names, Thomasina." - -"Don't say that; it sounds like 'ma. I only call them by their -Christian names to you. I wouldn't do it to their faces." - -"I hope not." - -"How proper you are! Behold the male sex are at the door! I can smell -the tobacco on their clothes." - -The rattle of the lively damsel was put an end to by the entry of the -gentlemen, headed by Maxwell and Clendon, the latter of whom Miss -Valpy bore off at once to the piano to make him sing, turn over her -music, and make himself generally useful. Maxwell, however, went -straight across to Kaituna, and held out a newspaper. - -"This is yours, Miss Pethram," he said, seating himself beside her, "I -knew you were anxious about the post, so I waited downstairs till it -came." - -"Was there no letter?" said Kaituna, in some dismay. - -"No; nothing but that _Telegraph_." - -"Oh, there maybe something marked in it," she said quietly. "Excuse me -a moment while I look." - -Maxwell bowed and sat watching her as she tore the cover off the paper -and opened the rustling leaves. He had only known this girl a -fortnight, yet within that time had contrived to fall deeply in love -with her. It was not her beauty, although, man-like, he naturally -admired a pretty woman. It was not her charming manner, fascinating as -it was in every way. It was not her clever brain, her bright -conversation, her perfect taste in dress. No. It was that -indescribable something which she had about her to attract him in a -greater degree than any other woman he had ever known. What that -something is no man knows until he has fallen in love, and then he -feels it, but cannot describe his sensations. Scientists, no doubt, -would call it animal magnetism; poets would call it love; scoffers -would term it sensuality. But whatever scientists, poets, or scoffers -choose to call it, the thing is unnameable, indescribable, and is the -necessary concomitant of a happy marriage. - -It was this indescribable feeling that had sprung up suddenly between -those two young people. Kaituna also felt drawn to Maxwell, but in a -lesser degree, for no matter what cynics may say about the frivolity -of women, they are certainly less inflammable than men. A pretty woman -knows her power to attract the opposite sex, and uses it daily, mostly -for amusement; therefore when her time does come to feel the genuine -pangs of love, she is more able to govern and control her feelings -than a man who, as a rule, simply let's himself go. So this was -exactly how the case stood between these two lovers. Maxwell felt that -Kaituna was the one woman in the world for him, and never attempted to -suppress his passion in any way. He allowed himself to be so entirely -dominated by it, that it soon became his master, and all his days and -nights were given over to dreams of this beautiful dark woman from a -distant isle of the sea. On the other hand, Kaituna felt that she -loved him, but controlling herself with feminine dexterity, never let -her infatuated lover see that his passion was responded to in any way. -Had he tried to go away she would speedily have lured him back by -means of those marvellous womanly arts, the trick of which no man -knoweth; but the poor love-lorn wretch was so abjectly submissive that -she coolly planted her conquering foot on his neck and indulged in a -little catlike play with this foolish mouse. - -He was a handsome fellow too, Archie Maxwell, with his fresh-coloured -face, his yellow hair and moustache, his blue eyes, and his stalwart -figure. A lover any girl would be proud to have at her feet, as -Kaituna undoubtedly was, though the woman predominated in her too much -to allow her to let him see her approval. Poor! yes, he was poor, -certainly. An engineer, who wandered over half the world building -bridges and railways, and all kind of extraordinary things. Still, he -was young, and engineering is a money making profession, so Kaituna -positively determined that should he ask her to marry him, she would -consent. But her father--well, he was thousands of miles away, and -when he returned she would no doubt gain his approval; so at present -she surrendered herself entirely to this new delicious feeling, and -Ulysses, tangled in the snares of Calypso, forgot everything save the -face of the conquering nymph. - -Meanwhile Calypso read the paper while Ulysses watched her, and they -both sat silent while every one round them talked loudly. Tommy was -playing a nigger minstrel tune, and Toby, leaning on the piano, was -chatting to her gaily, evidently on the fair way to become as much -enamoured of his nymph as this other sighing rover. - -"Well, have you found what you wanted?" asked Maxwell, as the lady -looked up with a bright smile. - -"Yes! It is marked with a blue pencil, and as you have been so kind in -playing postman, you can read it." - -Archie did so. - -"Wanted, a companion for a young lady. Apply by letter, Dombrain, 13, -Chintler Lane, City." - -"Short and sweet," he said, handing the paper back, with a puzzled -look on his face; "but I don't understand it." - -"It's easily explained," replied Miss Pethram, composedly. "Mr. -Dombrain is my father's solicitor, and is advertising for a -chaperon--for me." - -"For you! But you have Mrs. Valpy." - -"Mrs. Valpy is a dear old lady, but she is--Mrs. Valpy." - -"It is a very serious thing to advertise in a paper for a chaperon. -You never know the kind of person you may get." - -"Mr. Dombrain will." - -"Mr. Dombrain may not be infallible," retorted Archie, feeling rather -angry, he knew not why, at the repetition of the name. "If your father -wished you to have a chaperon, why didn't he ask Mrs. Valpy to -recommend some one." - -Kaituna laughed. - -"I'm sure I can't tell you! Papa has gone away to New Zealand on -business, and asked Mrs. Valpy to look after me in the meantime. -He left instructions with Mr. Dombrain--in whom he has full -confidence--that I was to be provided with a companion, so I suppose -Mr. Dombrain's only idea of getting one suitable is through the -newspapers." - -"I think it's a pity." - -"Oh, not at all! Don't be afraid of me, Mr. Maxwell; I assure you I -can take excellent care of myself. All colonial girls can. They are -more self-reliant than English young ladies. If I don't like the -companion chosen for me by Mr. Dombrain, I'll easily get rid of her." - -"But if Mrs. Valpy recommended you someone who could introduce you -into society." - -"Some pauper peeress I suppose you mean," said Kaituna, equitably. -"No, I wouldn't care for that at all. I don't wish to go into society -until my father comes home again. Then it will be easy, for the -Pethrams are an old family, and have sisters and cousins and aunts -everywhere. When I wish to see the world, I've no doubt papa will find -some one to present me at Court; but at present I want a companion to -talk to. I say a chaperon, but I mean a companion." - -"Oh, I wish!--I wish!" stuttered Archie, growing red; "I wish----" - -He stopped short, this wise young man, for he was on the verge of -saying something very foolish, which might have jeopardised his -chances with the Maori maiden, but the fruit was not yet ripe, so with -wisdom beyond his years, he refrained from finishing his sentence. - -"You've wished three times," said Miss Pethram calmly. "What is it -about?" - -"The wish?" - -"Yes!" - -"I wish that you may get a good chaperon." - -"So do I, but I suppose they are as difficult to get as anything else. -I'm afraid I'll be very hard to please. Of course, it's a difficult -thing to choose a person to live with." - -"Even in marriage." - -Kaituna blushed, and folded up the paper in a somewhat embarrassed -fashion. - -"Marriage is a lottery," she said at length, with an attempt at -lightness. - -"I think I've heard that remark before." - -"Very likely. It's hard to say anything original nowadays." - -"I suppose," said Archie, after a pause, "that when your chaperon is -chosen by Mr. Dombrain, she will come down here." - -"Oh, dear, no. I'm going home next week with the Valpys." - -"Home?" - -"Yes. To Thornstream, near Deswarth, in Berkshire. Papa's house, you -know." - -"And I'll never see you again," he said dismally. - -"Oh, I don't know; the world is small." - -Maxwell groaned in vexation of spirit, thinking that the heart of this -desirable maiden was as the flint which is hard; and the maiden -herself, having thus worried her mouse, consoled it in a pleasant -fashion. - -"Besides, Berkshire is not very far from London." - -"I know that, of course, but I have no acquaintances in Deswarth." - -"Oh, fie! What about Mrs. Valpy!" - -"Mrs. Valpy! of course, I quite forgot Mrs. Valpy," said Archie, -determined to pay court at once to the old lady. "You know I like Mrs. -Valpy." - -"Since when?" asked Kaituna, mischievously. - -Archie took out his watch gravely, and looked at it. - -"To be exact, since a minute ago." - -"Oh, the craft of the male sex." - -"The end justifies the means," quoted Archie, Jesuitically; "but oh, I -say----" He stopped, and a look of alarm overspread his face. - -"What's the matter?" - -"I'm afraid I won't be able to come down to Berkshire." - -"Why not?" - -"Because I have to go to South America next month." - -Kaituna froze instantly, and annihilated him with a glacial look, at -which he quailed visibly. - -"I can't help it, Miss Pethram," he said piteously, "don't look at me -like that." - -"I'm not looking at you like that," retorted Miss Pethram vengefully. -"I--I hope you'll have a pleasant voyage." - -"I won't! I hate the sea." - -"Then why go?" - -"Needs must, when the devil drives." - -"That's very coarse." - -"But it's very true. I beg your pardon, really; but, you know, it is -hard to have to go prancing about the world when you don't want to." - -"How long will you be out in South America?" - -"I don't know. Perhaps for ever, if I get yellow fever." - -"I wish you wouldn't talk like that." - -"Man is mortal," said Maxwell, with gloomy relish. - -"Man is silly," retorted Kaituna rising to her feet, "so I'm going to -ask Mr. Clendon to sing a song." - -"You never ask me!" said the young man reproachfully. - -"Oh! can engineers sing?" - -Maxwell said a naughty word under his breath, and walked meekly to the -piano beside her. Toby was in possession of the instrument, and was -giving Miss Valpy selections from the latest London burlesque. - -"This is the dance, you know," he said playing a breakdown; "and then -comes the song 'Skip the gutter daddy, dear,'--a rippin' song." - -"Sounds like it," said Maxwell, caustically; "so refined." - -"Well, you needn't talk my boy, I've seen you enjoying it immensely." - -Kaituna directed another look of scorn at the unhappy Maxwell, which -inspired him with a vehement desire to break Toby's head. He -refrained, however, and smiled in a sickly manner. - -"I prefer Shakespeare," he said at length, telling the best lie he -could under the circumstances. - -"Dry old stick," observed Tommy, lightly. "There's no fun in him." - -"But he's so high class." - -"Listen to the virtuous one," said Clendon, scoffingly. "Oh, my -gracious! that my boy should talk such jargon. You don't feel ill, do -you, Archie?" - -"No, I don't," retorted Archie, in a rage, seeing that Kaituna was -enjoying this little dialogue with great zest. "I wish you'd be quiet -and sing something." - -"How can I be quiet and sing also?" - -"Dosing, Mr. Clendon," said Kaituna, with a kind flash of her -beautiful eyes at the happy bard. - -Maxwell suppressed a second naughty word and sat down in dismal -silence. - -"What shall I sing?" asked Toby, running his fingers over the piano. - -"Something funny." - -"No, no! Something sentimental," said Kaituna, in a commanding tone, -and sat down beside Miss Valpy. - -Toby cleared his throat, looked up at the ceiling for inspiration, and -laughed. - -"I'll sing a betwixt and between thing." - -So he did. - - - "She is the dearest of girls I confess, - Her milliners' bills are a sight to see; - Dearest of girls in the matter of dress, - Dearest of girls in the world to me. - I lost my heart, but I lost my gold, - And hearts without gold are romantic trash; - Her love was a thing to be bought and sold, - But I couldn't purchase for want of cash. - - "Now she is spouse to an aged man, - He's eighty-five and a trifle frail; - Soon he'll finish his life's brief span, - Then she'll look for another male. - Ah! but love comes not twice in our life, - Cupid for ever has passed us by; - So if she asked me to make her my wife, - I would not marry her, no not I." - - -"Oh!" said Tommy, when the song was ended, "so that's your idea of a -woman's love." - -"Not mine--the world's." - -"And what about the love which cannot be bought?" asked Kaituna. - -"Is there such a love?" - -"Yes, cynic," growled Maxwell in disgust; "true love is not a saleable -article. The woman who truly loves a man," here his eye rested on -Kaituna, "lets nothing stand in the way of that love. She gives up -rank, fortune, everything for his sake." - -"And what does she receive in return?" demanded Miss Pethram, -innocently. - -"The true joy which arises from the union of two loving hearts." - -"Very pastoral indeed," said Toby, lightly. "Chloe and Corydon in -Arcadia. It once existed, indeed, but now----" - -"But now," finished Kaituna, rather tired of the discussion, "it is -time to retire." - -Both the gentlemen protested at the ladies going away so early, but -Kaituna remained firm, and was supported by Tommy, who said she felt -very tired. - -"Not of us, I hope!" said Toby, meekly. - -"Thyself hath said it," she replied, holding out her hand. -"Good-night." - -When they were leaving the room, Maxwell, who was escorting Kaituna, -bent over and whispered in her ear-- - -"I won't go to South America." - -"South America," she repeated, with a pretended look of surprise, "Oh! -yes, of course. I forgot all about it, I assure you. Good-night." - -She was gone before he could say a word, leaving him overcome with -anger at the flippant manner in which she spoke. Was she in jest or -earnest. He could not tell. Perhaps she said one thing and meant -another. He could not tell. Perchance--oh, women were all alike, they -liked to put their victim on a sharp hook and watch him wriggle -painfully to be free. - -"She's a coquette!" - -"Who? Miss Valpy?" asked Toby, overhearing. - -"No, Miss Pethram; but I dare say her friend's no better." - -"I'm afraid not!" sighed Mr. Clendon, dismally; "it's six of one and -half-a-dozen of the other. But what ails my Archibald? His brow is -overcast." - -"Oh! rubbish," growled Archibald, rudely; "come and smoke." - -The smoking-room was quite empty, so the young men established -themselves in two comfortable armchairs, and devoted their energies to -the consumption of tobacco. Clendon preferred the frivolous cigarette, -but Archie produced with loving care a well coloured meerschaum, which -had been his companion for many years. - -"This is a travelled pipe," he said to his friend when the blue smoke -was rolling in clouds from his mouth, "a very Ulysses of pipes. It has -been in far countries and knoweth the ways of the stranger." - -"Good idea for a story," observed Toby, who was always on the look-out -for copy. "'The Tale of a Pipe in ten Fills.' Egad! I think it ought -to go capitally. It's so difficult to get an idea nowadays." - -Maxwell, luxuriating in his pipe, grunted in a manner which might have -meant anything, so Toby promptly attacked him on his want of manners. - -"You might speak to a fellow when a fellow speaks to you! I tell you -what, Archie, you've changed for the worse since we were at school -together. Then you were a gregarious animal, and now you are an -unsociable beast." - -"Don't call names, my good man! I can't help being quiet. My thoughts -are far away." - -"Pish! not so very far." - -"Well, perhaps not." - -"Have you asked her to marry you?" - -"Hardly! I've only known her a fortnight, and besides, I've got no -money." - -"No; but she has!" - -"I don't want to live on my wife. I'm going away to South America." - -"Never to see her again, I suppose," said Toby, ironically; "don't -talk nonsense, Archie. You're madly in love with Miss Pethram and -don't want to lose sight of her." - -"True! but I must when she goes away from here." - -"Not a bit of it. Listen, I will be your good angel." - -Maxwell laughed grimly at the idea. - -"I will be your good angel," repeated Toby, imperturbably, "and take -you down with me to Deswarth." - -"To your father's house? I thought you weren't friends with your -governor." - -"I am not," acknowledged Clendon with touching candour; "he wanted me -to become a churchman, and I didn't care about it. We had words and -parted. Now, however, I've won a success in literature, I'll go back -and ask the pater to kill the domestic veal. You I will bring with me -to the banquet, and as Miss Pethram lives near you will be able to see -her, woo her, wed her, and be happy ever afterwards." - -Archie made no reply, but smoked furiously; and Toby, having delivered -himself of what he had to say, also subsided into silence. - -After a pause said Maxwell-- - -"Toby." - -"Yes." - -"I'll come." - -"What about South America?" - -"D---- South America." - - - - -CHAPTER III. -THE WOMAN WITH THE FIERCE EYES. - - - You are a snake, - For the sly beast lies - Coiled in the brake - Of your sleepy eyes, - Lo, at your glances my weak soul dies. - - Woman you are - With a face so fair; - But the snake must mar - All the woman there. - Your eyes affright, but your smiles ensnare. - - -Such a poor room it was, with a well-worn carpet, shabby furniture, a -dingy mirror over the fireplace, and a mean sordid look everywhere. -The bright sunshine, pouring in through the dirty windows, showed up -the weak points of the apartment in the most relentless manner. Great -folding-doors at one side half open, showing an untidy bedroom beyond, -and on the other side the many-paned windows, veiled by ragged -curtains, looked out into Jepple Street, Bloomsbury. - -There was a shaky round table in the centre of the apartment, on which -was spread a doubtfully clean cloth, and on it the remains of a very -poor breakfast. An egg half eaten, a teacup half filled, and a portion -of bread on the plate showed that the person for whom this meal was -provided had not finished, and, indeed, she was leaning on the table -with her elbows, looking at a copy of the _Daily Telegraph_. - -A noticeable woman this, frowning down on the newspaper with tightly -closed lips, and one whom it would be unwise to offend.. After a pause -she pushed the paper away, arose to her feet, and marching across to -the dingy mirror, surveyed herself long and anxiously. The face that -looked out at her from the glass was a remarkable one. - -Dark, very dark, with fierce black eyes under strongly marked -eyebrows, masses of rough dark hair carelessly twisted up into a heavy -coil, a thin-lipped, flexible mouth and a general contour of face not -at all English. She had slender brown hands, which looked powerful in -spite of their delicacy, and a good figure, though just now it was -concealed by a loose dressing-gown of pale yellow silk much -discoloured and stained. With her strange barbaric face, her gaudy -dress, Mrs. Belswin was certainly a study for a painter. - -Mrs. Belswin, so she called herself; but she looked more like a savage -queen than a civilised woman. She should have been decked with -coloured beads, with fantastic feathers, with barbaric bracelets, with -strangely striped skins, as it was she was an anomaly, an incongruity, -in the poor room of poor lodging-house, staring at her fierce face in -the dingy mirror. - -Mrs. Munser, who kept the establishment, acknowledged to her -intimate friend, Mrs. Pegs, that the sight of this lady had given -her a turn; and certainly no one could blame cockney Mrs. Munser, for -of all the strange people that might be seen in London, this lithe, -savage-looking woman was surely the strangest. Indian jungles, African -forests, South American pampas, she would have been at home there, -having all the appearance and fire of a woman of the tropics; but to -see her in dull, smoky London--it was extraordinary. - -After scrutinising herself for a time, she began to talk aloud in a -rich full voice, which was broken every now and then by a guttural -note which betrayed the savage; yet she chose her words well, she -spoke easily, and rolled her words in a soft labial manner suggestive -of the Italian language. Yet she was not an Italian. - -"Twenty years ago," she muttered savagely, "nearly twenty years ago, -and I have hardly ever seen her. I must do so now, when Providence has -put this chance into my hands. They can't keep a mother from her -child. God's laws are stronger than those of man. Rupert would put the -ocean between us if he could, but now he's in New Zealand, so for a -time I will be able to see her, to speak to her, to hold her in my -arms; not as her mother,--no, not as her mother,--but as her paid -servant." - -She turned away from the mirror with a savage gesture, and walked -slowly up and down the room with the soft sinuous movement of a -panther. Her soft silk dress rustled as she walked, and her splendid -hair, released by her sudden movement, fell like a black veil over her -shoulders. She thrust the tresses back from her temples with impatient -hands, and her face looked forth from the cloud of hair, dark, sombre, -and savage, with a flash of the fierce eyes and vicious click of the -strong white teeth. - -"Curses on the man who took me away from her. I did not care for him, -with his yellow hair and pink face. Why did I go? Why was I such a -fool? I left her, my own child, for him, and went out into the world -an outcast, for his sake. God! God! Why are women such fools?" - -For a moment she stood with uplifted hands, as if awaiting an answer; -but none came, so, letting her arms fall, she walked back to her -chair, and lighting a cigarette, placed it in her mouth. - -"I daren't use a pipe here," she said, with a discordant laugh, "it -would not be respectable. But Spanish women smoke cigarettes, Russian -women smoke cigarettes, so why should not the Maori woman smoke them -also. Respectable, eh! Well, I'm going to be respectable now, when -I've answered this." - -This was an advertisement in the paper, which read as follows-- - -"Wanted, a companion for a young lady. Apply by letter, Dombrain, 13, -Chintler Lane, City." - -"Apply by letter," muttered Mrs. Belswin, with a sneer. "Indeed I -won't, Alfred Dombrain. I'll apply in person, and I think I'll obtain -the situation. I'll hold it, too--hold it till Rupert returns, and -then--and then----" - -She sprang to her feet and blew a cloud of smoke with a mocking laugh. -"And then, my husband, I'll match myself against you." - - - "Salve dimora casta e pura." - - -The singer was coming slowly upstairs, and, as he finished the line, -knocked at the door. - -"Stephano," said Mrs. Belswin, with a frown, glancing at the clock; -"what can he want so early? Avanti." - -The door opened and Stephano, the singer, a tall, lithe Italian, with -a beaming smile, presented himself and burst out into a torrent of -greeting. - -"Buon Giorno cara mia! Ah, my beautiful Lucrezia! my splendid Norma! -how like an angel you look this morning. Gran dio che grazia. Signora, -I kiss your hand." - -He dropped on one knee in an affectedly theatrical manner and pressed -his lips to Mrs. Belswin's hand, upon which she twitched it away with -a frown, and spoke roughly to her adorer. - -"What do you want, Ferrari?" - -"Niente! niente! but to pay a visit of ceremony." - -"It's not customary to pay visits of ceremony at ten o'clock in the -morning. I wish you would go away. I'm busy." - -"Che donna," said the Italian. With a gesture of admiration, and -taking off his hat, sat down on the sofa. - -Stephano Ferrari was a handsome man in a wicked way. He was tall and -slender, with a dark, expressive face, white teeth, which gleamed -under his heavy black moustache, wonderfully fine eyes, and a bland, -ingratiating manner. English he spoke remarkably well, having been for -many years away from his native land, but had a habit of interlarding -his conversation with Italian ejaculations, which, in conjunction with -his carefully-learnt English, had a somewhat curious effect. Being the -tenor of an opera company in New York, he had become acquainted with -Mrs. Belswin, who was also in the profession, and had fallen violently -in love with this splendid-looking woman, who had so many of the -characteristics of his countrywomen. Mrs. Belswin did not reciprocate -this passion, and treated him with marked discourtesy; but this only -added fuel to the fire of his love, much to her annoyance, as Ferrari -had all the ardour and violence of his race strongly developed, and -was likely to prove dangerous if she did not return his passion, a -thing she felt by no means inclined to do. - -At present he sat smiling on the sofa before her, adjusted his bright -red tie, ran his fingers through his curly hair, and then twisted the -ends of his moustache with peculiarly aggravating complacency. - -"Don't you hear what I say?" said Mrs. Belswin, stamping her foot -angrily. "I'm busy. Go away." - -"Bid me not fly from those star-like eyes," sang the Signor, rolling a -cigarette with deft fingers. "Ah, che bella musica. If the words were -but my beautiful Italian instead of this harsh English. Dio! It hurts -the throat, your speaking--fog-voiced pigs that you are." - -"Take your abuse and yourself somewhere else," replied Mrs. Belswin, -bringing her hand down sharply on the table. "I tell you I'm busy. You -never leave me alone, Stephano. You followed me over from America, and -now you stay beside me all day. Why do you make such a fool of -yourself?" - -"Because I love thee, carissima. Let me light this; not at thine -eyes--stelle radiante--but from thy cigarette. Grazia!" - -Mrs. Belswin knew of old that when Ferrari was in this humour nothing -reasonable could be expected from him; so, resigned to the inevitable, -she let him light his cigarette as he wished, then, flinging herself -down on her chair, looked moodily at him. - -"How long is this foolery going to last?" she demanded caustically. - -"Till you become the Signora Ferrari." - -"That will never be." - -"Nay, angela mia--it will be some day." - -"Was there ever such a man?" burst out Mrs. Belswin, viciously. "He -won't take no for an answer." - -"Not from thee, Donna Lucrezia." - -"Don't call me Donna Lucrezia. - -"Perchè?" - -"Because I'm tired of opera. I'm tired of you. I'm tired of -everything. I'm going to leave all the old life and become -respectable." - -"The life of a singer is always respectable," declared Ferrari, -mendaciously. "You mean to leave me, Signora?" - -"Yes, I do." - -"Ebbene! we shall see." - -"What claim have you on me? None. I met you in America two years ago. -We nag together for a time, and because of that you persecute me with -you ridiculous attentions." - -"I love thee." - -"I don't want your love." - -"Veramente!" - -"No!" - -She spoke defiantly, and folding her arms stared steadily at her -persistent lover. The Italian, however, was not at all annoyed. He -simply threw his half-smoked cigarette into the teacup, and rising -from his seat stood before her smiling and bland as ever. - -"Non e vero, Signora? Ebbene. I am the same. We met in San Francisco -two years ago. I was a singer of opera. I obtained for you -engagements. I loved you. Carissima, I love thee still! You are cold, -cruel, you stone-woman, bella demonia. For long time I have been your -slave. You have given me the kicks of a dog. Pazienza, I finish soon. -I have told you all of myself. You have told me all of yourself. I -come to this fog land with you, and now you say, 'Addio.' Bellissima, -Signora, but I am not to be talked to like a child. I love you! and I -marry you. Ecco! You will be Signora Ferrari. Senza dubbio!" - -Having thus delivered himself of his determination with many smiles -and gesticulations, Signor Ferrari bowed in his best stage manner, sat -down in his chair and began to roll another cigarette. Mrs. Belswin -heard him in silence, the clenching of her hands alone betraying her -anger, but having had two years' experience of the Italian's -character, she knew what to do, and controlling herself with an -effort, began to temporise in a highly diplomatic manner. - -"I suppose no woman could be indifferent to such love as you profess, -Stephano, and some day I may be able to answer you as you wish--but -not now, not now." - -"And why, cara mia?" - -"Because I am going to see my daughter again." - -"Your daughter?" - -"Yes! You know I told you all my past life. I was a fool to do so, as -it gives you a certain hold over me. But I am a lonely--woman. Your -manner was sympathetic, and so--well it's only natural I should wish -to confide in some one." - -"So you confided in me. Per l'amor di Dio, Signora. Do not be sorry, I -am simpatica! I feel for you. Ah, Dio! It was a terrible story of your -husband, and the parting in anger. Basta! Basta! Think of it no more." - -"I must! Do you think I can forget the past by a simple effort of -will? Happy for me, happy for all, if such a thing could be. But--I -have forgotten nothing. That is my punishment!" - -"And now, cara?" - -"Now I am going to see my dear daughter again." - -"She is in London, then? Ah, che gioja." - -"Yes! she is in--in England." - -"And il marito?" - -"He is at the other end of the world." - -"Bene. Let him say there!" - -Mrs. Belswin nodded her head in savage approval, then began to walk to -and fro, talking rapidly. - -"While he is away I have a plan. In the paper there is a notice -requiring a companion for my daughter." - -"How do you know?" - -"Because it is put in by a Mr. Dombrain. He is Rupert Pethram's -solicitor. Oh, I know him, better than he thinks. All these years I -have been away from my child I have watched over her. Ah, yes! I know -all of her life in New Zealand. I have good friends there. I found out -when her father brought her to England, and that is why I came over -here so quickly. I intended to see her again--to speak to her--but -without revealing I was her unhappy mother. But--I was afraid of -Pethram. Yes, you may smile, Stephano, but you do not know him. I do." - -"E incrédibile. You who fear no one." - -"I do not fear him physically," she said proudly, with a savage flash -from her fierce eyes. "I fear no man in that way. But I am afraid -because of my daughter. She thinks I am dead. It is better than that -she should know I am a divorced, disgraced woman. If Sir Rupert were -angry he might tell her all, and then--and then--oh, God! I could not -bear to see her again. She would despise me. She would look on me with -scorn. My own child. Ah, I should die--I should die!" - -The tears actually came into her eyes, and for a moment softened their -fierceness. This woman, hard and undisciplined, with savage instincts -derived from a savage mother, yet felt the strong maternal instinct -implanted in the breast of every woman, and quailed with terror as she -thought of the power her former husband had to lower her in the eyes -of her daughter. Ferrari, of course, could not understand this, having -been always accustomed to think of Mrs. Belswin as an untamed tigress, -but now she had a touch of feminine softness about her which puzzled -him. - -"Ah! the strangeness of women," he said philosophically. "Ebbene, now -il marito is away, what will you do?" - -"I'm going to see Mr. Dombrain, and obtain the situation of companion -to my own daughter." - -"Not so fast, Signora! She will know you." - -"No; she will not know me," replied Mrs. Belswin softly; "she does not -remember me. When I left her she was a little child. She thinks I am -dead. I go to her as a stranger. It is hard; it is terribly hard. I -will see her. I will speak to her. I will perhaps kiss her; but I dare -not say, 'child, I am your mother!' Ah, it is cruel--but it is my -punishment." - -"It is a good plan for you, cara mia! But about me, you forget your -faithful Stephano!" - -"No, I do not," she said coaxingly, for she was afraid he would spoil -all, knowing what he did; "but you must wait. I want to see my -daughter--to live with her for a time. When my husband returns he will -know me, so I must leave before he sees me. Then I will come back to -thee, carissima." - -"Basta!" replied Ferrari, with great reluctance. "I do not wish to -keep you from the child. I am not jealous of il marito." - -"You've no cause to be--I hate him." - -"Look, then, the love I bear you, carissima mia. Though all your life -I know. Though you have had husband and lover, yet I wish to make you -mine." - -"It is strange," said Mrs. Belswin, indifferently. "I am not a young -woman; my good looks are going; my past life is not that of a saint; -and yet you would marry me." - -"Because I love thee, carissima," said Ferrari, taking her hand. "I -have loved many before, but none like thee, bella demonia. Ah, Dio, -thou hast the fierceness of the tiger within thee. The hot blood of -Italy burns in thy veins, my Lucrezia Borgia. I am weary of tame women -who weep and sigh ever. I am no cold Englishman, thou knowest. The -lion seeks but the lioness, and so I come to thee for thy love, stella -adorata." - -He caressed her softly as he spoke these words in his musical voice, -and the woman softened under his caress with feline grace. All the -treachery and sleepiness of the panther was observable in this woman; -but under the smoothness of her manner lay the fierceness of her -savage nature, which was now being controlled by the master hand of -the Italian. - -"You will let me go to my daughter, then," she said in a soft, languid -voice, her fierce eyes dulling under the mesmeric influence of his -gaze. - -"As you will. I can deny thee nothing, regina del mia vita." - - - - -CHAPTER IV. -WHAT MRS. BELSWIN HAD TO SAY. - - - "The deeds we do, though done in heedless ways, - May have the shaping of our future lives; - And, stretching forth their long arms from the past, - May alter this and that in such strange fashion - That we become as puppets in their hands, - To play the game of life by old events." - - -Mr. Dombrain's office, situate in Chintle Lane, was a shabby little -place consisting of three rooms. One where his clients waited, another -occupied by three clerks constantly writing, and a third where Mr. -Dombrain himself sat, like a crafty spider in his web waiting for -silly flies. The three rooms were all bad, but Mr. Dombrain's was the -worst; a square, low-roofed apartment like a box, with a dim twilight -atmosphere, which filtered in through a dirty skylight in the roof. -This being the case, Dombrain's desk was lighted by a gas-jet with a -green shade, fed by a snaky-looking india-rubber tube attached to the -iron gas-pipe projecting from the wall above his head. - -The heavy yellow light flaring from under this green shade revealed -the room in a half-hearted sort of fashion, illuminating the desk, -but quite unable to penetrate into the dark corners of the place. On -the writing-table were piles of papers, mostly tied into bundles with -red tape, a glass inkstand, a pad of pink blotting-paper, three or -four pens, all of which were arranged on a dingy ink-stained green -cloth in front of a row of pigeon holes, full of loose letters and -legal-looking documents. - -In front of this table sat Mr. Dombrain in a heavy horsehair-covered -chair, and near him were two other chairs of slender construction for -the use of clients. Along the walls more pigeon holes crammed with -papers, a tall bookshelf filled with hard-looking law books, which had -a second-hand look of having been picked up cheap, a ragged carpet on -the well-worn floor, and dust everywhere. Indeed, so thickly lay the -dust on books, on floor, on papers, on desk, that the whole room -looked as if it had just been opened after the lapse of years. The -chamber of the Sleeping Beauty, perhaps, and Mr. Dombrain--well no, he -was not a beauty, and he never was sleeping, so the comparison holds -not. Indeed he was a singularly ugly man in a coarse fashion. A large -bullet-shaped head covered with rough red hair, cut so remarkably -short that it stood up stiffly in a stubbly fashion, a freckled face -with a coarse red beard clipped short, cunning little grey eyes, -rather bleared by the constant glare of the gaslight in which he -worked, and large crimson ears. Dressed in a neat suit of black -broadcloth, he appeared singularly ill at ease in it, and with his -large stumpy-fingered hands, with clubbed nails, his awkward manner, -his habit of stealthily glancing out of his bleared eyes, Mr. Dombrain -was about as unsuited a person for a lawyer as one could find. There -was nothing suave about him to invite confidence, and he looked as if -he would have been more at home working as a navvy than sitting behind -this desk, with his large red hands clumsily moving the papers about. - -Three o'clock in the afternoon it was by Mr. Dombrain's fat-faced -silver watch lying on the table in front of him, and as the lawyer -noted the fact in his usual stealthy fashion, a timid-looking clerk -glided into the room. - -"Yes?" said Dombrain interrogatively, without looking up. - -"If you please--if you please, sir, a lady," stammered the timid -clerk, washing his hands with invisible soap and water, "a lady -about--about the situation, sir." - -"Humph! I said the application was to be by letter." - -"But--but the lady, sir?" - -Mr. Dombrain looked complacently at his nails, but said nothing. - -"But--but the lady, sir?" repeated the timid clerk again. - -"I said the application was to be by letter." - -The clerk, seeing that this was the answer he was expected to deliver, -went sliding out of the room; but at the door encountered the lady in -question, dressed in black, and closely veiled. - -"Madam," he stammered, growing red, "the application was to be by -letter." - -"I preferred to come personally." - -As she spoke, low though her voice was, Mr. Dombrain looked up -suddenly with a startled look on his face. - -"Can you see me, Mr. Dombrain?" - -He arose slowly to his feet, as if in obedience to some nervous -impulse, and with his grey eyes looking straight at the veiled woman, -still kept silence. - -"Can you see me, Mr. Alfred Dombrain?" - -The lawyer's red face had turned pale, and looked yellow in the -gaslight. The hot atmosphere of the room evidently made him gasp, used -as he was to it, for he opened his mouth as if to speak, then, closing -it again, signed to the clerk to leave the room. - -Left alone with his visitor, Dombrain, still maintaining the same -position, stood watching her with a mesmeric stare as she glided into -one of the chairs beside the table. - -"Won't you sit down, Mr. Alfred Dombrain?" - -His face was suddenly suffused with a rush of blood, and he sat down -heavily. - -"Madam! who are you?" - -"Don't you know? Ah! what a pity; and you have such a good memory for -voices." - -"I--memory--voices," he stammered, moving restlessly. - -"Yes; why not, Mr. Damberton?" - -"Hush! For God's sake, hush! Who are you? Who are you?" - -The woman flung back her veil, and he recoiled from the sight of her -face with a hoarse, strangled cry. - -"Jezebel Pethram!" - -"Once Jezebel Pethram, now Miriam Belswin. I see you remember faces as -well as voices--and names also. Ah! what an excellent memory." - -Mr. Dombrain _alias_ Damberton collected his scattered senses -together, and, going over to a small iron safe set in the wall, -produced a tumbler and a bottle of whisky. Mrs. Belswin looked at him -approvingly as he drank off half a glass of the spirit neat. - -"That's right; you'll need all your Dutch courage." - -Quite forgetting the demands of hospitality, Dombrain replaced the -bottle and glass in the respectable safe, and resumed his seat at the -table with his ordinary bullying nature quite restored to him by the -potent spirit. - -"Now, then, Mrs. Pethram, or Belswin, or whatever you like to call -yourself," he said, in a harsh, angry tone, "what do you want here?" - -"I want you." - -"Ho, ho! The feeling isn't reciprocal. Leave my office." - -"When I choose." - -"Perhaps a policeman will make you go quicker," growled Dombrain, -rising. - -"Perhaps he will," retorted Mrs. Belswin, composedly; "and perhaps -he'll take you along with him." - -"Infernal nonsense." - -"Is it! We'll try the experiment, if you like." - -Mr. Dombrain resumed his seat with a malediction on all women in -general, and Mrs. Belswin in particular. Then he bit his nails, and -looked at her defiantly, only to quail before the fierce look in her -eyes. - -"It's no use beating about the bush with a fiend like you," he growled -sulkily, making a clumsy attempt to appear at his ease. - -"Not a bit." - -"I wish you'd go away," whined Dombrain, with a sudden change of -front. "I'm quite respectable now. I haven't seen you for twenty -years. Why do you come now and badger me? It isn't fair to pull a man -down when he's up." - -"Do you call this up?" sneered Mrs. Belswin, looking round the dingy -office. - -"It's up enough for me." - -The woman grinned in a disagreeable manner, finding Mr. Dombrain's -manner very amusing. She glanced rapidly at him with her fierce eyes, -and he wriggled uneasily in his chair. - -"Don't look at me like that, you witch," he muttered, covering his -face with his large hands. "You've got the evil eye, confound you." - -Mrs. Belswin, leaning forward, held up her forefinger and shook it -gently at the lawyer. - -"It won't do, my friend; I tell you it won't do. You've tried -bullying, you've tried whining; neither of them go down with me. If -you have any business to do you've got to put it aside for me. If you -have to see clients you can't and won't see them till I choose. Do you -hear what I say, you legal Caliban? I've come here for a purpose, Mr. -Dombrain--that, I believe, is your present name--for a purpose, sir. -Do you hear?" - -"Yes, I hear. What is your purpose?" - -She laughed; but not mirthfully. - -"To tell you a story." - -"I don't want stories. Go to a publisher." - -"Certainly. I'll go to the Scotland Yard firm. Hold your tongue, sir. -Sneering doesn't come well from an animal like you. I have no time to -waste." - -"Neither have I." - -"That being the case with both of us, sit still." - -Mr. Dombrain stopped his wriggling and became as a stone statue of an -Egyptian king, with his hands resting on his knees. - -"Now I'll tell you my story." - -"Can't you do without that?" - -"No, my good man, I can't. To make you understand what I want I must -tell you all my story. Some of it you know, some of it you don't know. -Be easy. It's short and not sweet. Listen." - -And Mr. Dombrain did listen, not because he wanted to, but because -this woman with the fierce eyes had an influence over him which he, -bully, coarse-minded man as he was, could not resist. When he -recollected what she knew and what she could tell, and would tell if -she chose, a cold sweat broke out all over him, and he felt nerveless -as a little child. Therefore, for these and divers other reasons, Mr. -Dombrain listened--with manifest reluctance, it is true, but still he -listened. - -"We will commence the story in New Zealand twenty years--say -twenty-two years ago. One Rupert Pethram, the younger son of a good -family, come out there to make his fortune. He made it by the simple -process of marrying a Maori half-caste, called Jezebel Manners. You -see I don't scruple to tell everything about myself, dear friend. -Well, Mr. and Mrs. Pethram got on very well together for a time, but -she grew tired of being married to a fool. He was a fool, wasn't he?" - -She waited for a reply, so Dombrain, against his will, was forced to -give her one. - -"Yes, he was a fool--to marry you." - -"The wisest thing he ever did in his life, seeing what a lot of -property I brought him. But I couldn't get on with him. My mother was -a pure-blooded Maori. I am only half a white, and I hated his cold -phlegmatic disposition, his supercilious manners. I was--I am -hot-blooded, ardent, quick-tempered. Fancy a woman like me tied to a -cold-blooded fish like Rupert Pethram. Bah! it was madness. I hated -him before my child was born; afterwards I hated him more than ever. -Then the other man came along." - -"There always is another man!" - -"Naturally! What would become of the Divorce Court if there wasn't? -Yes, the other man did come along. A pink and white fool. My husband -was a god compared to Silas Oates." - -"Then why did you run away with Oates?" - -"Why indeed! He attracted me in some way, I suppose, or I was sick of -my humdrum married life. I don't know why I left even Rupert Pethram -for such a fool as Silas. I did so, however. I gave up my name, my -child, my money, all for what?--for a man that tired of me in less -than six months, and left me to starve in San Francisco." - -"You didn't starve, however." - -"It is not my nature to act foolishly all my life. No, I did not -starve. I had a good voice, which I managed to get trained. I had also -a good idea of acting, so I made a success on the operatic stage as -Madame Tagni." - -"Oh! are you the celebrated Madame Tagni?" - -"I was. Now I am Mrs. Belswin, of no occupation in particular. I sang -in the States; I sang in New Zealand----" - -"You didn't sing in Dunedin?" - -"No, because my husband was there. Do you know why I came to New -Zealand--a divorced, dishonoured woman? No, of course you don't. I -came to see my child. I did see her, unknown to Rupert or to the child -herself. I was in New Zealand a long time watching over my darling. -Then I went again to the States, but I left friends behind me--good -friends, who kept me posted up in all the news of my child Kaituna. -Since I left her twenty years ago like a fool, I have known everything -about her. I heard in New York how Rupert had lost all his money, -owing to the decrease in the value of property. I heard his elder -brother had died, and that he had come in for the title. He is Sir -Rupert Pethram; I ought to be Lady Pethram." - -"But you're not," sneered Dombrain, unable to resist the opportunity. - -She flashed a savage glance at him and replied quietly. - -"No, I am Mrs. Belswin, that's enough for me at present. But to go on -with my story. I heard how my husband had brought our child home to -the old country, and leaving her there had returned to New Zealand on -business. When this news reached me, I made up my mind at once and -came over here. I found out--how, it matters not--that my husband's -legal adviser was an old friend of mine, one Alfred Damberton----" - -"Hush! not that name here!" - -"Ah, I forgot. You are the respectable Mr. Alfred Dombrain now. But it -was curious that I should find an old friend in a position so likely -to be of use to me." - -"Use to you?" groaned Dombrain, savagely. - -"Yes; I have seen your advertisement in the paper for a companion for -a young lady. Well, I have come to apply for the situation." - -"You?" - -"Yes. Personally, and not by letter as you suggested in print." - -Mr. Dombrain felt that he was in a fix, and therefore lied, with -clumsy malignity. - -"That advertisement doesn't refer to your daughter." - -"Doesn't it?" said Mrs. Belswin sharply. "Then, why refer to my -daughter at all just now?" - -"Because!--oh, because----" - -"Because you couldn't think of a better lie, I suppose," she finished, -contemptuously. "It won't do, my friend, I tell you it won't do. I'm -not the kind of woman to be played fast and loose with. You say it is -not my daughter that requires a chaperon." - -"I do! yes I do!" - -"Then you lie. What do you think private detectives are made for? Did -you think I came here without having everything necessary to meet an -unscrupulous wretch like you!" - -"I thought nothing about you. I thought you were dead." - -"And wished it, I daresay. But I'm not! I'm alive enough to do you an -injury--to have your name struck off the roll of English solicitors." - -"You can't!" he retorted defiantly, growing pale again. "I defy you." - -"You'd better not, Mr. Damberton! I'm one too many for you. I can tell -a little thing about your past career which would considerably spoil -the respectable position you now hold." - -"No one would believe you against me. A respectable solicitor's word -is worth a dozen of a divorced woman." - -"If you insult me I'll put a knife in you, you miserable wretch!" said -Mrs. Belswin, breathing hard. "I tell you I'm a desperate woman. I -know that you have advertised for a chaperon for my daughter, and -I--her mother--intend to have the situation under the name of Mrs. -Belswin." - -"But your husband will recognise you." - -"My husband is out in New Zealand, and will be there for the next few -months. When he returns I will deal with him, not you. This matter of -the chaperon is in your hands, and you are going to give the situation -to me. You hear, gaol-bird--to me!" - -Dombrain winced at the term applied to him, and jumped up with a -furious look of rage. - -"I defy you! I defy you!" he said in a low harsh voice, the veins in -his forehead swelling with intense passion. "You outcast! You Jezebel! -Ah, how the name suits you! I know what you are going to say. That -twenty years ago I was in gaol in New Zealand for embezzlement. Well, -I own it--I was. I was a friend of your lover, Silas Oates--your lover -who cast you off to starve. I lost money betting. I embezzled a large -sum. I was convicted and sentenced to a term of imprisonment. Well, I -worked out my term! I left the colony where, as Alfred Damberton, I -was too well known to get a chance of honest employment, and came to -England through America. I met you again in America. I was fool enough -to think Silas Oates might help me for old time's sake. I found he had -left you--left you alone in 'Frisco. You were little better than a -vile creature on the streets; I was a gaol-bird. Oh, a nice pair we -were! Outcasts, both you and I." - -He passed his handkerchief over his dry lips as he paused, but Mrs. -Belswin made no sign in any way, but simply sat looking at him with a -sneer. - -"When I left you," resumed Dombrain, hurriedly, "I came to England--to -my father. He was a lawyer in the country. He received me well--took -me into his office and admitted me into partnership. When he died I -came up to London, and have prospered since. I have changed my name to -Alfred Dombrain, and am respected everywhere. Your husband does not -know my story. He was recommended to me by a friend, and he has -employed me for some years. I have his confidence in every way. I am a -respectable man! I have forgotten the past, and now you come with your -bitter tongue and spiteful mind to tear me down from the position I -have so hardly won." - -He dropped down exhausted into a chair; but Mrs. Belswin, still -smiling, still sneering, pointed to the safe. - -"Take some more whiskey. You will need it." - -"Woman, leave me!" - -"Not till I leave as chaperon to my child." - -"That you shall never have." - -"Oh yes, I shall!" - -"I say you shall not! You can go and tell my story where you please; I -shall tell yours; and we'll see who will be believed--Alfred Dombrain, -the respectable, trusted lawyer, or Mrs. Belswin, the divorced woman! -Bah! You can't frighten me with slanders. There is nothing to connect -Dombrain the solicitor with Damberton, the convict." - -"Indeed! What about this?" - -She held up a photograph which she had taken out of her pocket--a -photograph resembling Mr. Dombrain, but which had written under it-- - - -_Alfred Damberton_. - - -"You may alter your face," said Mrs. Belswin maliciously, "but you -can't very well alter your handwriting. And now I look at you, I -really don't think there is much alteration. A beard when there used -to be only a moustache, more wrinkles, less smiles. Oh, I think any -one will recognise this for you." - -Dombrain made a snatch at the photograph, but she was too quick for -him. - -"Not quite. This is my evidence against you. I heard in America, -through my useful detectives, that you were lawyer to my husband; so, -thinking I might require your help, and knowing I shouldn't get it -without some difficulty, I took the trouble of writing to New Zealand -for a full report of your very interesting case. You've cost me a good -deal of money, my dear sir; but they pay well on the opera-stage, so I -don't mind. I have all the papers telling your little story. I have -this photograph with your own signature, proving the identity of -Damberton with Dombrain; so taking all things into consideration, I -think you had better do what I ask." - -She had so completely got the better of Mr. Dombrain that she had -reduced him to a kind of moral pulp, and he leaned back in his chair -utterly crushed. - -"What do you want?" he asked feebly. - -"I want the situation of chaperon to Miss Kaituna Pethram. - -"If I give it to you, as I can, will you hold your tongue -about--about--my past life?" - -"Yes, certainly; provided that you never disclose that the divorced -Mrs. Pethram has anything to do with the respectable Mrs. Belswin." - -"I agree to all you say." - -"You will give me the situation?" - -"Yes." - -"I am engaged, then?" - -"You are." - -"As chaperon to Miss Pethram?" - -"Yes; as chaperon to Miss Pethram." - -Mrs. Belswin arose with a smile of triumph and took her leave. - -"Beaten all along the line, I see. Let this be a lesson to you, my -dear friend, never to put your thick head against a woman's wits!" - - - - -CHAPTER V. -THE PRODIGAL SON. - - - "Oh, what becomes of our prodigal sons - When worried by troublesome debts and duns. - When fatherly loving is quite worn out, - And how to exist is a matter of doubt? - Well, some go writing in London town, - A few rise up and a lot fall down, - Many as squatters go south of the line - And 'tend to their sheep instead of their swine, - Dozens in African jungles now rest, - Numbers ranch in the far wild west; - But have they full or an empty purse, - Have they lived decently or the reverse, - Married or single, wherever they roam - Our prodigal sons in the end come home." - - -When Mr. Clendon, Vicar of Deswarth, preached on the parable of "The -Prodigal Son" he little thought that it would one day be applicable to -his own offspring. Yet such was the case, for Tobias Clendon--called -after that celebrated character in the Apocrypha--came home from -Oxford, where he was supposed to be studying for the Church, and -resolutely refused to become a curate, with the chance of a possible -bishopric somewhere about the forties. The fact is, the young man had -contracted the fatal habit of scribbling, and having had a few -articles on dogcarts, poetry, Saint Simonism--such was the wideness of -his range--accepted by friendly editors, had resolved to devote his -energies to literature. He had not ambition enough to become a great -writer, nor enough modesty to sink to the level of a literary hack; -but seeing a chance of earning his bread and butter in an easy -fashion, he determined to take advantage of it and get through life as -happily as possible. Having, therefore, made up his mind to be a -scribbler of ephemeral essays, verse, stories--anything that paid, in -fact--he had also made up his mind to tell his respected parent, but, -having a wholesome dread of said parent, was afraid to do so. - -Chance--meddlesome goddess--helped him. - -He was rusticated for an amusing escapade arising from a misuse of -spirits--animal spirits and--and--other spirits. Unfortunately, the -college authorities did not look at the affair precisely in Toby's -way, so they banished him from Alma Mater, whom Toby henceforward -regarded as an unjust step-mother. - -Being thus summarily treated, he went home to Deswarth, and was -received by his respectable parent with as strong language as his -position as vicar allowed him to use. - -Clendon _père_ was a dry-as-dust old gentleman, who was always -grubbing among antique folios, and he had sketched out his son's life -in black and white. Clendon _fils_--this is the parental prophecy--was -to be a curate, a vicar, edit a Greek play--something of Æschylus for -choice--blossom into a full-blown bishop, keep a holy but watchful eye -on any possible vacancy in the sees of York or Canterbury, and die as -high up in the Church as he could get. It was truly a beautiful -vision, and Bookworm Clendon, burrowing in out-of-way libraries, -looked upon this vision as a thing which was to be. - -But then that terrible _cacoeihes scribendi_, which spoils so many -promising Bishops, Lord Chancellors, Prime Ministers, had infected -the wholesome blood of Toby, and, in obedience to the itch, he -scribbled--he scribbled--oh, Father Apollo, how he did scribble! -Having scribbled, he published; having published he showed his printed -compositions to his father; but that gentleman, despising modern -print, modern paper, modern everything, would not look at his son's -effusions. - -This narrow-mindedness grieved Toby, as he had hoped to break the -matter gently to his reverend sire; but as this could not be done, -instead of shivering on the brink like a timid bather, he plunged in. - -In plain English, he told his father that he wished to be a -Shakespeare, a Dickens, a Tennyson, a--a--well select the most famous -writers in the range of literature, and you have the people whom Toby -wished to emulate in a nineteenth century sense. - -After this the deluge. - -No prophet likes to have his prophecies proved false, and Mr. Clendon -was no exception to the rule. Having settled Toby's career in life, he -was terribly angry that Toby should presume to unsettle it in any way. -Not be a curate, not be a vicar, not be a bishop--what did the boy -expect to be? - -The boy, with all humility, stated that he expected to be a Dickens, a -George Eliot. - -"George Eliot, sir, was a woman." - -Well, then, a Walter Scott. Had his father any objections? - -The reverend bookworm had several. - -First objection.--Literature has no prizes. Money? Yes. Fame? Yes. But -no official prizes. If you go into the law, you may hope some day to -sit on the woolsack, which is stately but uncomfortable. If you prefer -the Church, you may attain the dignity of a bishop--even of an -archbishop. In medicine you may become physician to the court, and -physic royalty, which entails large fees and a chance of populating -the royal vaults in Westminster Abbey. Even in painting, the -presidentship of the Royal Academy is not beyond the reach of a -conventional painter who does not startle his generation with too much -genius. All these things are worth striving for, because they smack of -officialism. But literature--oh, shade of Richard Savage, what prize -is there in literature? - -Suggestion by Toby.--The Poet Laureateship. - -Which has no salary worth speaking of attached to it; and rhymes to -order are seldom rhymes in order. No, the Laureateship is out of the -question; therefore literature has no prizes. - -Second objection.--Literature is a good stick, but a bad crutch,--a -remark of Walter Scott, which was uttered in the primeval times of -scribbling. Still, according to Mr. Clendon, who knew nothing past -that period, it held good to-day. If Toby went in for literature, how -did he expect to live till the fame period, seeing that he could earn -but little, and the paternal purse-strings were to be closed tightly? -Poetry. It doesn't pay. - - - Verse - Is a curse; - Doesn't fill the purse. - - -Rhyme and reason both, according to Clendon _père_. Novels! Pshaw, the -field is overrun by three volume rubbish by talented lady scribblers. -Essays! No one wants essays when Lamb and Addison can be bought -cheaply. Altogether, literature has no money in it. - -Third objection, and strongest.--You were intended for the Church; and -you must carry out my plans, even if against your own judgment. - -Having thus stated his objections, Clendon _père_ ordered Toby to take -holy orders at once, and think no more of the draggle-tailed muse and -all her tribe. - -Toby refused. - -His father used clerical bad language. - -Toby left the room. - -His father cut him off with a shilling, and bade him leave the -paternal roof, which he did. - -Here endeth the first Book of Tobias. - -In London Toby had a hard time. He went through the mill, and did not -like it. He sounded the depths of the London ocean, which contains all -kinds of disagreeable things which appear not on the surface--fireless -grates, abusive landladies, obdurate editors, well-worn clothing. Oh, -it was certainly an unpleasant experience, but Toby sank to rise, and -never forgot, when wandering amid this submarine wreckage of London, -that he was a gentleman and had one definite object in view. - -If a man keep these two things in mind, they are bladders which will -float him to the surface among successful crafts. - -Therefore Tobias Clendon rose--slowly at first, then rapidly. - -He wrote articles about the wreckage amid which he wandered, and had -them accepted by editors, who paid him as little as they could. -Afterwards he scribbled comic songs for opulent music-hall artistes, -which contained the latest ideas of the day and a superfluity of -slang. These efforts brought him into contact with the theatrical -profession, which is renowned for its modesty, and he put new wine -into old bottles by patching up old burlesques. In this cobbling he -was very successful, and what with one thing and another, he got on -capitally. From burlesques he advanced to little curtain raisers; he -wrote short abusive stories for charitably-minded society papers, -scathing articles on books by celebrated writers, in which he proved -conclusively that they did not know their business as novelists, and -altogether became a sort of literary Autolycus, being a picker-up of -unconsidered trifles in the literary line. This brought him in a good -income, and in a few years he actually could face his bankers without -blushing. Then he took a holiday, and during such holiday went to -Marsh-on-the-Sea, where he met Miss Valpy, who reminded him about his -father, and then---- - -"I am," said Toby, sententiously, "a prodigal son. I have lived in a -far country, and eaten husks with London swine. Unlike the young man, -however, I have risen above the profession of swineherd. I have become -friends with Dives, and he has bidden me to feasts where I have fared -sumptuously. The prodigal son began with money and ended with swine. I -began with swine and end now with money. This is a distinct -improvement on the old parable; but now 'I will arise and go to my -father.' I'm afraid he won't kill the fatted calf, but I don't -particularly mind as I detest veal; it's indigestible. He won't fall -on my neck because he's not a demonstrative old gentleman, but still -I'll go, especially as there is no dear brother to make things -unpleasant. My Lares and Penates I will collect, and the country of my -fathers will see me once more." - -With this idea in his mind, Toby, who had left home in a third-class -carriage, returned in a first-class, and was puffed up accordingly. -With all such pomposity, however, he took a common sense view of -things with regard to the reception committee, and walked to the -vicarage with a becoming air of humility. He had left his father -grubbing among relics of Fust and Caxton, and on his return found him -still grubbing--a little older looking, a little dryer--but still -stranded among rare folios of the middle ages. Toby saluted this -paternal ghoul, and was received kindly, the ghoul having a heart -concealed somewhere in his anatomy. - -"I am glad to see you again, Tobias," said Clendon _père_, with marked -cordiality. "I am a clergyman, and you offended me by not making the -profession hereditary. However, I am also a father, and I have missed -you very much, my boy--very much indeed--shake hands." - -Which Toby did, and actually surprised a tear on the parchment cheek -of his father, which touch of nature making them both akin, had a -marked effect on the soft heart of the young man, and he fell into the -arms of his sire. - -Thus far the parable was excellently interpreted. - -But the fatted calf. - -Ah! it was truly an excellent beast, that same calf, for it consisted -of several courses, and the wine was undeniable. Clendon _père_ looked -after his cellar as well as his folios, and after a good dinner father -and son clasped hands once more under the influence of '47 port, which -made them both sentimental. - -"You will stay with me, Tobias, and comfort my declining years?" - -"Certainly, father; but you will let me go to London occasionally?" - -"Oh, yes, Tobias; you must attend to your business. By the way, what -is your business?" - -"That of a scribbler." - -"Ah! Richard Savage and Grub Street. Never mind, my boy, I've got -money enough for us both." - -"No, not Grub Street. Nous avons change tout cela, eh, father! I make -about five hundred a year." - -"What!--what, at scribbling?" - -"Yes." - -"Dear me," remarked Clendon _père_, eyeing his port, "what a lot of -money there must be in the world." - -"My dear father, literature has improved since the Caxton period." - -"But printing has not, Tobias. No, no! Nowadays they use flimsy paper, -bad type----" - -"But the matter, father; the contents of a book." - -"I never read a modern book. Pish! You can't teach an old dog new -tricks. I don't believe in your cheap literature." - -"It's a good thing for me, at any rate, father." - -"Of course. It's an ill wind that blows nobody any good." - -"Well, this wind has blown me to you with five hundred a year." - -"Good, good! Yes, folios make one narrow. You shall expand my mind, -Tobias. You shall bring me into contact with the nineteenth century. -But I won't read any books but your own." - -"I don't write books." - -"No? Well, I'm thankful for small mercies. How long are you going to -stay with me?" - -"Till you grow tired of me." - -"Then, Tobias, you are settled here for the rest of your life." - -"My dear father. By the way, I want to ask a friend of mine down -here." - -"Not a woman?" - -"No; I haven't got that far yet. A fellow called Archie Maxwell. He -used to go to school with me, and we're great chums. - -"Tobias, no slang. You mean you are a David and Jonathan?" - -"I do. That's about the size of it." - -"Eheu, hinc illæ lachrymæ. I like not the nineteenth century talk. It -grates on the ear." - -"I beg your pardon, father; but can I have Archie Maxwell down?" - -"Certainly. Is he also in Grub Street?" - -"Oh, no! He's an engineer." - -"On the railway?" - -"No; a civil engineer--builds bridges." - -"Well, well, let the young man come; but he'll find it dull here." - -"Oh no, he won't, because you see, father, there's a lady." - -"Eh!" - -"Miss Kaituna Pethram, whom he loves." - -"Ho, ho! I know the young lady. She is a parishioner of mine. Her -father came into the title a year ago, and has gone out to New Zealand -again, leaving his daughter in charge of Mrs. Belswin." - -"Mrs. Belswin?" - -"Yes! a very charming lady who acts as chaperon." - -"Poor Archie." - -"What, are you afraid of the dragon who guards the golden apples?" -said the bookworm with great good humour. "Pooh! pooh! in my time -young men were not such faint-hearted lovers. If he really adores this -nymph of the ocean--she comes from New Zealand I believe--he'll soon -propitiate the dragon." - -"Is it an amiable dragon?" - -"Humph! I'm afraid not! Your Hercules must be stout-hearted." - -"What a pity Mrs. Valpy and her daughter are not the chaperons still." - -"Eh! why I think Miss Valpy requires a chaperon herself, but perchance -no Hercules eyes that golden fruit." - -Silence on the part of Tobias, and a blush on his cheek. - -"Tobias! Tobias," said his father, with uplifted finger, "you've been -looking over the garden wall of the Hesperides, and the golden fruit -of the Valpys tempts you. Eh! my son, you also are in love--with Miss -Valpy." - -"Yes." - -"And your friend is in love with Miss Pethram." - -"Yes." - -"And you both intend to stay with me for a time, so as to be near your -inamoratas." - -"If you please, father." - -Mr. Clendon smiled grimly and finished his glass of port, which he -really felt he needed. - -"Cupid! Cupid! what have I done that thus I should be Sir Pandarus of -Troy in my old age. Tobias, go to bed." - -"Good-night, father;" and he vanished. - -Sir Pandarus groaned. - -"Farewell, oh, lovely peace! I dwell no more under the shade of thy -desirable olive. Four lovers in one parish, and I the vicar thereof. -Alas! Alas! The Prodigal Son I sent abroad with curses has returned, -and he hath brought back his curse with him. Eheu infelici." - - - - -CHAPTER VI. -THE DRAGON. - - - "An elderly dragon with cold grey eyes, - Tongue that gibes at a lover rash, - Ears quite deaf to pathetic sighs - Uttered by men who are scant of cash. - - "But when a millionaire comes to woo, - The dragon inspires him not with fear. - Her sole idea of love that is true - Is measured by so many pounds a year." - - -Thornstream Manor, the residence of the Pethrams for many generations, -was a quaint old house, surrounded by pleasant grounds. A grey -weather-beaten structure of two stories, built on a slight rise, on -which were wide terraces down to the green lawns below, which were -girt some distance away by a circle of ancient trees. The house itself -was a long, low, embattlemented place between two sharply pointed -gables, beneath which were diamond-paned oriel windows. Along the -front other wide low windows, and a massive door set in a heavy stone -porch. The roofs above of deep-red tiles, with twisted chimneys here -and there, and the whole house covered with a clinging garment of dark -green ivy, as if to shelter it from the cold winds blowing across the -park. Seen at the end of the drive as it emerged from the trees, the -white terraced rise topped by the grey ivy-covered house, with the -tint of red afforded by the roof, looked singularly peaceful and -pleasant. The goddess with the olive branch had established herself in -this pleasant domain, and a brooding air of Sunday quiet pervaded the -place, as if it were indeed that delightful Castle of Indolence -whereof one James Thomson discourseth so pleasantly. - -The grounds were also charming--wide stretches of green lawn, -flower-beds filled with homely cottage flowers, still stone-rimmed -ponds, where broad-leaved water-lilies kept the sun from grilling the -hoary carp in the depths below. An antique dial with its warning -motto, and on the verge of the lush glass, heavily foliaged trees -making pleasant shades for the timid deer browsing round their gnarled -boles. White pigeons flashed in the blue sky round the grey walls of -Thornstream, or nestled among the trees with gentle cooings, while a -glimpse could be obtained every now and then of lazy cows in distant -meadows, chewing the cud of contentment. It was one of those scenes of -intense quiet which are only to be seen in full perfection in the -pleasant lands of pastoral England, a home, a veritable home, which -one engaged in the turmoil of the world would remember with regretful -longing. Peace, absolute peace, that most desirable of all blessings -was here. Peace, which youth scorns but which age prizes, brooded over -the homestead, and the Sleeping Beauty herself might have dreamed away -her hundred years in this happy English mansion without being -disturbed in any way. - - - "And on an English home--grey twilight poured, - On dewy pastures, dewy trees, - Softer than sleep--all things in order stored, - A haunt of ancient Peace." - - -"I never understood those lines of Tennyson until I saw Thornstream." - -It was Kaituna who was speaking--Kaituna arrayed in a cool white -dress, standing on the terrace in the early morning looking over the -peaceful scene spread out before her. The birds were singing joyously -in the trees, the cool dew was lying on the grass, and this young -girl, reared in a far-distant country, was now viewing with dreamy -eyes the pleasant land of England. - -Beside her was Mrs. Belswin, in a simple dress of black serge, with -all her splendid hair smoothed firmly back, and a pensive look in her -fierce eyes--eyes which had now lost in a great measure their savage -expression, and which filled with soft maternal love when they rested -on the straight slim form of her daughter. In the sordid lodging in -Bloomsbury, in a gaudy dress, with her real nature unrestrained in any -way, she had looked like a savage; but now, with all her feelings well -under control, her sombre dress, and her demure look, she appeared -quite civilized. The savage was there, however, all the same, and -should occasion arise to excite her in any way, a keen observer could -easily see that the thin veneer of civilization would vanish, and the -true instinct of the uncivilized being would flash forth, with a force -all the greater for suppression. Her voice also had altered, as it was -no longer strident or harsh in its tones, and in replying to Kaituna's -remark anent Tennyson, it was as soft and sweet as that of a -Quakeress. - -"It is very beautiful in a mild way," she said quietly; "but I'm -afraid I should grow weary of this everlasting tranquillity." - -"Oh, Mrs. Belswin, I'm sure that truer happiness can be found here -than in the world." - -"I dare say you are right, Kaituna; but the sentiment sounds curious, -coming from one so young." - -"It's the fault of my colonial training," replied Kaituna, with a -smile. "Life in New Zealand is very quiet, you know. When I came -home with papa I was quite bewildered by the noise and turmoil of -London--every one rushing here and there--restless crowds in the -streets, chattering women in the houses--no rest, no pause, no quiet. -Oh, it was terrible." - -"And down here?" - -"Down here it is charming. One can dream dreams in this delicious old -place, and take life easily, not at the railroad speed of London -folk." - -"You are too young for a hermit, Kaituna." - -"Oh, but I'm not a hermit, I assure you. I'm fond of gaiety. I -adore balls and garden-parties. I'm never tired of riding and -tennis-playing, but I can get all those in the country, and can live -slowly, which I like. The hurry-skurry of town life would kill me." - -"You like England, then?" - -"Oh, very much, very much indeed! It's a wonderful country; but my -home has my dearest love. Life there is so pleasant, so steady-going. -You can take pleasure at your own time, if you want to. Here in -England it is all fever and excitement. When I stayed in London I felt -as if it were a nightmare with the gas and glare and endless streets, -with their endless crowds rushing on--on, without rest or pause. Ah, -if you saw New Zealand I am sure you would like it. Do you know New -Zealand?" - -"No," answered Mrs. Belswin, quietly. "I do not know New Zealand; but -I have been in Melbourne." - -"Ah, that's too much like London." - -"Say rather San Francisco. Melbourne is wonderfully like 'Frisco." - -"Are you an American, Mrs. Belswin?" - -"Yes; I was born in New Orleans." - -"Then you are----" - -"A Creole," finished Mrs. Belswin, quickly. "Yes, you can tell that -from my appearance. I have black blood in my veins. In America it is -thought a crime. Here it doesn't matter." - -"I've got black blood in my veins also," said Kaituna, with a flush in -her olive-tinted cheek; "that is Maori blood. My mother was the -granddaughter of a chief." - -Mrs. Belswin moved a few steps away, as she could not trust herself -to speak, so tumultuous were the feelings raging in her bosom. Her -child--her own child, and yet she dare not take her to her bosom and -tell her the truth. The girl's innocent words wounded her to the -quick, and it needed all the stoical resignation of her savage nature -to enable her to preserve a calm demeanour. - -"I don't remember my mother at all," went on Kaituna, idly leaning her -arms on the terrace. "She died when I was a child; but I often picture -her to myself." - -"And the picture?" asked Mrs. Belswin, unsteadily, her face turned -away. - -"Oh, a tall, beautiful woman, with dark eyes and haughty bearing. -Proud to all, but loving to me. I once saw a picture of Pocahontas, -and I always fancied my mother a woman like that--wild and free and -majestic. Ah, it was a great sorrow to me that she died. I should have -loved her so. I used to envy other girls when I saw them with their -mothers, because I have none. Oh, it must be very, very beautiful to -have a mother to take care of you--to whom you can appeal for comfort -and sympathy; but--but--Mrs. Belswin, why, you are crying!" - -She was crying--crying bitterly, and the tears ran down her dark -cheeks in great drops that showed how much she was moved by the girl's -idle words--tears that were caused by the terrible agony of carrying -on the part she was playing. Kaituna, in great wonder, approached her; -but at the light touch of the girl's fingers the woman shrank back -with a low cry of fear. - -"Don't touch me!--don't touch me, child!" - -Kaituna paused with a puzzled look on her face, upon which Mrs. -Belswin dried her eyes hurriedly, and took the girl's hand. - -"I beg your pardon, Kaituna," she said, with forced composure, "but -you must not mind me, my dear. I am not very well at present. My -nerves are out of order." - -"I hope I have said nothing to vex you?" - -"No, dear, no! But I--I had a little child of my own once, -and--and--and she died." - -"Oh, I am so sorry!" cried Kaituna, touched to the heart by this -pathetic confession. "I should not have spoken as I did." - -"You did not know, my dear. It was not your fault. I lost my little -girl many years ago, but the wound is quite fresh, and it bleeds on -occasions. I am all right now, Kaituna--don't look so dismayed. We -have all our skeletons, you know. Mine--mine is a little child!" - -"Dear Mrs. Belswin," said Kaituna, touching her with tender fingers, -"I have only known you a fortnight, it is true, but there is something -about you that draws me to you. I don't know what it is, as I don't -make friends easily, but with you, why, I feel as if I had known you -all my life." - -"My dearest!" replied Mrs. Belswin, taking the girl in her arms with -fierce affection, "you do not know how happy your words have made me. -If my daughter had lived, she would have been just like you now--just -like you. Let me give you my love, dear--my dead love that has starved -for so many years." - -She pressed the girl to her breast, but Kaituna hesitated. As she had -said, she was not ready in making new friends, but there was something -in the tones of Mrs. Belswin's voice, something about the look in her -eyes, in the pressure of her arms, that sent a thrill through her, -and, hardly knowing what she did, with sudden impulse she kissed the -woman on the mouth, upon which Mrs. Belswin, with an inarticulate cry, -leant her face on the girl's shoulder and burst into tears. - -Was it Nature that was working here to bring mother and daughter -together?--Nature, that has her secret springs, her mysterious -instincts, which enable those of one flesh to recognise one another by -some hidden impulse. Who can tell? Science dissects the body, analyses -the brain, gives hard and fast reasons for the emotions, but there is -something that escapes her prying eyes, something that no one can -describe, that no one has seen--a something which, obeying the laws of -being, recognises its affinity in another body, and flies forth to -meet it. We boasted scientists of the nineteenth century have -discovered a great deal about that wonderful being--man, but there is -one secret which is hidden from all save God Himself, and that is the -secret of maternal instinct. - -Suddenly they were disturbed by the sound of the gong, and hastily -drying their tears--for Kaituna had been crying as much as Mrs. -Belswin--they went in to breakfast. - -Such a pleasant room, with bright, cheerful paper chintz-covered -furniture, and the white cloth of the table covered with hearty -country fare. Mrs. Belswin took her seat at the head of the table to -pour out the coffee, and Kaituna sat at the side, looking over the -bunch of homely flowers, brilliant among the dishes, out on to the -fair country beyond. By the side of her plate Kaituna found a letter -with the New Zealand postmark on it, and, knowing it came from her -father, opened it at once. - -"Papa will be back in three months," she said, when she had finished -reading it. "His business will not take him so long as he expected." - -"What is the business, dear?" asked Mrs. Belswin, with her face bent -over her plate. - -"Selling land. You know, my mother brought him a good deal of -property, and he is now going to sell it." - -"Going to sell it!" reiterated Mrs. Belswin, in angry surprise. "Why -is he going to do that?" - -Kaituna was rather astonished at her tone, on seeing which Mrs. -Belswin hastened to excuse herself. - -"I beg your pardon, my dear," she said apologetically, "but I thought -land in the colony was so very valuable?" - -"So it is; but papa desires to establish himself in England altogether -now that he has come in for the title, so he wishes to sell his New -Zealand property and invest the money in some other way; besides the -value of property in the colony has decreased of late years." - -"You seem to be well up in the subject, Kaituna." - -"I could hardly help being so! Papa was always talking about the -Government and their dealings with the land. You see, Mrs. Belswin, -politics with us are more domestic than here. In England they deal -with kings and governments, but there we attend to the welfare of the -people--the parcelling out of the land, and all those kinds of things. -I'm afraid I've got but a hazy idea of the true facts of the case, but -you understand what I mean." - -"Oh, I understand," replied Mrs. Belswin, composedly--and so she did, -a deal better than Kaituna herself. "So your papa is coming home in -three months. I suppose you will be very pleased to see him?" - -"Oh, yes. I am very fond of my father. We are more like brother and -sister than anything else. People say that papa is supercilious and -haughty, but I never saw it myself." - -"He could hardly be so to you." - -"No! he is all that is good and kind. I try to make him as happy as -possible, for it was a heavy blow to him when he lost my mother." - -Mrs. Belswin turned away her head to conceal a sneer. - -"So I try to supply my mother's place as much as possible." - -"I'm sure you succeed," said Mrs. Belswin warmly; "he can hardly miss -your mother when he has you beside him." - -"That's what he says, but of course I know he says it only to please -me. A daughter cannot supply the place of a wife." - -"In this case it seems she can," said the lady caustically; "but what -will he do when you marry?" - -Kaituna blushed and cast down her eyes. - -"Well, I--I have not thought of marriage yet." - -"Oh, Kaituna!" - -"No, really," said the girl, raising her clear eyes to Mrs. Belswin's -face. "I should not think of marrying without gaining papa's consent." - -"Then you have not seen the prince yet?" - -"The prince?" - -"Yes, the fairy prince who is to awake the sleeping beauty." - -Kaituna blushed again, and laughed in rather an embarrassed manner. - -"Dear Mrs. Belswin, what curious things you say," she replied -evasively. "I have not seen any one in New Zealand I cared about, and -since my arrival in England I have lived so quietly that I can hardly -have met the fairy prince you speak of." - -"When the hour arrives the fairy prince comes with it," said Mrs. -Belswin, oracularly. "My dear, you are too charming to remain with -your father all your life, as I am sure he must acknowledge himself. -Have the young men of to-day no eyes or no hearts that they can see my -Kaituna without falling in love with her?" - -"I'm sure I don't know. No one has spoken to me of love yet." - -"Ah! it's not the speaking alone, dear! You are a woman, and the -instinct of a woman can tell what a man means without him using his -tongue." - -"But you see I am not versed in love lore." - -"My dear, you are a delightful girl in the first days of innocence. I -am glad to see that the bloom of maidenhood is not rubbed off you by -premature wisdom in love-affairs. A girl who flirts from her teens -upwards, loses that delightful unconsciousness which is the great -charm of a maiden. You have lived secluded in New Zealand. You are -living secluded in England, and the world has passed you by. But the -fairy prince will arrive, my dear, and his kiss will awaken you from -the sleep of girlhood into the real life of womanly existence." - -"I thought such things only happened in novels." - -"No, dear, no. They happen around us every day. When you see a girl -with a blushing face and a dreaming eye, or hear a young fellow -singing gaily for very joy of life, you will know that love has come -to them both, and they are telling each other the beautiful story, in -the full belief that such story is quite original, though Adam told it -to Eve in the garden of Eden." - -"It sounds delightful," sighed the girl, pensively. "I suppose you are -telling me your experience." - -"My experience," echoed Mrs. Belswin, flushing acutely. "No, child, -no. I have had my romance, like all women, but it ended sadly." - -"I understand," said Kaituna quietly; "you are thinking of your lost -child." - -Mrs. Belswin was about to make some passionate rejoinder, but checked -herself suddenly, and went on eating her breakfast with forced -composure. - -Kaituna also became silent, thinking over what had been said, and -there was no further conversation until the butler entered and handed -the girl a letter. - -"From the vicarage, miss," he said ceremoniously, and retired. - -The letter proved to be from Toby Clendon, being a few lines -announcing the fact that Mr. Maxwell was staying with him, and that -they would both come on that afternoon to Thornstream to renew the -acquaintance so pleasantly begun at Marsh-on-the Sea. - -"What is the matter?" asked Mrs. Belswin, staring in some astonishment -at the rosy face and bright eyes of the girl. "Nothing is wrong, I -hope?" - -"No! no! I'm sure I don't look as if anything were wrong. It's this -letter from Mr. Clendon." - -"Mr. Clendon?" repeated Mrs. Belswin, taking the letter handed to her -by Kaituna. "Is that the charming young fellow we met the other day?" - -"Yes!" - -"Oh, I see he has a friend staying with him, and they are going to -call this afternoon. Kaituna, I am a sorceress--a witch, my dear, I -should have been burnt in the middle ages as a practitioner of the -black art. Give me your hand." - -"What for," asked Kaituna in some confusion, as Mrs. Belswin took her -by the wrist. - -"For a magical ceremony! There! Now tell me. Is Mr. Clendon the -prince?" - -"No! No! No!" - -"That's very emphatic. I mistrust emphasis in a girl. Well, we will -dismiss Mr. Clendon, though he is very delightful. What about Mr. -Maxwell? Ah! Now I know! Your pulse leaped at the name. Your face is -rosy, your eyes are bright. By the white witchcraft I practise I -interpret these signs. You are in love, my dear." - -"No!" - -"And with Mr. Maxwell." - -Kaituna snatched away her hands with a little laugh and covered her -burning face. - -"You the sleeping beauty," said Mrs. Belswin, with mock severity. "My -dear, your sleep is over. The true prince has arrived and the hundred -years are at an end." - -The girl made no reply, but between her fingers one bright eye looked -forth at her chaperon. - -"I will talk to Mr. Maxwell this afternoon, and see if he is a man -worthy of you." - -"Oh, I'm sure he is." - -"Ah! you have betrayed yourself. It is the prince after all. But what -about your father?" - -"My father will not cross me in this." - -"Of course not, provided your prince is rich." - -"Rich or poor; it doesn't matter. Papa will deny me nothing. He is the -kindest man in the world." - -"Humph!" muttered Mrs. Belswin under her breath. "He has altered since -my time, then." - - - - -CHAPTER VII. -THE GARDEN OF HESPERIDES. - - - "In a garden fair you met me, - And I told you all my woes. - Then, in case you might forget me, - I bestowed on you a rose. - - "Love had captive to you brought me, - For I felt his arrow's smart; - So in mercy quick you sought me, - And bestowed on me a heart." - - -Oh, wonderful! wonderful! and thrice wonderful was the soul of Vicar -Clendon seeing that in this mummified body, battered by the assaults -of sixty years, it still kept itself fresh and green in the very -heyday of perennial youth. In spite of his grubbing among dusty books; -in spite of the hardening process of continually celebrating -marriages; in spite of the pessimistic ideas which come with old age, -he could still feel sympathetic thrills when he heard the sighings of -two lone lovers. He should have frowned and looked askance on such -youthful foolery; he should have forgotten the days when Plancus was -consul, and he wooed Amaryllis with bashful courtesy; he should have -preached sermons a mile long on the sin of going to the temple of -Venus, but, strange to tell, he did not. This withered old husk -encased a fresh young soul, and the venerable clergyman felt a boyish -pleasure in the courting of these young men. Is the age of miracles -past, when such things can happen--when sober age can sympathize with -frolic youth without pointing out the follies of the world, as seen -telescopically from a distance of sixty years? No! oh, no! in spite of -cynicism, and pessimism, and various other isms, all belonging to the -same detestable class, there are still those among us whose souls -bloom freshly, though cased in antique frames. - -"Your father," said Archie Maxwell, after making the acquaintance of -the bookworm, "your father, Toby, is a brick." - -"My father," stated Toby solemnly, "is not a brick, for a brick is -hard, and the pater is anything but that. On the contrary, he is as -soft as butter. If you wish to express approval of my progenitor, O -quoter of slang, say that he is the ninth wonder of the world--which -he is." - -"And why, O utterer of dark sayings?" - -"Because he is an old man who can see his son in love without calling -him a fool." - -This was true, and Toby appreciated the novelty of possessing such a -father; demonstrating such appreciation by being a most attentive son, -which exhilarated the old gentleman to such a degree that he became -younger every day in appearance: thereby proving this saying of a -forgotten sage to be true-- - -"The body takes its complexion from the soul, not the soul from the -body." - -Archie Maxwell, having at the cost of many lies postponed his trip to -Buenos Ayres, has duly arrived, and, strange to say, the vicar takes a -great fancy to him. After living for so many years with no other -company than a rusty housekeeper and a library of rustier books, he is -quite delighted at the presence of two young men in the house, and -actually foregoes his after-dinner sleep in order to talk with -them while they smoke their pipes. Archie tells him all his history, -of his travels, his struggles, his income, his aspirations, his -love-affairs--in fact, everything about himself, and the old man's -heart warms towards this handsome, graceless youth, who he sees has -the makings of a fine man about him. He listens sympathetically to the -endless catalogue of Kaituna's charms, to the hopes and fears and -heart-burnings which are part of the disease of love, and then -undergoes the same thing in duplicate from Toby. Indeed, so genial is -he that both the young men wax eloquent on the merits of their -respective Dulcineas, and spare him no detail, however small, of their -perfections. - -As to Toby's suit, Mr. Clendon thinks it will prosper if Thomasina is -that way inclined, as Mrs. Valpy is a widow and would be only too glad -to see her daughter in the safe keeping of such an excellent young -man; but when questioned about Archie's wooing, the sage is doubtful. -He has seen Sir Rupert and thinks him haughty and supercilious--not at -all the kind of man to bestow his daughter on a pauper engineer, -however good his prospects. The best thing he can do is to bid Archie -wait and hope. If Kaituna loves him, parental opposition may be -overcome; but the course of true love never did run smooth, and Archie -must be prepared for trouble. But as gold is refined by passing -through fire, so both these young lovers, if frizzled up in the -furnace of affection, may benefit by the ordeal, and prove their -mutual passions to be strong and enduring, whereas at present it may -merely be the effect of juxtaposition and a desire to pass the time. - -Archie is horrified at this flippant view of the case being taken by -venerable age, and vows by the stars, the moon--yea--by the heart of -his sweet mistress, that the love he bears her is not of to-day or -to-morrow, but of all time, and that nothing shall prevent him -marrying the object of his passion, even if he should have to adopt -that last resource of young Lochinvar--a runaway marriage. - -So things stand at present, and Toby sends a note over to Kaituna, -asking permission to renew their acquaintance with her; then, without -waiting for such permission to be granted--the note being a mere -matter of form--sets off Thornstream-wards with his friend Archibald. - -Before they start on this errand of charity on the part of Toby, and -wooing on the part of Archibald, the sage discourseth. - -"You are going to seek the Garden of Hesperides, but there you will -find no golden fruit. No; the dragons are better employed. They watch -two beautiful maidens, and eye jealously wandering knights, such as -yourselves, who would steal them. I am speaking not of the dragons, -but of the maidens. Nevertheless, from this quest I know not how you -will return. The dragon who guards the princess of Tobias is amenable -to reason, and if the son succeeds in gaining the love of the princess -the father may gain the consent of the dragon. But the other dragon, -Mr. Maxwell, is a fire-breathing beast, and even if you succeed in -overcoming this first danger your princess is still beyond your reach, -because of her father. True, at present he is away, but when he -returns, young man--oh, when he returns!" - -"When he does it will be too late; for I shall have gained the heart -of his daughter." - -"True. When the steed is stolen it is useless to shut the stable-door. -Go, Mr. Maxwell, I see you have all the egotism and confidence of -youth necessary to enable you to achieve this quest successfully." - -So they went. - -It was a bright summer day, and the sun shone brightly in a blue sky -dappled with fleecy clouds. Gently blew the wind through the trees, -rustling their foliage, wherein sang the joyous birds. Thrush and -black-bird and ouzel and redcap piped gaily on the swaying boughs in -very gladness of heart. At intervals there sounded the mellow voice of -the cuckoo, and from the blue sky rained the song of the lark, -invisible from the verdant earth. In the quaint gardens of Thornstream -Manor bloomed the flowers--roses, roses everywhere in rich profusion, -from pale cold buds to deeply crimsoned blossoms. A sudden flame -of scarlet geraniums burns along the foot of the garden wall, and -among their cool green leaves flash the orange circles of the -marigolds. Rosemary dark and sombre, _old man_, with its thin leaves -like grey-green seaweed, form beds of reposeful tint, overlaid by -brilliant coloured flowers, scarlet and blue and yellow; but the -prevailing tint is white. Foxgloves with delicate white bells round -which hum the noisy bees--scattered clusters of pale flushed roses, -other flowers with white petals all streaked and dappled and spotted -with innumerable tints. A beautiful garden, truly, and the thievish -wind stealing odours from the profusion of sweets carried them on -languid wings to Mrs. Belswin and Kaituna, sitting on the terrace. - -They had erected a great Japanese umbrella at one end, and were -sitting beneath it in basket chairs. Between them stood a small -table, on which lay some feminine work and a yellow-backed novel, -but neither the work nor the novel were in requisition, for both -ladies were chatting to Toby and Archie, as they lounged near in their -cool-looking gray suits. Both gentlemen, by kind permission of the -feminine half of the party, were smoking cigarettes, and Mrs. Belswin, -knowing how it would shock Kaituna, bravely suppressed a desire to -have one also. - -Very handsome she looked in her dark dress, with a bunch of crimson -poppies at her breast, but handsomer still looked Kaituna, her pale -olive face delicately flushed as she toyed with a heap of pale white -blossoms, and talked gaily to Archibald. - -"I think instead of spoiling those flowers you might make me a -button-hole," said the audacious Archie in a small voice. - -Kaituna looked doubtful. - -"You have a button-hole." - -"One of my own gathering," he said, throwing it away. "No man can -arrange flowers; now you being a woman----" - -"Can arrange them charmingly. Don't pay me any more compliments, Mr. -Maxwell." - -"Well, I won't, if you give me a button-hole." - -"I have nothing here worth making up," said Miss Pethram, rising -suddenly and letting all the flowers fall on the terrace. "Come down -with me to the garden. Mrs. Belswin, Mr. Maxwell and I are going to -pick flowers." - -"Very well, dear," replied Mrs. Belswin, languidly, "I do not mind so -long as I am not expected to come also." - -"Two's company," muttered Toby softly. - -"What did you say?" asked the chaperon quickly. - -"Oh, nothing. - -"We'll leave you two here to talk," said Kaituna, gaily. "Come, Mr. -Maxwell, you shall choose your own flowers." - -They descended the steps into the garden. - -"I'd rather you did so." - -"I--oh, I should not know which to choose." - -"Then, suppose I suggest something. A red rose, which means love, and -a white rose, which means silence." - -"And the red and white roses together?" - -"Mean silent love." - -"Oh! I see you are versed in the language of flowers. Does it form -part of the education of an engineer?" - -"No, but it does of every young man. Thank you, Miss Pethram. Two red -roses and no white one, that means double love. The love of a girl for -a boy, two buds; of a woman for a man, full blown blossoms." - -"Why do you not say the love of a man for a woman?" - -"Eh! ah, well you know, ladies first always. Let me ask you to put -these two red rosebuds in my coat." - -Kaituna hesitated a moment, and looked down at the green grass, -seeking for some excuse. None feasible enough came into her mind, so, -still with downcast eyes, she took the flowers from his outstretched -hand and placed them in his coat. He was taller than she, and could -just espy her face flushing under the broad-brimmed straw hat, and she -must have felt the devouring passion of his eyes instinctively, for -her hands busied with the flowers trembled. - -"You have given me no white rose, I see," said Archie, in an unsteady -voice, "so I am not compelled to keep silence. May I speak?" - -"No--no--oh, no!" - -She had finished fastening those obstinate flowers with a pin, and -they had revenged themselves by wounding her finger with a thorn. - -"Oh! Oh!" - -"Miss Pethram, what's the matter? Oh, have you hurt your finger?" - -"Yes, but it's not very sore." - -"Why, it's bleeding," he cried in alarm, taking her hand; "let me bind -my handkerchief round it." - -"Oh, no!" - -"Oh, yes! You must obey your doctor. There! that's better." - -He still held her hand, and before she was aware of what he was doing, -bent down suddenly and kissed it. - -"Oh!" she cried, blushing, "you must not do that." - -"Kaituna!" - -"Mr. Maxwell! If you say another word I'll go back to my chaperon." - -"But----" - -"I won't hear another word! So there!" - -Archie looked down disconsolately, not knowing what to say, when -suddenly he heard a gay laugh in the distance, and on raising his head -saw a white figure flitting away across the lawn towards the sun-dial. -He hesitated a moment, and then laughed softly. - -"Faint heart never won fair lady." - -Certainly nobody could accuse Archie Maxwell of being faint-hearted, -for he ran after his sweet enemy with the utmost courage. When he -reached her she was standing by the sun-dial, and the two spectators -on the terrace saw the two actors suddenly appear on the stage. One -spectator--a woman--frowned; the other--a man--laughed. - -"Don't go, Mrs. Belswin," said Toby, seeing she was about to rise. "We -are having such a jolly conversation." - -"That's a very artful remark, but it doesn't deceive me." - -"Artful! I assure you, Mrs. Belswin, I am the most unsophisticated of -men--a perfect child!" - -"So I should judge from your description of London life," said Mrs. -Belswin, drily, leaning back in her chair. "But perhaps you are not -aware, Mr. Clendon, that I am Miss Pethram's chaperon?" - -"Happy Miss Pethram. I wish you were mine." - -"I'm afraid the task of keeping you in order would be beyond my -powers." - -"Do you think so?" observed Toby, sentimentally. He was a young man -who would have flirted with his grandmother in default of any one -better, and Mrs. Belswin being a handsome woman, this fickle youth -improved the shining hours. Mrs. Belswin, however, saw through him -with ease, not having gone through the world without learning -something of the male sex, so she laughed gaily, and turned the -conversation with feminine tact. - -"You are a good friend, Mr. Clendon." - -"I am! I am everything that is good!" - -"Your trumpeter is dead, I see." - -"Yes, poor soul! He died from overwork." - -Mrs. Belswin laughed again at Toby's verbal dexterity, and then began -to talk about Maxwell, which was the subject nearest her heart. The -lady wished to know all about Archie's position, so as to see if he -was a suitable lover for Kaituna, and the man being a firm friend of -the love-lorn swain, lied calmly, with that great ease which only -comes from long experience. - -"Mr. Maxwell is a great friend of yours, isn't he?" - -"Oh, yes! We were boys together," - -"You're not much more now. What is his profession?" - -"He's an engineer! Awfully clever. He'd have invented the steam-engine -if Stephenson hadn't been before him." - -"Would he indeed? What a pity he wasn't born before the age of steam. -By the way, how is he getting on in his profession?" - -"Splendidly! He's been in China, building railways, and at the end of -the year he's going out to Buenos Ayres to build a bridge." - -"He's got no money, I suppose?" - -"Well, no! He's not rich; but he's got great expectations." - -"Has he? But you can't marry on great expectations." - -"No; I can't, but Archie can." - -"Indeed! You forget there are always two people to a bargain of -marriage." - -"There's double the number in this case." - -"How so?" - -"There's Archie, Miss Pethram, Mrs. Belswin, and Sir Rupert Pethram." - -There was a pause after this, as the lady was pondering over the -situation. Toby had his eyes fastened on the two figures at the dial, -and he smiled. Mrs. Belswin, looking up suddenly, caught him smiling, -and spoke sharply-- - -"Mr. Clendon! I believe you to be a sensible man. If my belief is -correct, stop laughing and listen to me." - -Toby became as serious as a judge at once. - -"I am not blind," continued Mrs. Belswin, looking at him, "and I can -see plainly what is going on. As you know, I am responsible to Sir -Rupert Pethram for his daughter's well-being, and this sort of thing -won't do." - -"What sort of thing?" asked Toby, innocently. - -"Oh, you know well enough. Mr. Maxwell making love to my charge is -ridiculous. Sir Rupert would never consent to his daughter marrying a -poor engineer, and I'm not going to have Kaituna's happiness marred -for a foolish love-affair." - -"But what can I do?" - -"Discontinue your visits here, and tell your friend to do the same." - -"He won't do what I ask him." - -"Then I'll take Kaituna away." - -"It's no use. He'll follow. Archie's the most obstinate fellow in the -world, and he's too much in love with Miss Pethram to give her up -without a struggle. Why, do you know, Mrs. Belswin, he gave up a good -billet at Buenos Ayres because it would have taken him away from her." - -"I thought you said he was going out there at the end of the year?" - -"So he is. But it's not half such a good billet. The one he has given -up is worth two hundred pounds a year more." - -"And he gave it up for the sake of Kaituna?" - -"Yes! He's madly in love with her." - -"He was very foolish to jeopardise his success in life because of a -love-affair, particularly when nothing can come of it." - -"But why shouldn't anything come of it? I'm sure you will be a friend -to these lovers." - -"These lovers," repeated Mrs. Belswin jealously. "Do you think Kaituna -loves him." - -"I'm sure of it." - -"You seem very learned in love, Mr. Clendon; perhaps you are in love -yourself." - -A blush that had been absent for years crept into the bronze of Toby's -cheeks. - -"Perhaps I am. I may as well tell the truth and shame the---- - -"Mr. Clendon!" - -"Oh, you understand. I am in love, so is Archie. He loves your charge; -I love another girl. Be a kind, good friend, Mrs. Belswin, and help -Archie to make Miss Pethram Mrs. Maxwell." - -"What about Sir Rupert?" - -"Oh, you can persuade him, I'm sure." - -Mrs. Belswin frowned. - -"I have no influence with Sir Rupert," she said shortly, and rose to -her feet. "Come with me, Mr. Clendon, and we will go to Kaituna." - -"You won't help them?" - -"I can't, I tell you," she replied impatiently. "From all I can see, -your friend seems a true-hearted man, but I shall have to know him a -long time before I can say he is fit for my--for Miss Pethram. But -even if I approve it is of no use. Sir Rupert is the person to give -his consent." - -"Well?" - -"And he'll never give it." - -Toby felt depressed at this, and followed Mrs. Belswin meekly to the -couple at the sun-dial. The said couple, both nervous and flushed, to -all appearances having been talking--Chinese metaphysics. - -"Kaituna, don't you think these gentlemen would like some afternoon -tea?" said Mrs. Belswin sweetly. - -"I dare say they would," replied Kaituna with great composure. "What -do you say, Mr. Clendon?" - -She did not address herself to Archie, who stood sulkily by the dial -following the figures with his finger. Toby glanced from one to the -other, saw they were both embarrassed, and promptly made up his mind -how to act. - -"I'm afraid we won't have time, Miss Pethram," he, replied, glancing -at his watch. "It's nearly four, and we have some distance to walk." - -"Well, if you won't have tea you will take a glass of wine," said Mrs. -Belswin, looking at Archie; then, without waiting for a reply, she -made him follow her, and walked towards the house. - -Toby followed with Kaituna, and surely never were maid or man more -unsuited to each other. He was bold, she was shy. He talked, she -remained silent, till they were in the drawing-room, and then the -feminine element broke forth. - -"Mr. Clendon," she said, in a whisper. - -"Yes! speak low if you speak love." - -"What do you mean?" - -"It's not mine. It's Shakespeare's. By the way, you wanted to say -something." - -"I do! Tell him I didn't mean it." - -She flitted away and Toby gasped. - -"Tell who? Didn't mean what? Things are getting mixed. Thank you, I'll -take a glass of sherry." - -How we all act in this world. Here were four people, each with -individual ideas regarding the situation, and yet they chatted about -the weather, the crops, the country--about everything except what they -were thinking about. Mrs. Belswin and Toby did most of the talking, -but Kaituna and Archie put in a word every now and then for the sake -of appearances. - -At last the young men took their departure, and when left alone with -Kaituna, Mrs. Belswin drew her caressingly to her breast. - -"I like your prince, my dear." - -"I don't." - -"Oh, Kaituna, you've been quarrelling." - -"I haven't! He has! He doesn't understand me." - -"Does a man ever understand a woman?" - -"Of course! If he loves her." - -"Then in this case there ought to be no misunderstanding, for I am -sure he loves you." - -"Oh, do you think so? Do you really think so?" - -"My dear," said Mrs. Belswin, as the girl hid her face on the breast -of the chaperon, "I am quick at judging a man. All women are. It's -instinct. I think Mr. Maxwell an honourable young fellow, and very -charming. He would make you a good husband, but your father will never -consent to your marrying a poor man." - -"Oh, you don't know papa." - -"Don't I?" said Mrs. Belswin grimly, and closed the discussion. - -This was one side of the question--and the other? - -"We have," said Archie, in deep despair, "been to the Garden of -Hesperides, and the dragon has beaten us?" - -"Have you quarrelled with your mash?" asked Toby, leaving allegory for -common sense. - -"My mash! Toby, you are growing vulgar. I did not quarrel with -Kaituna, but we had words." - -"Several hundred, I should think. What was the row?" - -"How coarse you are!" said the refined Archie. "There was no row. I -spoke of myself in the third person." - -"When there are only two people, and those are of the opposite sex, -you shouldn't introduce a third person. Well, what did you say?" - -"I asked her whether she would accept a poor man if he proposed to -her." - -"And she said?" - -"She said 'no.'" - -Archie's face was tragic in its deep gloom, so Toby comforted him. - -"Old boy!" - -"Yes," said the despairing lover. - -"She said she didn't mean it." - -"What! Did she say that to you?" - -"Yes." - -"Toby," cried Archie, with great fervour, "I love that girl!" - -"So you've said a hundred times." - -"And I'll marry her!" - -"Oh, will you?" said Toby, grinning. "I can paint your future: a -little cottage, a nice income, a charming girl----" - -"Yes, yes!" - -"Don't you wish you may get it?" - -"Oh, Toby, if you only knew----" - -"I do know. I know all about it, so don't rhapsodise. And I know -another thing; I'm hungry, so hurry up." - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. -MRS. BELSWIN'S CORRESPONDENCE. - - - "The wisest of plans - A letter upsets, - The penny post bans - The wisest of plans - Tho' woman's tho' man's, - And then one regrets - The wisest of plans - A letter upsets." - - -About three weeks after the visit of Archie and his friend, Mrs. -Belswin was seated on the fallen trunk of a tree in Thornstream Park, -meditating deeply over two letters lying on her lap. Around her the -heavy foliage of the trees rustled in the chilly morning air, above -her the sun shot golden arrows from the blue sky, and below her feet -the lush grass, starred with delicate woodland flowers, sloped gently -down to a babbling brook, the brown waters of which rippled noisily -over its smooth stones. - -But Mrs. Belswin, with a frown on her face, paid no attention to these -things, being occupied with disagreeable thoughts, evoked by the -letters aforesaid; and after a pause she took up one impatiently, in -order to read it for the second time. - - -"Carissima Mia, - -"Why have you not written to me for so long? Every day I say, 'She -will send to me a letter,' and every day I find the postman comes not. -This is not right conduct to him who adores thee, my Lucrezia, and -there is fear in my heart that I may lose thee. I am now singing at -the Theatre Folly, in an _opera comique_ called 'Sultana Fatima,' and -they pay me well, as they should, seeing I leave the grand Italian -Opera for this street music. But that my English is so good, I would -not have been the chief tenor here. It is not hard to sing, and I am -content since I waste not my time and am near thee. But thou, oh my -star adorable, must not stay long from him who hungers for thy smile. -When does the illustrious husband come again? for I know that he will -drive thee back to me, and we will go at once to my beautiful Italy. -Send me a letter and say when thou wilt come to me, or I swear that I -will come to thee in the country, in order to behold thee again. Thou -hast seen thy child those many months; now I will that thou should'st -return. I wait thy answer saying thou wilt return, or I myself will -behold thee in thy village. Cara signora, I kiss your hand, - - "Thine unhappy - "Stephano." - - -When she had finished this, Mrs. Belswin let it fall on her lap, with -a shrug of her shoulders, and picked up the other letter, which -consisted of two lines---- - -"Pethram returns in three weeks, so unless you want trouble you'd -better clear out.--A. D." - -"Had I?" said the reader, sneering. "I'm not so sure about that, Mr. -Dombrain. I'll leave this place when I choose. So Rupert Pethram is -coming home, and I, if I please, can see him. Husband and wife will -meet again after twenty years of separation. How dramatic the -interview will be! I can well imagine it, and yet I am not sure it -will take place. I cannot retain my position as chaperon to Kaituna if -he is in the house. I cannot disguise myself, for Kaituna would ask -the reason--besides, I'm too impulsive to act a part. If I go I part -from my daughter for ever; if I stay, Rupert will certainly recognise -me, and then he will force me to leave the house. What a terrible -position!--to be driven away after a glimpse of paradise; and yet I -can do nothing to help myself--positively nothing." - -She stopped short, with a feeling of deep anger at her helplessness, -but she did not attempt to disguise the truth from herself--she could -do nothing. The law was on the side of her husband, and she could -never hope to regain the position she had forfeited by her former -folly. 'As to Stephano Ferrari---- - -"He'll do what he says," she muttered, glancing at the Italian's -flowery letter. "If I don't go to him, he will come to me, and, with -his hot foreign blood, may create a disturbance. I wouldn't mind for -myself, but Kaituna--I must consider Kaituna. If I refuse to go -with Stephano, he is quite the sort of man to tell her all, and that -would exile me from my daughter more than anything else. Rupert would -make me leave the house; Stephano would lose his temper at what he -calls my obstinacy--I should not care; but if Kaituna knew that I--her -mother--was alive, that I had lost my place in the world and become an -outcast, she would scorn me--my own child! Oh, I could not bear that, -it would kill me!" - -With her face in her hands she rocked to and fro in an agony of grief, -and when she recovered herself somewhat, her countenance, haggard and -worn, showed how bitterly she felt the position in which she was -placed. - -"If I could only die! I wish I could! Hell cannot be worse than the -life I live now. I am near my child, yet dare not tell her I am her -mother; but soon I shall have to go away, and be denied even the poor -consolation of being near her. If only I had the courage to kill -myself! But there, I have the courage, and would die willingly, were -it not for Kaituna. Oh, God! God! I have sinned deeply, but my -punishment is very heavy--heavier than I can bear!" - -She had risen to her feet, and was walking to and fro in the narrow -space of the glade, swinging her arms in a very storm of passionate -grief. The mask she had worn for the last few weeks so carefully was -now thrown aside, and she abandoned herself to her agony of despair in -the most reckless manner. She wept, she cried, she raved, she flung -herself on the ground--in fact, she gave herself up wholly to her mood -of the moment. Truly the quiet English glade had never seen a stranger -sight than that of this savage woman abandoning herself to transports -of impotent fury. - -"Why am I so helpless?" she cried furiously, lifting up her arms to -the blue sky. "If I have sinned, I have been punished. For twenty -years I have borne my punishment, but I can do so no longer. She is my -child--mine--mine--mine! They cannot take her from me. I am her -mother! God gave her to me, and man shall not take her away! I love -her better than her cold fiend of a father; she is my life, my soul, -my existence! If I leave her I shall die. I will not leave her! I will -not leave her! No! no! no!" - -She stamped furiously on the ground, gnashing her teeth with rage, and -staring at the sky with fierce face and clenched hands; but after a -time her fury exhausted itself, and, sitting down on the fallen tree -again, she began to weep bitterly. - -"My little child! oh, my little child! I can do nothing. I must leave -you, and go away alone. Ferrari loves me, but what is his love -compared to yours, dear. You have kissed me, you have placed your arms -round my neck, you have given my starved heart the love it desired; -and now--now I must give up all, and go away--for ever! Oh, cruel! -cruel! And I can do nothing!" - -Rocking herself to and fro, she wept quietly for a time; then, drying -her tears, put the letters in her pocket and rose to go. - -"I must not give way like this," she said to herself as she left the -glade. "It will do no good. I must see how I can manage to retain my -position. Rupert, Stephano, Dombrain--they are all against me. Three -against one, but I'll try my hardest to conquer them. It's a woman's -wit against men's brutality; but I'll fight--I'll fight and win. If I -win, I gain all. If I lose--oh, God! if I lose!--I surrender -everything." - -The morning was very chilly, in spite of its being summer, and Mrs. -Belswin, having all the love for warmth inherent in those born in the -tropics, shivered at the cold east wind, but feeling too upset to -return direct to the house and face Kaituna's inquiring gaze, made up -her mind to take a brisk walk. She wore a heavy sealskin mantle, and -thrusting her hands into the deep pockets, walked quickly against the -wind, thinking deeply over her position. - -It was truly a terrible dilemma in which she now found herself. Exiled -from her daughter for so many years, and all through her own fault, -yet she had been quite unable to stifle the natural instinct in her -heart. It may be that the desire to be near her daughter constantly -was all the stronger because she knew it was out of the question, and -the enforced suppression of her love in her own breast had given the -pleasure of living with Kaituna, even as a servant, a peculiar charm -of its own. It will doubtless be argued by some people that a woman -who could give up her child for the sake of a lover, could not have -had much maternal instinct; but then it must be recollected that Mrs. -Belswin had then acted on the impulse of a moment in doing so, and had -regretted her folly ever since. When she thought of all she had lost -for one moment of folly it made her mad with rage, and she would have -sacrificed anything to regain her forfeited position. - -Thanks to her knowledge of how matters stood, and her own dexterity, -she had been enabled to gain her ends for at least some months, but -now her husband was coming home again she knew that she would have to -seek refuge in flight. She was a bold woman, a determined woman, and -all her life's happiness was at stake, yet she knew it was perfectly -useless to appeal to her husband for pity or help. By her own act she -had forfeited her right to approach him, and the act had brought its -own bitter punishment, by robbing her of the delight of gratifying her -strong maternal instinct. Like a tiger who desires more blood when he -has once tasted it, Mrs. Belswin had just experienced sufficient -delight in being near her child to make her passionately regret having -to depart. Plan after plan she thought of and rejected as useless, -because she saw quite plainly that she could do nothing against the -position held by her husband. Law, society, morality were all against -her, and she could only stand afar off weeping bitterly as she -surveyed the paradise from which she had banished herself. - -"Oh, I could kill Rupert! I could kill him," she thought madly, "but -that would do no good. If I thought it would I should not hesitate. I -dare not tell Kaituna the truth, because she would shrink from me. -Rupert, once he knows I am here will not let me remain. If I sold my -soul it would be useless. I can do nothing except bear my punishment -till I die." - -Suddenly an idea came into her head. Suppose Rupert Pethram were to -die before he came to Thornstream. In that case she would still retain -her position, and be happy for the rest of her life. But then there -was no chance of him dying--a healthy, strong man. And unless -something happened he would return to Thornstream and turn her out on -the world. - -"If the ship would only go down! If God would only unchain the winds -of heaven and dash the ship to pieces on the rocks." - -Mrs. Belswin, as it will be seen, was not a religious woman when she -thought thus, and was willing to sacrifice dozens of human lives in -order to get rid of her enemy. It was simply Balzac's mandarin over -again, and Mrs. Belswin, with her savage disregard of human life, -would have sacrificed all the mandarins in China, yea, China itself, -if by so doing she could have retained her position undisturbed. - -However, there was but small possibility of either mandarin or ship -perishing to please her, so she began to wonder in her own mind how -she could get rid of Pethram before he could arrive at Thornstream. -Ah, if Stephano Ferrari---- - -Stephano Ferrari! The idea came to her like an inspiration, and she -hurriedly thought out a plan. Ferrari loved her, he would do anything -to get her to marry him. Well, she would do so provided he got rid of -Pethram and secured her position with her daughter. Murder! no, not -murder, but suppose Pethram disappeared? Then---- - -Her brain was in a whirl, her throat was dry with excitement, and she -leaned against a fence for a few minutes to keep herself from falling, -for the earth seemed spinning round her and the sky red as blood -before her eyes. With an effort she pulled herself together and looked -around. - -"Mrs. Belk's cottage," she said, with a gasp of relief! "I'll go in -and rest." - - - - -CHAPTER IX -A RUSTIC APOLLO. - - - "The marble statue of an antique god - May win our admiration for a time, - Seeing it lacks not any outward grace, - But stands a type of flesh idealised. - Yet as we gaze in silent wonderment, - We weary of the irresponsive stone, - Because the cold perfection wants a soul." - - -It was without doubt a charming cottage--such as one reads of in a -fairy tale. Clay walls, thatched roof, wide diamond-paned casements, -and twisted chimney, with all the violent colours subdued to a -pleasant neutral tint by the sun and rain, while ivy, rose-trees and -wistaria clambered over all, enclosing it in a network of greenery. - -And the garden--oh, it was a most delightful garden; not too neat, but -all the handiwork of man softened by the gentle touch of nature. Tall -hollyhocks, odorous stocks, crimson-tipped daisies, flaunting dahlias, -and staring sunflowers grew together in riotous sweetness, breaking -bounds here and there as they nodded over the low white fence and -bent across the narrow path leading up to the rose-wreathed trellis -of the porch. There was an apple-tree, too, on one side--a gnarled, -moss-tufted apple-tree, already snowy with white blossoms, and on the -other a low-branched cherry-tree, looking like a frosted twelfth cake. -Pigeons fluttered around the eaves of the cottage, fowls strutted -among the flowers, and over all blazed the hot sun of summer from the -cloud-dappled sky. It was really charming in its rustic -picturesqueness, and Mrs. Belswin, pausing at the gate, looked -regretfully at this vision of bucolic ease so far removed from her own -feverish existence. - -"If I had been a village girl I might have been a good woman," she -thought, walking up to the porch; "but I daresay I should have tired -of this innocent sweetness and gone up to the evil life of London, as -all village beauties have done." - -On knocking at the door it was opened shortly by a tiny woman, old, -shrivelled, and evil-looking enough to have been the witch of the -cottage. Not that Mrs. Belk was ill-looking; on the contrary, she must -have been pretty when young, for she still retained a sufficiency of -beauty to warrant a second glance; but there was a restless look in -her dark eyes, a settled sneer on her thin lips, and a generally -discontented expression on her face which repelled the onlooker. Mrs. -Belswin had an intuitive capability of reading faces, and the first -glance she threw on this little figure with the withered face put her -at once on her guard. On her guard against a cottager! Mrs. Belswin -would have laughed at the idea. Still, the fact remains that Mrs. Belk -bore her character in her face, and Mrs. Belswin at once put herself -on her guard against Mrs. Belk. Hardly probable that these two women -would meet again. The cottager could never have it in her power to -harm the lady; but in spite of the absurdity of the situation, Mrs. -Belswin, with that inherent suspicion created by a long life of -duplicity and watchfulness, did not think it beneath her dignity to -pick and choose her words while talking to this humble woman, in case -chance should turn her into a possible enemy. - -"I beg your pardon," she said slowly; "but I am very tired, and would -like to rest." - -"There's a public a little way on, ma'am," replied Mrs. Belk, -respectfully, by no means inclined to entertain a stranger. - -"I prefer to rest here," said Mrs. Belswin, coolly. "You know me, I -daresay--Miss Pethram's companion." - -"Mrs. Belsin?" said the old woman, doubtfully. - -"Let the lady come in, mother," remarked the slow soft voice of a man -inside the cottage. "Don't you see she looks tired?" - -Whereupon Mrs. Belk with manifest reluctance moved to one side, and -Miss Pethram's companion entered the room to find herself face to face -with the handsomest man she had ever seen. He offered her a chair in -silence, and she sat down thankfully, while Mrs. Belk closed the door, -and the rustic Apollo stood leaning against the table looking at their -visitor. - -Handsome! yes; splendidly handsome this man, in a massive Herculean -fashion. One who would be called a magnificent animal; for there was -no intellect in the fresh-coloured face, no intelligence in the bright -blue eyes, and his whole figure had but beauty and symmetry after the -fashion of a brute. He was very tall--over six feet--with long limbs, -a great breadth of chest, and a small, well-shaped head covered with -crisp locks of curly golden hair. His skin was browned by the sun, he -had a well-shaped nose, sleepy blue eyes, and his mouth and chin were -hidden by a magnificent golden beard which swept his chest. Nature had -lavished her gift of physical beauty on this man, but the casket -contained no jewel, for the soul which would have lent light to the -eyes, expression to the mouth, and noble bearing to the body, was -absent, and Samson Belk was simply a fine animal whom one would admire -like a soulless picture, but tire of in a few moments. Mrs. Belswin's -first thought was, "What a handsome man!" her second, "What a brute he -would be to the woman who loved him!" - -They were a curious couple, the little withered mother and the tall -handsome son, dissimilar enough in appearance to negative the -relationship except for the expression of the face; for there, in the -countenance of the man, appeared the same expression that pervaded the -face of the woman. The eyes were not so restless, because they had -rather a sleepy expression, the sneer on the lips was hidden by the -drooping moustache, and the general look was more of ill-humour than -discontent: but in spite of the physical difference between them, no -one could have helped noticing, by the worst traits of the woman -appearing in the man, that this splendid specimen of humanity was the -offspring of this dwarfish feminine personality. - -"You are Sir Rupert's head bailiff, are you not?" said Mrs. Belswin, -when she had sufficiently admired her host. - -"Yes, madam, I have that honour." - -He spoke in a slow sleepy voice, eminently attractive, and suited to -his appearance; a voice which, in its languor and oily softness, had -an accent of refinement and culture. Yet this man was a simple rustic, -a bailiff, one of the peasant class. It was most perplexing; and Mrs. -Belswin, clever woman of the world as she was, felt herself puzzled. -She was a woman and inquisitive, so she set herself to work to solve -this problem by a series of artful questions. - -"Have you been a bailiff here long?" - -"About four years, madam. I was bailiff to Sir Robert, and when Sir -Rupert came into the title he kindly kept me on." - -"I should think you were fitted for better things." - -Belk gazed at her in a slow, bovine fashion, and a spark of admiration -flashed into his sleepy eyes as he looked at this stately woman who -spoke in such a friendly manner. - -"It's very kind of you to say so, madam, but I have no one to say a -good word for me." - -"Ah! the rich never say a good word for the poor, my lady," said Mrs. -Belk, with fawning deprecation. "If looks go for anything, my Samson -ought to live in a palace. He's the finest wrestler in all the county, -and the best shot, and the most daring rider----" - -"And the poorest man," finished Samson, with a coarse laugh, which -betrayed his real nature. "Aye, aye, mother, if I'd money to play the -swell, I'd cut a dash with the best of these fine, lily-handed gents." - -"What would you do?" asked Mrs. Belswin, curious to find out how -different this man's soul was to his body. - -"Do!" echoed the giant, folding his arms; "why, madam, I'd keep a fine -stable, and race my horses at the Derby. I'd marry a lady, and have a -fine house with servants, and the finest of wine to drink and food to -eat--that's what I'd do." - -"A very modest ambition, truly," said Mrs. Belswin, with a scarcely -concealed sneer. "I presume you would not cultivate your brains." - -"I've had enough schooling," growled Belk, stroking his beard. "Mother -made me learn things, and a fine time I had of it." - -"You were never a good boy, Samson," said his mother, shaking her head -with a look of pride which belied her words. "Handsome is as handsome -does--that's what I always tells him, my lady." - -"If it were handsome does as handsome is, your son would be a clever -man," replied Mrs. Belswin, rising to go. - -Neither Mrs. Belk nor Samson were clever enough to understand this -remark, but after a time a faint idea of what she meant dawned on the -obtuse intellect of the giant, and he smiled approvingly. - -"Won't you have a glass of milk, my lady?" asked Mrs. Belk, dropping a -curtsey. - -"No, thank you!" - -"May I have the honour of showing you the nearest way through the -wood, madam?" said Belk, hat in hand, resuming his polite manner, and -languid mode of speaking. - -"No, thank you, I know my way," answered Mrs. Belswin, coolly; "many -thanks for your courtesy--good-day." - -When she had vanished, Samson Belk stood for some minutes in a brown -study, then, recovering himself with a huge sigh, ordered his mother -to bring him a mug of beer. - -"Eh, she's a fine madam that," he said, as he drank the ale; "got a -spice of the devil in her too. I wish I could marry her." - -"That wouldn't do much good," said his mother contemptuously, "she's -only a companion. Now if you married Miss Pethram, you'd have all this -place, and be master here." - -"Not much chance of that," growled Belk, putting on his hat; "she's in -love with that friend of parson's." - -"A whipper-snapper." - -"Aye, that he is. I could smash him with one hand; not any great -shakes with money either, as I've heard tell. What'll Sir Rupert say -to his courting?" - -"Well, I heard at the great house this morning, that Sir Rupert was on -his way home." - -Belk scowled and shook his broad shoulders in an uneasy manner. He did -not like Sir Rupert, who was a severe master, and therefore was not at -all pleased to hear that his term of liberty would soon be over. - -"I hope accounts are all right, Samson," said his mother anxiously. -"Let Sir Rupert see you've been a good servant, lad." - -"I'm good enough for the wage I get," growled Belk, sulkily; "if Sir -Rupert meddles with me, he'll get the worst of it; I'll stand no man's -handling, d----n me if I do." - -He thrust his hands into his pockets and strolled off defiantly. - -"Where are you going, lad?" asked his mother, as he paused at the -gate. - -"To 'The Badger,'" retorted Mr. Belk, curtly, and hurriedly retreated -so as to escape his parent's expostulations. - -"The lad's always there," said Mrs. Belk to herself as she closed the -door; "he's after no good I reckon. Eh, if I could only get some -money, I'd march him off to America, where he could live like a -gentleman. But there's no chance of that while rich folk have the -handling of the money." - -Meanwhile, Mrs. Belswin was walking rapidly back to the house, -thinking over the curious couple she had just left. - -"Not a bit like the ordinary people," she thought. "The mother's not -to be trusted except as concerns the son, and the son--well, he's -discontented with his lot. I wonder if Rupert finds him a good -servant. He must, or he wouldn't keep him on. But if Mr. Samson Belk -tries any games on with his master, I think he'll get the worst of -it." - -"Good-day, Mrs. Belswin." - -It was Gelthrip, the curate, who saluted her, a lank lean man, with -a hatchet face, lantern-jawed, and clean shaven, not by any means -what the world would term handsome. Dressed in black he looked like a -crow, and his hoarse voice--for he suffered from clergyman's soar -throat--was not unlike the cawing of those dreary birds. He was a -gossip, and very inquisitive. He supported a sick sister, and -professed High Church principles, and it was lucky that he should have -vowed himself to celibacy, for certainly no woman would have taken him -as her husband. He had long bony hands, and cracked his knuckles in -order to punctuate his sentences, and he talked without ceasing, -mixing up religion, gossip, literature, music, art, and science in one -heterogeneous mass of chatter. - -Having drawn the cork of his eloquence by saying Good-day, and -touching his low-crowned hat, Mr. Gelthrip cracked his knuckles -cheerfully, and poured forth a flood of aimless nonsense. - -"Good-day! ah, yes, it is a charming day, is it not. The blue of the -sky, with the lark singing so delightfully. You know Shelley's poem do -you not--Yes--Turner might paint that scene. Puts me in mind of his -Vale of Health, and this place by the way, is very healthy--plenty of -oxygen in the air for weak lungs. Ah--ah, my heart swells with -goodness towards the Creator of all things as I drink in the air. I -think I saw you coming out of Belk's cottage, Mrs. Belswin!" - -"Yes! I went in there to rest for a few minutes." - -"A great contrast, mother and son, Mrs. Belswin. The Witch of Endor -and Apollo, the Far Darter. Yes! but a touching instance of parental -affection, for she is devoted to her son. A devotion of which I regret -to say he's not worthy, Mrs. Belswin, not worthy, my dear lady. He -never comes to church. Passes his time in public-houses, and at -wrestling matches, and horse-races. A most godless young man." - -"But surely Sir Rupert objects to this conduct?" - -"He does not know, Mrs. Belswin. Belk, in a rough fashion, is crafty, -very crafty, but when the baronet returns I have no doubt he will hear -from others of the behaviour of this misguided young man. I deem it my -duty," continued Mr. Gelthrip, inflating his chest, "to inform Sir -Rupert of his servant's misdeeds." - -"I don't think I would do that," said Mrs. Belswin, drily. "Sir Rupert -does not care about his private business being meddled with." - -"Ah, you know Sir Rupert then?" - -Mrs. Belswin bit her lip in vexation, for she saw that she had made a -mistake, and at once hastened to put herself right in the eyes of this -tale-bearer. - -"No! of course not. I only speak from hearsay." - -"Sir Rupert," said the curate in a dogmatic fashion, "does not, I -believe, care about the church, therefore, as you say, he may resent -my interference, but I would not be doing my duty as a clergyman if I -did not warn him of the dissipated ways of his bailiff." - -"Do you think it is kind to deprive the young man of his situation?" - -"In this case, Mrs. Belswin, I do. He is dissipated and neglects his -business. He has the handling of money, and, seeing he is always -betting on races, he may be tempted to--well, you know what I mean." - -"I know this, sir," said Mrs. Belswin, with great spirit, "that you -are about to act a most unworthy part. If this man is as you say, warn -him, remonstrate with him, but don't take the bread out of his mouth -by getting him dismissed. Charity covers a multitude of sins. That -remark is in the Bible, I believe. If so, practise what you preach, -and you will be far more respected than if you drive this man to -despair by taking away his only means of livelihood. Good morning." - -She bowed and walked off, leaving the curate staring after her with -open mouth, the stream of his eloquence being for once dried up. - -Reflections on the part of Mr. Gelthrip.--"Where has this woman been -brought up that she manifests such little reverence for the cloth? A -dangerous woman, I am afraid, and not at all suited to be the -companion of Miss Pethram. I'm afraid I shall have to warn Sir Rupert -about her as well as about Belk. As for Belk! it is my duty--my duty -as a clergyman, to open his master's eyes to the deplorable state of -this young man. He gambles, bets, plays cards, drinks, all these -things entail money, and yet he spends far more than his salary, so I -must warn Sir Rupert of his bailiffs real character. Now, Mrs. -Belswin--ah!" - -There was a good deal of spiteful meaning in the curate's "ah," and -there was no doubt that Mrs. Belswin had made a bitter enemy of this -well-meaning but meddlesome young man. - -Reflections on the part of Mrs. Belswin.--"I've been preaching a -sermon to a man whose duty it is to preach one to me. Saul among the -prophets this time. I'm not sorry, for I hate those meek young men who -make mischief under the pretence of doing good. Why are these -clergymen so meddlesome? It's none of his business to enlighten Rupert -about Belk. If Belk is dissipated, I know Rupert will find it out -quick enough and discharge him. I shouldn't like to be either Rupert -or the curate if such a thing does come to pass, for Belk is a most -unforgiving man. I can see that in his face. I have made an enemy of -this Rev. Meekness. Well, he can't harm me until Rupert comes home, -and then--ah well, I'll see." - - - - -CHAPTER X. -A BOUDOIR CONSULTATION. - - - "If two ladies talk together, - Be it fine or rainy weather, - Subjects three you'll find they handle-- - Love, sans diamonds and a carriage, - Prospects of a wealthy marriage, - Or the latest piece of scandal." - - -What do ladies talk about over five o'clock tea when no male is -present? Ah, that is one of the mysteries of Bona Dea, the ritual -whereof is known to none of the stronger sex. They doubtless discuss -fashions--for no woman, however affecting to despise the pomps and -vanities of this world, can contemplate the raiment of another woman -without blaming or praising the same, according to taste or price. -Very likely they make remarks about their neighbours, and hint, with -nods and winks mysteriously suggestive that--well, you know what. -Nevertheless, men in their clubs do exactly the same thing, and -scandal is by no means monopolized by ladies. However, the question -is: What do they talk about?--and as the votaries of the Bona Dea will -not tell us, we must be content to accept ambiguous smiles and -tightly-closed lips as answer. - -On this occasion, however, the subject under discussion was love, and -four ladies--two married and two unmarried--were talking together on a -very pleasant subject; and the subject was the courting of Tommy Valpy -by Toby Clendon. - -"I must admit," said Mrs. Valpy, in her usual heavy fashion, "that I -was astonished when the young man spoke to me." - -"I wasn't," observed Tommy, with a maiden blush. - -"Ah," from Mrs. Belswin, "forewarned's forearmed. We all know that." - -"I'm very pleased to hear about it," said Kaituna, putting her arm -around Tommy's waist "Mr. Clendon is most delightful." - -"But not so much so as another person," hinted the engaged young lady, -with wicked intuition, whereupon Kaituna grew red, and requested -another piece of cake. - -"Love is all very well," said Mrs. Belswin, who was a practical -person; "but it won't keep the pot boiling. Now about his income." - -"Eight hundred a year," declared Tommy, boldly. "We can live on that." - -"No doubt; but is the eight hundred a year certain?" - -"Well, three hundred is very certain, because it comes from his -father; but the remaining five hundred--well, you know," said Miss -Valpy, hopefully, "literature pays so well nowadays, and Toby's in the -first flight." - -"I don't think so much of his literature," observed Mrs. Valpy, -stirring her tea. "He may or he may not make the income he says, but -the three hundred a year is absolutely certain." - -"I hope you'll be happy, dear," said Kaituna, gaily. "I, of course, -will be bridesmaid." - -Tommy looked at her friend significantly, and then laughed. - -"We will be married together," she whispered confidentially. - -"I'm afraid not. Mr. Maxwell has said nothing----" - -"No? Then he has looked a good deal." - -Both girls laughed again, and then Mrs. Valpy began to explain her -ideas for Tommy's trousseau, which interested every one. - -The bride-elect and her mother were staying for a few days at -Thornstream, and on this evening were going over to dine at the -Vicarage in company with Kaituna and Mrs. Belswin. - -Clendon _père_ was delighted at the choice of his only son, and was -giving this dinner in order to welcome his intended daughter-in-law to -his family circle of two. Tommy got on very well with the vicar, who -liked her vivacity and brilliant manner so much that he was actually -weaned from his beloved library, and the black-letter folios saw less -of their owner than they had done since the time when they had been -purchased. - -Mrs. Valpy was also calmly satisfied with her daughter's engagement, -as her intended son-in-law was a very delightful young man, and, -moreover, had a rich father, the latter fact being the most important -in the good lady's eyes. If he dabbled in literature, well, let him do -so. It would serve to keep him out of mischief; but as for deriving -any solid benefit from novel-writing or play-scribbling, such an idea -never entered Mrs. Valpy's head. All she knew was that Toby was a good -son, and would make a good husband, besides which he could keep his -wife in comfort, so what more could a mother desire? The old lady -therefore sat in Kaituna's boudoir, smiling and nodding over her tea, -completely satisfied with herself and the world. - -"By the way," said Kaituna, when the exhaustive subject of Tommy's -trousseau had come to an end, "you know of course, Mrs. Valpy, that my -father is on his way home." - -"Yes, dear, I heard something about it," replied the old lady lazily. -"When do you expect him for certain?" - -"In about a fortnight." - -"So soon?" said Mrs. Belswin to herself. "In that case I have no time -to lose." - -"You'll be glad to see Sir Rupert, I suppose?" asked Tommy, turning to -the companion. - -"Oh, yes, of course! But I'm not sure if I shall be here when he -arrives." - -"Not here!" ejaculated Kaituna, in dismay. "Oh, Mrs. Belswin!" - -"I have to go up to town, my dear," said that lady, very slowly, "in -order to see a--a friend of mine." - -She hesitated over the last word, knowing in her own heart the errand -which was taking her up to town. - -"But can't you put off your visit for a time?" - -"I'm afraid not." - -Kaituna said nothing, but looked reproachfully at her friend, -whereupon Mrs. Belswin kissed her with a gay laugh. - -"Don't look so scared, my child. I shall only be away for a few days." - -"You will like Sir Rupert, I'm sure," said Mrs. Valpy, who had been -slowly following out a train of thought. "He is a most delightful -man." - -"So I have always heard," replied the chaperon coldly. - -"Perhaps he'll marry again," said Tommy, idly, more for the sake of -saying something than from any idea of Sir Rupert's matrimonial -intentions. - -"No." - -The answer came from Mrs. Belswin, and had escaped her against her -will; but on seeing the surprise her sudden ejaculation had created, -she explained herself with calm grace. - -"Of course I mean that Sir Rupert would surely not think of marrying -when he has this dear child to comfort him." - -"I don't think papa will ever marry again," said Kaituna, in a low -tone. "I wonder at your saying such a thing. He was too fond of my -mother to forget her easily." - -Mrs. Belswin turned away her head and sneered, for she was too well -acquainted with Rupert Pethram's selfish heart to believe that he -regretted her in the least. Seeing, however, that the subject was a -painful one to Kaituna, and by no means relishing it herself, she -hastened to turn the conversation by saying the first thing that came -into her head. - -"By the way, do you know I have an admirer here?" - -"Not the vicar?" cried Tommy, clapping her hands. - -"No; I'm not antique enough." - -"Then Mr. Gelthrip?" - -"Ah, he's too devoted to his sick sister. No! My admirer is that -handsome Mr. Belk." - -"Papa's bailiff," said Kaituna, smiling. "Well, he is very handsome, -but I must confess I don't like his face." - -"Nor do I," declared Tommy, boldly. "He's got the same disagreeable -countenance as his mother." - -"From what I've heard I think he's a very dissipated young man," said -Mrs. Valpy, slowly. - -"I suppose Mr. Gelthrip told you that," remarked Mrs. Belswin, with -curling lip. "So like him. He never opens his mouth except to destroy -a reputation." - -"I'm afraid Belk has no reputation to destroy," laughed Tommy, jumping -up. "But we shall meet the Rev. Gelthrip to-night, and I declare it's -time to dress." - -The clock chimed the half-hour, and the ladies went away to dress, -with the exception of Mrs. Belswin, who remained in her chair absorbed -in thought. - -"In a fortnight," she muttered to herself slowly. "Ah! I must be -prepared for him. I'll try and see him in London, and convince him -that I must stay by my child. If he consents, well and good; if he -refuses----" - -She stopped, drew a long breath, and clenched her hands. - -"If he refuses--I'll see Ferrari." - - - - -CHAPTER XI. -THE ART OF DINING. - - - "If you'd be a healthy sinner, - Eat with judgment when at dinner, - And remember with a shiver - Man is governed by his liver; - Viands rich and wine in plenty - Spoil life's _dolce far niente_. - He who shuns this vital question - Suffers soon from indigestion; - The corner-stone of dissipation - Is to act with moderation." - - -When the sceptre of the Cæsars passed into the hands of St. Peter and -his successors, it carried with it among other fixtures--to use a -legal expression--the art of giving a good dinner. The clergy have, -therefore, always been famous for their attention to creature -comforts, and among the various arts which they rescued from the wreck -of the classic world, the art of dining is certainly one of which they -were most careful. - -In England the fat abbots and portly monks of the past have been -transmuted, through the agency of that royal magician, Henry VIII, -into the comfortable bishops and delectable vicars of the present; but -the change is actually only in the Thirty-nine Articles, and the -science of gastronomy still has its wisest savants among the clergy. - -It is true that some ascetics, wishing to return to the bosom of the -Romish Church, have denied themselves all dainties in favour of -lentils and pulse; but, unlike Daniel and his friends, they are no -fairer for doing so; yet the general run of curates (provided they are -well paid), rectors, vicars, deans, bishops, yea, even archbishops, -are worthy successors to the clerical gourmands of the Middle Ages so -satirised by Rabelais, and are as careful of their cellars and -kitchens as of their churches and parishioners. - -Mr. Clendon, dry-as-dust grubber among ancient folios as he was, by no -means neglected the substance for the shadow, and satisfied his brain, -his stomach, and his palate in equal measure--the former by means of -choice editions, the latter by choice viands; but, truth to tell, he -to all appearances throve more on the library than on the kitchen. - -The number of guests at dinner, according to some gastronomical -worthy, should never be less than the three Graces nor greater than -the nine Muses, so Vicar Clendon had taken this sage advice by -limiting the friends assembled round his hospitable board to eight -people, the sexes being in equal numbers, _i.e_. four of the one and -four of the other. - -The host took in Mrs. Valpy. A most admirable arrangement, as both -were fond of their victuals, and thought eating preferable to talking, -especially when the cook was a good one, as happened in this case. - -Mr. Gelthrip escorted Mrs. Belswin. Fire and water! Sweet and sour! -Black and white! Two galley slaves chained together against their will -could not have been less suited than the clergyman and the companion -were to one another. Good-breeding forbade either resenting the -juxtaposition, so they had smiles on their faces and rage in their -hearts at being thus coupled so unsuitably by their Amphitryon. - -The engaged ones, of course, went dining-room-wards together--a good -omen of the future, in the eyes of both, hinting that they would thus -wander side by side towards the good things of this life. - -Archie was squire to Kaituna. Ecstasy! Rapture! Bliss! Ah, how poor a -language is English when required to express the joy of two lovers -coming together for a whole evening, who have not expected Fate or -Cupid or Mother Venus to be so kind. - -Out of compliment to the month of roses, Vicar Clendon gave his guests -a distinctly pink dinner, which was a novelty, both as regards viands, -wines, and artistic arrangements. In the centre of the white -tablecloth there was an oval, shaped of moist-looking emerald moss, -filled with loose rose-leaves, from the midst of which sprang rich -clusters of the flower in red, in white, and in yellow, set off here -and there by masses of green leaves. No intrusive epergne to hide the -faces of the guests from one another, but a tiny fountain shooting up -a silver thread that fell again in diamond spray over the odorous -blossoms below--rose-wreaths for the white bosoms of the ladies, rose -bouquets with entanglements of delicate maiden-hair fern for the men, -and on imitation rose-leaf menus the names of the dishes in purple -ink. Viands for the most part rose-tinted by an artistic cook, and as -for wines, there was claret deeply red, port amethystine in tint, -sparkling burgundy of rosy hues, and from the roof roseate light -suffused from a red-shaded lamp. The whole prevailing tint of this -unique meal was the rose-red of dawn, and Parson Clendon, smiling -benignly from the head of the table, felt that he had achieved a -distinct success in the way of originality, a thing to be proud of in -this century of used-up ideas. - -"The Romans," observed the vicar, discursively, by way of providing a -subject of conversation, "the Romans would have enjoyed a meal served -up in this fashion." - -"You are thinking of Vitellius," asserted Mr. Gelthrip, in a -dictatorial manner. - -"No, sir! I am thinking of Lucullus. A gourmet, sir, not a gourmand." - -Mr. Gelthrip, not being sufficiently learned either in French or -gastronomy to appreciate the subtlety of this remark, wisely held his -tongue and went on with his soup. - -"If we were like the Romans, father, we should be crowned with -garlands of roses," said Toby, in order to keep the ball of -conversation rolling. - -"Instead of which we wear the roses in our buttonholes," added Archie, -gaily; "not so graceful, perhaps, but more comfortable." - -"Ah, we're not at all classic," observed the host, regretfully; -"dining with Lucullus we should have reclined." - -"How uncomfortable!" said Tommy, saucily; "as bad as having breakfast -in bed." - -"Which is where you generally have it," interposed Mrs. Valpy, -reprovingly. - -"Ah!" said Toby, with a world of meaning in his tone, "I am afraid you -have not studied one Dr. Watts----" - -"The early to bed man, you mean," cried Mrs. Belswin. "Horrible! I -never could see the use of his cut-and-dried little proverbs." - -"His poems, madam, are very edifying," remarked Gelthrip, in a -clerical manner. - -"Very probably; and like most things edifying, very dreary." - -She said this so tartly that Clendon _père_ was afraid of the probable -rejoinder of his curate, so made the first remark that came into his -mind apropos of nothing in particular. - -"Our conversation is like that of Praed's vicar, very discursive; we -began with the Romans, we end with Dr. Watts." - -"I prefer the Romans," declared Archie, sipping his wine. - -"Not their dining, surely," observed Kaituna. - -"No," whispered Archie, literally _sub rosa_, for she wore a -half-opened bud in her dark hair, "because you would not have been -present. The nineteenth century, with all its faults, has one great -virtue; it allows us to dine with you." - -Kaituna laughed in a pretty confused manner, whereupon Mrs. Belswin -flashed her glorious dark eyes sympathetically on the pair, for she -was now quite in favour of this, to all appearances, imprudent -marriage. Reasons two. First, the young couple loved one another -devotedly, which appealed to her womanly and maternal instincts. -Second, the match would be objected to by Sir Rupert, which pleased -the revengeful part of her nature. With these two excellent reasons -she was very satisfied, so smiled kindly on the lovers. - -"Burgundy, sir?" - -"Thank you, Mrs. Belswin." - -That lady bowed cordially to her host and touched the rim of her glass -lightly with her lips. It is not now customary for gentlemen to drink -healths with the opposite sex at dinner, but 'tis an old-fashioned -custom, and therefore found favour with the vicar, lover of all things -antique, as he was. - -"Drink to me only with thine eyes." - -"A most excellent sentiment, Tobias," said his father, with a waggish -smile; "but we are not all so happily placed as you, my son." - -"Every dog has its day, father." - -"True! true! most true. 'Et ego in Arcadia fui.' Eh, Mr. Gelthrip?" - -"I am not married, sir," responded that gentleman, stiffly. - -"Nor is he likely to be," whispered Archie to his neighbour. "How -lucky--for the possible Mrs. Gelthrip." - -"I'm not so sure of that," she replied in the same tone; "every Jack -has his Jill." - -"Even I?" - -"Yes, I suppose so." - -"Oh! you are not certain?" - -"How can I be certain? You do not wear your heart on your sleeve." - -"Do I not?" - -Kaituna was somewhat taken aback at this direct way of putting it, -and, not feeling inclined to reply in the only way in which she could -do so, looked round for a mode of escape from the pertinacity of her -companion. Help came from the vicar. - -"Miss Pethram, I understand your father is coming home again." - -"Yes, Mr. Clendon; I am pleased to say he is." - -"Ah, no doubt! no doubt! Well, I can tell him you have been in safe -hands," responded the vicar, bowing to Mrs. Belswin, who acknowledged -the compliment with a somewhat doubtful smile. - -"You have never seen Sir Rupert?" asked Toby, politely. - -Mrs. Belswin started, drew her handkerchief--a flimsy feminine thing -of lace and cambric--across her dry lips, and laughed in an -embarrassed fashion as she replied-- - -"No, I have not seen him; but, of course, Kaituna has told me all -about him." - -"Ah!" said the vicar, eyeing the rosy bubbles flashing in his glass, -"I remember Rupert Pethram very well before he went out to New -Zealand. He was a gay, light-hearted boy; but now, alas! tempora -mutantur et nos mutamur in illis." - -"I can't fancy my father ever having been gay and light-hearted," -cried Kaituna, doubtfully. "Ever since I can remember him he has been -so grave and solemn." - -"Trouble! trouble!" sighed the vicar; "it changes us all." - -Mrs. Belswin, affecting to arrange the wreath at her breast, darted a -lightning glance at the old man from under her long lashes. - -"I wonder if Rupert told you anything," she thought, rapidly. "Bah! -what do I care if he did? This fool can do me no harm. There is only -one man I'm afraid of meeting--Rupert Pethram himself. Well, perhaps I -shall not need to meet him." - -She smiled cruelly as she thought of the harm she proposed to do her -unfortunate husband, and listened idly to Mr. Gelthrip, who was -holding forth in his usual dogmatic style on the good which a moneyed -man like Sir Rupert could do to the parish of Deswarth. - -"I hope, Miss Pethram," he said, turning to Kaituna, "that you will -urge upon your father the advisability of throwing open the picture -gallery at Thornstream to the villagers, in order to encourage a taste -for art." - -"But they know nothing about art. The _Illustrated London News_ and -the _Graphic_ form their idea of pictures." - -"They can learn, Mr. Clendon; they can learn," replied the curate, -easily. "I should like them to appreciate the old masters." - -"Egad, it's a thing I could never do," cried Toby, flippantly. "I much -prefer the modern painters." - -"You are a Philistine, sir." - -"Humph!" said Toby, under his breath, "and this Samson is slaughtering -me with the jawbone of an ass." - -"Then music," pursued Gelthrip, waxing eloquent; "a little Wagner." - -"Very little," said Archie, slily; "all chords and no melody." - -"I don't quite understand you," remarked Tommy, addressing Mr. -Gelthrip with a demure smile. "You believe in Doctor Watts and Richard -Wagner. Isn't it rather difficult to reconcile the two things?" - -"Not at all, Miss Valpy. Wagner is understandable by the meanest -mind." - -"Meaning himself," whispered Archie, with a laugh. - -"The fact is," observed Mr. Clendon, with mock solemnity, "that when -my worthy friend can get our labourers to descant learnedly on Claude -Lorraine, Michael Angelo, and Titian, read and appreciate George -Meredith's novels--of whom, Tobias, I have heard you speak--and -understand the advanced school of music, of which I myself know -nothing, he will have accomplished his life's work." - -"It would be a worthy career for a man," said Gelthrip, energetically. - -"So I think," remarked Mrs. Belswin, dryly; "but if you make all your -labourers so learned, Mr. Gelthrip, I'm afraid they won't do much -work. Instead of hedging and ditching, they will take to admiring the -sunsets." - -"And to analysing the music of the lark." - -"Or comparing the latest novelist's description of Nature to the -disadvantage of the real thing." - -Mr. Gelthrip bore all this sarcasm with equanimity, smiling benignly -all the time. He was an enthusiast on the subject, and had a hide -impervious to shafts of ridicule, however skilfully launched. His -scheme was simple. Sir Rupert had plenty of money, and, judging from -his daughter's description, seemed to be philanthropically inclined. -Mr. Gelthrip had full power in the parish--as his superior was too -much taken up with the middle ages to pay attention to the nineteenth -century--so he determined, with the aid of Sir Rupert's money and his -own brains, to make Deswarth a model village in the matter of culture -and high art. As to religion--well, Mr. Gelthrip was a clergyman, and -thought he could mingle religion and high art together so as to make -them palatable to his children-of-nature parishioners. Meanwhile his -ideas stood in this order: culture, high art, religion. Alas for the -possible model parish and the souls of its occupants! - -This, however, is talk of futurity; but at present, the ladies, headed -by Mrs. Valpy, retired, leaving the four gentlemen to their wine. - -"Tobias!" said his father, benevolently--a man must feel benevolent -with a glass of '34 port in his hand. "Tobias, to the health of your -bride." - -"Thank you, father," replied Toby, gratefully, touching his lips with -the glass. "Archie! to the future Mrs. Maxwell." - -"Ah! Ah!" remarked the old gentleman, smiling. "Has it gone as far as -that?" - -"Not yet, sir." - -Archie was blushing deeply, being an ingenuous youth, and unused to -such public compliments. - -"I'll bet," whispered Toby, looking at him gravely, "that you'll have -something to say to me to-night over a pipe." - -"Do you think so?" faltered Archie, toying with his glass. - -"I speak," said Clendon _fils_, "I speak from experience, having -proposed and been accepted." - -"I can do the first, but what about the second?" - -"Faint heart," remarked Toby, judiciously, "never won fair lady." - -"Then I'll take your advice this very night," said Archie, -desperately. - -"I am," remarked Toby, as he lifted his glass, "a prophet in a small -way. Old boy, your hand. To the health of our double marriage--and no -heeltaps." - -Archie finished his glass. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. -ARS AMORIS. - - - 'Tis very easy to make love; - A smile--a pressure of the hand. - A reference to the stars above, - A "fly with me to some far land," - A sigh as soft as coo of dove, - A kiss--the rest she'll understand. - - -Mr. Gelthrip, thinking no one but himself knew anything, had -contradicted his clerical superior on some point connected with the -introduction of printing into England, and the vicar in great wrath -had carried off his dogmatic curate to the library in order to prove -his case. The two elder ladies were talking about Sir Rupert as Mrs. -Valpy had met him a few months previously, and Mrs. Belswin was trying -to find out all about her quondam husband, in order to strengthen her -position as much as possible. At present she knew that she was -entirely at the mercy of Sir Rupert, so if she could discover -something detrimental to his character it might serve as a weapon -against him. The scheme which she hoped to carry through with the -assistance of Ferrari, was a dangerous one; and moreover, she was -doubtful if the Italian would consent to aid her; therefore she was -anxious to try all other methods of coercing her husband before -resorting to the last and most terrible expedient. She was a clever -woman, was Mrs. Belswin, and the instinct for discovery, which she -inherited from her savage grandparents, made her wonderfully acute in -cross-examining simple Mrs. Valpy, who not comprehending the subtlety -of her companion, told all she knew about the baronet in the most open -manner. The result was not gratifying to Mrs. Belswin; for with all -her dexterity in twisting, and turning and questioning, and hinting, -she discovered nothing likely to compromise Sir Rupert in any way. - -"It's no use," she thought, with a feeling of despair in her heart, -"Rupert has it all his own way, and I can do nothing--nothing -except----" - -She smiled significantly, and simple Mrs. Valpy, seeing that the -companion was looking at Toby and her daughter, who were amusing -themselves at the piano, misinterpreted the smile, and therefore spoke -according to her misinterpretation. - -"They'll make a very happy couple, won't they, Mrs. Belswin?" - -Mrs. Belswin, thus being appealed to, started, smiled politely, and -assented with much outward show of interest to the remark of the old -lady. - -"It's so nice for Toby to have his home here," pursued Mrs. Valpy, -with much satisfaction; "because, you know, our place is not far from -the vicarage, so I shall not be parted from my daughter." - -The other woman started, and laid her hand on her breast, as if to -still the beating of her heart. - -"Yes; it would be a terrible thing to part with your only child," she -said in a low voice. "I know what the pain of such a separation is." - -"You have parted from your child, then?" said Mrs. Valpy, -sympathetically. - -Mrs. Belswin clutched her throat, and gave an hysterical laugh. - -"Well, no; not exactly;" she said, still in the same low voice; -"but--but my little daughter--my little daughter died many years ago." - -It was very hard for her to lie like this when her daughter was only a -few yards away, chatting to Maxwell at the window; but Mrs. Belswin -looked upon such necessary denial as punishment for her sins, and -accepted it accordingly. - -"I'm very sorry," observed Mrs. Valpy, with well-bred condolence. -"Still, time brings consolation." - -"Not to all people." - -"Oh, yes, I think so. Besides, now you have that dear girl, Kaituna, -and she seems very fond of you." - -"Yes." - -She could say no more. The strangeness of the situation excited her to -laughter, to that laughter which is very near tears, and she was -afraid to speak lest she should break down. - -"And then Sir Rupert will be so glad to find his daughter has such a -good friend." - -The mention of the hated name restored Mrs. Belswin to her usual self, -and with a supercilious glance at the blundering woman who had so -unconsciously wounded her, she answered in her ordinary manner-- - -"I hope so! But I'm afraid I shall not have an opportunity of seeing -Sir Rupert at once, as I go to town shortly, on business." - -"But you will return?" - -"Oh, yes! of course I shall return, unless some unforeseen -circumstances should arise. We are never certain of anything in the -future, you know, Mrs. Valpy." - -"No, perhaps not! At all events I think you will like Sir Rupert." - -Mrs. Belswin sneered. - -"Oh, do you think so?" - -"I'm certain. Such a gentlemanly man. Quite young for his age. I -wonder he does not marry again." - -"Perhaps he had enough of matrimony with his first wife," said Mrs. -Belswin, coolly. - -"Oh, he was devotedly attached to her." - -"Was he, indeed?" - -"Yes! Simply worshipped her. She died in New Zealand when Kaituna was -a baby, I believe, and Sir Rupert told me how this loss had -overshadowed his life." - -"Hypocrite!" murmured Mrs. Belswin, between her clenched teeth. - -The conversation was becoming a little difficult for her to carry on, -as she dare not disclose herself yet, and did not care about -exchanging complimentary remarks on the subject of a man she detested -so heartily. - -At this moment Toby struck a chord on the piano, and Tommy burst out -laughing, so, with ready wit, Mrs. Belswin made this interruption -serve as an excuse to break off the conversation. - -"The young people seem to be merry," she said to Mrs. Valpy, and -rising to her feet, "I must go over and see what the joke is about." - -Mrs. Valpy nodded sleepily, feeling somewhat drowsy after her dinner, -so Mrs. Belswin, seeing she did not mind being left to her own -devices, walked across to the piano and interrupted the two lovers, -for which interruption, however, they did not feel profoundly -grateful. - -"Won't you sing something?" asked the companion, addressing Toby, "or -you, Miss Valpy?" - -"Oh, my songs are too much of the orthodox drawing-room' type," -replied Miss Valpy, disparagingly. "Now Toby is original in his -ditties. Come, let's have a little chin-music, Toby!" - -"Wherever do you learn such slang?" said Mrs. Belswin, with a smile. - -"Toby." - -"I! Oh, how can you? I speak the Queen's English." - -"Do you really?" said Tommy, laughing. "Well, I at present speak the -President's American, so go right along, stranger, and look slippy -with the barrel organ." - -"If your mother hears you," remonstrated Mrs. Belswin, "she will----" - -"Yes, I know she will," retorted Tommy, imperturbably; "but she's -asleep and I'm awake, very much so. I say, Mrs. Belswin, where's -Kaituna?" - -"I think she's walking on the lawn with Mr. Maxwell." - -"As a chaperon you should hunt them out," said Miss Valpy, -mischievously. - -"Suppose I give the same advice to your mother," replied Mrs. Belswin, -dryly. - -"Don't," said Toby, in mock horror; "as you are strong be merciful." - -"Certainly, if you sing something." - -"What shall I sing?" - -"Anything," said Tommy, sitting down, "except that new style of song, -all chords and no tune." - -Toby laughed mischievously and began to sing-- - - - "If I mashed her would she kiss me? - No! no! no! - If I bolted would she miss me? - No! no! no! - She knows I haven't got a rap; - Besides, there is the other chap-- - At him, not me, she sets her cap; - No! no! no!" - - -"Mr. Clendon," said Tommy, in a tone of dignified rebuke, "we don't -want any music-hall songs. If you can't sing something refined, don't -sing at all." - -"I must collect my ideas first," replied Toby, running his fingers -over the piano. "Wait till the spirit moves me." - -Mrs. Belswin had resumed her seat near the sleeping form of Mrs. -Valpy, and was thinking deeply, though her thoughts, judging from the -savage expression in her fierce eyes, did not seem to be very -agreeable ones, while Tommy leaned over the piano watching Toby's face -as he tried to seek inspiration from her smiles. - -Outside on the short dry grass of the lawn, Kaituna was strolling, -accompanied by Archie Maxwell. The grass extended for some distance in -a gentle slope, and was encircled by tall trees, their heavy foliage -drooping over the beds of flowers below. Beyond, the warm blue of the -sky, sparkling with stars, and just over the trembling tree-tops the -golden round of the moon. A gentle wind was blowing through the -rustling leaves, bearing on its faint wings the rich odours of the -flowers, and the lawn was strewn with aerial shadows that trembled -with the trembling of the trees. Then the white walls of the vicarage, -the sloping roof neutral tinted in the moonlight, the glimmer of the -cold shine on the glass of the upstair windows, and below, the yellow -warm light streaming out of the drawing-room casements on the -gravelled walk, the lawn beyond, and the figures of the two lovers -moving like black shadows through the magical light. A nightingale -began to sing deliciously, hidden in the warm dusk of the leaves, then -another bird in the distance answered the first. The hoot of an owl -sounded faintly through the air, the sharp whirr of a cricket replied, -and all the night seemed full of sweet sounds. - -Kaituna sat down on a bench placed under the drawing-room windows, and -Archie, standing beside her, lighted a cigarette after asking and -obtaining the requisite permission. The voices of the vicar and his -curate sounded in high dispute from the adjacent library; there was a -murmur of conversation from within, where Mrs. Belswin was talking to -the other lovers, and at intervals the sharp notes of the piano struck -abruptly through the voices, the songs of the nightingale, and the -charm of the night. - -"What I miss very much in the sky here," said Kaituna, looking up at -the stars, "is the Southern Cross." - -"Yes; I have seen it myself," replied Archie, removing his cigarette. -"You know I have travelled a great deal." - -"And intend to travel still more!" - -"Perhaps." - -"You don't seem very sure, Mr. Maxwell. What about South America?" - -"I thought I had told you that I had changed my mind about South -America." - -Kaituna flushed a little at the significance of his words, and cast -down her eyes. - -"I believe you said something about putting off your journey till the -end of the year." - -"I'll put it off altogether, if a certain event takes place." - -"And that certain event?" - -"Cannot you guess?" - -Duplicity on the part of the woman, who knew perfectly well the event -to which the young man referred. - -"No, I am afraid I can't." - -"Miss Pethram--Kaituna, I----" - -"Hush! Mr. Clendon is singing." - -It was only to gain time for reflection, as she knew that a -declaration of love trembled on his lips, but with feminine coquetry -could not help blowing hot to his cold. - -And Toby was singing a bold martial song, with a curious accompaniment -like the trotting of a horse--a song which thrilled through the -listeners, with its fierce exultation and savage passion. - - - On God and his prophet I seven times called me; - I opened the Koran--the omen appalled me; - I read it--thou wast to be bride to another; - I knew my betrayer, 'twas him I called brother, - Zulema! Zulema! - - I sprang on my steed as he waited beside me, - Then rode through the desert with Allah to guide me; - Fierce blew the sirocco, its terrors were idle; - I galloped till dawn to be first at your bridal - Zulema! Zulema! - - I rode to the tent-door, your father's tribe knew me; - They dreamed of the glory they'd gain if they slew me; - I dashed through the cowards--I met my betrayer, - He fell from his saddle, and I was his slayer, - Zulema! Zulema! - - You ran from your dwelling--your father's spears missed me; - You sprang to my saddle with fervour to kiss me; - We broke through the press of your kinsfolk, my foemen; - I won thee, Zulema, so false was the omen; - Zulema! Zulema! - - -"Ah!" said Archie, with a long breath, when the fierce cry had rung -out for the last time, "that is the way to win a bride." - -Kaituna thought so too, although she did not make any remark, but the -shrill savagery of the song had stirred her hereditary instincts -profoundly, and even in the dim moonlight Archie could see the -distension of her nostrils, and the flash of excitement that sparkled -in her eyes. It gave him an idea, and throwing himself on his knees, -he began to woo her as fiercely and as freely as ever her dusky -ancestors had been wooed in the virgin recesses of New Zealand woods. - -"Kaituna, I love you! I love you. You must have seen it; you must know -it. This is no time for timid protestations, for doubtful sighing. -Give me your hands." He seized them in his strong grasp. "I am a man, -and I must woo like a man. I love you! I love you! I wish you to be my -wife. I am poor, but I am young, and with you beside me, I can do -great things. Say that you will marry me." - -"But my father!" - -He sprang to his feet, still holding her hands, and drew her forcibly -towards him. - -"Your father may consent--he may refuse. I do not care for his consent -or his refusal. Say you will be my wife, and no human being shall come -between us. I have no money. I will gain a fortune for you. I have no -home--I will make one for you. Youth, love, and God are on our side, -and we are made the one for the other. You must not say no! You shall -not say no. You are the woman needed to complete my life; and God has -given you to me. Lay aside your coquetry, your hesitations, your -fears. Speak boldly to me as I do to you. Let no false modesty--no -false pride--no maidenly dread come between us. I love you, Kaituna. -Will you be my wife?" - -There was something in this akin to the fierce wooing of primeval man. -All the artificial restraints of civilisation were laid aside. The -doubts, the fears, the looks, the shrinkings, all these safeguards and -shields of nervous natures had vanished before this whirlwind of -passion, which bore down such feeble barriers set between man and -woman. As his eyes ardent with love, passionate with longing, flashed -into her own she felt her bosom thrill, her blood rush rapidly through -her veins, and, with an inarticulate cry, wherein all the instincts -she had inherited from her Maori ancestors broke forth, she flung -herself on his heaving breast. - -"Kaituna!" - -"Yes! yes! take me I take me! I am yours, and yours only." - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. -EXIT MRS. BELSWIN. - - - She smiles she laughs! she talks of this and that-- - To all appearances a very woman. - Ah! but that phrase bears deep interpretation-- - "A very woman" is a treacherous thing; - Her smile's a lie--a lie to hide the truth, - For when the time is ripe for all her schemes - "A very woman" slips her smiling mask, - And lo! behold, a look which means, "You die." - - -One who has been in strange lands, and ventured his life in far -countries, is by no means anxious to court again the dangers he has so -happily escaped. The traveller, telling his tales by his lately gained -fireside, shudders as he remembers the perils he has dared, the risks -he has encountered, and is thankful for his present safety, so -thankful indeed that he is unwilling to place his life for the second -time at the disposal of chance. - -It was somewhat after this fashion that Mrs. Belswin viewed her -present security in contrast to her past jeopardy. She had been a -free-lance, and adventuress, an unprotected woman at the mercy of the -world, so hard and pitiless to such unfortunates; but now she had -found a home, a refuge, a daughter's love, a bright oasis in the -desert of affliction, and she dreaded to be driven out of this -peaceful paradise, which held all that made her life worth having, -into a stormy world once more. Through perils more deadly than those -of savage lands, through storms more terrible than those of the ocean, -she had passed into a haven of tranquillity; but now that she was -tasting of the pleasures of hope and repose, it seemed as though she -would once more be driven forth to battle with her fellow-creatures. - -Her quondam husband held her fate in his hand. He had right and might -on his side, and she knew that she could expect no mercy from one whom -she had so deeply wronged. Had the positions been reversed she felt -that she would not have scrupled to enforce the powers she possessed, -and, therefore, never for a moment dreamed that her husband would act -otherwise. All she knew was that she was now in Paradise, that she -enjoyed her daughter's affection, ignorant as that daughter was of the -mother's identity, and that the husband of her youth, and the father -of her dearly-loved child would expel her from this hardly won -Paradise as soon as he discovered her therein. - -This being the case, she did not waste time in asking for a mercy not -likely to be granted, but set herself to work to find out some means -of retaining her position in defiance of her husband's enmity and -hatred. After her conversation with Mrs. Valpy, she saw that Rupert -Pethram had glossed over the affair of the divorce in order to avoid -all suspicion of scandal against himself and the mother of his child, -for he was unwilling that the child should suffer for the sin of her -parent. This was certainly a point in her favour, as by threatening to -denounce the whole affair if she was not allowed to retain her -position she could force him to acquiesce in her demand, in order to -avoid scandal. - -But then if he, though keeping the terrible affair secret from the -outside world, told Kaituna all about her mother's disgrace, thus -destroying the love which the girl had for the memory of one whom she -thought was dead--it would be too terrible, as she could urge nothing -in extenuation of her sin, and would be forced to blush before her own -child. No, nothing could be done in that way. Should she throw herself -on the mercy of the man she had wronged? Alas! she knew his stern -nature well enough to be aware of the hopeless folly of such an -attempt. Looking at the whole affair in whatever way that suggested -itself to her fertile brain, she saw no means of retaining her -position, her child or her newly-found respectability, except by -enlisting the sympathy of Ferrari and---- - -But it was too terrible. It was a crime. Guilty as she was, to do this -would render her still more guilty. Even if she succeeded in getting -her husband out of the way, and it was not discovered by the law, -there was still Ferrari to be reckoned with. It would give him a -strong hold over her, which he would use to force her into marriage, -and then she would be still separated from her child, so that the -crime she contemplated would be useless. - -To see this woman raging up and down her bedroom was a pitiful sight. -Flinging herself on her knees she would pray to God to soften the -heart of her husband, then, realising how futile was the hope, she -would start to her feet and think again of the crime she contemplated -committing with the assistance of her Italian lover. She raged, she -wept, she sighed, she implored. Her mood changed with every tick of -the clock; from hope she fell into despair; from despair she changed -once more to hope--tears imprecations, prayers, threats, she tried -them all in their turn, and the result was always the same--absolute -failure. She was dashing herself in vain against an adamantine wall, -for in her calmer moments she saw how helpless she was against the -position held by her husband--a position approved of by law, approved -of by the world. She could do nothing, and she knew it. - -Still, Ferrari! - -Yes, she would go up and see him, for perhaps he could solve the -riddle which thus perplexed her so terribly. He would demand his -price, she knew him well enough for that. Well, she would pay it in -order to still retain possession of her child. Let her accomplish her -present desire and the future would take care of itself. So, Mrs. -Belswin, summoning all her philosophy to her aid, composed her -features, and told Kaituna that she was going up to London on -business. - -"But papa will be here next week," said the girl in dismay. - -"Yes; I'm sorry to go at such a time, dear," replied Mrs. Belswin, -with an immovable countenance, "but it is a very important matter that -takes me away." - -"You will be back again soon?" - -"In a fortnight at the least." - -"Oh, I'm glad of that," said Kaituna, with a flush; "you know I want -you to help me gain papa's consent to my marriage with Archie." - -Mrs. Belswin smiled bitterly as she kissed her daughter, knowing how -weak was the reed upon which the girl leaned. She ask Rupert Pethram -to consent to the marriage--she dare to demand a favour of the man she -had wronged for the child she had forsaken! She almost laughed as she -thought of the terrible irony of the situation, but, restraining -herself with her usual self-command, bade the girl hope for the best. - -"Your father must like Mr. Maxwell, he is such a charming young -fellow," she said encouragingly, "and as you love him so dearly, Sir -Rupert, for the sake of your happiness, may perhaps overlook his want -of money." - -"But you will speak to papa, Mrs. Belswin?" - -"Yes; if I see your father on my return I will certainly speak to -him." - -"How strangely you talk," said Kaituna, rather puzzled; "if you come -back in a fortnight you will be sure to see papa." - -"Of course, dear! of course. I was only thinking that some unforeseen -accident----" - -"Oh, no, no!" - -"Kaituna, you love your father very dearly." - -"Very, very dearly. He is all I have in the world." - -It required all Mrs. Belswin's self-restraint to prevent her then and -there throwing herself into the girl's arms and telling her all. Such -a course, however, would have been worse than madness, so she was -forced to crush down her maternal feelings. - -After this interview with Kaituna, she departed for London--departed -for the possible commission of a crime, and as the carriage left -Thornstream she looked back with a sigh to the girl standing on the -terrace. - -"Perhaps I shall never see her again," she said, with a groan, -throwing herself back in her seat. "But no; that will never happen; -even if Rupert does turn me out of the house he will not tell Kaituna -anything to destroy her belief in her mother, so I shall some day meet -her with her husband." - -Her lips curled as she said this, knowing well that Sir Rupert would -never give his consent to the marriage, and then she clenched her -hands with a frown. - -"He must consent to the marriage--Kaituna's heart is set on it. He can -destroy my happiness, but I'll kill him before he destroys that of my -child." - -And with this firm determination she left her husband's house--the -house in which she should have reigned a happy mistress and mother, -and the house into which she had crept like a disguised thief, the -house which she, in the mad instinct of her savage nature, intended to -deprive of its master. - -While waiting on the railway platform for the London train, she saw -Samson Belk. - -The relations between these two were peculiar. Ever since he had seen -her at his mother's cottage, Belk had followed her everywhere like her -shadow, much to Mrs. Belswin's astonishment, for, candid in all -things to herself, she could not conceive how a handsome young man -could leave younger women for one verging on middle age. Yet such -was the case. This bucolic man had fallen passionately in love, and -adored her with all the sullen ardour of his obstinate nature. He was -slow-witted, dull-headed, and it took a long time for an idea to -penetrate into his brain, but once the idea was there, nothing could -get it out again. This woman, so different from all he had known, who -spoke in a commanding way, who flashed her eyes fiercely on all, as if -they were her slaves, had, without a word, without a sign, brought to -his knees this uncultured man, who knew nothing of the deference due -to the sex, and whose only attributes were great physical strength and -a handsome exterior. Formerly, owing to these advantages, he had -gained admiration from all women, and in return had treated them with -brutal indifference, or scarcely veiled contempt; but now the -positions were reversed, and he was the abject slave of this imperious -queen, who looked down at him with disdain. It was a case of Samson -like wax in the hands of Delilah--of Hercules subjugated by Omphale; -and Samson Belk, with all his virile strength, his handsome face, his -stalwart figure, was crouching like a dog at the feet of Mrs. Belswin. - -He looked somewhat haggard as he came towards her and took off his -hat, Mrs. Belswin nodding coldly to him in return. - -"Well, Mr. Belk," she said, indifferently, "what are you doing here?" - -"I heard you were going to town, madam." - -"Yes? How can that possibly concern you?" Belk stood twisting his hat -round and round in a sheepish manner. - -"I thought I might be of service to you," he stammered, looking at her -portmanteau. - -"Thank you, but there is no need. The porters will attend to all -that," replied the lady, graciously. "But you don't look very well, -Mr. Belk. I suppose you've been drinking." - -Candour was Mrs. Belswin's strong point, and looking at Belk as an -inferior animal, she treated him accordingly, but he seemed in nowise -displeased at her bluntness. - -"No; I haven't been drinking, madam." - -"That's just as well. You know Sir Rupert returns next week, and if he -found you to be dissipated, he'd dismiss you on the spot." - -"Would he?" said Belk, sullenly. "Let him if he likes. You seem to -know Sir Rupert, madam." - -"I? No; but I have heard about him." - -"He's a hard man, what I've seen of him." - -Mrs. Belswin was not going to discuss this subject with a servant like -Belk, so she turned indifferently away as the train came into the -station, and left him standing there, looking in sullen admiration at -her graceful form in the dark garments she now affected. - -When she was safely installed in a first-class carriage, her rustic -admirer, who had seen personally after her luggage, appeared at the -window with some newspapers. - -"You'll want them to read, madam," he said awkwardly, as she thanked -him. "I hope you'll have a pleasant journey." - -"Thank you, Mr. Belk, I hope I shall." - -"You'll be coming back soon I hope?" - -He blurted out this question with a deep flush, and Mrs. Belswin -stared at him with undisguised astonishment She could not understand -the reason of this man's deference, for she judged it impossible that -he could be so deeply in love with her as all his actions seemed to -denote. Good-natured, however, when not crossed in any way, she -replied politely, as the train moved off-- - -"I shall return in a fortnight." - -"If you don't," muttered Belk, as the long line of carriages -disappeared, "I'll follow you up to London." - -"Good heavens!" said Mrs. Belswin, throwing herself back in her seat, -"what on earth can the man see in me to admire? I'm not a vain woman. -I never was a vain woman, and why that handsome young fellow should -leave youth to run after age is more than I can understand. It's -flattering; very much so; but," continued the lady, struck by a sudden -thought, "if Ferrari met my new admirer, I'm afraid there would be -trouble." - -She laughed at the idea, and taking up the _Telegraph_ began to read, -but suddenly laid it down with a nervous start. - -"Ferrari loves me! Belk loves me! I love neither, but only my child. -Rupert stands between me and my happiness. Which of these men will -remove him out of my path? Ferrari--a subtle Italian, Belk--a brutal -Saxon. Humph! The fox and the lion over again--craft and strength! I -can depend on them both, and Rupert----" - -She struck her hands together with a triumphant laugh. - -"Rupert Pethram, you are marching blindfolded into a trap." - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. -SIGNOR FERRARI DECLINES. - - -"Number One is the greater number; if I assisted Number Two it would -become the lesser." - - -Signor Ferrari was a gentleman who knew how to make himself thoroughly -comfortable; and, in order to do so, squandered his earnings in a most -spendthrift fashion. At present he was receiving a very handsome -salary for his singing in Sultana Fatima, therefore he denied himself -nothing in the way of luxury. He was a true Bohemian in every action -of his life, and accepted his fluctuating fortunes with the utmost -equanimity. If he fared badly on dry bread and water one day, he was -hopeful of oysters and champagne the next; and when the feast of Dives -was before him, made the most of it in eating and drinking, so as to -recompense himself for all future deprivations, which would be the lot -of poverty-stricken Lazarus. - -While his voice lasted he was well aware that he could command an -excellent income which satisfied him completely; for when he grew old -and songless he was quite prepared to return to Italy, and live there -the happy-go-lucky life of his youth on polenta and sour wine. In his -impulsive southern fashion he loved Mrs. Belswin madly; but, strangely -enough, it never for a moment occurred to him to save money against -his possible marriage with her. If he starved, she would starve; if he -made money, she would share it; and if she objected to such a -chequered existence, Signor Ferrari was quite confident enough in his -own powers of will and persuasion to be satisfied that he could force -her to accept his view of the matter. This was the Ferrari philosophy, -and no bad one either as times go, seeing that a singer's livelihood -depends entirely upon the caprice of the public. As long as he could -get enough to eat, be the food rich or plain, a smoke, and plenty of -sleep, the world could go hang for all he cared. He lived in the -present, never thought about the past, and let the future take care of -itself; so altogether managed to scramble through life in a leisurely, -selfish manner eminently egotistical in fashion. - -At present, being in the heyday of life, he was dining with Dives, -which was happiness enough in itself; but, in order that nothing -should be wanting to complete his felicity, he had received a letter -from Mrs. Belswin, telling him of her contemplated arrival. Under -these circumstances he had nothing left to wish for, and lounging on -the sofa in his sitting-room in a state of blissful contentment -awaited the coming of his fair friend. - -"Buõno," said the signor, with smiling satisfaction, folding up the -letter and putting it in his pocket, "the singing-bird returns to its -nest. This time I will clip its wings, so that it flies not again. Per -Bacco, the kind heart of Stephano surprises himself, for who would let -his bird fly as he has done? But I fear not the jealousy, offspring of -suspicion. Ecco! she loves but me, and comes again to the nest. And -what a nest! Cospetto! My Lucrezia will be hard to please if she likes -not this palazzo del amor." - -It was a very pretty nest indeed, from a lodging-house point of view, -although its incongruity of colouring and furnishing would have driven -an artist out of his mind; but then the signor was not exacting in the -way of harmonious effect, and, provided his dwelling was fairly -comfortable, felt completely satisfied. Lying on the sofa, he looked -complacently at the furniture, covered with painfully bright blue -satin, at the scarlet curtains, the green wall-paper, and at all the -wax flowers, Berlin wool mats, and gimcrack ornaments with which the -room was adorned. Ferrari had added to this splendid furnishing an -excellent piano for professional purposes, and numerous photographs, -principally feminine, of his artistic friends; so that he conceived -himself to be housed in a princely fashion. - -It was three o'clock by the incorrect French timepiece on the tawdry -mantelpiece, and Ferrari was getting somewhat impatient, as Mrs. -Belswin had mentioned two o'clock as the time of her arrival; but with -his accustomed philosophy he manifested no anger at the delay. - -"La Donna é mobile," he hummed, shrugging his shoulders, as he -strolled towards the piano. "Women are always late; it is one of their -charming follies. Ah! EH! EE! Diavolo! my voice is bad this day. These -English fogs are down my throat Ah! Eh! EE! Dio! What a note! Voce del -oca. - - - "Ask not the stars the fate they deal. - Read in my eyes the love I feel." - - -"That's a good song, that serenade to Fatima. It shows off my voice. -I'll sing it to exercise my high notes." - -He did so, and was just in the middle of the first verse when Mrs. -Belswin made her appearance, upon which he stopped abruptly, and came -forward to greet her with theatrical effusion. - -"Stella dora! once more you shine," he cried, seizing her hands, with -a passionate look in his dark eyes. "Oh, my life! how dear it is to -see thee again." - -"You missed me then, Stephano?" said Mrs. Belswin, sinking wearily -into a chair. - -"Missed thee, carissima!" exclaimed the Italian, throwing himself on -his knees before her and kissing her hand; "by this, and this, and -this again, I swear that all has been dark to me without the light of -thine eyes. But you will not leave me again, angela mia. Thou hast -come back for ever to be my wife." - -Mrs. Belswin drew her hand away sharply and frowned, for in her -present irritable state of mind the exaggerated manner of Ferrari -jarred on her nerves. - -"Do be sensible, Stephano," she said in a vexed tone. "You are always -acting." - -"How can that be acting, cruel one, which is the truth?" replied -Ferrari, reproachfully, rising from his knees. "Thou knowst my love, -and yet when I speak you are cold. Eh, Donna Lucrezia, is your heart -changed?" - -"My heart remains as It always was, my friend; but I've come up to see -you on business----" - -"Oh, business!" interrupted Stephano, suspiciously. "Cospetto! You -want once more to leave me." - -"For a time; yes." - -"Oh, for a time; yes!" echoed Ferrari, mockingly. "Amica mia, you have -a strange way of speaking to him who adores you. Dio, you play with me -like a child. I love you, and wish you for my wife. You say 'yes,' and -depart for a time. Now return you to me and again say, 'Stephano, I -leave you for a time.'" - -"I made no promise to be your wife," said Mrs. Belswin, angrily, "nor -will I do so unless you help me now." - -"Help you! and in what way? Has the little daughter been cruel? You -wish me to speak as father to her." - -"I wish you to do nothing of the sort. My daughter is quite well, and -I was perfectly happy with her." - -"And without me," cried Ferrari, jealously; upon which Mrs. Belswin -made a gesture of irritation. - -"We can settle that afterwards," she said, drawing off her gloves: -"meanwhile let us talk sense. I shall be up in town for a fortnight." - -"And you stay, cara?" - -"At an hotel in the Strand. I'll give you the address before I leave." - -"Bene! I will then have you to myself for two weeks." - -"It all depends on whether you will help me in what I wish to do." - -"Ebbene! Is it il marito?" - -Mrs. Belswin nodded, and the Italian burst out laughing. - -"Povero diavolo. He has then come again." - -"No! but he arrives next week." - -"How pleased you are," said Ferrari, mockingly. "Oh, yes, he will be -so sweet to behold you." - -"That's the very question! I don't want him to see me." - -"Then return not to the little daughter." - -"I must! I must!" cried Mrs. Belswin in despair. "I can't give up my -child after meeting her again. Twenty years, Stephano, and I have not -seen her; now I am beside her every day. She loves me--not as her -mother, but as her friend. I can't give up all this because my husband -is returning." - -Signor Ferrari shrugged his shoulders and lighted a cigarette. - -"But there is nothing more you can do," he said, spreading out his -hands with a dramatic gesture, "eh, carrissima? Think of what is this -affair. Il marito has said to you, 'Good-bye.' The little daughter -thinks you to be dead. If then you come to reveal yourself, il -marito--eh, amica mia! it is a trouble for all." - -"What can I do?" - -"Nothing! oh no, certainly! You have beheld the little daughter for a -time. Now you are to me again. I say, Stella 'dora, with me remain and -forget all." - -"No, I will not! I will not!" cried Mrs. Belswin, savagely, rising to -her feet. "Cannot you see how I suffer? If you love me as you say, you -must see how I suffer. Give up my child, my life, my happiness! I -cannot do it." - -"Dio! you cannot make the miracles." - -"I can! I must! Do you think I will stay with you while my child calls -me?" - -"With me you must stay, my Norma. I love thee. I will not leave you no -more." - -"You can't stop me." - -"Ebbene," said Ferrari, conscious that he held the advantage. "Go, -then, and see how il marito will behold you." - -Mrs. Belswin felt her helplessness, and clenched her hands with a -savage cry of despair, that seemed to be torn out of her throbbing -heart. Up and down the gaudy room she paced, with her face convulsed -with rage, and her fierce eyes flashing with an unholy fire, while -Ferrari, secure in his position, sat quietly near the window, smoking -leisurely. His self-possession seemed to provoke her, ready as she was -to vent her impotent anger on anything, and, stopping abruptly she -poured forth all her anger. - -"Why do you sit there smiling, and smiling, like a fool?" she -shrieked, stamping her foot. "Can you not suggest something? Can you -not do something?" - -"Eh, carissima, I would say, 'Be quiet' The people below will hear you -cry out." - -"Let them! What do I care? I am a desperate woman, Ferrari, and I am -determined to keep my position beside my child. I will stop at -nothing--nothing--not even murder!" - -"Murder!" - -Signor Ferrari let the cigarette drop from his fingers, and jumped up -with a cry of dismay looking pale and unnerved. She saw this, and -lashing him with her tongue, taunted him bitterly. - -"Yes, murder, you miserable! I thought you were a brave man; but I see -I made a mistake. You love me! You want to be my husband! No, no, no! -I marry a brave man--yes, a brave man; not a coward!" - -Ferrari winced, with an angry glitter in his eyes. - -"Eh, Lucrezia. You think I am a brave man if I go to assassin il -marito. Cospetto! I am an Italian; but the Italians are not fools. If -another man loved you, and would take you away, I would kill him--yes! -But il marito--eh, that is not quite the same. I kill him and you -return to the little daughter for always. What gain to me, carissima? -I kill him, and your law gives me the rope. What gain to me? No, Donna -Lucrezia. Do what you love. Stab him with a stiletto, or give the -poison, I say nothing; but as for me to obey--Dio, the life is not -trouble to me yet." - -"You are afraid." - -He bounded across the room, and seized her roughly by the wrist. - -"Devil-woman, I have no fear! You lie to speak so I You lie, figlia -inferna." - -"Then why do you refuse to help me?" - -"Per Bacco, I am no assassin. Il marito is not an enemy to me. To you -he is hateful. Revenge yourself as it pleases; but I--cospetto. You -ask too much." - -He flung her away from him with a gesture of anger, and began to walk -about the room. Mrs. Belswin remained silent, savagely disappointed at -the failure of her plan, and presently Ferrari began to talk again in -his rapid, impulsive fashion. - -"If there was any gain. Yes. But I see not anything. I would work -against myself. You know that, Signora Machiavelli. Ah, yes; I am not -blind, cara mia. While il marito lives, you are mine. He will keep you -from the little daughter. But he dies--eh, and you depart." - -"No, no! I swear----" - -"I refuse your swearing. They are false. Forget, il marito--forget the -little daughter! You are mine, mia moglie, and you depart not again." - -Mrs. Belswin laughed scornfully, and put on her gloves again with the -utmost deliberation. Then, taking up her umbrella, she moved quickly -towards the door; but not so quickly as to prevent Ferrari placing -himself before her. - -"Where go you?" demanded the Italian, between his clenched teeth. - -"To find a braver man than Stephano Ferrari." - -"No; you will find no one." - -"Won't I? Pshaw! I have found one already." - -The Italian sprang on her with a bound like a tiger, seized her hands, -and placed his face so close to her own that she could feel his hot -breath on her cheek. - -"You have a lover, traditrice?" - -"No." - -"You lie! I believe you not!" - -Mrs. Belswin laughed, and made an attempt to go away. - -"Sit in that chair, infamous!" - -"I will not." - -"Sit in that chair, I order." - -"You order!" - -"Yes, I, Stephano Ferrari." - -She looked first at the Italian, then at the chair; and his aspect was -so determined that, in order to avoid an unseemly struggle, she sat -down as desired, with a shrug of the shoulders. - -"Now, tell me of this lover." - -"There is nothing to tell." - -"You lie!" - -"I do not lie." - -With eyes as fierce as his own, she looked straight at him, and it -became a question as to which of them had the stronger will. Her -determination to retain her position at any price, even at the cost of -her husband's life, had roused all her worst passions, and for the -first time since he had known her, the Italian averted his eyes with a -shudder of dread. - -"Jettatura," he cried, recoiling from her malignant gaze, and making -horns with his fingers to avert the blighting consequences of her -look. Mrs. Belswin saw her advantage, and immediately began to play on -his superstition. - -"I have the evil eye, you think. Yes; it is so. Why have you never -discovered it before? Because I gave you love. To those who cross me -not, I am kind; but an insult---- Ah! you shrink. Well, then, take -care. I never forgive. I never forget." - -Ferrari, completely cowed by her manner, threw himself on his knees -before her, and held out his hands with a gesture of entreaty. - -"Stella 'dora, leave me not. Behold me at your feet, cruel one. I die -in your anger." - -Mrs. Belswin saw that she had gained command over him, but was too -wise to push her conquest too far; so, bending down, she gave him her -hand, which he covered with fierce kisses. - -"Rise, Stephano, and I will tell you all. For two weeks I will be in -town, and with you all the days. You can call at my hotel if it -pleases you. If I decide nothing about my husband you can come down -with me to Deswarth, and we will face him together." - -"But this lover?" - -"I have no lover. I spoke in jest. Your devotion has touched me, and I -will reward it by becoming your wife. For the present," said Mrs. -Belswin, with a charming smile, "I will say 'a reverderci.' If you -send me a box I will come and hear you sing to-night." - -Ferrari once more kissed her hand, there was a rustling of skirts, a -closing of the door, and she was gone. - -The Italian stood where she had left him, with a scared look on his -face; and after a few minutes looked at the door through which she had -vanished, with a nervous smile. - -"Jettatura!" he muttered, shivering. "Jettatura." - - - - -CHAPTER XV. -THE RETURN OF THE WANDERER. - - - "Oh, I have seen the Southern Cross - In Southern skies burn clear and bright, - And I have seen the ocean toss - Beneath its gleam in waves of white. - Its beauty brought me no delight, - For I was on a foreign shore; - But now joy cometh with the sight - Of England's chalky cliffs once more." - - -Quite unaware of the pitfalls prepared for him by his now nearly -forgotten wife, Sir Rupert Pethram had returned once more to England, -and rejoiced greatly, in his dry fashion, to find himself again under -his own roof-tree. Kaituna was delighted to have him home again, and -welcomed him with a filial affection that made a deep impression on -his somewhat hard nature. - -He was not a favourite with the world, being so stiff and dry in his -manner that every one felt a feeling of uneasiness towards him; -consequently, he was unused to affection, except from his daughter, -whom he loved fondly in his own undemonstrative fashion. A difficult -man to get on with, at least people said so; and the haughty, distant -smile with which he greeted every one was enough to chill the most -exuberant expressions of friendship. Not even his residence in New -Zealand, where, as a rule, humanity is much more sociable than in -England, had eradicated the inherent exclusiveness of his nature. -True, in his young days he had been more friendly with his -fellow-creatures, but the episode of his wife's divorce had destroyed -his feelings of sociability entirely; and although, being an upright, -honourable gentleman, he was respected throughout the colony, he was -certainly not loved. He was a man who lived entirely alone, and, -except his daughter Kaituna, there was no one on whom he bestowed a -thought. - -Yet he was not uncharitable. If he saw suffering he relieved it; if -any one desired help he was not backward in giving his aid; still, -even the recipients of his charity found it difficult to feel warmly -towards him in any way. He did not believe in gratitude, and therefore -never sought for it, but did his good deeds in a stolid matter-of-fact -fashion that robbed them of their charm in the eyes of the onlookers. -It seemed as though his unhappy married life had blighted his -existence, had frozen in his breast all feelings of tenderness towards -humanity, for he was eminently a man who acted from right motives, and -not from any feelings of impulse to relieve suffering or help his -fellow-creatures. - -In appearance he was tall, slender, and rather good-looking, with a -thin, wrinkled face, scanty grey hair, and a darkish moustache. Well -dressed in a quiet fashion, undemonstrative and distant in his -manners, he embarrassed all with whom he came in contact; for the -well-bred coldness of his voice, and the supercilious look in his grey -eyes, and the _noli-me-tangere_ of his behaviour made every one around -him feel uncomfortable. - -With Kaituna he was always as pleasant and agreeable as he was able to -be, but his daughter felt that any pointed display of affection would -be received with disapproval by her singular parent. - -A man so straight-laced, so rigid in the due observance of all social -duties, could not but be annoyed at the absence of his daughter's -chaperon at a time when he was expected home. She was Kaituna's -guardian in his absence, responsible for her in every way, and he was -naturally anxious to see if Mr. Dombrain's choice was a good one. - -Shortly after his arrival he broached the subject to Kaituna, while -waiting for his horse to be brought round, as it was his intention to -ride round the estate with Belk. - -"Kaituna," he said, in his frigid voice, "when do you expect this lady -to return?" - -"In about ten days, papa." - -"Do you like her, my child?" - -"Oh, papa, I love her." - -Sir Rupert raised his eyebrows. - -"That is a strong expression, and a mistaken one. My child, never give -your love to any one. They will betray you." - -"Isn't that rather severe?" - -"Not from my experience," answered Pethram, with emphasis. "But there, -there! do not look so sad, child. You are young yet, and all geese are -swans in your eyes. But about Mrs. Belswin. I am very much annoyed -that she should have gone away at this time. It is not courteous to -me, nor in keeping with her position as your companion." - -"But she had to go about some business, papa," said Kaituna, rather -afraid at the frown she saw on her father's face. - -"Business! business! Her business is here, child. I expect Mrs. -Belswin to give all her time to you." - -"She has done so until now." - -"And now is the most important time, as I wish to see if she is a good -companion for you." - -"I'm sure you will like her very much, papa." - -"Impossible. I like no one very much." - -"Not even me?" - -She threw her arms round Sir Rupert's neck, and his face relaxed -somewhat under her smile. - -"There, there, child!" he said, pushing her gently away, "if I have a -weak spot in my heart it is for you. Now, good-bye at present I'm -going to see how things are looking." - -So he went away in the bright, breezy morning, and Kaituna was left -alone in deep thought, wondering how she could tell him of the offer -of marriage made to her by Archie Maxwell. She was a brave enough girl -in most things, but felt decidedly reluctant to speak to her father -about a subject she knew would be disagreeable to him. Archie was -young, handsome, hopeful, and loved her dearly; but these four -excellent qualities would seem nothing in Sir Rupert's eyes as opposed -to poverty. The girl was in despair, knowing her father's iron nature -as she did, and longed for the return of Mrs. Belswin, in order to -have at least one friend to stand by her. It was true that Archie had -declared himself ready to speak to Sir Rupert at once; but Kaituna, -dreading the refusal of her father to countenance the engagement, -persuaded him to wait until her chaperon came back. Meanwhile, she -went off to her own room to read her lover's last letter; for as -Archie, not being duly accredited, could not come to the house, they -were obliged to correspond in a clandestine manner, which was not -without its charm to the romantic nature of Miss Pethram. - -While, therefore, Kaituna was attending to her business, Sir Rupert -was attending to _his_. Accompanied by Belk, he rode over the estate, -looking into things, and exercised the young man's dull brains pretty -considerably by his shrewd questions concerning this and that and the -other thing. Sir Rupert Pethram had not been a penniless younger son, -nor graduated in New Zealand for nothing, for he knew as much about -land, and crops, and cattle, and top dressing as any man. Being thus -accomplished, he took occasion to read his bailiff a severe lecture, -which Belk received in sulky silence, on the slip-slop fashion in which -things were conducted. - -"When I pay my servants well," said Sir Rupert, severely, "I expect -them to look after my interests thoroughly. There has been a great -deal of neglect here, and I expect you to place things on a much more -satisfactory footing. Do you hear me?" - -"Yes, sir; I'll do my best." - -"Your best will be my worst, I'm afraid, judging from what I've seen. -I'll give you a few months longer; but if you don't improve things in -that time, Mr. Belk, I'm afraid you and I will have to part company." - -Belk was in a towering rage at thus being spoken to; but, as he wanted -to retain his situation, he held his tongue, nevertheless determining -in his own mind that he would repay Sir Rupert for his reproof as soon -as he was able. Fortune offered him an unexpected chance, of which he -took immediate advantage. - -Returning home with Sir Rupert, a dogcart containing two young men -passed them on the road, the occupants of which nodded to Belk, whom -they knew slightly. - -"Who are those gentlemen?" asked Sir Rupert, sharply. - -"One is Mr. Clendon, the vicar's son, sir." - -"And the other?" - -Belk saw his chance; for, knowing all the gossip of the place, he was -aware that Kaituna's engagement was unknown to Sir Rupert; so in the -hope that it would be disagreeable, he spoke out straight. - -"Mr. Maxwell, sir. The gentleman engaged to Miss Pethram." - -"What the devil do you mean?" demanded Sir Rupert, haughtily. - -"I beg your pardon, sir. I only answered your question." - -Pethram looked keenly at the man, to read his real meaning; but Belk -kept his countenance with the greatest skill, so the baronet was -forced to believe that he had spoken in all good faith. - -"You can go, Belk," he said curtly, turning his horse's head; "and -don't forget what I've said." - -The bailiff looked after him with a savage look in his face. - -"No, I won't forget," he said to himself, scowling. "That affair's -been kept from you, but you know all about it now. If I can find a -chance of hurting you, my fine gentleman, I'll do it, to pay you out -for your cursed pride this day." - -Meanwhile Sir Rupert, outwardly calm, was riding home consumed with -rage. What! his daughter engaged to a man of whom he knew nothing--of -whose very name he was ignorant? It was infamous. And she had never -said a word about it. Good heavens! where was Mrs. Belswin, to permit -such a thing? Evidently it was common gossip. All the county knew it; -and his daughter, whom he loved and trusted, had withheld her -confidence. - -"She's like her mother," said Sir Rupert, between his clenched teeth; -"deceptive in all things. Never mind, I'll get the truth out of her -before the day is an hour older, and then--Oh, these women! these -women! daughters and wives, they are all the same. They smile, they -kiss, they betray; and we poor fools believe them." - -Touching his horse with the spur, he rode at full gallop up the -avenue, in order to relieve his over-burdened feelings; and, when he -was once more in his own study, sent for his daughter without delay. - -Kaituna obeyed this unexpected summons with considerable trepidation, -having, with feminine instinct, guessed the reason for which her -father wanted to see her so suddenly. She found him standing in front -of the fireplace, with his hands behind his back, and a stern look on -his face--a look she had never before seen directed at her. - -"Will you take a chair," said Pethram, with glacial politeness. "I'm -sorry to trouble you about a disagreeable matter; but, being your -father, I owe it to myself and to you to speak." - -She sat down in the chair he indicated with a sinking heart, and -waited in silence to hear his reproaches. Sir Rupert, however, had no -intention of making any; he disliked a scene, and was moreover skilful -in using that irony which cuts like a knife, and which is far more -effective than unreasoning rage. - -"So you have deceived me, Kaituna?" - -"Father!" - -"Am I your father? I hardly think so, when you conceal from me the -most important event of your life." - -Kaituna had a considerable spice of the paternal nature in her, so she -took a hint from the baronet, and used his own weapons to defend -herself. - -"I don't understand to what you allude, sir." - -"Do you not? If, then, you will give me your attention for a few -moments, I will try and enlighten you. I saw a young gentleman in the -distance to-day, and asked Belk who he was. In reply I was informed -that it was a Mr. Maxwell, to whom you are engaged. Will you kindly -inform me if this is the case?" - -Kaituna lifted her head defiantly. - -"I love Mr. Maxwell, and wish to marry him." - -"Indeed. I presume you never considered that it was necessary to -consult me?" - -"I intended to do so, father, when--when Mrs. Belswin returned." - -"Ah! Mrs. Belswin then knows all about this affair?" - -"Yes." - -"And is going to ask me to consent to the marriage?" - -"Yes." - -Sir Rupert walked up and down the room for a few minutes, then, -pausing before his daughter, spoke deliberately. - -"I'm afraid you may think me somewhat inquisitive, but I should like -to know something about this Mr. Maxwell. Where did you meet him?" - -"At Marsh-on-the-Sea." - -"Indeed! And having fallen in love with you there, he followed you up -here." - -"Yes! He was going to ask you to consent to our marriage." - -"Very considerate of him; but as yet he has not done so. Who is my -future son-in-law?" - -"Father," cried Kaituna, the tears coming into her eyes, "do not speak -so cruelly. He is a civil engineer, and I love him very--very dearly. -Mr. Clendon, the vicar, knows him. He is staying there just now." - -"Very interesting indeed. Has he any money?" - -"I don't know! I think not." - -"So you were going to marry in this extremely doubtful fashion. I must -say the whole affair does equal credit to your heart and head." - -"Father!" - -"Pardon me! one moment. This estate is entailed, and should I die -to-morrow, you do not inherit a penny, as it goes to the next male -heir of the Pethrams. If, then, you do not make a good match, I -confess I do not see how you are to live." - -Kaituna said nothing, but remained with downcast eyes, looking at the -ground, while her father went on speaking in a cold tranquil tone. - -"Knowing that you would be penniless at my death, I went out to New -Zealand, sold all my property, and invested the money in an Australian -Silver Mining Company. You may be sure I did not do so without first -personally inquiring thoroughly about the prospects of the company. -From what I learned, I am sure that it will turn out well, and in the -event of its doing so, you will be an heiress. Under these -circumstances I can rest assured as to your future, should I die in an -unexpected manner." - -"I understand, father, but--but--what are you going to do?" - -"I am going to write to Mr. Maxwell, thank him for his very -gentlemanly behaviour, and refuse to sanction the match." - -Kaituna flung herself on her knees before him. - -"No, no! you will not be so cruel. I love him, papa! Oh, you don't -know how I love him." - -"I know well enough, Kaituna. You love him so much that you would go -and live in a cottage, on dry bread and water. This is youthful folly, -and I decline to aid you to ruin your life in such a way. Mr. Maxwell -has behaved very badly----" - -"No! No!" - -"I say he has," replied Pethram, with emphasis; "no gentleman would -have acted as he has done. I will write him at once, and if he seeks -an interview he shall have it, so that I can tell him to his face my -opinion of his conduct." - -"Father!" - -"Not another word, Kaituna. Rise from your knees, for all your tears -won't alter my decision. I won't ask you to dismiss this gentleman; I -will do it myself." - -His daughter, stung by his cold irony, sprang to her feet with a cry -of anger. - -"Papa! Papa! Don't do that. I love him! I want to marry him!" Then, -after a pause, stamping her foot, "I will marry him." - -"Will you? I'm afraid not," replied Pethram, coldly; "you are under -age, remember." - -"Oh, what shall I do! what shall I do," cried the girl, tearfully, -raising her head. - -"Behave like a sensible woman, and give up this madness." - -"No, I will not. I will be true to Archie!" - -Pethram shook his head with a vexed air. - -"My dear child, you are really very foolish. I don't wish to argue any -more on the subject." - -"You are going to write to--to Mr. Maxwell?" - -"At once." - -"And refuse to let him marry me?" - -"Exactly." - -"Then," said Kaituna, pausing a moment at the door, "I swear by the -name of my mother that I will be true to him." - -She was gone in a moment, and Sir Rupert, over whose face had come a -grave, worn look, laughed discordantly. - -"By the name of her mother," he said with a sneer. "Ah! she little -knows what her mother was." - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. -FOREWARNED IS FOREARMED. - - - "'Tis ill work fighting in the dark, - Though skilled you be in use of lance; - A random thrust may stretch you sark, - Though guided but by fickle chance. - 'Tis wisest, then, to fight in light, - For you can judge your foeman's skill; - And though in armour he be dight, - Your lance may find some place to kill." - - -The interview which had taken place between Mrs. Belswin and her -Italian lover had been productive of a curious change in the demeanour -of the latter. From being master he became slave, from commanding he -changed to obeying; and taking advantage of this astonishing -transformation, Mrs. Belswin ordered her quondam master about like a -dog. She saw that by a single flash of her fierce eyes at a critical -moment she had inculcated the superstitious Italian with the idea that -she was possessed of the evil eye, and had by so doing taken all the -manhood out of him. This son of the south, who was decidedly brave in -the presence of physical danger, was so completely the slave of -superstition that he firmly believed Mrs. Belswin's eyes exercised a -malignant influence upon him, against which he was powerless to -struggle. Notwithstanding this terrible feeling, he was too much in -love with her to think of removing himself from the dread fascination -of her presence, and therefore, he accepted his new position with -superstitious resignation. Once or twice, indeed, he attempted to -exert his former authority; but the ominous gleam in Mrs. Belswin's -eyes, and the significant sneer on her lips, soon reduced him to -obedience, and he cowered at the feet of his sometime slave in abject -terror. It was not physical fear, it was not a want of manliness: it -was simply the effect of a supernatural terror acting upon a nature -singularly prone, both by birth and training, to yield to such weird -superstitions. - -Having thus reduced Ferrari to such a state of bondage, Mrs. Belswin -thought that there would be no difficulty in making him put her -husband out of the way in some stealthy manner. Here, however, she was -entirely wrong, as Ferrari, being afraid of the English law, -absolutely refused to lend himself to the committal of a crime even at -the command of his evil genius. In vain, with all the artistic craft -of a woman, she prayed, implored, cursed, ordered. Ferrari would not -be moved from the position which he had taken up, in holding himself -aloof from the power of the law. Afraid of her in every other way, he -did exactly as she asked him, but in this special case his fear of the -visible power of justice was greater than his fear of supernatural -visitation from the glance of the evil eye, and after a fortnight's -battling Mrs. Belswin was obliged to confess herself beaten by the -steady refusal of her slave to obey her in what she desired most of -all things to be done. - -By means of Belk she had kept herself thoroughly well acquainted with -all that had taken place at Thornstream during her absence. The -bailiff employed his mother, who was always haunting the great house, -to find out what was going on. So, the information she gave her son, -he, in his turn, retailed by letter to Mrs. Belswin in London. From -this source, therefore, the latter learned all about Sir Rupert's -return, the discovery of the engagement, and the dismissal of Archie -Maxwell by the angry baronet. On hearing all this news, Mrs. Belswin, -with rare resolution, made up her mind to go down to Thornstream and -see her husband face to face. She saw plainly that she could do -nothing criminal against him, and so determined to have an interview -with him, and throw herself on his mercy. If he granted her this all -would be well; if, however, he spurned her--well---- Mrs. Belswin -knitted her brows, clenched her hands, and drew a long breath. She was -a despairing, reckless woman, and would stop at nothing to gain her -ends, so it seemed as though Sir Rupert was in a very dangerous -position. The baronet was no coward, but he would certainly have felt -a thrill of fear had he known this meditated attack by his terribly -savage wife. - -One effect of Ferrari's newly-born dread of Mrs. Belswin's -supernatural powers was that he followed her like a dog, and seemed -afraid to let her out of his sight. Formerly, having a full belief in -his power to draw her back to himself, he had not minded her being -away for certain periods; but now that he deemed his dominating power -was gone, he was afraid lest she should leave him altogether, and kept -a close watch upon all her actions. He was with her all day, and at -night, when forced to attend to his business, insisted that she should -come to the theatre and stay in a private box, where he could see -her during the performance. Mrs. Belswin did not wish to abuse her -newly-gained power over him, so acquiesced in his somewhat -unreasonable demands; but when she made her preparations to return to -Thornstream, he insisted upon accompanying her there. - -"But what about your business?" objected Mrs. Belswin. - -"That will be right, cara mia," he replied rapidly. "See you--we will -go down on Sunday--I do not sing that night; and I will return on -Monday--with you." - -"I will not return on Monday." - -"Signora, you will, I think so. On Sunday night you will behold il -marito. He will order you away; and what is left but to come back with -your faithful Stephano?" - -"What you say is very true," said Mrs. Belswin, coolly, "but things -may turn out so that I can stay." - -"Eh! have you the plan, Donna Lucrezia?" - -"No; I leave everything to chance." - -"Dio! what faith!" muttered Ferrari, lifting his hands; and the -conversation ended with Mrs. Belswin agreeing that Ferrari should -accompany her to Thornstream on Sunday afternoon. - -With that profound belief in the unseen which is a strong -characteristic of half-civilised natures, Mrs. Belswin, seeing that -she could do nothing herself, left everything to chance, and expected -this blind faith to be rewarded by some miraculous intervention which -should change her husband's heart towards her. She had no grounds for -such belief, but, hoping against hope, kept repeating to herself that -all would yet be well, and that things would end happily. - -Nevertheless, in spite of her striving to look upon the bright side of -things, she received something of a shock when, on arriving at the -Deswarth railway station, she saw Archie Maxwell advancing towards her -with a most lugubrious expression of countenance. Wishing to speak -with him, she sent Ferrari off to look after her portmanteau and drew -the disconsolate lover into the bare waiting-room, where they could -converse freely. - -"Well?" asked Mrs. Belswin, sharply, looking at the downcast face of -the young man; "is all this true?" - -"About Sir Rupert?" - -"Yes, of course! What else would I speak of?" - -"It's all true! quite true--worse luck!" - -"He has refused to sanction the engagement?" - -"Yes. I received a letter from him, in which he accuses me of acting -shamefully in winning his daughter's heart. Oh!" cried, Archie, -clenching his hands, "if he was not her father! You never saw such a -letter--a cruel, wicked letter! If he was not her father I would make -him apologise for its insolence." - -"Oh," said Mrs. Belswin, cruelly. "So, being her father, you are going -to sit quietly down under this insult." - -"What can I do?" - -"Do! Oh, if I only were a man! Do! Why, marry Kaituna in spite of him. -Why don't you see Kaituna and urge her to marry you at once?" - -"I have done so, and she refuses to disobey her father." - -"Good heavens!" thought Mrs. Belswin savagely, "the girl is no -daughter of mine to allow herself thus to be robbed of the man she -professes to love." - -She kept this sentiment to herself, however, and only said abruptly-- - -"What are you doing here?" - -"I'm going up to town on business." - -"Indeed! So you capitulate without a struggle?" - -"No, I don't," replied Maxwell, flushing at the cold contempt -expressed in her tone. "I am going to see my employers about this -Buenos Ayres business which I put off till the end of the year. If I -can manage it I'll start for South America next month." - -"Alone?" - -"Not if I can help it. On my return I'll try and persuade Kaituna to -accompany me." - -"And disobey her father?" - -"There's no help for it," replied Archie, with a groan. "We love one -another very dearly, and I don't see why our lives should be spoilt at -the caprice of a selfish old man." - -"What does your friend Mr. Clendon say?" - -"He is entirely on my side." - -"And Mrs. Valpy?" - - -"The same. They think Sir Rupert is an old brute," - -"So he is," muttered Mrs. Belswin, angrily. - -"Well, Mr. Maxwell," she said aloud, "I also am on your side. It's a -shame that your lives should be spoilt for a caprice. But remember one -thing, Sir Rupert will cut his daughter off with a shilling." - -"Let him. Kaituna and I can face poverty together." - -"Poor innocents," said Mrs. Belswin, with a jeering laugh, "you don't -know what poverty is." - -"You needn't speak so unkindly," replied Archie, rather hurt at her -tone, "I thought you wished me to marry Kaituna." - -"So I do, but I don't want you to starve." - -"We shall not starve. I can always make a good income." - -"My dear sir," said Mrs. Belswin, candidly, "your income may be enough -for one but it certainly is not enough for two, particularly when the -other is a girl brought up as Kaituna has been. If you marry Kaituna -without her father's consent, you drag her down to poverty." - -"Oh!" - -"Yes, you do. It's no good glossing over those matters. Better look at -the hard simple facts, Mr. Maxwell, and you will find it best in the -long run. You love Kaituna, she loves you, and you look forward to -love in a cottage and all that kind of thing, which does not exist out -of novels. The reality, however, is not so pleasant." - -"Then what am I to do? Give up Kaituna?" - -"Certainly not. Kahuna's happiness is as dear to me as it is to you. -If you left her she would pine away, and I'm sure you would not be -happy." - -"Mrs. Belswin," cried the young man in desperation, "I don't know what -you mean. You blow hot and cold; you are both for and against. You say -marry Kaituna, and then you add it is a selfish thing to drag her to -poverty. I don't understand your meaning." - -"Oh, the density of lovers," said Mrs. Belswin, with an angry flash of -her fierce eyes. "You are like all men, my dear Mr. Maxwell, and never -see an inch beyond your nose. Does it never strike you that I am also -fond of Kaituna, and would do anything to insure her happiness." - -"You?" - -"Yes, even I. Oh, don't look so disbelieving, my friend. I may have -more power than you think with Sir Rupert." - -"But you don't know Sir Rupert." - -"Don't I?" replied Mrs. Belswin, grimly. "That's all you know. Well, -here is your train, Mr. Maxwell, so I'll say good-bye." - -"But what are you going to do?" said Archie as they went out on to the -platform. - -"I don't know--yet." - -"Will you get Sir Rupert to consent to our marriage?" - -"Perhaps." - -Maxwell jumped into a first-class carriage with a sigh of despair, and -put his head out of the window for a moment as the train started. - -"Mrs. Belswin!" - -"Yes?" - -"I don't know your meaning, but you seem to have some power, so I'll -leave the future happiness of Kaituna and myself in your hands." - -"You will trust me?" - -"Entirely." - -"Very well; you will see your trust has not been misplaced." - -Mrs. Belswin, however, was promising more than she could perform, and -stood frowning deeply as the train went off. From this reverie she was -aroused by a touch on her shoulder, and on turning saw Ferrari. - -"Is that the man?" - -"What do you mean?" - -"Is it the one who is ready to do for you what I refuse." - -She looked at him mockingly, and, woman-like, determined to torture -him. - -"My good Stephano, if you knew that, you would be as wise as myself!" - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. -BEFORE THE STORM. - - - Before the storm the woods are still, - All Nature drowses as in sleep; - Yet, tho' her slumbers she may keep, - She feels a strange prophetic thrill, - Before the storm. - - From heavy clouds on mount and hill, - The thunders mutter--lightnings leap, - And soon the heav'ns commence to weep, - Such strained silence augurs ill, - Before the storm. - - -Living at Thornstream was hardly very pleasant after the interview -between Sir Rupert and his daughter. Everything went on just the same, -but this very calmness was a foreboding sign of a coming tempest. The -baronet was deeply angered at what he considered Kaituna's feminine -duplicity, but hiding all such feelings under a mask of ultra -politeness, he treated her with a cold courtesy which was far more -irritating to the proud spirit of the girl than any outburst of wrath -would have been. - -Inheriting, however, no inconsiderable portion of the paternal pride, -she, on her part, treated her father with distant politeness; so these -two proud spirits found themselves entirely separated, the one from -the other, by the insurmountable barrier of disdainful silence, which -they had each contributed to build. They lived under the same roof, -they took their meals at the same table, they interchanged the usual -remarks concerning daily events, and, to all outward appearances, were -the same to one another as they had ever been; but it was far from -being the case, for the confidence of the father in the daughter, of -the daughter in the father, had entirely disappeared, and they -regarded one another with mutual distrust. - -It was certainly a very unhappy state of things, and was entirely due -to the peculiar views held by Sir Rupert, regarding his bearing -towards his womankind. Had he interviewed Maxwell personally, and -judged for himself as to his fitness to become the husband of -his daughter--had he spoken of the matter to Kaituna in a kindly -manner--had he made some allowance for the mutual love of these young -people, who had set aside conventional observations, things might have -been better. But, by ordering his daughter to give up her lover, as he -had formerly ordered his high-spirited wife to give up her friend, he -committed a fatal mistake, and as he had reaped the consequences of -such high-handed proceedings before by losing his wife, it seemed as -though history would repeat itself, and he would lose his daughter. -Had he shown Kaituna the folly of a hasty love match, had he entreated -her for her own sake to be cautious, had he requested her to consider -her determination--but to order, ah, that was the mistake he made. - -Curiously enough, he never saw this. In all things he demanded an -absolute and unquestioning obedience from his household, so it never -for a moment struck him that the girl would dare to defy his -authority. Yet it was so; for in place of making her obedient, Sir -Rupert's blundering conduct had made her crafty, and she made up her -mind that she would never give up her lover. - -Tommy Valpy stood her friend, and Kaituna met Archie at her house, -where they parted with many promises of remaining true to one another. -Then Kaituna returned to Thornstream, and resumed her mask of -politeness; while Sir Rupert, thinking she had obeyed him, and given -up her undesirable lover, was to a certain extent content, although -still suspicious of her apparent acquiescence in his wish. - -Things were in this state when Mrs. Belswin arrived. On leaving the -railway station, after her interview with Maxwell, she had met Belk, -but did not stop to speak to him, being afraid of Ferrari's jealousy. -In this she was quite right, for Belk, seeing her driving past with a -stranger, scowled savagely as he took off his hat; while Ferrari, -noting the good looks of the young man, and seeing the scowl directed -to himself, guessed directly that this was the rival mentioned by Mrs. -Belswin. - -"Mia cara," he said, artfully, as they drove on to Deswarth, "that -handsome gentleman who made the bow--is it your friend?" - -"Friend," echoed Mrs. Belswin, carelessly--"oh, I've so many friends." - -"Is it--" began Stephano, when Mrs. Belswin turned furiously upon him. - -"Don't worry me, Stephano; don't you see I'm busy. Is that the man I -mentioned to you?--yes, it is. You see he is stronger than you, so -don't fight him unless you like. I don't care a morsel for either of -you. All I want is to stay by my child; and as you can't help me, you -coward, don't worry me with silly questions." - -Ferrari said no more, but made up his mind to seek an interview with -the good-looking stranger, and find out whether Mrs. Belswin regarded -him with favour. - -On arriving at Deswarth, which was a short distance from Thornstream, -Mrs. Belswin put the Italian down at "The Chequers Inn," told him to -wait there in concealment until she saw him again, and then drove to -the Hall. - -Being determined not to see Sir Rupert until after dinner, in order to -discover in the meantime how the land lay, she went up to her own room -and sent for Kaituna, who was delighted to see her. - -"Now you are here," said the girl kissing her friend, "you may perhaps -induce papa to let me marry Archie. You know----" - -"I know all about it, my dear," replied Mrs. Belswin, with a maternal -air; "Mr. Maxwell met me at the railway station, and put me in full -possession of all the facts." - -"And do you think papa will let me marry him?" asked Kaituna, timidly. - -"I really cannot tell, dear, until I see your papa." - -"At dinner?" - -"No-o," responded Mrs. Belswin, doubtfully; "I'm tired after my -journey, so I'll have my dinner here. Afterwards I will ask for -an interview with Sir Rupert, so you and your papa can dine -_tête-à-tête_." - -"No, I'm sure we can't," said Kaituna, in rather a tone of relief; -"Mr. Dombrain is here." - -Mrs. Belswin faced round rapidly. - -"Dombrain!" she echoed aghast. "Your father's solicitor." - -"Yes." - -"Now what does he want here, I wonder?" muttered Mrs. Belswin, more to -herself than to her auditor. - -"He came down to make papa's will, I think," said Kaituna. - -"His will!" echoed Mrs. Belswin, struck with a sudden thought. -"Kaituna, if your father dies, will he leave you well off?" - -"Oh, I don't want papa to die." - -"No, no! of course not," said her companion impatiently; "but one -never knows what might happen. But suppose he did die, you would be an -heiress no doubt." - -Kaituna shook her head. - -"I don't think so," she replied, slowly. "You see, Thornstream is -entailed on the male side, and none of it comes to me." - -"But your father was well enough off in New Zealand." - -"Why, how do you know that?" - -"I don't know, dear," answered Mrs. Belswin hurriedly, seeing she had -made a slip; "I only presume so." - -"He used to be well off, but he lost a lot of money lately, and this -time when he went out he sold all his property." - -"Oh!" said Mrs. Belswin, drawing a long breath of relief, "then he -will have a large sum of money in hand." - -"No, indeed! He has put it all into silver mining shares in -Melbourne." - -"The fool!" muttered Mrs. Belswin, below her breath, "to risk his all -in such security." - -"So you see, dear Mrs. Belswin," said Kaituna, pursuing her own train -of thought, "that if Archie wants to marry me for my money, I shall -not have any." - -Mrs. Belswin caught the girl in her arms and kissed her with rare -tenderness. - -"My dear," she said kindly, smoothing the dark hair, "Archie loves you -for yourself, not for your money. Now go downstairs, dear, and excuse -me to your father." - -"And you will see him to-night about Archie?" - -Mrs. Belswin gasped in a somewhat hysterical manner, and caught at the -mantelpiece for support, as she repeated the words. - -"I will see him to-night--about--about--Archie." - -Kaituna was satisfied and departed, but when the door was closed after -her, Mrs. Belswin rushed madly across the room, and, flinging herself -on her knees before the door, burst out into a terrible fit of crying. - -"Oh, my dear! my dear!" she wailed, in a low moaning manner, "what can -I do? what can I do? If your father dies you will be left penniless; -if he lives I shall have to leave you forever--for ever, my dear--and -go away into the outer darkness. Oh, God! God! is there nothing I can -do?" - -She looked up at the painted ceiling, as if expecting an answer, but -none came; so, rising wearily to her feet, she locked the door, and -dragged herself slowly towards the mirror. - -"What an old, old woman I look," she muttered, peering into the glass. -"Grey hairs in the black; wrinkles in the smooth face. I wonder if he -will recognise me. Surely not! Twenty years make a great difference. I -will see him now in another two hours. He never dreams I am under the -same roof, unless Dombrain----" - -She started, drew herself up to her full height, and clenched her -hands. - -"Dombrain!" she said again. "Can he have revealed anything to Rupert? -I know he hates me, and would do me an injury if he dared. But he -cannot. No! I hold his secret; while I do that mine is safe with him. -Oh! how ill I feel, but I must not faint, I must not quail. I must be -brave--brave for my child's sake." - -She bathed her face in cold water, took a small liqueur glass of -brandy, which she produced from the dressing-bag, and then went to lie -down for a time before facing her husband. - -"To-night," she murmured, as her head sank on the pillows. "To-night, -Rupert Pethram, we measure swords. Let us see who will win. You or I!" - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. -FACE TO FACE. - - - "Oh, I was the husband and you were the wife; - We met, and we married, and parted. - Our meeting was happy, our marriage was strife: - Our parting left each broken-hearted. - Our hearts are now cured of their anguish and shame; - We've learned each our lesson of sorrow; - 'Tis folly to need the same lesson again, - And so I will bid you 'good-morrow.'" - - -Sir Rupert's study, which was one of the most comfortable apartments -in the house, was placed in the east angle of the building, so that -two of the walls were formed by the outside of the house. It was -lighted by four French windows, two of which were generally open in -fine weather, looking out on to the terrace. - -It was furnished in a heavy, stately fashion, with cumbersome oaken -furniture, upholstered in green morocco, and the walls, hung with -velvety dark-green paper, were surrounded with low oaken bookcases, -the height of a man, filled with well-selected volumes. On top of -these cases were placed choice specimens of ceramic art, consisting of -red Egyptian water-jars, delicate figures in Dresden china, and huge -bowls of porcelain, bizarre with red and blue dragons. Interspersed -with these, quaint effigies of squat Hindoo idols, grotesque bronze -gods from Japan, and hideous fetishes from Central Africa. - -Dainty water-colour pictures in slender gilt frames lightened the -sombre tints of the walls, and between these were highly polished -steel battle-axes, old-fashioned guns, delicate but deadly pistols of -modern workmanship, and dangerous-looking swords, all arranged in -symmetrical patterns. The floor of polished oak was covered with -buffalo skins from American prairies, opossum rugs from Australian -plains, striped tiger-skins from Indian jungles, and white bear-skins -from the cold north; while in the centre of the room stood the desk, -piled with books and loose papers. The whole room had a workmanlike -appearance and an air of literary comfort eminently attractive to a -bookish man. - -On this night the two French windows were wide open, and into the room -floated the rich perfumes of the flowers, broken by the pungent smell -of a cigar which Sir Rupert was smoking as he sat writing at his desk. -At his feet on either side were heavy books, carelessly thrown down -after use, and scattered sheets of paper, while amid the confused mass -on the desk itself was the red blotting-pad and the white note-paper -on which he was writing. There was a lamp on his left, from beneath -the green shade of which welled a flood of heavy yellow light--so -heavy that it seemed to rest sluggishly on the floor and be unable to -rise to the ceiling, where the shade made a dark circle. - -Within--the yellow lighted room, the silent man writing rapidly, the -steady ticking of the clock, and the acrid tobacco scent. Without--the -close night, moonless and starless, the air drowsy with heat, the -faint flower-odours, and the sombre masses of the trees sleeping dully -under the soporific influence of the atmosphere. - -There was something weird in the uncanny stillness of the night, a -kind of premonition of coming woe, which would have certainly affected -the nerves of a highly-strung man; but Sir Rupert did not believe in -nerves, and wrote on carelessly without giving a thought to the -strange prophetic feeling in the air. - -If he had only known he would have fallen on his knees and prayed for -the protection of his guardian angel until the red dawn broke through -the dread shadows of the fatal night. - -The rapid scratching of the pen, the sharp peremptory tick of the -clock, and suddenly a distinct knock at the door. Sir Rupert raised -his head with an expectant look on his face. - -"Come in!" - -A woman entered, tall and stately, arrayed in sombre garments; she -entered slowly, with a faltering step, and paused in the shadow before -the desk. Sir Rupert, his eyes dazzled by the glare of the lamp, could -see her face but indistinctly in the semi-twilight, and only heard her -short hurried breathing, which betokened great agitation. - -"Mrs. Belswin, is it not?" - -The woman placed one hand on her throat, as if striving to keep down -an attack of hysteria, and answered in a low, choked voice-- - -"Yes!" - -"I beg your pardon, I did not hear what you said, madam." - -"I--I am Mrs. Belswin." - -Sir Rupert started, and passed his hand across his face with a -confused sense of memory, but, dismissing the sudden flash of thought, -he arose to his feet, and pointed politely to a chair. - -"Will you not be seated, Mrs. Belswin?" - -She was foolish to betray her identity, but whether it was that her -resolution failed her, or that her nerve gave way, or that she -determined to forestall discovery, with an appealing cry she fell on -her knees. - -"Rupert!" - -"God!" - -He tore the shade off the lamp. The heavy, concentrated, yellow light -spread through the room in clear waves of brilliance, and there on the -floor, with wild, white face, with outstretched, appealing hands, with -the agony of despair in her eyes, he saw his divorced wife. - -"Rupert!" - -Step by step he retreated before the kneeling figure, with startled -eyes and dry lips, until he leant against the wall, and thrust out -cruel hands to keep off this spectre of the past. - -"You!" - -"Yes. I--your wife!" - -"My wife!" - -He burst out into a discordant laugh, on which, like a wounded snake, -she dragged herself painfully along the floor until she reached his -feet. - -"Keep off," he whispered, in a hoarse voice; "keep off, you shameless -creature!" - -"But hear me." - -"Hear you!--hear you!" said Sir Rupert, in a tone of concentrated -scorn. "I heard you twenty years ago. The law heard you; the world -heard you. What can you say to me now that I did not hear then?" - -"Pity me. Oh, Rupert, pity me!" - -"Pity you! You that had no pity on me! You that ruined my life--that -blasted my name--that made my home desolate! Pity you! I am not an -angel! I am a man." - -The woman twisted her hands together, and burst out crying into floods -of hot bitter tears that burned and seared her cheeks--those cheeks -that burned with shame at the righteous scorn of the man who had -trusted her and whom she had wronged. - -"What are you doing here?" said Pethram, harshly. "Rise and answer me. -Don't lie grovelling there with your crocodile tears." - -"Have you no mercy?" - -"None for such as you." - -At these cruel words she arose to her feet with an effort and leaned -heavily against the wall, while her husband took his seat in stern -anger, as if she were a criminal brought before him for sentence. - -"You are Mrs. Belswin?" - -"Yes." - -"My daughter's companion?" - -"She is mine as well as yours." - -"Silence!" he said, sternly. "Do not dare to claim the child which you -left so cruelly twenty years ago. Have you no shame?" - -"Shame!" she replied bitterly. "Yes, I have shame. I know what shame -is--twenty years of bitter, cruel shame. God of mercy, twenty years!" - -"Twenty thousand years would not be too much for your sin." - -"Are you so pure yourself that you can judge me so harshly?" - -"I am not here to argue such a question," he said, coldly, with a -cruel look in his eyes. "I want to know what you are doing here." - -"I came as a companion to my daughter." - -"And you told her----" - -"I told her nothing," said Mrs. Belswin, vehemently. "So help -me, Heaven! she knows nothing. I am her companion, her paid -companion--nothing more." - -"I am glad you have had the sense to spare my daughter the story of -your shame. How did you obtain the situation?" - -"It was advertised, and I got it through Dombrain." - -"Did he know who you were?" - -"How could he? Do you think all the world knows the story of my -folly?" - -"Your folly!" he repeated, with deep scorn; "your sin you mean. -Dombrain was a long time in New Zealand; he must have heard of the -case." - -"If he did he never saw me. He did not recognise me." - -Sir Rupert looked at her doubtfully, as if he would drag the truth -from her unwilling lips. She stood before him white, silent, defiant, -and he arose slowly to his feet. - -"Twenty years ago," he said, coldly, "the law gave me my freedom from -you, and I thought never to see you again. Like a thief you have -entered my house during my absence. You have dared to contaminate with -your presence my child--yes, my child, not yours. She ceased to be -yours when you forsook her. How you obtained this entrance I will make -it my business to find out; but now that I know that Mrs. Belswin is -my divorced wife, I order her to leave my house at once. Go!" - -She uttered a piteous cry, and stretched out her hands towards him in -an agony of despair. - -"No, no! you cannot be so cruel." - -"I am not cruel. By your own act you forfeited your right to remain -under my roof." - -"But my child." - -"Your child! Ah, you remember her now, after deserting her for twenty -years! Do you think I will permit you to contaminate her young life by -your presence? Do you think that I can see you day after day and not -remember what you were, and see what you are?" - -His wife cowered before his vehemence, and, covering her face with her -hands, shrank against the wall. - -"Rupert!" she said, in a low pleading voice, "do not be so harsh with -me. If I have sinned I have suffered for my sin. For twenty years I -have longed for a sight of my child, but until now I dared not see -her. Chance sent you away and gave me an opportunity of living with -her as a companion. She does not know who I am. She will never know -who I am, and as her paid companion she loves me! Let me stay beside -her and have some happiness in my wretched life." - -"No; I will not! I wonder you dare ask me." - -"I dare anything for my child." - -"It is too late to talk like that--twenty years too late." - -"You will let me stay. Oh, Rupert, let me stay." - -"No!" - -"For God's sake." - -"No! No!" - -"Reflect! Some day you may need mercy. How can you expect it if you -deny it to me?" - -"You have heard my determination. Go!" - -"Now?" - -"At this moment." - -"You would turn me out of your house like a dog?" - -"I would, and I do! It is all that you deserve at my hands." - -"Is there no mercy?" - -"None--from me. Go!" - -"I will not go," cried Mrs. Belswin, in despair. "I will not go, I -tell you." - -Sir Rupert advanced towards the bell rope. - -"Then I will order my servants to turn you out." - -"But, Rupert, think. Kaituna will learn who I am." - -"Better that than she should be contaminated by your presence." - -The woman clasped her hands together, and then in a frenzy of rage -dashed across the room to pull him away from the bell-rope. - -"You shall not! you shall not!" she shrieked, her fierce eyes flashing -with mad anger. "I will stay! I am a reckless woman! I love my child! -I will not go!" - -"I have the power to make you go, and I will," said Pethram, coldly. - -"Are you a man or a devil?" - -"I am what you have made me." - -"What I made you!" she hissed, in a voice shaking with bitter scorn. -"No! it is you who have made me what I am. I loved you when I married -you. As there is a God above, I loved you; but with your cold, cruel -words, with your sarcastic sneers, with your neglect you killed that -love. I had no friend. I was only a girl, and you crushed my heart. I -was dying for the love and tenderness which you refused to give me." - -"I was a good husband." - -"As the world says, 'A good husband.' You gave me a good home. You -surrounded me with every comfort. To all outward appearance, I had -nothing left to desire. Ah, how little you, with your cold, cruel -nature, know what a woman wants. I desired love! I desired tenderness, -but I did not get it. Oates was kind to me. He cheered my loneliness, -and in a moment of madness I went with him. I regretted it the moment -afterwards. I have regretted it ever since. God knows how miserable my -life has been. Now I have a chance of happiness, I will take advantage -of it. I will stay with my child; you can do what you like, you can -say what you like--I stay." - -Without changing a muscle of his face, Sir Rupert heard his miserable -wife to the end, then advanced once more to the bell. - -"You have said all; now go, or I will have you turned out." - -Mrs. Belswin laughed scornfully. - -"Do what you like," she said, indifferently. "You have said what you -will do; I have said what I will do." - -For the first time Sir Rupert hesitated, and let his hand fall without -ringing the bell. - -"You fiend!" he said, in a cold fury. "Having made my life miserable -before, you now come to do so again. But I knew I was never safe from -your malice. Dombrain, to whom I told all your vile conduct, said you -would come again." - -"He said that? Dombrain said that?" - -"Yes." - -"And he is a fit judge of my conduct!" she burst out in passionate -anger. "Do you know who he is? Do you know what he was? A convict--an -embezzler--a man who has served his term in prison." - -"My solicitor--Mr. Dombrain?" he said, incredulously. - -"Mr. Dombrain!" she scoffed, sneeringly. "Mr. Damberton is his real -name, and it was by knowing what he was and what he is, that I forced -him to receive me as your daughter's companion. I would have spared -him had he spared me, but now--well, you know the worst of him." - -"Yes, and I know the worst of you," he said, fiercely. "Oh, you played -your cards well. But I will turn you out of my house, and to-morrow I -will expose Dombrain or Damberton's real position to all the world." - -"You can do what you like about him, but I stay here." - -"You go, and at once." - -"I will not," she said, desperately. - -"Then I will shame you in the eyes of your own child," he replied, -resolutely, seizing the bell rope. - -"No, no! not that!" - -"I say I will. Either you go at once, or I call in Kaituna and tell -her who and what you are." - -Mrs. Belswin writhed in anguish. - -"Oh, I could not bear that! My own child! Pity, pity!" - -"Will you go?" - -"Pity! pity!" - -"Will you go?" - -"Yes, yes! My own child! I will go. Yes, don't ring the bell; I will -go now. But do not tell her--oh, Rupert, do not tell her!" - -"I will tell nothing if you leave this house at once." - -She dragged herself slowly towards the window, conscious that she was -beaten. Firm on every point, reckless to the verge of despair, the -thought that her own child should know her shame was too much even for -her. - -"Oh, God! is there no mercy?" - -"None! Go!" - -On the threshold of the window she stood, with her tall form drawn up -to its full height, and her fierce eyes flashing with rage. - -"You part the mother and the child. You drive me out of your house -like a dog. But remember with whom you have to deal. To-night it is -your turn; to-morrow it will be mine." - -He looked at her with a scornful smile, and in a moment she was -swallowed up by the darkness of the night, from whence she had emerged -like a spectre of the past. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. -THE OUTER DARKNESS. - - - "I stand outside in the bitter night, - And beat at the fast-closed door; - 'Oh, let me in to the kindly light, - Give back to me days of yore.' - But an angel says, with a frowning brow, - 'The past can no power restore, - You must dwell in the outer darkness now - For ever and ever more.'" - - -Through the warm summer night, her heart filled with rage, -humiliation, and despair, fled the unhappy woman, whither she knew -not. All she wanted was to escape from Thornstream, lest her husband, -seeing her by chance, should break his word and tell Kaituna what she -was. If he did so--oh, the horror of it for her daughter to know that -the mother whose memory she reverenced was alive, and an unhappy, -fallen creature! A thousand fiends seemed to shriek in her ears as she -ran onward, and it was only when she came against the trunk of a tree -and fell half-stunned on the cool grass that she stopped in her mad -career. - -How cool was the delicate touch of the grass, how sweet the perfume of -the flowers. She buried her hot face among the primroses, and pressed -her aching breast against the chill bosom of the earth to still the -agonised throbbing of her heart. - -Under the great tree she lay in an exhausted condition, thinking of -her failure to conciliate Pethram, of the past with all its follies, -of the present with its pain, and the future which looked so hopeless -and dreary. - -It was all over. She had staked everything on the casting of a die, -and lost. Her husband had driven her away from the house, from her -child, and there was nothing left for her to do but to return to -London with Ferrari and marry him at once. Never again would she live -with her child. She might see her--yes; but without being seen--for -she knew that if she spoke again to Kaituna everything would be -revealed by Rupert Pethram. To destroy that beautiful memory of, -motherhood, which was the chief treasure of Kaituna's life--to show -herself in her true colours as a fallen and wretched woman--no, she -could not do that; better exile, better wretchedness, better death -than the terrible truth. - -With a groan she sat up among the soft grass, her hands lying idly on -her lap, her wild face raised to the lonely sky. Yes, lonely, for -above there was nothing but clouds, black heavy clouds, as gloomy as -her own future. Oh, God! was there no hope? Was there---- - -Stay! the clouds part, rolling heavily to the westward, revealing a -glimpse of dark blue sky, and set therein like a diamond, the glimmer -of a star. Hope! yes, it was a sign of hope! a sign of promise! a sign -of comfort? - -She thought she would go back to Ferrari and see if he could suggest -any plan by which she could turn the tables on her husband; so -brushing the dead leaves off her dress, she threw the lace kerchief -she wore round her neck over her head, after the fashion of a -mantilla, and walked rapidly down the avenue towards Deswarth. - -The rapid motion of walking seemed to restore her nerve and with such -restoration she regained again the fierceness of her savage spirit. -The moment of softness was past, the good angel who had comforted her -with the star of hope fled away in terror, and over her head the angel -of evil, who had been her constant companion for so many years, now -spread his sable wings. - -He had ordered her away. He had parted her from her child. This -man--her husband that used to be, who had ruined her life by his cruel -words and studied neglect. The blame of her sin rested on his -shoulders, and she had suffered in the eyes of the world. Now once -more he triumphed, and while he was resting, honoured and respected in -his own house, she was flying through the night like a guilty -creature. - -"Oh!" muttered Mrs. Belswin between her clenched teeth, "if I was a -man I'd kill him. But I can do nothing! I can do nothing. Yet I don't -know. If I can persuade that cowardly Ferrari, or Belk. Belk would do -anything for me. What is to be done must be done to-night--to-morrow -it will be too late. Which way am I to turn?" - -She paused a moment; pressed her hands on her beating heart, then -suddenly made up her mind. - -"I will see Ferrari--first." - -The Chequers Inn was just on the outskirts of Deswarth, and a -comparatively short distance from Thornstream, so it did not take Mrs. -Belswin long, at the rapid pace at which she was walking, to arrive -there. - -It stood a short distance back from the road, and the night being hot, -all the doors and windows were open, letting the yellow light within -stream out on to the dark village street. On the benches outside a -number of yokels were drinking and talking loudly together about some -fortnight-old event which had just reached their out-of-the-way -parish. Mrs. Belswin, not wishing to be recognised, flitted rapidly -past them, and was standing in the passage hesitating whether to make -herself known to the landlord or not, when luckily at that moment -Ferrari came out of a side door with the intention of going into the -taproom. Like a ghost the woman glided forward and laid her hand on -his arm. - -"Stephano!" - -"You, cara mia." - -The passage was so dark that he was able to recognise her by her voice -alone, and the noise from the taproom was so loud that only a quick -ear like his could have distinguished her low tones. - -"Come into some room. I wish to speak to you." - -"Here, then!" he said, drawing her into the room from whence he had -emerged, "what is wrong? Il marito! eh! Dio! By your face there is -trouble." - -With a sigh of relief Mrs. Belswin flung herself wearily into a -chair, while Ferrari carefully closed the door and took up his -position on the hearthrug. Even in that moment of anxiety Mrs. -Belswin, with that noting of trivial things common to a preoccupied -mind, noticed the tawdry furnishing of the apartment--the gaudy -wall-paper, on which hung brilliantly coloured portraits of the Queen, -the Prince of Wales, and General Gordon; the vivid red of the -tablecloth, the dingy blue of the chairs, and the tarnished mirror -over the fireplace swathed in fly spotted yellow gauze. Ferrari had -evidently been smoking, for there yet lingered about the room the -odour of a cigar, and the atmosphere was slightly hazy with smoke, -while the smoky flame of a badly trimmed kerosene lamp faintly -illumined the whole place. - -On a chair near the wall sat Mrs. Belswin, faint and weary, but with -an angry light in her wonderful eyes; and standing on the hearthrug -the Italian, his hands behind his back, and his body slightly bent -forward, eager, anxious, and expectant. - -"II marito?" he repeated, inquiringly. - -The woman made a gesture of assent, upon which Ferrari rubbed his -hands together with an air of satisfaction. - -"Bene!" he said, smiling and showing his white teeth; "it is as I said -it would be. Il marito has said 'Depart,' and you, my Lucrezia, have -come back to the faithful one. Ah, che gioja! We will now leave this -fog land and go to my beautiful Italy--dolce Napoli. The waiting is -over, cara mia. You are to me at last, ah felicita!" - -"You go too fast, my friend," replied Mrs. Belswin, with a cold look -of disapproval on her expressive face. "Do you think I will marry a -coward?" - -"I am no coward! If a man to me dared to speak the word I would show -him I am Italian. It is your eyes--your evil eyes--that make me -afraid. But you will not be cruel to me again, bellissima," he added, -in a caressing tone. "You have come to say, 'I love thee.'" - -"Listen, Stephano," said Mrs. Belswin, rising to her feet and crossing -to the Italian. "I wish to tell you what he said. No! do not touch me! -Wait! I saw my husband. He spoke cruelly to me; he made me leave his -house--yes, turned me out like a dog!" - -"Cospetto!" - -"Ah, that stirs your blood! I see your eyes flash! Can you see me--the -woman you love--treated in this manner? No! I am sure you love me too -much. You are Italian! You have a strong arm and a warm heart! Is it -not so?" - -"But what wish you, Signora?" - -"Kill him!" - -She had caught the Italian by the coat with her two hands, and her -face was so close to his own that he felt her hot breath on his pale -cheek. With a gesture of alarm he shrank away, and was about to speak, -but she prevented him. - -"You are afraid of the law," she went on hurriedly. "Do not be afraid. -Listen! He--that man I hate--the man who has treated me like a dog--is -in a room with open windows that lead on a terrace. Go there without -noise--wait in the shadow. Within all is light--without all is -darkness. Draw him to the window by some trick. When his figure is in -the light, shoot him with this!" - -Ferrari gave a gasp, for she had thrust a small revolver into his -hand, upon which his fingers unconsciously closed. - -"I cannot do it myself," went on the temptress; "I dare not. They -would find out who I was, and what I did. I bought this pistol to kill -him to-night, but my heart failed me. No one will think it is you. Go! -Go, if you love me, and kill him, I will be your wife--I will do what -you wish--I will go where you like--only kill him! Kill him!" - -It was no civilised woman who was thus planning a murder in such a -cold-blooded manner. It was a savage, with all the blood-thirsty -instincts of a barbaric race. All the European side of this woman's -nature had vanished, and the primeval lust for blood dominated her -entirely. Ferrari felt this horrible truth as her face, distorted with -passion, pressed close to his own, and with a cry of fear thrust her -away, dropped the pistol on the floor, and covered his face with his -hands. - -"Devil woman that you are! No!" - -Mrs. Belswin whirled into the centre of the room like an enraged -tigress. - -"You won't do it?" she hissed madly. "You won't help me? I was right. -You are a coward. Well, I will ask you no more--I will do it myself." - -She picked up the pistol lying at his feet and turned to the door, but -with a cry of horror he sprang in front of her, and prevented her -exit. - -"No, no! you are mad! You are mad! I will not let you go." - -"Stand away! I will go." - -"No, cara, think. Dio!" - -Like a caged panther she looked round the room for a means of exit, -for, mad with rage as she was, she yet retained sufficient sense to -know that a scene at the "Chequers" would be detrimental to her plans. - -"I must go! I must go!" - -Her eye caught the window, and like a flash of lightning she sprang -towards it, tore it open, and bounded through into the darkness like a -panther, uttering a laugh of triumph as she vanished. - -Ferrari darted forward, but stopped half-way across the room in -amazement. - -"Dio! what a devil. I must go, or she will kill him." - -He put on his hat and coat rapidly, and, closing the window, left the -inn by the door. - -"My friend," he said to the landlord, "I go for a little walk. Addio!" - -Luckily none of the labourers outside had seen Mrs. Belswin leave, as -she had slipped past them in the shadow, and the road to Thornstream -being perfectly deserted, she was free from discovery. Ferrari had -explored the neighbourhood that afternoon, so, knowing the way to -Thornstream, walked slowly along the road until out of sight of the -inn, then ran rapidly onward through the darkness, longing to catch a -glimpse of the flying woman speeding towards Thornstream with murder -in her heart. - - - - -CHAPTER XX. -A MYSTERIOUS AFFAIR. - - - "Stark and stiff in the lonely night, - Stiff and stark in the dawning light, - There it lies - With unseeing eyes, - And placid face of a bloodless white. - - "Who hath slain this man by guilt and fraud - Bears on his brow, deep-seared and broad, - The blood-red stain - Which is mark of Cain, - Unseen by man but beheld by God." - - -The red light of dawn burned in the eastern skies, the first faint -thrill of life ran through the earth as the twitter of awakening birds -was heard in the green woods, then the glorious sun sent his beams -over the chill lands, bathing everything in golden splendour. -Thornstream Hall faced to the east, and the great shafts of sunlight -breaking through misty morning clouds, pointed downward like the -finger of God on to the terrace--to the open window of Sir Rupert's -study, and there in the splendour of sunrise lay a dead man. - -Face downward he lay, with half of his body in the room, the other -half on the terrace, and the hands stretched out in the form of a -cross, clenched in the agony of death. - -Last night--this morning--nay, but a few hours back, and this was a -living, breathing man, full of all the passions, sins, and hatred of -humanity; now an empty shell, a soulless husk, was all that remained -of Sir Rupert Pethram. - -Then the servants began to move about the house attending to their -morning duties, and one--it was the housemaid--entered the study to -put it in order. There she saw the dead man, and with a terrible cry -fell senseless to the ground. Her cry brought in her fellow-servants, -there were expressions of incredulous wonder, exclamations of horror, -and then a general hubbub of voices. - -In a few minutes all the household knew the terrible truth that Sir -Rupert had been found dead in his study, shot through the head, and -Dombrain came to the scene of the tragedy with horror on his face, -followed by Kaituna and Mrs. Belswin. - -"For God's sake don't let Miss Pethram see it," said Dombrain to the -butler, "nor Mrs. Belswin. It is not a sight for women." - -But it was too late; they were both in the room, and Kaituna with a -cry of horror fell on her knees beside the dead body of her father, -while Mrs. Belswin stood looking down at the corpse with an impassive -expression on her strongly-marked features. - -The servants had left the room in order to send for the police, and -only three persons were left with the dead man--Kaituna, convulsed -with grief, kneeling by the body, and Mrs. Belswin standing beside -Dombrain, both silently looking--at the dead man? No. At the weeping -daughter? No. At one another? Yes. - -The questioning look of Dombrain said-- - -"You were the dead man's enemy. Is this your work?" - -Mrs. Belswin's eyes replied defiantly. - -"I was, and am still, the dead man's enemy. I defy you to prove that -this is my work." - -They eyed one another steadily for a few moments, and then the man's -eyes drooped before the fierce daring of the woman's. - -There was silence in the room broken only by the sobs of Kaituna. - -"Come away, my dear," said Mrs. Belswin, bending down with a caressing -gesture. "Come to your room; we can do no good here." - -"Oh!" cried Kaituna, rising slowly from her knees; "who has done this? -My poor father! My poor father! Who has murdered him?" - -Again a flash of suspicion between Dombrain and Mrs. Belswin. - -"We do not know dear," said the latter, soothingly; "but Mr. Dombrain -has sent for the police. Perhaps they will find out the truth." - -"They must! they must!" cried the girl, in an agony of grief. "Oh, it -is terrible. To have come back for this. To be killed under his own -roof by an enemy. Oh, why does God permits such things?" - -"God permits many things," said Mrs. Belswin, bitterly, putting her -arm round the shrinking form of her daughter. "Come away, dear. All -that can be done will be done. The English police are clever, and may -perhaps capture the murderer." - -Dombrain smiled, and Mrs. Belswin noticed the smile. - -"Perhaps the murderer may escape," he said with emphasis, giving a -stealthy glance at Mrs. Belswin's coldly impassive face. - -"He may escape man; but he will not escape God," cried Kaituna, -fervently. "Oh, come away, Mrs. Belswin, come away. I shall die if I -stay here." - -"You will of course do everything that is necessary, Mr. Dombrain," -said the chaperon, as she led the weeping girl to the door. - -"Of course," he replied, stolidly. "I will arrange everything." - -Mrs. Belswin looked at him steadily, and then left the room with the -heart-broken daughter, while Dombrain, left alone beside the corpse, -drew a long breath. - -"What nerve," he said, under his breath; "what nerve." - -The police came, took possession of the house, brought down detectives -from London, questioned every one, held an inquest, and--discovered -nothing. Well; it was a difficult case. The police are not infallible; -therefore they failed to discover the murderer of Sir Rupert Pethram. -If it had been a low London murder case, for instance, of the -Whitechapel poker sort, then, indeed, the criminal would not have -escaped human justice; but in this affair it was impossible to move in -any direction. Justice promised to do what she could, and did nothing. -That bandage over her eyes is often in the way, and in this instance -blinded her altogether; so whomsoever had killed Sir Rupert Pethram -was quite safe, as far as this stupid, blind, blundering Justice was -concerned. - -Of course the police had a theory which explained everything, and -accomplished nothing. The daily papers argued one way, the police -argued another, the public gave their view of the matter; and after -great cry, there was little wool. - -Sir Rupert, according to an intelligent jury, came by his death at the -hands of a person unknown, a verdict which was vague, and might mean -anything. Then he was placed in the family vault, and the title and -estates went to a distant cousin; Kaituna left Thornstream a penniless -orphan, and a new order of things began. - -The new heir was a man of business, who was hard, and prided himself -on being hard. He had a large family; and thinking the Thornstream -rents was quite small enough to rear his dozen children--male and -female in equal proportion--declined to do anything for Kaituna, whom -he scarcely knew. - -Mrs. Belswin, thereupon, stepped forward, and took Kaituna off to -London with her to see Mr. Dombrain, and ascertain, if possible, what -private property Sir Rupert had died possessed of. Mr. Dombrain was -quite happy to oblige Mrs. Belswin in every way and did what he could; -but that was comparatively little; so little indeed, that it made no -difference in the financial position of Kaituna, and she remained -dependent on the bounty of Mrs. Belswin. - -But Archie Maxwell! Oh, he behaved admirably. On hearing of the death -of Sir Rupert, through the medium of the press, he came down at once -to Deswarth, consulted with Toby, and made every effort to find out -the assassin of Sir Rupert, but without success. Then he proposed to -marry Kaituna as soon as possible after the death of her father, which -arrangement was approved of by Mrs. Belswin, who added, however, that -they could not marry on nothing; and as Archie was not rich, and -Kaituna was now poor, there was nothing left for them but to wait. - -This Archie agreed to do, after much persuasion, but meantime was with -Kaituna as often as possible. He came up to London with Mrs. Belswin, -helped her to select a comfortable lodging; and when his sweetheart -and her chaperon were established, went off on his own account to see -Mr. Dombrain. - -"Has Miss Pethram absolutely nothing?" he asked. - -"Really," says the solicitor, "I don't know if I can give you any -information----" - -"Yes, you can! I am engaged to Miss Pethram, and I am going to marry -her as soon as I can. I don't want her money for myself, but I want -her to get her rights." - -"Mr. Maxwell," said Dombrain, solemnly, "the late Sir Rupert was a -great friend of mine, and I would do anything for his daughter, but -I'm afraid that she inherits nothing but two thousand shares." - -"Oh, indeed! In what company?" - -"In the Pole Star Silver Mining Company, Limited Melbourne, -Australia." - -"Are they worth anything?" - -"Not even the paper they are written on." - -"Hump!" said Archie, thoughtfully, "from what I heard of Sir Rupert, I -should hardly think he was a fool, and no one but a fool would invest -his money in a rotten company. Do you know anything of Australian -mining?" - -"I know New Zealand," replied Mr. Dombrain, evasively, "but I'm not -acquainted with Australia. The mine may turn up trumps. On the other -hand it may not." - -"Are these shares all the property left by Sir Rupert?" - -"Yes! He had land in New Zealand; but when he came in for the title he -sold it all, and invested the money in these shares. He thought he -would be able to save money from the Thornstream rents, to leave to -his daughter, but as he occupied the position of master such a short -time, of course he saved nothing." - -"And the new baronet, Sir Thomas, will do nothing for Miss Pethram?" - -"Nothing!" - -"What a scoundrel!" - -Mr. Dombrain shrugged his shoulders, and declined to commit himself to -an opinion,--a legal opinion is worth seven shillings and sixpence, so -there is no use wasting that amount. - -"By the way," said Archie, as he was going, "what do you think of this -murder?" - -"I think it is a most mysterious affair," said Dombrain, after a -pause. "I can't account for it; I was staying in the house as you -know, and left Sir Rupert in his study quite hearty. I heard no pistol -shot, and in the morning he was dead. Most extraordinary." - -"Had Sir Rupert any enemies?" - -"My dear sir, we all have enemies," replied Dombrain, evasively. - -"I dare say; but one's enemies don't go as far as murder as a rule," -answered Archie, dryly. - -"No! no! that is true. But really, Mr. Maxwell, you know as much about -the murder as I do, and I dare say are as completely in the dark." - -"I shan't be in the dark long." - -"How so?" - -"Because I'm going to find out who murdered Sir Rupert." - -"Take my advice and don't try," said Dombrain slowly. - -"Why not?" demanded Maxwell, looking at him keenly. - -"Because you'll discover nothing. How can you? The police have -failed." - -"I don't believe in the police much," replied Archie lightly. "I may -succeed where others have failed. Good-bye. Mr. Dombrain, I am going -to see Miss Pethram, and will probably see you again about these -shares." - -When Maxwell had departed the solicitor sat in deep thought for a few -minutes. - -"I wonder," he said at length, "I wonder if he knows anything about -Mrs. Belswin." - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. -ARCHIE MAKES HIS PLANS. - - - "If you are my friend, - I set you this task. - Aid me to an end, - If you are my friend, - Your comradeship lend. - This secret unmask. - If you are my friend - I set you this task." - - -"Maxwell, Globetrotters, to Clendon, Vicarage, Deswarth.--Come to me -at once. Important." - -Toby was a lover and therefore unwilling to leave the vicinity of his -beloved; but he was also a friend, and being of a kind, staunch -nature, speedily made up his mind to obey at once the telegram. His -father who sincerely regretted the misfortune which had befallen the -unfortunate Kaituna and her lover, warmly approved of his son's going -away; so, Toby's mind being at rest concerning the parental opinion, -he rode over to the Valpys, in order to see what Tommy thought about -the matter. - -As he expected, she said he was to lose no time in going to Maxwell, -and also gave him several affectionate messages for Kaituna. - -"You don't know how sorry I am for her, Toby," she said, with a sigh. -"Fancy losing your father and then all your money." - -"Still Archie is left," observed Toby, wisely. - -"Yes; I'm glad of that. She will always have him to protect her, and -that kind woman, Mrs. Belswin. Now then, Toby, don't you say there are -no good people in this world when Mrs. Belswin has acted as she has -done." - -"I never said there were no good people in the world," retorted her -lover in an injured tone. "I only said that good people are few and -far between." - -"Of course," went on Tommy, without noticing this defence, "Kaituna -could always have found a home with ma and I. I wish she had come here -instead of going to London; but Mrs. Belswin seems very fond of her, -and then Mr. Maxwell will marry her soon, so she will be happy some -day." - -"I wonder why Mrs. Belswin is so very fond of Kaituna," speculated -Toby, idly. "Paid companions as a rule don't go beyond their wages in -the matter of affection, but Mrs. Belswin goes the entire bakery." - -"Toby, don't be vulgar," replied Miss Valpy, reprovingly; "Mrs. -Belswin is a very superior woman." - -"I hate superior women." - -"Oh, thank you!" - -"You're not a superior woman," said Clendon, laughingly. - -"What am I, then?" - -"The dearest girl in the world." - -"I am! I am! You'll find that out when your wife's milliner's bill -comes in. Now, don't, Toby! There are more important things than -kissing." - -"Not just now," replied Clendon, and kissed her twice. "Good-bye, -dearest I shall expect a letter every day." - -"Will you really? How long will you be absent?" - -"I don't know! It depends on what Archie wants to see me about." - -"Well, I'll write. Good-bye, and take my love to Kaituna." - -"Certainly; only I hope it won't get damaged during the transit." - -So they parted, and Tommy returned to discuss Kaituna's future with -her mother, while Toby packed his portmanteau, and, after taking leave -of his father, caught the afternoon train to town. - -Archie Maxwell, when engaged in foreign parts, underwent all -incidental hardships without a murmur, and accepted all disagreeables -with a philosophy beautiful to behold; but Archie Maxwell when in -London indemnified himself for all such hardships by giving himself as -many pleasures as his income permitted him. Being a young gentleman of -good family, he had a very reputable circle of acquaintances, he had -very pleasant rooms in the West End, and belonged to the -Globetrotters, which is, as every one knows, a very exclusive club. -Being clever in his profession, Archie made a very decent income, and -having no reason that he knew of to save money, spent every penny he -made with a kind of "it-will-be-all-right-in-the-end," philosophy; but -now that he was engaged to Kaituna, he made various excellent -resolutions about economy, and resolved to put by as much as possible -for the future home of Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell. - -He was a very methodical young man, was Mr. Maxwell, and speedily -made up his mind what course to pursue, which course involved the -co-operation of Clendon--hence the telegram which brought the latter -up to town. - -As Toby had let his chambers during his visit to Deswarth, Archie -offered to put him up for the night, which offer Clendon accepted with -avidity, as he too was on the economic tack. Oh, it was truly a -beautiful spectacle to behold these young men, formerly so careless of -money matters, now as careful of the shillings as they had been -careless of the pounds. On this night, however, as Archie was going to -arrange his future plans, he proposed to Toby that they should, for a -few hours only, revert to the dear old extravagant days and enjoy -themselves. To this Toby, who hankered after the flesh pots of Egypt, -agreed; so they arranged to have the best dinner which the -Globetrotters was capable of providing; and afterwards Archie was to -unburden his mind to his friend. - -The Globetrotters is a very pleasant club, in an excellent situation, -and as the members are all travelled men of a sociable turn of mind, -the society to be found there is not to be despised from an -informative point of view. Had Marco Polo, or Christopher Columbus, -lived in the nineteenth century, they would certainly have been -members of the Globetrotters; and as for Ulysses--but then Ulysses was -fond of feminine society, so perhaps he would not have cared for the -exclusively masculine element of the club. At all events, when Archie -(who being a traveller, was a member) arrived with Toby--who being a -stay-at-home, was not--they found a great many pleasant people there, -including a bearded traveller, who had been lion-shooting in Africa; -another who had made arrangements to find out the North Pole, if he -was able; and several other nineteenth century productions, who all -knew and liked Maxwell. Archie, however, was too taken up with his -plans to waste much time in hearing adventures about big game -shooting, and artful savages; so he went off with Toby to a very -retired table, where they had an excellent dinner under the -supervision of a friendly waiter, who was as great a traveller as any -in the club, having been a steward on a P. & O. liner. - -After dinner, during which they had discussed various topics, all -bearing on the Pethram murder, and their future married happiness, -Archie and his friend sought a secluded corner in the smoking-room, -ordered coffee and cigarettes, and, when they were thoroughly -comfortable, began to talk business. - -"Toby," said Archie, reflectively, "we've known each other a good many -years." - -"Seeing we were at school together I may say we have," replied -Clendon, smiling. "Come, now, Archie, you want me to do something, and -don't like asking." - -"That's true, because I'm going to ask you to make a sacrifice." - -"Not to give up Tommy?" - -"No! no! I don't want to break your heart, old fellow; but I--I----" - -"Well, what is the sacrifice?" - -"I want you to leave England for a few months and go to Melbourne." - -"What for?" asked Toby, aghast at this strange request. - -"I'll tell you! I have been to Dombrain, who is the late Sir Rupert's -lawyer, about the will; and I find he has left Kaituna all his -personal property." - -"Well, that's jolly." - -"The personal property consists of shares in a silver mine, which at -present are worth nothing." - -"Oh! that's not jolly. But what about Thornstream? Isn't Kaituna the -heiress?" - -"No! Thornstream is entailed on the male side, and all the property -goes with the title. Had Kaituna been a man, she would have inherited; -but as she is a woman she doesn't get a penny." - -"I see." - -"The present baronet," pursued Archie, smoothly, "is a beastly -skinflint, and won't give Kaituna a penny; so had it not been for the -kindness of a stranger--I allude to Mrs. Belswin--I don't know what -the poor girl would have done." - -"I do," said Toby, emphatically; "she would have gone to the Valpys, -who asked her to come; or to the vicarage, where the dear old pater -would have looked after her. Bless you, Maxwell, she would have been -all right." - -"I know both your father and the Valpys are good kind people," replied -Maxwell with emotion; "and of course, if the worst came to the worst, -she could have married me at once, and we would have got on somehow. -Still all these possibilities do not make Mrs. Belswin's kindness any -the less." - -"She's a good sort," said Clendon, feelingly. "Why, if Kaituna had -been her own daughter she couldn't do more for her than she is doing. -But get on with your story." - -"Well, Kaituna, as I have shown you, gets nothing from Thornstream or -the present baronet; so all she inherits is her father's private -property. Now, in New Zealand he had a good deal of land, but when he -came in for the title he converted it all into cash, and with that -cash he bought two thousand shares in The Pole Star Silver Mining -Company, in Melbourne." - -"Wasn't that rather rash?" - -"I don't know. It certainly appears so. Now Dombrain assures me that -the shares are not worth the paper they are written on; but I've got -my doubts on the subject; so I want you to go out to Melbourne and -find out all you can about the mine." - -"But what can I do? I know nothing about mining." - -"Oh, you can find out from the brokers if the mine has any prospect of -turning out well. Dombrain is arranging all the will business, so as -soon as Kaituna is legally in possession of the shares I will send out -the scrip to you, and also a power of attorney. Perhaps the mine will -turn up trumps; if it does, you can sell, if not--well, there's no -harm done." - -There was silence for a few moments, during which Toby was thinking -deeply, and his good-looking face wore a more thoughtful expression -than usual. - -"Of course, Archie," he said at length, "I am anxious to oblige you in -all things; but you must admit that this is a little serious." - -"Oh, yes. I told you it was a sacrifice," replied Archie, readily. "I -would go myself, only I have a strong reason for remaining in -England." - -"May I ask that reason?" - -"Yes. I want to find out who killed Sir Rupert." - -"You'll never do that," said Toby, shaking his head. "Why, my dear -lad, the police could find absolutely no clue." - -"The police be--blessed," retorted Archie, with contempt. "I am going -on my own ideas in this matter; and I'm going to get Mrs. Belswin to -help me." - -"But she knows nothing." - -"That's very likely; but she saw Sir Rupert on the night of his -murder, and if she can recollect her conversation, who knows but what -some chance word in it might lead to the detection of the murderer. -Besides, Mrs. Belswin is a very clever woman, and in a case of this -difficulty, women see clearer than men." - -"Why are you so anxious to find out this murder?" - -"Because I want to set Kaituna's mind at rest. The poor girl is -worrying herself about the affair; and if I can find out and punish -the assassin of her father, it will give her great relief." - -There was again a short silence, and then Archie went on speaking: - -"You see now, my dear lad, why I wish you to help me in this. I cannot -do both things myself at the same time; for if I go to Melbourne, the -murderer of Sir Rupert may escape; and if I stay and hunt for him, the -mine may turn out a success, and no one will be there to look after -Kaituna's interests." - -"Does Kaituna know all your ideas," asked Toby, thoughtfully. - -"Yes; and approves of them. So does Mrs. Belswin. You see, as she has -been such a good friend to Kaituna, I had to tell her everything." - -"Of course; quite right," responded Toby, heartily. "Well, old fellow, -I'll tell you what. Some time ago _The Weekly Scorpion_ spoke to me -about taking a trip out to Australia, and writing up the colonies; so -if I accept that, I'll combine pleasure and business." - -"That would be capital," said Archie, with a sigh of relief; "for to -tell you the truth, Toby, I was rather anxious about the money for you -to go with. Kaituna has none. I can't ask Mrs. Belswin; so I would -have had to find it myself." - -"Archibald Maxwell," said Clendon, wrathfully, "do you mean to say -that you thought I would have been such a mean wretch as to let you -find all the expenses of my voyage?" - -"Well, I couldn't ask you to give your time and money also." - -"Oh, couldn't you? Don't be an ass, old chap. Had I gone without the -_Scorpion_ chips, I would have halved the ex's; but this newspaper -business cuts the Gordion knot. All I have got to do is to accept -their offer, and I shall get all my expenses paid, and a jolly good -price for my articles into the bargain, which cash can go to hurry up -my marriage." - -"Well; will you go?" - -"As far as I can see at present, yes," replied Toby, quickly; "but I -must speak to Tommy and the pater." - -"They may object," said Maxwell, dolefully. - -"Oh, no, they won't," retorted Clendon, gaily. "Bless you, a trip to -Australia is nothing nowadays. I could do it on my head. And I will -too, considering it's at the Antipodes." - -Archie rose to his feet with a sigh of relief. - -"I'm so glad there is a chance of your doing what I ask you," he said -gratefully. - -"It all depends upon the home authorities," replied Clendon, -judiciously; "but I think you can set your mind at rest, old fellow. -I'll go home to-morrow, and wire you result of inquiries. I think you -can pretty well rely on everything being fixed up beautifully." - -"You're a good fellow, Toby." - -"I am! I am! My friends don't know half my virtues. But about this -detective business of yours, Archie, I'm afraid you won't find out -anything." - -"I'll try, at all events. 'Nothing is done without trying.'" - -"Oh, if you're going in for copy-book maxims, I've nothing more to -say." - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. -MRS. BELSWIN CONSIDERS WAYS AND MEANS. - - - Fortune's a jade. When we don't require her, - She ever beside us is staying. - Fortune's a jade. For when we desire her, - She never responds to our praying. - -Mrs. Belswin was not a rich woman. When she left her husband she took -no money, naturally supposing that Silas P. Oates, who played the part -of co-respondent in the divorce case, would take care of her. Their -romance, however, came to an end, for the lady's temper being -uncertain, and the gentleman's income being equally so, things went -anything but smoothly, so they parted. Where her quondam lover went -Mrs. Belswin neither knew nor cared, but for her part she earned -enough to keep her comfortable by becoming an opera singer. She was a -handsome woman, with a fine voice and great dramatic powers, so as -time went on she took a first class position on the boards, and -therefore earned a great deal of money. Unfortunately, being -open-handed and careless in money matters, she spent her income as she -earned it, and when she arrived in England in search of her daughter, -found herself very badly off. Of course, owing to the peculiar -position she held at Thornstream, she had received no salary, as Sir -Rupert was the only one who could pay her, and when he saw her, -naturally the money question gave way to much more important matters. - -After Pethram's death, Mrs. Belswin had taken possession of Kaituna -with the intention of marrying her to Maxwell, but now found herself -in London with a daughter to provide for and very little money in the -bank. - -Ferrari, certainly, would have been delighted to have shared his -salary with her, but Mrs. Belswin had always kept the Italian at his -distance, and was determined not to give him any hold over her by -being in his debt. Since leaving Oates, she had lived a decent life, -earning her own money and asking favours from no one, so that although -she had led a somewhat Bohemian existence, yet, for the sake of her -child, she had kept herself pure. Reckless, vehement, careless as she -was of all outward appearances, no one could cast a stone at her in a -moral sense, and Ferrari, knowing this well, respected her for it. He -had often pressed her to take money from him, to be repaid by her -marrying him, but Mrs. Belswin, not being prepared to discharge her -debts in this way, had always refused. Even now, when her daughter -looked to her for support, and but a few pounds stood between her and -absolute want, she never thought of asking Ferrari for money, and had -he, suspecting her needs, offered it, she would certainly have -declined to take advantage of his generosity. - -Therefore to appeal to Ferrari was out of the question. But what about -Maxwell? - -No, Mrs. Belswin had her daughter's happiness too much at heart to -jeopardise the girl's future by an appeal to the purse of her future -husband. Besides, Maxwell was not rich, for she had heard him lament -to Toby Clendon over his lack of money, which made him an unacceptable -son-in-law to Sir Rupert. - -Clearly, therefore, she could not ask Archie. - -Of course there was Dombrain. No doubt, if she asked him he would give -her money; but suppose he refused to assist her? Ah, well, then she -could force him. - -At this point of her meditations Mrs. Belswin stopped. - -Could she force him? It was questionable. She did not like the way he -looked at her over the dead body of her husband. Certainly she knew -his secret and could damage his position in London, which he prized so -highly, but then, a worm will turn, and if appearances were against -her as they certainly were, about the death of Sir Rupert, he could -make things very disagreeable for her. Formerly she would not have -minded, but would have dared him in her old reckless fashion, trusting -to her indomitable will to carry her through safely, but now she had -Kaituna to think of as well as herself, so she determined to leave Mr. -Dombrain alone. - -Ferrari, Maxwell, Dombrain. She could ask none of the three to assist -her, and yet something must be done. The terrible blow of her father's -death had left Kaituna prostrate with grief, and she looked to Mrs. -Belswin for every thing. Yes, the daughter, ignorant of the mother's -personality, depended upon the mother as she would have done had she -known the truth; and Mrs. Belswin, although concealing her real -relationship; acted towards her newly-recovered daughter with the -utmost tenderness. - -Still, what about money? - -There was the stage. She could resume her profession, but that would -entail time to obtain an engagement and constant absence from Kaituna, -who was not fitted in her present upset state of mind to be left -alone. So after going over all kinds of possibilities in her mind, -Mrs. Belswin found herself at her wits' end which way to turn for -assistance. - -Coincidences happen in real life as well as in novels, and it was a -curious thing that Mrs. Belswin should find in a society journal the -name of Silas P. Oates mentioned as staying at the Langham Hotel. - -Silas P. Oates, millionaire. Most extraordinary! He had arrived just -in time, for she could apply to him for money. He was her old lover; -he was the man who had ruined her life; he had deserted her -shamefully; but now he was rich, and had a right to help her. Yes, she -would call on him at once and ask him for assistance. For the sake of -the dead-and-gone days he would not refuse. So with a smile of -satisfaction Mrs. Belswin looked at the paper again. - -"Mr. Silas P. Oates is accompanied by his wife and daughter." - -Oh! he was married then--married and respectable--while she was still -tossing on the stormy waters of the Bohemian ocean. Ah, these men, -these men! they always have the best of it. They love, and ruin, and -forsake a woman, and then settle down into respectable members of -society; while the woman, who has lost all for their sake, is -condemned for the rest of her life to be the sport of one sex and the -scorn of the other. - -Still, now that he was married she would certainly be able to obtain -what she wished, for he would not dare to refuse lest she should speak -to his wife and destroy his happiness. - -It never struck Mrs. Belswin that to act in this way would be -dishonourable. She had been a free-lance for so long, and had been so -accustomed in fighting her way through the world to use all kinds of -weapons, that the means she intended to employ to extort money from -Oates seemed quite legitimate. Many a woman would have died rather -than have applied for help to the man who had basely deserted her; but -Mrs. Belswin, her moral sense blunted by constantly battling with the -stormy world, not only intended to get money from her old lover, but -intended to apply that money to secure the happiness of her innocent -daughter. Here is a text for the preacher on human nature. Does the -end in this instance justify the means? Strange things are done in -this world of ours, but surely nothing more fantastical or shameful -entered a woman's mind than to use her former disgrace as a means to -secure her daughter's ease and peace of mind. And yet Mrs. Belswin -could not see it--did not see it--and made up her mind to call on -Silas P. Oates the next day, and not leave him until she had his -cheque for a considerable amount in her purse. - -To-day, however, Archie was coming in order to tell them about Toby -Clendon's proposed mission to Australia, and Kaituna was seated at the -window watching for his coming, while Mrs. Belswin pondered over the -problem of Silas P. Oates. - -It was a dull little sitting-room, in a dull little house, in a dull -little neighbourhood, but then the aforesaid neighbourhood was -eminently respectable, and that satisfied Mrs. Belswin. In her dread -lest her daughter should be tainted by Bohemianism, Mrs. Belswin had -gone to the opposite extreme, and, with the assistance of Archie, -taken lodgings in a severely respectable quarter, where church bells -rang every other hour of the day, and nothing less genteel than a -four-wheeler was ever seen in the dingy street. - -Their abode was situated in Grail Street, which was so deserted that -it put the reflective in mind of London during the plague, especially -as a hearse was no uncommon sight owing to the undertakers (Wilps & -Co., High Class Pauper Furnishers) being at the corner. All the houses -were sad-looking, in keeping with the corner establishment, and -Kaituna's face was sad also as she looked out on to the lonely road on -which fell the fine rain. - -Dressed in black, with her hands lying listlessly in her lap, and her -face thin and worn with trouble, Kaituna looked a very different girl -in the dingy London lodging from what she had been at Thornstream. -Mrs. Belswin thought so as she glanced at her after answering the -money question, and went across to her with a look of anxiety on her -face. - -"Kaituna, my dearest, do not look so sad," she said, tenderly bending -over the girl. "You make me feel so terribly anxious." - -Kaituna pushed her thick hair wearily off her forehead, and sighed -deeply. - -"I cannot help looking sad," she replied, listlessly; "I feel sad. A -few months ago and I was so happy; now everything is taken away from -me." - -"Not everything, dear. You have still me." - -"You!" echoed Kaituna, with a wan smile, taking the elder woman's -hand. "Ah, Mrs. Belswin, what should I have done without you, my good -angel!" - -"Don't call me a good angel, dear," said Mrs. Belswin, hurriedly. "I -am not good. God help me! had I been good things would have been -different." - -"I don't know what you refer to," replied Kaituna, simply, stroking -the hand she held. "All I know is that you have been good to me. -Without you I should have died. You are my only friend." - -"You forget Archie," said Mrs. Belswin, with an attempt at lightness. - -"No; I don't forget him, good, kind fellow; but, Mrs. Belswin, I -cannot hold him to his promise. I am poor now. It will be unfair for -me to drag him down. I must go away. I cannot stay to be a burden on -you--a burden on him. You must let me go." - -"Where?" asked Mrs. Belswin, quietly. - -"I don't know. I will get the position of governess somewhere. Mrs. -Valpy will recommend me. She knows what I can do." - -"Then you wish to leave me?" said Mrs. Belswin, reproachfully. - -"No, I do not; but how can I ask you to keep me like this? You--a -stranger!" - -"A stranger!" said Mrs. Belswin, with a strange smile. "My dear, you -must not look upon me as a stranger. I told you my story once--about -my little child. Now you stand to me in that child's place. I love you -like a daughter! If you left me I should go mad. Leave me! No, -Kaituna, you must not--you shall not leave me. Promise that you will -always stay beside me!" - -The vehemence of the woman frightened Kaituna, unnerved as she was by -what she had gone through, and she shrank back in alarm. - -"Dear Mrs. Belswin----" - -"Oh!" cried the woman, walking up and down the room with tears -streaming down her face, "for you to go away--to leave me, after all -that I have suffered. You do not know what you say. You call me a -stranger. I am a stranger. Yes! I am Mrs. Belswin, who was your hired -servant. But I love you, Kaituna, like a daughter. You will not leave -me--oh, my child, you will not leave me?" - -She flung herself on her knees beside the girl, and looked up into her -eyes with a fierce intensity of gaze that moved the girl strangely. - -"No, I will not leave you, since you wish me not to," she said gently; -"but indeed, Mrs. Belswin, I don't deserve such love." - -Mrs. Belswin covered the hand she held with kisses, and sobbed -hysterically; then the strange creature suddenly dried her eyes, and -rose to her feet with a smile on her lips. It was the savage nature -all over. One moment all fury, the next calm and smiling. She never -controlled herself in any way, but let her natural moods and fancies -have full play; so the result was bizarre, and rather terrifying to a -more civilised nature. By this time, however, Kaituna, perhaps from a -secret chord of sympathy inherited from her savage progenitors, was -beginning to understand Mrs. Belswin's whirlwinds of passion and -sudden transitions from storm to calm; therefore, when the present -outburst was over, the two women chatted together quite easily, as if -nothing unusual had occurred. - -"But of one thing I am certain," said Kaituna, after a pause; "that it -is not right for me to marry Archie at present. I am poor, so is he, -and I cannot consent to drag him down with me." - -"My dear, you are too fine in your ideas," said Mrs. Belswin, with a -superior smile. "Archie Maxwell loves you, and if you refused to marry -him it would break his heart. Besides, perhaps the Pole Star shares -will be worth a lot of money." - -"I'm afraid not. It's no use building up hopes on those. Ah, my poor -father. He thought to make me an heiress, but he has only made me a -pauper. My poor, poor father. Was he not a noble man, Mrs. Belswin?" - -"Yes, dear; yes! But you forget I only had a short interview with -him." - -"I remember, on the night he died--the night that he was murdered. Oh, -if I could only discover who killed him. But I can do nothing. I am -only a woman, and have no money to employ any one, so he must lie in -his grave unavenged. Oh, who will help me?" - -The answer came in an unexpected manner from the servant opening the -door and announcing-- - -"Mr. Maxwell!" - -"Curious!" murmured Mrs. Belswin: "that is the second coincidence -to-day." - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. -BETTER LEAVE WELL ALONE. - - - "When things to outward view are smooth, - 'Tis wisest to disturb them not. - Restrain the prying eye of youth - When things to outward view are smooth; - For should ye seek to learn the truth - Much evil may by chance be wrought. - When things to outward view are smooth, - 'Tis wisest to disturb them not." - - -When he entered the room Archie looked very pleased, and a trifle -excited, which happy demeanour was noticed at once by Mrs. Belswin. - -"Good news?" she asked, as he greeted her, and walked over to Kaituna -with the eager step of an expectant lover. - -"Very good news," he replied gaily, "the best of news. Toby is going -out to Australia to look after your fortune, Kaituna." - -"My fortune," echoed Kaituna, faintly, raising her eyes to his bright -face. "I'm afraid my fortune is a myth." - -"Not at all! Not at all!" replied Maxwell, kissing her pale cheek. -"Your fortune at present is not in the clouds, but in the earth; and -when The Pole Star Company find that rich lode they are now looking -for, you will be a female Cr[oe]sus." - -"I hope so, for your sake." - -"I hope so, for both your sakes," said Mrs. Belswin, bluntly; "and -then there will be no more talk of breaking off the engagement." - -"What, our engagement?" cried Maxwell, in an astonished tone, looking -from the one to the other. "Why, what do you mean?" - -"Ask Donna Quixota there, my dear Mr. Maxwell. She has been talking -the high-flown nonsense which the virtuous heroine uses on the stage -when she appeals to the gallery. She knows you love her for herself -alone, and that I cannot live without her; yet she talks about leaving -us both on some absurd scruple of honour." - -"My dear Kaituna, you are surely not in earnest," said Archie, -smoothing the girl's dark hair. "Mrs. Belswin is jesting, I suppose?" - -"No! she is repeating my words in a slightly different way." - -"But, Kaituna?" - -"Now you are going to begin a discussion," said Mrs. Belswin, -good-humouredly, "so I will leave you for a time. But first, Mr. -Maxwell, tell me about your friend. You say he is going out to -Melbourne?" - -"Yes! I got a letter from him to-day. Miss Valpy and his father are -both agreeable, and he starts by one of the Orient line in a -fortnight." - -"But the money?" said Mrs. Belswin, in some dismay, thinking of her -straightened means. "What about the money?" - -"Oh, that is all right," answered Maxwell in a satisfied tone. -"Providence has tempered the financial wind to the Clendon lamb. He is -going to write a series of articles on Australian cities for _The -Weekly Scorpion_, so the benevolent editor of that paper pays his -expenses." - -"Oh!" said Mrs. Belswin, with a sigh of relief, turning towards the -door, "I'm so glad. It's a good omen for the silver mine. I hope he'll -come back as prosperous as he leaves. Now I'm going away for a few -minutes, so I'll leave you, Mr. Maxwell, to convince Kaituna that -things will turn out better than she expects." - -When Mrs. Belswin vanished, Archie took Kaituna by the chin, and -turned her face towards his own. - -"You wicked young woman," he said, laughing; "how can you speak, even -in jest, about leaving me?" - -Kaituna rose to her feet, and walked backwards and forwards several -times in deep thought. Then she paused before Archie, and looked -steadily at him with her clear, honest eyes. - -"Archie," she said, at length, "believe me, I did not speak without -reason. While my father was alive there was a chance of our marrying, -for I would have persuaded him to consent some time, and Mrs. Belswin -would have helped me. But he is dead, and I have not a penny in the -world. How then can I marry you, who have nothing but your profession -to depend upon, and that profession one which means constant -travelling? If you married me you would have to leave me, for we -should not be rich enough to travel together. You would find me a drag -upon you. Enough for one is not enough for two. I love you! You know I -love you! And it is for that very reason that I want to break off our -engagement, and not be a burden to you in the future." - -Maxwell laughed, as she ended this long speech, and seizing her hands -drew her towards him. - -"What a capital lawyer you would make," he said, with an indulgent -smile; "but let us look on the other side of the question. Say that -these shares turn out to be worth a lot of money, will you expect me -to give you up?" - -"No, no! Oh, no!" - -"Ah! you see then that the case is the same with me. You love me for -myself. I love you for yourself. It is no question of money between -us. With you as my wife, I would work hard. I shall only be too proud -to work for you. We shall not be rich; but we should be happy. No, my -dearest, I should indeed be unworthy of your love did I look at the -future from your point of view. I love you! You are mine; and rich or -poor, we will always be together." - -"But----" - -"But me no buts," said Maxwell, in a peremptory tone, putting his arm -round her neck. "You know what I say is right. You love me, do you -not?" - -"Yes." - -"And you will never leave me?" - -Kaituna kissed him, with tears in her eyes. - -"No; I will never leave you." - -Archie pressed her to his heart with a cry of joy, and at this moment -Mrs. Belswin entered. - -"Well, young people?" - -"I have explained away all objections," said Maxwell, as Kaituna -withdrew her arms from his neck, "and we are going to marry on nothing -a year." - -"Meanwhile," said Mrs. Belswin, satirically. - -"Meanwhile," echoed Maxwell, rising, "I am going to speak to you for a -few minutes, and then take Kaituna for a walk in the Park. You'll take -compassion on a lonely bachelor, will you not, dearest?" - -"Yes. I'll go and put on my things at once," said Kaituna, whose face -now looked much brighter than before. - -"Archie." - -"Yes." - -"I am afraid you'll be a dreadful tyrant when I marry you." - -She laughed, and ran out of the room, whereat Maxwell also laughed out -of sympathy; but when the door closed the laugh died away on his lips, -and he turned gravely to Mrs. Belswin, who had resumed her seat. - -"Well," said that lady, with a half smile, glancing at him; "you look -as gloomy as a November day. What are you thinking about?" - -"Sir Rupert's death." - -Mrs. Belswin half expected this reply; but, notwithstanding, gave a -sudden start at the abruptness of his speech. - -"You are still determined to find out the cause of his death?" she -said, slowly. - -"I don't think there is any question on that point," he replied, with -emphasis. "He was shot, and I want to find out who shot him." - -"What good will that do?" - -"It will set Kaituna's mind at rest." - -His listener played with the plain gold ring on her finger--the ring -which had been the symbol of her marriage with the murdered man--and -frowned. - -"If I were you, I'd let sleeping dogs lie," she said, at length, -without raising her eyes. - -"No! I will not! See here, Mrs. Belswin, I know quite well that -Kaituna is anxious to find out the murderer of her father. If she does -not it will embitter her whole life. She cannot bear to think of him -lying unavenged in his grave. Herself, she can do nothing, but I, her -promised husband, can." - -"I'm afraid you over-calculate your powers as a detective." - -"Perhaps I do," he answered, calmly; "but I'm going to try, at all -events, and see if I can unravel this mystery. Did I intend to let -sleeping dogs lie, as you phrase it, I would have gone out to -Australia myself to look after the silver mines, but as Clendon has -taken that trouble off my hands I am going to devote myself to finding -out the man who murdered Sir Rupert." - -He spoke with such determination that she felt convinced he would -carry out his intention, and fidgeted about in her seat for a few -moments, then, walking to the window, stood looking out into the dull -street, while she made her next remark. - -"I don't think it will do any good. Where the police have failed you -cannot hope to succeed." - -"I hope to do so, with your help." - -"My help?" she echoed, facing round suddenly so that her back was to -the light and her face comparatively in the shadow. "What can I tell -you?" - -"Mrs. Belswin," said Maxwell, gravely, "you were one of the last -people who saw Sir Rupert alive." - -"Yes, that is so," she answered without moving a muscle, "but I told -all I knew at the inquest." - -"I suppose you did; but can you think of nothing else?" - -She looked at him with a piercing glance, as if trying to read his -soul, but saw nothing that could make her think that he suspected her -in any way of being connected with the murdered man. - -"I told all I knew at the inquest," she repeated. "I had an interview -with Sir Rupert about your marriage with Kaituna. He refused his -consent, and I left the study. Kaituna had gone to bed with a bad -headache, so I did not wish to make it worse by my ill news. Therefore -I retired to rest at once, and knew nothing more until the next -morning." - -"You heard no pistol shot?" - -"None." - -"Strange!" said Maxwell, thoughtfully: "no one seems to have heard a -pistol shot, and yet such an unusual thing must have attracted -attention." - -"You forget that Sir Rupert's study was some distance away from the -sleeping apartments, and I think at the time he was killed every one -was in bed." - -"But he was not shot in the room, but from the terrace." - -Mrs. Belswin started again, - -"How do you know that?" - -"I don't know it, I only presume so. The body was found lying half in -and half out of the window; so my theory is that Sir Rupert came to -the open window for a breath of air, and the assassin, concealed in -the shadow of the terrace, shot him through the head." - -"It's a very excellent theory--still, it is only theory." - -"Yes, I know that," said Maxwell, ruefully. "You don't know if Sir -Rupert had any enemies, Mrs. Belswin?" - -"I! Why I did not even know Sir Rupert himself until I spoke to him -that night in his study." - -There was no doubt that Mrs. Belswin was a magnificent actress, for -she uttered this lie without the least hesitation. - -"No, of course not," answered Maxwell, after a pause. "I know he was a -stranger to you. Still he must have had enemies. I wonder if Kaituna -could tell me." - -"Ask her!" - -"No, I won't. It will only upset her. She is so agitated over the -whole affair. I'll go and see the detective who had the case in hand, -and I won't tell Kaituna anything until I can say, 'This is the -murderer of your father.'" - -"It's a wild-goose chase." - -"Perhaps. Still something may be discovered." - -At this moment Kaituna returned, dressed for walking, and after -bidding fare well to Mrs. Belswin, Archie went out with his -sweetheart, leaving the chaperon still standing by the window. - -Mrs. Belswin twisted her hands together, and looked at the carpet with -an angry frown. - -"Something maybe discovered," she repeated in a thoughtful tone. "I -don't think so. The assassin came out of the night, fulfilled his -mission, and disappeared again into the night. Not all the machinery -of the law could find out the truth, and where the law failed I don't -think you'll succeed, Archibald Maxwell." - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. -A MEMORY OF THE PAST. - - - I. - "The present becomes the future. - Yes! but the present does not again become the past; - Time goes forward forever--we cannot return on his footsteps, - For the laws of the universe are unalterable, unchangeable and - fixed. - - II. - "Yet when I see you before me, - I am inclined to doubt all that has existed since the shaping of - the earth from chaos. - For you appear as you did in those far-distant days, - When love and sin made up the sum of our lives. - - III. - "Phantom! - Vanish again into the darkness from whence my memory hath - called thee! - As a God I have re-created thee--as a God I condemn thee to - disappear. - I live the present, the future--but the past I will not renew. - Lest such phantoms as you should turn the past into the present." - - -In a private sitting-room of the Langham Hotel sat Mr. Silas P. Oates, -of New York City, millionaire, who had come to England with his wife -and daughter to spend his money, secure a titled husband for his only -child, and look round generally. - -He had made his money in a somewhat unexpected way by sundry dealings -in stocks and shares, besides which he had bought a clever invention -cheaply of the inventor--a poor man--and by dint of dexterous -advertising and persistent pushing had boomed it into a big success. A -far-seeing man was Mr. Oates, none too scrupulous, who regarded his -fellow-men as so many sheep to be shorn of their rich fleece; but he -always kept to the letter if not the spirit of the law, and therefore -regarded himself as a keen business man, who had made his enormous -fortune honestly. All his little knavish tricks, his taking advantage -of his fellow-creatures when they were in difficulties, and his -unscrupulous, unblushing lying, he designated under the collective -name of business; and however scandalous his dealings might appear to -God, they certainly appeared legitimate to his brother business men, -who mostly acted the same way. - -Therefore Silas was called "a sharp business man." All his twistings -and turnings and chicanery and sailing close to the wind went to pile -up the dollars; and however he might have ruined less clever men than -himself, however he imposed, gulled, and swindled the public, he was -generally admitted in the Land of Freedom to be a 'cute man, who was a -worthy representative of the great god Mammon. Charity, according to -the Bible, covers a multitude of sins, but money occupies a much -higher place nowadays in the covering process, and all the doubtful -ways by which he had acquired his fortune disappeared in the eyes of -the condoning world under the golden cover of the fortune itself. - -This worthy product of the nineteenth century was a short, thin, -active little man, with a parchment-coloured skin, dark hair, -moustache, beard, eyebrows, and eyes, and a quick, delicate -restlessness about him, like a bright-eyed bird. He was dressed neatly -in a quiet gray suit, wore no jewellery, not even a watch-chain, and -was always on the alert to see something to his advantage. Outwardly, -he was a quiet, respectable, decent little fellow, who, as the saying -goes, would not harm a fly; inwardly, he was an astute blackguard, who -called his evil doing "business," who always kept well within the law, -and had dethroned the Deity in favour of himself. His past was bad and -tricky, so much so that it would hardly bear looking into by a man -with a conscience; but even though Mr. Oates had no conscience, he did -not indulge much in retrospection: not that he dreaded remorse, but -simply looked upon such dreaming as a waste of time. - -At present he was perfectly happy. He had made a lot of money, he had -a pretty wife for whom he cared nothing, a charming daughter for whom -he cared a great deal, and was now going to show the Old World what -the New World could do in the way of making a splash. It was a very -enviable frame of mind to be in, and one quite beyond the reach of an -honest man, who would have been disturbed at the memory of how he had -made his money. But Silas only thought how pleasant it was he had made -so much money, for the making of which he had to thank no one--not -even God, who, in His inexplicable mercy permitted this gilded worm to -reap the golden reward of a life of legitimate legalised rascality. - -Mr. Oates, therefore, was happy, and thought no one could upset that -happiness in any way; but he found out his mistake when the waiter -brought in a card inscribed, "Mrs. Belswin." - -"Well, sir," drawled Silas, looking doubtfully at the card, "this lady -wants to look me up?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Mrs. Belswin!" soliloquised the American in deep thought. "I can't -fix her nohow. Ask the lady to step this way." - -"Yes, sir." - -The alert, active waiter disappeared, and Mr. Oates pondered. He did -not know the name; he had only arrived in England the previous day, -and was unacquainted with any one. What then did this strange lady -want with him? Luckily, Mrs. Hatty K. Oates had gone out shopping with -her daughter, else the situation might have been awkward for Silas, -whose domestic hearthstone was not quite free from connubial rows -caused by jealousy. His wife, however, was away, and would not be home -for the next few hours, so Mr. Oates, feeling rather curious as to the -business of his fair visitor, was by no means sorry that he had a -chance of passing his afternoon in feminine society. - -His visitor entered the room heralded by the waiter; then the latter -retired, closing the door carefully after him, leaving the pair alone. -The lady was dressed in black, and wore a heavy crape veil, which -suggested mourning to the astute Silas; and after he had gathered as -much as he was able from a keen glance at this draped veiled figure, -he politely placed a chair for her. - -"You wish to see me, madam?" he asked, resuming his own seat. - -"I do, for a few minutes. I am an old friend of yours." - -Mrs. Belswin's voice was muffled by the veil, and moreover Silas had -not heard it for nearly twenty years, so he did not recognise his -visitor in the least, and was considerably puzzled by the concluding -part of her speech. - -"An old friend!" he said doubtfully, smoothing his chin. "From the -States?" - -"Yes; down 'Frisco way." - -"Oh!" - -Mr. Oates started. He had many acquaintances down 'Frisco way, but -they could hardly be called friends, as they very much disapproved of -his method of doing business. - -"I've got an eye for faces," said Silas, in a jaunty manner, "so if -you put up that veil I've no doubt I can fix you." - -"I'm afraid I shall startle you." - -"I'm not easily startled, madam. My nerves are in good working order." - -"Are they? Then I'll put them to the test." - -Mrs. Belswin suddenly threw back her veil and bent forward so that her -face was in the strong light, whereupon Silas gave a whoop like a wild -Indian, bounded from his chair and gasped. - -"I'm afraid you over-estimate the working order of your nerves, -Silas," said Mrs. Belswin, scoffingly; and then leaning back in her -chair, waited for Mr. Oates to make the next move in the game. - -"Great Scott! It's Mrs. Pethram. I thought you were dead!" - -"And wished it too, I've no doubt," said Mrs. Belswin, bitterly. -"Well, are you not glad to see me?" - -"No!" replied Silas, truthfully; "I'm uncommon sorry." - -"Ah! you've learned to speak the truth since I saw you last," observed -the lady, raising her eyebrows, "otherwise you're not much changed. -The same ugly little monkey with whom I ran away from New Zealand. -I've often wondered why I did run away with you," pursued Mrs. Belswin -with charming candour, "and now I see you again I wonder more than -ever." - -Silas grinned in an uneasy manner. He would have preferred her to be -less cool, to pay more deference to his position, but she seemed as -candid as ever, and he almost expected to have something damaging -flung at his head, as had been her custom in the old days. It was a -very disagreeable position, so Silas rose to the occasion, and -immediately set to work to emulate her coolness, and find out how he -could circumvent this unwelcome visitor from the past. - -"I see you're still in the vinegar line," he said easily, resuming his -seat. "I guess you did turn me over for a bit. It takes a pretty stiff -dose to do that, but this time you've raised Cain proper." - -They were delightfully amiable to one another, the more so as a -feeling of distrust pervaded the whole conversation; but as Mrs. -Belswin wanted to waste no time, in case the wife of her former lover -should turn up, she opened fire at once-- - -"I dare say you're surprised to see me." - -"It's no good beating round the bush. I'm surprised and sorry." - -"You'll be sorrier before I've done with you." - -"Hello! What are y' going to show your teeth about?" - -"Nothing, if you'll do what I ask." - -"See here, Mrs. Pethram," said Silas, leaning forward with his shrewd, -sharp, foxy face, "it's no good your tryin' to play low on me. I've -cut my eye teeth, I can tell you. You think you've got the whip hand -of me. That's as I take it. Well, you can drop that dodge. I ran off -with you to 'Frisco 'cause I was a born fool. I did love you, only you -were more like a redskin than a civilised woman. We agreed to part -company twenty years ago, and I've kept my part of the contract. I've -gone right along in the money line, and this time I've come home on -the winner. I'm married and straight now, and I don't want no one to -put things wrong between my wife and me. As you're an old friend I'll -act square by you if it's money, but if it's blackmail your looking -after, it's no go, and you'd better believe it." - -Mrs. Belswin was in all things a headstrong, impulsive woman, without -any craft or power to disguise her feelings. She had come to Oates -with the fullest intention of threatening to tell his wife their -former relations if he refused to give her money; but here was her -adversary calmly placing the whole of her nefarious scheme before her, -and she felt completely nonplussed. Oates, on the other hand, was so -accustomed to trickery that Mrs. Belswin was a mere child in his -hands, and the course he was now adopting was certainly the only means -by which he could hope to checkmate her. - -"Well, madam!" said Silas, triumphantly, seeing his plain speaking -had taken Mrs. Belswin aback, "what do you say?" - -Mrs. Belswin acted like a fool, lost her temper and stormed. - -"You despicable little wretch," she said, starting to her feet, with -her eyes blazing with anger, "how dare you speak to me like this? Was -it not for your sake that I lost my husband, my good name, my position -in the world? And yet you dare to taunt me with it. You are now rich, -married, and respectable. I, on the other hand, am poor--yes, poor, -otherwise my life for these last twenty years has been above reproach. -Oh, you may laugh! You judge me by yourself, but I tell you since I -left you I have led a decent life. The reason I refuse to tell you. -Now hear what I have to say. I would not have come to you unless it -was a case of dire necessity, I hate you too much to have ever desired -to set eyes on you again, but I was compelled to come, because I want -money. Give me a cheque for £500 and I won't trouble you again. -Refuse, and I'll tell your wife all." - -"Will you, indeed?" sneered Silas, mockingly. "Don't try the -black-mailing game, for you won't bounce a cent out of me. That's so, -Mrs. Pethram. My wife knows all about you. I told her all when I was -married." - -"That's a lie," said Mrs. Belswin, fiercely. "I don't believe it." - -"I reckon it's true, though." - -"I won't take your word for it, so I'll ask your wife." - -"She'll be here at three-forty. You can wait." - -It was all bravado on the part of Oates, as he was in deadly fear lest -his wife should come in and learn all. True this discreditable -connection had taken place before his marriage: but Mrs. Oates would -not take that fact into consideration, and would make things very -unpleasant for him. With all his cleverness and craft, Silas was a -coward at heart; so as Mrs. Belswin sat there, evidently determined to -await the arrival of his wife, he skirmished round, in order to find -out some weak spot in her armour by which he could beat her. Had he -betrayed fear, Mrs. Belswin would have at once perceived that she had -the advantage; but he did nothing but sit smiling before her, and all -she could do in her mad rage was to tell all to Mrs. Oates, thereby -cutting her own throat, and benefiting nothing by revelation. - -"Say," queried Mr. Oates, airily, "why don't you look up Pethram?" - -"He is dead.' - -"Is that so?" said Oates, somewhat startled. "Died in New Zealand, I -guess?" - -"No, he didn't. He died in England." - -"What did you kill him for?" - -It was simply an idle, malicious question, as Silas never for a moment -dreamed that the husband and wife had met, or that there had been -anything strange about the husband's death. Foolish Mrs. Belswin, -never thinking, flashed out at once, on the impulse of the moment, -quite forgetting that she was putting a sword into her enemy's hand. - -"I didn't kill him. How dare you say so? No one knows who murdered -him." - -Silas jumped up from his seat with an exclamation of surprise, as his -apparently idle question had evidently drawn forth something -important. - -"Oh, he was murdered, then?" - -"Didn't you know," said Mrs. Belswin, haughtily, "when you spoke to me -like that?" - -"I know nothing," returned Silas, coolly. "I only spoke because I know -if you had met Pethram in one of your fiendish tempers you would have -put a knife in him." - -Mrs. Belswin saw that she had raised a suspicion in the mind of Silas, -so was now careful as to what she said. - -"You're talking at random. Pethram is dead, and some one shot him; I -don't know who. You can see all about it in the papers." - -Silas made no answer, as he was thinking. Owing to Mrs. Belswin's -unsuspicious nature he had learned a very important fact, which might -possibly lead to his circumventing her demands for money. So he made -up his mind at once how to act, and acted. - -"See here," he said, good-humouredly, pulling out his cheque-book; -"I'll do what I can for you. Tell my wife or not, if you like; but -now, if five hundred dollars are of any use, I'll give you that lot -straight off." - -"Five hundred dollars," said Mrs. Belswin, coolly--"one hundred -pounds. Well, that will do in the meantime; but I'm to have the rest -next week, or I'll make things hot for you, Silas." - -The American had his own opinion on the subject, but, with his -habitual craft, said nothing. Filling up the cheque, he gave it to -Mrs. Belswin, who took it without a word of thanks, and put it in her -purse. - -"I've made it payable to Mrs. Belswin," said Oates. "That's your last -name, I guess?" - -"It has been my name ever since I left you in 'Frisco," retorted Mrs. -Belswin, fiercely. "You need not insinuate that I have been leading a -bad life. I've no doubt my past would bear more looking into than -yours." - -"You've the same old style, I see," said Silas, insolently, "all -gunpowder and dynamite. Well, I guess that now you've got what you -came for you'll get." - -"As you elegantly phrase it, I'll get," rejoined the lady, letting -down her veil. "But let me hear from you next week about the rest of -the money, or I'll come and interview your wife." - -"Oh, I'll write you straight," answered Silas, with a peculiar smile, -as he accompanied her to the door. "Good-bye, Mrs. Pethram--beg -pardon, Mrs. Belswin." - -"Neither correct, sir," said his visitor, jeeringly. "My Lady -Pethram." - -Silas closed the door after her, with a smile which faded from his -face when he found himself alone. - -"Lady Pethram!" he echoed thoughtfully "I reckon then that Pethram got -his handle. Well, now I'd better look after that murder case, and then -I'll fix that she-devil right along the line." - -Having thus made up his mind, he sent for a file of the _Daily -Telegraph_ of the previous month, and went steadily to work to read up -the Thornstream case, which he had no difficulty in finding. He also -discovered the address of a private inquiry office, and at once wrote -a letter instructing them to send him a detective. This business being -concluded, he lighted a cigar, rubbed his dry, lean hands together and -chuckled. - -"Two can always play at a game, my lady," he muttered; "but this time -I guess you'll stand out." - - - - -CHAPTER XXV. -SILAS PLAYS HIS LITTLE GAME. - - - "'Tis very hard to play the game of life; - For tho' you keep your eye upon the board, - And move your puppets in well-thought-out ways, - Just when the winning seems within your grasp, - Some pawn is touched by stealthy-fingered Chance, - And straight the would-be victor looses all." - - -In his dingy office sat Mr. Dombrain before his desk, in deep thought; -and judging from the frown on his coarse face, his thoughts were not -of the pleasantest. He bit his hard nails, he pulled at his stubbly -red moustache, drummed on the table with his large hairy hands, and in -fact displayed all the symptoms of a man very much disturbed in his -mind. The cause of this disturbance was Mrs. Belswin, and, seeing that -he was alone, Mr. Dombrain for the moment threw off his professional -suavity and cursed the lady heartily. Had she been present, she would -have laughed at his outburst of wrath; but as she had just left the -room, he was free to make as rude remarks as he pleased, and he -certainly took full advantage of his solitude. The wrath of Mrs. -Belswin and the subsequent flattening out of Mr. Dombrain arose out of -the following circumstance. - -The lawyer, seeing that Kaituna had been left penniless, except for -certain shares, which he truly assured her were not worth the paper -they were written on, had, in a spirit of philanthropy, offered to buy -those shares off her at his own price--which was a very small one--so -that Miss Pethram would have something to live on. He wrote a -letter--a generous and noble letter, from his point of view--in which -he offered to take these undesirable shares in the Pole Star Mining -Company off her hands at a great sacrifice to himself, and Mrs. -Belswin had answered the letter on behalf of Kaituna in person. As she -was a lady who never minced matters, however unpleasant, and moreover -never exercised any self-control, Mr. Dombrain had rather a bad time -of it for a quarter of an hour. He had seen that phrase in a French -novel, but had never thoroughly understood its significance until Mrs. -Belswin illustrated it to him in her own graphic manner. She said--oh, -he hardly remembered what she said, except that she used the word -"swindler" pretty often, and made several pointed allusions to the -disgrace of an ex-convict exercising an honourable profession in -London. - -Mr. Dombrain could have said something rather disagreeable to her, -which would certainly have shut her up, but this modern Xantippe gave -him no opportunity of saying a word. She came, she saw, she raged, -stormed, crushed, conquered, and finally departed in a whirlwind of -passion, telling him that Clendon was going to look after the shares -in Melbourne, and that if he dared to try any tricks on her she -would--she would---- Mr. Dombrain shivered when he thought of what she -said she would do. - -Now, however, that she was out of the room, and he had collected his -thoughts, scattered by her terrific onslaught, he began to think, and -after several minutes of thinking and frowning, he grinned. Not a -pleasant grin by any manner of means--a nasty Mephistophelean grin -that boded ill to his adversary. She had been unpleasant to him; well, -he could now be unpleasant to her, and in a way she wouldn't like. He -constructed a little scheme in his head which he thought would answer -his purpose, and was about to make a few notes relative to the same, -when a card was brought in to him. - -"Silas P. Oates." - -Mr. Dombrain shivered, and had the clerk not been present he would -have sworn. As it was, however, he merely told the clerk to show the -gentleman in, and then trembled at the thought of this second phantom -of the past which had succeeded to Mrs. Belswin. She knew about his -little mistake in New Zealand, so also did Mr. Oates; and Mr. Dombrain -groaned in dismay as he thought of the double chance of exposure now -threatening him. Did the American come as a friend, as an enemy, or in -ignorance? Dombrain hoped the first, dreaded the second, but felt -pretty confident that the third was the American's state of mind, as -he certainly would never connect Dombrain the solicitor with Damberton -the convict. However, it would be decided in another minute, so Mr. -Dombrain smoothed his hair, imposed a nervous grin on his mouth, and -waited the advent of this second bogie with inward fear but outward -calm. - -The millionaire entered, quite unaware of the second shock which -awaited him; for his purpose in seeking out Mr. Dombrain was wholly -unconnected with the idea that he would find an old friend. The fact -is, Mr. Oates had read the Thornstream case, had noticed that Mrs. -Belswin was mixed up with it, and had sought out Mr. Dombrain--whose -name was also in the papers--with the idea of finding out the precise -position held by Mrs. Belswin in the house of her former husband. Sir -Rupert's solicitor could tell him this if it was drawn from him -artfully. Mr. Dombrain was Sir Rupert's solicitor, so to Mr. Dombrain -came the wary Silas, wholly ignorant of what awaited him. - -Silas did not notice Dombrain particularly at first, but sat down in -the chair beside the table and cast about for some good idea wherewith -to begin an extremely awkward conversation. Dombrain saw that he was -not recognised, so kept his face in the shadow as much as possible, -and spoke in a low, gruff voice, as if his throat was stuffed with -cotton wool. - -"I have called, sir," observed Mr. Oates, after a preliminary cough, -"to speak to you about the late Sir Rupert Pethram." - -"Yes?" - -"You, sir, I understand, were his lawyer. Is that so?" - -"That is so," replied Dombrain, unconsciously dropping into the -Americanisms of the speaker. - -"A friend of mine, sir," pursued Mr. Oates, after another pause, "was -connected, I believe, with the deceased. I allude, sir, to Mrs. -Belswin." - -"Mrs. Belswin!" - -The name so startled Dombrain, that he forgot his intention of keeping -his identity concealed from his visitor, and speaking in his natural -voice started forward so that his face was clearly seen by Silas. Now -Mr. Oates, in addition, to his many other gifts for getting the better -of his fellow creatures, possessed a remarkably retentive memory in -the matter of faces, and in spite of the alteration Mr. Dombrain had -made in his appearance, recognised him at once. This time his nerves -did not belie the reputation he gave them, and after a slight start he -leaned back in his chair with a slight, dry smile. - -"I opinionate," remarked Silas, reflectively, "that I've been on your -tracks before." - -"No!" - -"It was," continued Silas, without taking any notice of the denial, -"it was in New Zealand, sir. Dunedin was the city. A healthy gaol, -sir, according to the guide books." - -"I don't know what you're talking about," said Dombrain, doggedly, -resuming his seat. "I never saw you before, and I'm a stranger to -you." - -"Dombrain is a stranger, I confess," said Silas, fixing his clear eyes -on the sullen face of the man before him, "but I can size up the party -called Damberton without much trouble. I reckon I can tell you a story -about him, Mr. Dombrain, if you want particulars." - -"No, no!" said Dombrain hoarsely, wiping his forehead; "it's no use -beating about the bush. I am Damberton, but now I'm quite respectable. -You surely are not going to----" - -"I'm goin' to do nothin', sir. You ain't upsettin' my apple-cart. No, -sir. That's a fact, anyhow." - -"Then what do you want me to do for you?" asked Dombrain, with a sigh -of relief. - -"Well, now," replied Silas, thoughtfully, "that's just what I've got -to find out. Mrs. Belswin--hey! Do you know who Mrs. Belswin is?" - -"Yes, the she-devil! Pethram's wife. She was here half an hour ago." - -"Is that so? I say, you ain't playin' in the same yard, I guess. Not -much, when you call her names." - -"I hate her!" said Dombrain, fiercely; "she is the curse of my life." - -"I reckon she's been raisin' Cain here," observed Silas, shrewdly. -"Well, that ain't any of my business, but she's been tryin' the same -game on with me. Now I'm a quiet man, sir, and I don't want no -catamount spittin' round my front door, so I want you to put the set -on that lady." - -"What can I do?" - -"I've been readin' your noospapers, sir. They can't scream like the -American eagle. Not much! But I read all about that shootin' case, and -I see you were waltzin' round! hey! Mrs. Pethram wasn't far off -neither, I guess." - -"No; she was companion to Miss Pethram." - -"Well, you do surprise me, sir. I s'pose her daughter didn't rise to -the fact that Mrs. Belswin was her mamma." - -"No; she knew nothing. Mrs. Belswin obtained the situation while Sir -Rupert Pethram was absent. When he returned she had an interview with -him, and----" - -"And he passed in his cheques," concluded Silas, musingly. "Queer -thing that, anyhow." - -"You don't think," began Dombrain hastily, when Silas interrupted him -promptly. - -"I don't think at all," he said, rising and putting on his hat. "I -don't want to think. Compoundin' a felony isn't in my line nohow." - -"But surely, sir----" - -Oates, who had turned away, faced round suddenly, with a sharp look in -his foxy face which made Dombrain feel somewhat ill at ease. - -"See here, Mister," he said slowly. "Mrs. Belswin's been round at my -hotel tryin' to get dollars. I gave her five hundred, and now this -bank's shut. She gets no more, I guess, this fall, because you'll tell -her she's not to come gavortin' round my claim no more." - -"But I can't stop her." - -"No?" said Silas, interrogatively, "I guess you can. See here, Mr. -Damberton, I know what you are--none better, and that's straight. You -know what Mrs. Belswin is, and if she plays low on you, sir, just ask -her where she got the little gun to fix up things with her husband." - -"But she didn't kill him." - -Silas laughed disbelievingly. - -"I don't know nothin' of that game, sir. It's a cut beyond me, and -that's a fact. All I say is, that if Mrs. Belswin comes on the -war-path to my ranch, I'll tell some things about Mr. Damberton that -Mr. Dombrain won't smile at. You take me, sir, I fancy." - -"Yes!" said Dombrain, slowly, while the great drops of sweat gathered -on his forehead, "I understand." - -"Bully for you," replied Mr. Oates, in a friendly tone, going to the -door. "Good-mornin', sir. I'm pleased to see you again. It's like the -old days, and that's a fact." - -Mr. Oates sauntered out with his hands in his pockets and Dombrain -flung himself in his chair, and, burying his face in his hands, sobbed -like a child. - -"My God," he sobbed passionately, "am I to lose all after these -years?" - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI. -VAE VICTIS. - - - "Those who went forth in brave array - Return again at the close of day, - With tattered banners that flaunted gay, - And swords now broken that once could slay; - Their march is sad and slow. - - "Oh, sorrow for those who could not die, - Who, lion-hearted, were forced to fly, - And now for ever in chains must lie; - For hark, there rises the terrible cry-- - 'Woe to the vanquished, woe.'" - - -When Mrs. Belswin received a letter from Mr. Dombrain asking her to -call, she was considerably astonished, as she had thought her last -interview with him would have pretty well resigned him to the loss of -her society. But evidently he was now throwing down the gage of -battle, so Mrs. Belswin, like an old war-horse at the sound of a -trumpet, felt a certain exultation at the thought of the coming fight, -and lost no time in assenting to the request of the solicitor. - -What he wanted to see her about she could not imagine, unless it was -to make another offer for the Pole Star shares, and as she had already -set his mind at rest on that point, it seemed ridiculous to think that -he would waste his time in trying to encompass the impossible. She was -now quite at ease in her own mind regarding money matters, as the -hundred pounds she had obtained from Silas, together with what she -already had in the bank, would enable her and Kaituna to live in -comfort for the next three or four months in an economical way. Of -course, she quite expected to be in possession of the other four -hundred the next week, which would place them in affluence until the -report of Toby came home about the Pole Star shares, and judging from -the offer made by Dombrain, Mrs. Belswin, with feminine acuteness, -guessed that the shares were more valuable than they now appeared to -be, so that their sale in a few months would realise a decent sum for -Kaituna. If this turned out to be the case, Mrs. Belswin intended to -persuade Kaituna to marry Archie at once, and the future of her child -being thus secured, she cared little for herself. She could certainly -marry herself, as both Ferrari and Belk were devoted to her, but she -despised the first for his cowardice in the matter of removing her -husband, and the latter, in spite of his good looks, was of too lowly -a station for her to think seriously of in any way. - -Since her departure from Thornstream, Belk had written to her several -times--ardent, passionate letters, which showed plainly how deeply in -love he was with her; and Mrs. Belswin could not but feel a thrill of -pride at the thought of her own attractions, even at the mature age of -forty-five. At present, however, she had more important things to -think of than marriage, and drove along to Dombrain's office in a -puzzled state of mind, trying to think of the reason why he wanted to -see her, so that she could be prepared to hold her own. - -That Silas had stolen a march on her she never for a moment dreamed; -and had she guessed the real object of the interview sought by Mr. -Dombrain, she would doubtless have felt somewhat ill at ease. As it -was, however, she knew nothing; and thus, ignorance being bliss, she -walked boldly into the dingy office, and took her accustomed seat with -her usual defiant air. - -Dombrain himself was rather nervous, although he now assumed a -bullying manner towards the woman he was afraid of. She had held a -power over him which had hitherto precluded him from talking to her as -he would have wished; but now he had discovered something about her -life which gave him the advantage, and he determined to use his power -to insult, sneer, and crush her; in fact, treat her in the same way as -she had hitherto treated him. - -In spite of her violent temper, her foolish impulses, Mrs. Belswin was -not without a certain amount of feminine cunning; and, as she was -quite in the dark concerning the object of the interview, and, -moreover, did not like the ill-concealed look of triumph on the part -of the solicitor, she held her tongue, waiting for him to begin the -attack, so that a chance word might afford her an opportunity of -fathoming his motives. - -"Well, Mrs. Belswin," said Dombrain, with a nasty grin on his -coarse-looking face, "and how are you to-day, after your conduct in -our last interview?" - -Mrs. Belswin looked him up and down in a sneeringly insolent manner, -which made him writhe. - -"I think I ought to ask that question," she said, disdainfully, -"considering that I left you crushed, like the little reptile you -are." - -"Oh, no. None of those compliments, if you please. Last time you had -it all your own way; this time I have it all mine." - -"Two can play at every game." - -"Yes; but one generally holds trumps. This time I hold trumps. Do you -play cards, Mrs. Belswin? If so, you know that the game is to the -player with the strongest hand." - -"I congratulate you on your knowledge of gambling. And may I ask what -you are talking about?" - -"All in good time, Mrs. Belswin--all in good time. First and foremost, -I wish to know about your visit to Silas Oates. Ah! you start at that. -You are not quite so confident as you were at our last interview." - -"I think you are mistaken," replied Mrs. Belswin, coldly. "There can -be nothing to interest you in my interview with Mr. Oates. If you -fancy your knowledge that I called on him makes me afraid, you were -never further from the truth in your life. I am not to be terrified by -an ex-convict." - -It was the old threat that had formerly reduced Mr. Dombrain to -silence; but now it appeared to have lost its power, for the -ex-convict leaned back in his chair and laughed insolently. - -"People who live in glass houses should not throw stones." - -"What do you mean?" - -"Exactly what I say." - -"You seem to have been at your private whiskey-bottle," said Mrs. -Belswin, rising impatiently; "but as I am not in the mood to listen to -your drunken ravings I will go." - -"Oh, no, you won't. Of course you can if you like; but you had better -hear what I have to say." - -"I will give you five minutes," replied Mrs. Belswin, resuming her -seat, "no more." - -"That will be enough. Now, just listen to me. Mr. Oates has called, -and informed me of your attempt to blackmail him. You have got one -hundred pounds, and he says he will not give you any more." - -"That is a question that has nothing to do with you, sir." - -"Oh, yes, it has," retorted Dombrain, coolly. "He asked me to stop you -from calling on him again, and I intend to do so." - -Mrs. Belswin laughed long and loudly. - -"Do you, indeed? And may I ask how you intend to stop me?" - -Mr. Dombrain leaned across the desk, glanced round to make sure they -were alone, then whispered slowly-- - -"By asking you how you killed your husband." - -She sprang to her feet with a pale face, her eyes flashing fiercely. - -"It's a lie! You know I had nothing to do with it." - -"I'm afraid a jury wouldn't take that view if they heard my evidence." - -"Your evidence! the evidence of a felon." - -"That's a pretty name, but instead of abusing me, you'd better look -after yourself." - -Mrs. Belswin sat down again and spoke deliberately. - -"I don't know what your object is in talking like this, but I will -take it as a favour if you will let me know precisely how you connect -me with my late husband's death. You say I killed him. You hint you -can prove it. That's a lie, because if that was the case I should be -in prison now. No! No! Mr. Damberton, you are not the man to spare a -woman." - -"Certainly not you, who have made my life a hell for the last few -months." - -"We can exchange these compliments afterwards. First your story." - -Dombrain, who was growing weary of all this fencing, lost no time in -responding to this request, and began at once. - -"As you know, I was staying at Thornstream on the night you arrived. -Ostensibly, I had come down to see Sir Rupert on business, but my real -motive was to see how you intended to meet him. You did not appear at -dinner, and I thought you would put off the interview until the next -day. I was tired with my day's work, and was about to retire to rest -when I saw you descending the stairs, upon which I hid myself, lest -you should see me." - -"Coward!" ejaculated Mrs. Belswin, disdainfully. - -"No, I was no coward, but had I been foolish enough to have spoken to -you, in one of your paroxysms of anger, you might have revealed my -true position to Sir Rupert, out of spite." - -Mrs. Belswin thought how she had really done this, and how ignorant -the man before her was of his narrow escape from exposure--an exposure -only prevented by the death of Pethram. - -"Therefore," resumed Dombrain, coldly, "I hid myself, but I watched -the door of the study. You entered there, and the door was closed. A -long time passed--the servants put out the lights, shut up the house, -and retired to rest. Miss Pethram, I have learned since, retired early -on account of a headache, and as the whole Thornstream household kept -country hours, by the time the clock struck ten--the hall clock I am -speaking of--all the house was asleep except you, Sir Rupert, and -myself. The half-hour sounded, still you had not left the study--the -three-quarters struck, but the door was still closed. I waited, and -waited, and wondered. Eleven sounded from the clock in the hall, and -at a few minutes past the door opened, and you appeared, pale and -ghastly, like a guilty spectre. Closing the door softly after you, -with a furtive look round, lest some one should be watching, you fled -upstairs, brushed past me, and went into your bedroom. This was all I -wanted to see. I knew you had met your husband, that he had not turned -you out of the house, so never dreaming that you had committed a crime -to screen your real self, I went to bed. Next morning----" - -He flung open his arms with a dramatic gesture, quite in keeping with -the stagey way in which he had told the story, and became silent, with -his small eyes viciously fastened on the unfortunate woman before him. - -She was sitting like an image of stone, pale and still, with tightly -compressed lips, and a lurid fire burning in her fierce eyes. Only the -nervous working of her hands lying in her lap betrayed her deep -agitation, and when he had finished, she looked at him with a smile of -disdain. - -"And you saw all this wonderful thing like a cat in the dark," she -said, scoffingly. - -"No! You know perfectly well that the hall lamp was still lighted, for -Sir Rupert himself had told the servants not to wait up, as he would -work late, and he would put it out himself. I saw perfectly well all I -have described and you know it." - -"So you think I killed my husband?" - -"I'm sure of it. According to the evidence at the inquest, the time of -his death was between ten and eleven. I can prove that you left the -room at eleven o'clock, so you must have left your dead husband behind -you." - -"If you saw all this, why did you not tell it at the inquest?" - -"Because I wished to spare you." - -"No! No! Don't lie to me like that. I am your bitter enemy! Why did -you spare me?" - -"I will tell you. Whether you killed Sir Rupert or not was nothing to -me, personally. My reputation as a lawyer is a great deal to me. Had I -denounced you, the result would have been----" - -"That I should have told all about you, and you would have been struck -off the rolls. Ah! I thought you had some motive for sparing me. Well, -what do you intend to do now?" - -"Tell all, unless you promise to leave Oates alone." - -"If you do your position will still be lost." - -"I know it, I know it!" cried Dombrain in despair; "but what can I do? -If I do not stop your going to Oates, he knows me, and he will tell -all. If I do stop you, then you in revenge will tell all." - -"I see, you are between two fires," said Mrs. Belswin, calmly. "Well, -set your mind at rest; I will trouble Silas Oates no more." - -"You will not?" - -"No. All I wanted out of him was money, but as to that you will take -his place and be my banker." - -"I?" - -"Yes, you! Pshaw, man, you needn't look so scared! You know well -enough that the money will be returned to you when those shares are -sold." - -"But they are worth nothing." - -"So I thought until you wanted to buy them," said Mrs. Belswin, with a -sneer. - -"You forget I hold your life in my hand!" cried Dombrain, -threateningly. - -"Well, and I hold your position in mine," retorted Mrs. Belswin. "My -life is a great deal to me, your position is everything to you. I am -willing to leave Silas Oates alone if you give me money when I require -it; if not, you can denounce me when you like." - -"And then you will be hanged!" said Dombrain, spitefully. - -"Bah! I can prove your story to be a lie." - -"How so?" - -"I'll tell you now. Good heavens! did you think that if I was guilty -I'd think my life safe in your keeping? My neck against your position? -Bah! the thing is ridiculous. I can clear myself and ruin you at the -same time, but I want no scandal, nor my daughter to know who I am, as -she inevitably must had I to publicly defend myself of your charge of -murder. So you see that on my side I have as much a desire as you to -keep matters quiet. Now then, I'll leave Silas Oates alone, I will not -go near him; but if I want money you must supply it." - -"I will do so--to any reasonable amount," replied Dombrain, hastily. -"But you say you are innocent?" - -"And I am." - -"After what I've seen I don't believe it. If you did not kill him, who -else had a motive?" - -"How do I know? I was not in all the secrets of Sir Rupert's life. But -I can tell to you, so afraid of losing your pettifogging position, -what I dare not tell any one else. I saw Sir Rupert's dead body on -that night, but I did not kill him." - -"Then you know who did?" - -"No, I do not." - -"Let me hear your story," said Dombrain, with a disbelieving smile. - -"When I entered the study," began Mrs. Belswin, without further -preamble, "I saw my husband. He recognised me at once. We had a -stirring interview, and he turned me out of the house. I left by the -French window, where he was found lying dead; and in order to get -shelter for the night, I went to 'The Chequers' in Deswarth. I'm not -telling you all the story, mind you, but only what suits myself. In -the dock I should tell everything. Well, to resume. I waited at 'The -Chequers' for some time, and then determined to return to Thornstream -to say good-bye to my daughter, as I knew Sir Rupert would prevent me -seeing her the next day. I arrived on the terrace just when the hour -of eleven sounded. There was still a light in Sir Rupert's study, and -stealing along in the dark, I saw his dead body lying half in and half -out of the window. A full sense of the danger of my position flashed -on me, and I saw that if I was arrested I was lost. I dare not try to -enter the house by any door as they were all locked, and if a servant -admitted me I should have to account for my being out at that hour of -the night, which would lead to my being accused of the murder. The -only way to regain my own room in safety was across the dead body of -my husband, so I entered by the French window, left by the study door, -and regained my bedroom without any one having seen me--except you. I -did not kill him! I swear I did not!" - -"I'm afraid that story would not go down in a court of law." - -"I told you I had kept some of the story to myself. To use your -favourite illustration, I still hold my trump card." - -There was silence for a few moments, during which Mrs. Belswin, -considerably agitated, used her smelling-bottle freely. Then Dombrain -spoke. - -"Well, there's nothing more to be said." - -"I think not," said Mrs. Belswin, rising. "You know my conditions!" - -"And you know mine, I think," retorted Dombrain with a malignant grin. - -She cast upon him a glance of supreme contempt, and went to the door. - -"I'll see you again when I want money," she said, and vanished. - -"Humph!" said Mr. Dombrain, thoughtfully; "if I can find out the part -of the story you won't tell, I may be able to stop your seeing me -altogether." - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII. -THE CASE. - - - "Out of the night, and into the light, - Comes the doer of evil deeds. - Out of the light, and into the night, - With a sin on his soul he speeds. - But the hemp is sown, and the tree is grown, - That will hang him high as a murderer known, - Himself hath planted the seeds." - - -To be an amateur detective requires a certain amount of capital. There -are people "who know" to be discovered, and a search after them cannot -be successfully conducted without money; and when the people "who -know" are brought under the eye of the inquirer, they frequently -decline to speak unless well paid for their information. Money, -therefore, is essential to the success of solving a mystery, and when -Archie Maxwell sat down calmly to consider the aspect of affairs, he -found himself at once face to face with the question of funds. - -He was young, he had talents, he had a profession; so with all these -endowments looked forward to making a fortune, which is the ambition -of every well-constituted youth in this age of gold. Unfortunately, -like the magical draught of Mephistopheles, time is required to make -money, and as every moment was of importance in finding out the -mystery of Sir Rupert's death, Archie could not waste four or five -years in getting together sufficient to prosecute his inquiries. It -was true that he was engaged to go out to Buenos Ayres at the end of -the year, but the firm who employed him were hard to deal with, and -refused to let him draw in advance of his salary. Toby was not well -off, so he could not apply to him for aid, besides which that young -man was already on his way to the Antipodes; so Mr. Maxwell found -himself with comparatively little money in the bank and a difficult -case to solve without funds. - -Luckily Archie was of a very sanguine nature, and hopeful in a -Micawberish sense of "something turning up;" so making up his mind to -at all events make a start in the affair, he collected all the -newspaper reports of the inquest, and made himself thoroughly -acquainted with the ins and outs of the baronet's death. - -It appeared, from the evidence of the butler, that on the night of the -murder Sir Rupert had informed him that he would be sitting up late in -his study, looking over some papers, and that the household could go -to bed at their usual time. Sir Rupert appeared cheerful, but somewhat -preoccupied, and went into his study shortly after dinner. The butler, -according to his instructions, locked up all the house, leaving the -hall lamp burning for Sir Rupert to put out, and then, with the rest -of the servants, retired to rest. He heard no pistol-shot, no sounds -of any one being in the house, and knew nothing about the terrible -event which had taken place until the next morning. - -The housemaid stated that she had entered the study, according to her -usual custom, to put it to rights, and had there found the body of her -master lying half in and half out of the French window, which was -open. Her shriek of terror brought her fellow-servants to the spot, -and the police were sent for but she knew nothing more. - -Miss Pethram deposed that her father had said good-night to her -shortly after dinner, and had retired to his study to attend to some -business. She remained in the drawing-room for some time with Mr. -Dombrain, her father's solicitor, who was then staying in the house, -and retired to bed about nine o'clock, as she had a bad headache. She -had heard no pistol-shot during the night There was nothing in her -father's demeanour that led her to think he contemplated suicide. - -Mr. Dombrain, the dead man's solicitor, said that he had come down to -Thornstream in order to witness the signing of Sir Rupert's will. The -signing took place in the afternoon, and at night the baronet went to -his study to look over some papers. He (witness) offered to accompany -him, but Sir Rupert refused, as he said it was not necessary. Miss -Pethram retired to bed about nine o'clock, and as he was left alone, -he also retired half an hour afterwards. Sir Rupert never gave him the -least idea that he contemplated suicide--in fact, on the night of the -murder he seemed very cheerful. Witness was a very heavy sleeper, but -he certainly had heard no pistol-shot during the night, and it was -only next morning that he learned about the crime. - -Mrs. Belswin, chaperon to Miss Pethram, gave her evidence, which was -rather important, as she was the last person who saw Sir Rupert alive. -She had been engaged when Sir Rupert was in New Zealand, and on his -arrival had gone up to London on business. She only returned on the -day when the crime was committed, and went to see Sir Rupert in his -study between eight and nine o'clock. She only had a short interview -with him, as they had nothing particular to talk about, and had gone -up to her room shortly after nine o'clock. Knowing that Miss Pethram -had retired with a bad headache, she did not disturb her, but went -straight to bed. Some of the servants might have noticed her going -upstairs to her room; she did not know. Sir Rupert was a complete -stranger to her. He seemed well and cheerful; certainly the idea of -suicide never crossed her mind for a moment. She heard no sounds of a -struggle nor any pistol-shot, and knew nothing of the committal of the -crime until next morning. - -The doctor's evidence was to the effect that the deceased had been -shot somewhere between ten and eleven o'clock at night. The bullet, -penetrating the right eye, had entered the brain, causing death almost -instantaneously. From the slanting upward direction of the bullet from -the eye towards the back part of the head he would think the pistol or -gun had been fired from a low position. According to his idea, the -murderer had been crouching behind some shrubs on the terrace. Sir -Rupert came to the window, and, as the study was lighted, his form -would be clearly defined against the brilliant background. This was -the opportunity chosen by the assassin, who had fired from the -crouching position he occupied, so that the bullet had travelled -upwards and penetrated into the brain through the right eye. - -During the evidence of this witness the bullet was produced to the -Court, and afterwards the Coroner summed up. Going on the evidence -produced, the jury brought in a verdict of murder against some person -or persons unknown. In addition to this bold report of the case, there -was a short leader, which theorised a great deal, but ultimately came -to the conclusion that nothing could be done to unravel the mystery, -and (as usual) complimented the police on their vigilance, a -compliment wholly undeserved, as, from all appearances, the case had -been conducted in a singularly slip-slop fashion, utterly unworthy of -English justice. - -Being an engineer, Maxwell was consequently a mathematician, -therefore, having been trained in that exact science, he had a -singularly logical mind. Two and two, according to his way of looking -at things, made four, but in this instance he was doubtful as to -whether they did so. Everything in connection with the case was -wrapped in mystery, and there seemed to be no one on whom suspicion -could rest. All the people present in the house on the night in -question had given satisfactory accounts of their movements, except, -perhaps, Mrs. Belswin, and the only possible suspicion against her was -that she had been last in the company of the dead man. - -This was all very well, but the committal of a crime pre-supposes a -motive, and as Mrs. Belswin, according to her own account, was a -complete stranger to Sir Rupert, it would certainly be very foolish to -even hint such a thing against her. She had seen the baronet, spoken -to him for a few minutes, and then retired to bed. Nothing could be -simpler, and whosoever had a hand in the murder it was certainly not -Mrs. Belswin, so Archie dismissed this fancy as a foolish one. - -The curious part about the whole affair was that no one had heard any -report, and, as Sir Rupert had been shot the sound of the weapon -employed would certainly have been heard. Yet all present in the house -averred that they heard nothing; which was, to say the least, very -peculiar. - -Judging from the evidence of the doctor, Sir Rupert was shot from the -terrace, which argued that the assassin must have been a stranger to -the house. With this idea in his head, Maxwell wondered whether any -suspicious stranger had been about the neighbourhood at that time, and -made up his mind to inquire. Sir Rupert, from all accounts, was not a -loveable character, and, in fact, his conduct towards Maxwell had been -anything but courteous, so that he was just the kind of man to have -enemies. This being the case, what was more probable than that some -man or woman whom he had wronged had followed him to Thornstream and -revenged themselves by killing him. It was rather a wild idea, still -it seemed the only feasible one, so Maxwell made up his mind to go -down to Deswarth, ask the hospitality of the vicarage for a few days, -and make inquiries regarding what strangers had been to the village on -that fatal day. - -This was the conclusion he came to, but then the assertion of every -one that they had heard no shot was puzzling, and the more Maxwell -thought the more puzzled he became. - -Suddenly an idea struck him and he jumped to his feet. - -"I have it," he cried, "it was an air-gun." - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII. -WHAT MRS. BELK FOUND. - - - "Nothing appears, - All is concealed; - Chance interferes, - All is revealed." - - -It was a great idea, and one which had never entered the brains of the -detectives employed in the case, so Maxwell looked upon it as an -earnest of success. He told no one about it, not even Mrs. Belswin, -nor Kaituna; but informing them that he was called out of town for a -few days on business, made his preparations for going to Deswarth, and -finding out all particulars regarding the case which had not come to -light at the inquest. - -Then Chance interfered. - -On the morning of his departure he was having breakfast at his rooms, -intending to catch the eleven train to Deswarth, when his departure -was postponed indefinitely by the appearance of a visitor. - -And the visitor was Mrs. Belk. - -She sent up her name to Archie, who told the servant to admit her, -wondering on what errand she had come--never for a moment thinking -that she could have anything to do with the Deswarth tragedy. - -Mrs. Belk entered, neatly dressed in her widow's garb, with her mean -evil face looking smug and placid under the white frill of her widow's -cap. On seeing Archie she curtsied in an old-fashioned way, and, with -the natural deference of the lower orders, waited for him to speak -first. - -"You wish to see me," he said, looking at her in some surprise, for -such an odd figure had never before entered his chambers. - -Mrs. Belk, with another curtsey, signified that she did wish to see -him, and had come to London for that purpose. This reply having been -made, she shut her mouth with a snap, and waited, still giving no hint -of her errand. - -"Will you not be seated, Mrs.--Mrs.----" - -"Belk, sir," said the woman, seeing that Archie was at a loss, -"perhaps, sir, you may know my son, Samson Belk." - -"Oh, yes! the good-looking bailiff," replied Maxwell, carelessly. "Is -he your son?" - -"He is, sir," answered Mrs. Belk, her heart swelling with pride at -hearing the eulogy on her son's good looks. "He was bailiff to Sir -Rupert, but now he is bailiff to the new baronet, Sir Thomas Pethram." - -"Indeed. I'm very glad his prospects are so good," said Archie -politely, wondering what all this domestic history had to do with him. - -"His prospects ain't good, sir; and that's why I've come up to see -you." - -"But, my good woman, what can I do?" cried the young man in amazement. - -Mrs. Belk wriggled in her chair, sniffed significantly, and went on -talking apparently in a manner most irrelevant to the subject in hand. - -"Sir Thomas," she said, with snappy deliberation, "is a hard man. Sir -Rupert was hard, there's no denying, and my boy--who is proud--didn't -get on with being crushed. If Sir Rupert hadn't died he would have -left his service; but as he did die, and Sir Thomas asked him to stay -on--he knowing all the ins and outs of the place--he did so, thinking -Sir Thomas would be a better master." - -"And he was disappointed?" - -Mrs. Belk nodded her head emphatically. - -"You can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear," she said, -sententiously; "and that's what Sir Thomas is. A hard gentleman, sir, -who thinks my boy is a slave; so we are going to leave his service." - -"But, Mrs. Belk," observed Archie, rather puzzled, "what on earth has -all this got to do with me?" - -"I'm coming to that, sir," replied the woman, imperturbably; "me and -my boy wondered what we'd do when we left Sir Thomas; for situations, -Mr. Maxwell, are hard to get--especially for poor folks like us." - -Maxwell nodded an assent, and waited until she came to the reason of -her visit. - -"In the papers," pursued Mrs. Belk, with a faint smile of triumph on -her pale face, "me and my boy saw that strong men was being exhibited -in London, and all the gentry was mad on 'em." - -"Yes, I believe that is the case. This strong man craze is in all the -music-halls." - -"My son, sir, is called Samson, and he is as strong as a horse." - -"Yes, I know that," said Archie, with the cordial admiration of -physical strength which one Englishman feels for another. "He is -tremendously strong. I've seen him do some wonderful things. Well, and -your son proposes to come up to London and exhibit his strength." - -"Yes, sir," said Mrs. Belk, with a look of triumph; "he does, sir. -It's my idea." - -"I've no doubt it's a good one. While the craze lasts he may make -money; but after----" - -"I'll take care of the money, sir," answered Mrs. Belk, grimly. "He'll -make hay while the sun shines, and I'll take care when the sun doesn't -shine that we'll have something to live on." - -"Do you want me to help you in this, then?" - -"In a sort of way, sir; but not for nothing." - -Maxwell smiled. - -"Really, I don't know what you can do for me." - -"You wait, sir, and I'll tell. To git a start in London requires -money, and me and my son want fifty pounds to give us a start." - -"Indeed. I'm afraid I can't advance the money." - -"So you say now, sir; but when you know what fifty pounds 'ull buy, -perhaps you will." - -Archie's curiosity was now fully aroused, owing to the significance of -her words. There was evidently something important behind all this -apparently idle preamble, and he waited with some anxiety as to what -she was going to tell him. - -"You are engaged to Miss Pethram, sir, I'm told," said Mrs. Belk, -abruptly. - -"Yes, I am. What then?" replied Maxwell rather haughtily, not liking -his private affairs being mentioned by a complete stranger. - -Mrs. Belk bent forward in a mysterious manner, touched him on the -knee, then flung herself back in her chair with a searching look. - -"Has she found out who killed her father?" - -"Good God!" - -Maxwell jumped to his feet with an ejaculation, and, one hand grasping -the back of his chair, stood looking at the mean figure before him in -silent amazement. - -"What do you mean?" he demanded in a stifled voice. - -The woman carried an obtrusive black leather bag, of no small size, -with a metal clasp, and this she shook slowly at him as she replied to -his question. - -"In here," she said, in her monotonous voice--a voice that neither -rose nor fell, but kept on droning constantly in the same dreary -monotone--"in here I have something which may lead to the discovery of -the criminal." - -Maxwell gasped. Was chance going to reveal the secret which he had -been so afraid was a secret for ever? He had been about to go down to -Deswarth on an apparently hopeless quest, without anything to guide -him to a conclusion; and lo! at the very time when he was starting, -this woman appeared from the clouds with the asseveration that she -knew something which would be a sure guide to the revealing of the -mystery. - -"In that bag?" he said, mechanically, looking at it in a fascinated -fashion. "In that bag?" - -With a cry of relief he advanced and stretched out his hands eagerly. - -"Give it to me! What is it? Give it to me?" The woman put the bag -behind her back with a frown. - -"No," she answered, in the same passionless voice. "Nothing for -nothing. I have told you what I wanted. Give me fifty pounds, and you -shall have it." - -"But what is it?" - -"A clue to the man who committed the murder." - -"Give it to me at once!" - -"Certainly--when I get fifty pounds." Maxwell reflected. He was not a -rich man, and fifty pounds was a great consideration to him. Still, in -his search he would probably spend that amount, and by giving it to -this woman he would perhaps learn the name of the criminal at once, so -it would be better to save time by acceding to her demand, and thus -arrest the assassin before he had time to leave the country. Therefore -he made up his mind to give it to her, and secure the evidence she -said was in the bag; but first he tried to find out exactly what that -evidence was worth. - -"Do you know who committed the murder?" - -"No, I do not. I found something which I think belongs to him, and may -lead to his detection. You shall have it for fifty pounds." - -"Why do you come to me?" - -"You are engaged to Miss Pethram, and it is to your interest to find -out who killed her father. Besides, you will pay me money. If I went -to Sir Thomas or to Sir Rupert's solicitor, they would probably refuse -to give me a penny, and I want the money for my son." - -"If I give you a cheque for fifty pounds you will give me -this--this--whatever it is you have in your bag?" - -"I will; but I don't like cheques. I'd rather have the money in gold." - -"You mistrust me?" - -"I don't like cheques," reiterated Mrs. Belk, doggedly. - -Maxwell reflected a few moments, then made up his mind what to do, and -rang the bell. When the servant who attended to all the chambers in -the building entered, he handed him a cheque for fifty pounds, made -payable to bearer, and drawn on the Piccadilly Bank, a branch of which -was not far distant. - -"Take a hansom and cash this at once--gold. Will you be long?" - -"About ten minutes, sir." - -The servant departed, and Maxwell turned to Mrs. Belk, who observed -ail these doings with a satisfied smile. - -"You see I am treating you fairly," he said quietly; "and when the -messenger returns I will place those fifty pounds in your hands." - -"Very well, sir. In return I will give you what is in here," - -"I do not like this distrust!" cried Maxwell, angrily. - -"I am a country woman, sir; I know nothing of London ways." - -She was evidently obdurate, and there was silence for a few minutes. -Then Archie made another attempt to extract information from her. - -"Where did you find this--whatever it is?" - -"I will tell you, sir, when you have it in your hands." - -"Do you know to whom it belongs?" - -"No, sir." - -"It seems to me that I am paying a heavy price for what is of -comparatively little value." - -"I may be able to tell you something in addition to giving this to -you." - -"Likely to be of service in connection with it?" - -"Yes, I think so." - -"Humph! Is this clue which you have of value?" - -"To you, yes." - -"Of pecuniary value, I mean?" - -"Yes, it is valuable." - -"Then why did you not sell it instead of giving it to me for fifty -pounds?" - -"Sir," said Mrs. Belk, coldly, "I am an honest woman. The thing is not -mine to sell. Money obtained dishonestly brings no good luck, and as -this money is for my son, I do not wish it to be cursed." - -"The fifty pounds I now give you may be the price of a man's blood. -You are strangely scrupulous. You will not steal, but you will hang a -man." - -"If he is guilty he deserves to die. Credit rather than blame is mine -for handing him over to justice." - -Maxwell looked curiously at her. - -"You speak above your station in life." - -"Very probably," replied Mrs. Belk, indifferently. "I have had some -education." - -This strange dialogue was interrupted by the entrance of the servant, -who handed Maxwell fifty pounds in gold and then took his departure. -The young man placed the money on the table and motioned to Mrs. Belk. - -"Count it, please, and see if it is correct." - -Mrs. Belk eagerly advanced towards the table, and dividing the money -into tens, counted it rapidly. Having done so, she took a small canvas -bag out of her pocket and put the gold into it. - -"That is all right, sir," she said, with a sigh of relief, opening the -black bag. "You have behaved like a gentleman; I have the money I -want, and you have in exchange--this." - -"This" was a small diamond pin in the shape of a star, with eight -points, and Maxwell took it in his hand with a sensation that he had -seen it before. - -"Ah!" he said, thoughtfully, turning it over in his hands, "this is -the thing I have bought for my fifty pounds." - -"Yes, sir." - -"It is worth about twenty, I should say," said Maxwell, resuming his -seat. "But doubtless the story attached to it will render it more -valuable." - -"There is no story, sir," replied Mrs. Belk, who had placed the gold -in her obtrusive black bag. "Simply this: I found that on the terrace -of the Hall on the morning after the murder. It was lying close to the -window." - -"Indeed! And you think----" - -"I think that it was dropped by the man who murdered Sir Rupert." - -"How do you know it was a man?" - -"That is a gentleman's scarf-pin, sir." - -"Hah!" cried Maxwell, with a sudden start, "I know now where I saw -it." - -"You saw it, sir?" asked Mrs. Belk, eagerly. - -"Yes, on the scarf of the man I----never mind, I may be mistaken. Did -you tell your son you had found this?" - -"No, sir. I wished to surprise him with the money. I have told no one -except you." - -"I'm glad of that. Well, I think I have an idea; but surely he cannot -be guilty of the murder." - -"Who, sir?" - -Maxwell, who had risen to his feet, looked at her keenly. - -"Have you any idea of whom I am talking?" - -"None in the least, sir." - -The young man walked to the other end of the room, then retraced his -steps slowly. - -"Mrs. Belk," he said, after a pause, "do you know if there were any -strangers in Deswarth on the night of the murder?" - -"Only one, sir. A furriner at The Chequers, and he went away next -morning." - -"Do you think he knew Sir Rupert?" - -"I do not know, sir. All I know is that I found that scarf-pin near -where the murder was committed. If it belongs to the furriner, he -killed Sir Rupert." - -"What was he doing at Deswarth?" - -"I do not know, sir." - -"Humph! Well, say nothing about this to any one, Mrs. Belk. I will see -you again when I come down to Deswarth." - -"You are coming down to Deswarth, sir?" - -"Yes, to find out who killed Sir Rupert." - -"I think you'll find him in London, sir," said the woman, with a grim -smile, as she stood with her hand on the door. "Good-morning, sir." - -"Good-morning." - -Maxwell stood a long time looking at the pin. - -"Yes," he said aloud, "it certainly belongs to that man." - -He had seen it in the scarf of Ferrari in the morning he met Mrs. -Belswin at the Deswarth station. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX. -DANGER. - - - "Woman, this stranger - Knows not thy shame; - Yet there is danger - Hears he thy name. - - "Hide it, conceal it, - Heed not the cost; - Breathe it, reveal it, - And thou art lost." - - -The diamond scarf-pin had been found on the terrace of Thornstream by -Mrs. Belk, so the man to whom it belonged must have been there on the -night of the murder, and the owner thereof, according to Maxwell's -firm conviction--on the testimony of his own eyes--was none other than -the stranger who had been in the company of Mrs. Belswin at the -Deswarth station. The first thing, therefore, to be done was to find -out who this stranger was, and demand from him an explanation of his -presence at Thornstream on that fatal night. - -Maxwell, however, did not know this man whom he suspected of being a -murderer; he did not even know his name; but he could discover all -about him in two ways, one of which was doubtful, the other certain. - -The doubtful way: - -To go down to Deswarth and inquire from the landlord of The Chequers -the name, position, and business in the village of the man who had -stayed at the inn. This was doubtful in this way: that supposing the -stranger had come to Deswarth to commit this crime, he would naturally -give a false name to the landlord, so as to obviate the danger of -discovery, so Maxwell, with this idea in his head, plainly saw that -going down to Deswarth in order to interview the landlord would, in -all reasonable probability, be a waste of time. - -The certain way: - -To ask Mrs. Belswin the name of her companion, and the reason of his -coming to the village. Archie felt his old doubts about Mrs. Belswin -revive as he thought of the doubtful juxtaposition of this suspicious -character with the companion. Why had she gone to London at the time -of Sir Rupert's arrival? Why had she returned with a stranger, who had -been on the terrace on the night of the murder? And why had Sir -Rupert been murdered on the night of her return? Only one person could -answer all these inquiries, and that person was Mrs. Belswin. There -was certainly something very mysterious about her conduct; but -doubtless she would be able to give a satisfactory explanation; -otherwise---- A cold sweat broke out on Maxwell's brow as he thought -of the alternative. - -Suspense is always more terrible than the event itself, and Archie, -full of suspicion against Mrs. Belswin and the unknown foreigner, -tortured his mind to a frightful extent over the possibility of this -woman being concerned in the murder. If, however, she was innocent, -she would be able to exculpate herself from any complicity in the -affair; but if she was guilty it was terrible to think that she was -the daily and nightly companion of Kaituna. She had possibly killed -the father! If so she might also kill the daughter. Was she some one -whom Sir Rupert had wronged, and who thus avenged herself by the hand -of another. The idea was terrible, and Maxwell, filled with the agony -of uncertainty, determined to go at once to Mrs. Belswin and demand an -explanation. - -He made a point of calling that afternoon, and was lucky enough to -find Mrs. Belswin alone, as Kaituna had gone out on a shopping -excursion with Mrs. Valpy, who had come up to town the previous day. -Mrs. Belswin informed the young man of this, and invited him to wait -until Kaituna returned at the hour of five o'clock. - -"Meanwhile," she said, ringing the bell, "sit down, and we will have -some tea." - -Maxwell mechanically took a seat and glanced at the clock, the hands -of which pointed to four. This would give him a full hour to speak to -Mrs. Belswin before the arrival of Kaituna, and in that time he -expected to learn all he desired to know. - -The lady seemed preoccupied, and as Maxwell was racking his brains to -invent some leading question, neither of them spoke for a few minutes. -The servant brought in the tea, and while Mrs. Belswin busied herself -with the cups, she for the first time noticed the unusual silence of -the young man. - -"Well, Mr. Maxwell," she said, handing him his tea, with a smile, -"speech, I understand, was given to us to conceal our thoughts. You, I -perceive, conceal them without speaking." - -"I have come to see you on a matter of business," said Archie, -abruptly putting down his cup on a small table near at hand. - -The paleness of his face, the abruptness of his speech, the agitation -of his manner, at once put Mrs. Belswin on her guard, and a thrill of -fear shot through her heart--fear lest he should have discovered -anything about her past life which would be fatal to her living with -Kaituna. Her iron stoicism, however, prevailed, and she awaited with -outward calm, but inward perturbation, his next words. - -"Mrs. Belswin," he said, slowly bending towards her, "do you know this -diamond pin?" - -"Oh!" muttered Mrs. Belswin under her breath, recognising it at once, -"more misfortune." - -"What do you say?" - -"Before I answer your question, Mr. Maxwell," she observed, fixing her -keen eyes on his face, "I wish to know why you put it." - -"Certainly, that is only fair. Do you remember the day I met you at -the Deswarth railway station?" - -"Yes!" - -"There was a stranger with you?" - -"A stranger?" - -"Pray do not evade the question," said Maxwell, in an annoyed tone; "I -mean the dark gentleman whom you sent off to see about your -portmanteau, and who accompanied you from town." - -"How do you know he accompanied me from town?" - -"I saw you both leave a first-class carriage together." - -"That proves nothing. Travelling in the same carriage does not prove -that he accompanied me from town." - -"But he looked after your luggage at your request!" - -"Yes! he did so, certainly, but what does that prove?" - -"Simply this, that you know the gentleman." - -Mrs. Belswin would have liked to deny this, as she saw from the -production of the diamond pin, and the mention of Ferrari, that -Maxwell knew something; but she was so afraid, lest, failing her, he -should ask Kaituna, and so possibly discover more than she wished, -that she answered him frankly. - -"Yes, I do know the gentleman." - -"Ah! and you know his name?" - -"Yes! His name is--but why do you want to know?" - -"Because he wore this diamond pin on the day I saw him with you, and -this diamond pin----" - -"Yes! yes!" cried Mrs. Belswin, breathlessly, clasping her hands. - -"--Was found on the terrace of Thornstream the morning after the -murder." - -The woman sprang to her feet, with a cry. - -"Ferrari! impossible." - -"Is his name Ferrari?" - -"Yes! No! that is, Mr. Maxwell," she cried, seizing the young man by -the lappet of his coat "What do you mean? what do you suspect?" - -"I mean that this diamond pin belongs to Ferrari, whom you have just -named. I suspect that he murdered Sir Rupert Pethram." - -Mrs. Belswin uttered a cry of terror. - -"No! no! It cannot be." - -"Then let him prove his innocence." - -"Prove his innocence?" - -"Yes!" said Maxwell, with an air of determination. "I have made up my -mind to bring the murderer of Sir Rupert Pethram to justice. -Appearances are dead against this man, and I intend to put the matter -in the hands of the police." - -"You will never find him." - -Maxwell bounded from his seat, and crossing rapidly to Mrs. Belswin, -seized her wrist. - -"Tell me," he said, imperiously, "have you any reason for wishing this -man to escape?" - -"I!" she murmured, evasively; "I wish him to escape?" - -"Yes! To all appearances he is your friend. He comes down with you to -Deswarth. A jewel belonging to him is found at the window of a room. -In that room a man is found dead. What does it all mean?" - -"Wait!" cried the woman, wrenching herself from his grasp. "Wait; I -must think." - -Maxwell obeyed, and returned to his seat with a cloud on his brow, for -the complicity of Mrs. Belswin in the affair now began to assume -gigantic proportions. - -On her part, Mrs. Belswin saw at a glance the dangers by which she was -environed, and her active brain was already at work seeking some plan -by which she could extricate herself. She already saw that Maxwell -suspected her, and if he did so she trembled lest he should -communicate his suspicions to her daughter. With her hands pressed to -her burning face, she rapidly glanced at the aspect of affairs in -order to know how to act towards this young man, whose attitude -towards her was undeniably hostile. - -If she refused to tell him anything he would put the matter into the -hands of the police, and they would immediately arrest Ferrari. In -doing so they would have no difficulty, as he, being a singer, was -easily to be found, and appearances were sufficiently strong against -him to authorise the granting of a warrant for his arrest. If Ferrari -were arrested he would certainly, urged by a fear of the law, reveal -all about her in his examination, and Kaituna would then learn that -Mrs. Belswin, the companion, was her mother. If she did so, Mrs. -Belswin trembled for the result of such a discovery, so at once she -made up her mind to promise Maxwell an interview with Ferrari, and -meanwhile warn the Italian of his peril. By this means she hoped that, -if guilty, Ferrari would at once fly from England; or, if innocent, he -would be able to exculpate himself without incriminating her, so that -in either case she would still preserve the secret of her true -relationship to Kaituna. - -"Mr. Maxwell," she said at length, suppressing her agitation, "I will -tell you all I know, and then you can judge for yourself." - -"Thank you, Mrs. Belswin," replied Maxwell, in a tone of relief. "I -think that will be the best way, as I am anxious to avoid the -interference of the police." - -"And why, sir," demanded Mrs. Belswin, with a piercing glance. - -The young man made no reply, but looked confused, upon which the woman -laughed bitterly. - -"Ah, I see," she said with scorn; "you think that I, a stranger to the -late Sir Rupert, am implicated in his death." - -"I have not said so, madam," murmured the young man, hastily. - -"I swear before God," cried Mrs. Belswin, rising from her seat and -raising her right hand--"I swear before God that I know nothing of the -death of this man." - -"But Ferrari----" - -"I believe Ferrari to be innocent. Appearances are against him, it is -true, but that does not render him guilty. Listen, Mr. Maxwell. -Stephano Ferrari is a friend of mine, for I met him in America. Before -I came to England I was an opera-singer, and he was singing with me in -the same company. We are engaged to be married." - -"You?" - -"Yes. I wanted to rest my voice, and as I had but little money I -became companion to Miss Pethram. You know whether I have been a good -friend to her or not." - -"You have been a good friend, certainly." - -"My duties kept me near Miss Pethram, so I saw Ferrari but rarely, and -as he is devoted to me, naturally he missed my society. At the time I -left Deswarth, I came to London to see about my marriage, and on my -return--which was on a Sunday--Ferrari came down with me, as he was -not singing that night. Is there anything strange in this?" - -"No; it seems quite natural," replied Maxwell, after a pause. "I would -act the same way towards Kaituna." - -"Signor Ferrari," resumed Mrs. Belswin, coldly, "stayed that night at -The Chequers, and returned, I believe, next morning to town. I did not -see him, as, owing to the terrible death of Sir Rupert, I had to stay -with Kaituna. I do not know how he spent the night. I do not know at -what hour he returned in the morning." - -"But this scarf-pin?" - -"It is certainly his; but what of that? He may have come to -Thornstream to see me, and lost it on the terrace." - -"If so, why did he not see you?" - -"I do not know. I know nothing beyond what I have told you; but set -your mind at rest. Come here to-morrow morning at eleven o'clock, and -I will take you to Signor Ferrari, who will doubtless be able to -explain all to your satisfaction." - -"You will?" - -"Yes; at eleven to-morrow. I am sure he is innocent." - -"I hope so," said Maxwell, heartily, "if only for your sake." - -"You are still suspicious, I see," replied Mrs. Belswin, with a faint -smile. "Well, it is only natural, and I hope your suspicions will be -dispelled by Signor Ferrari's explanation. But now I must ask you to -permit me to retire, as all this exciting talk has given me a -headache. If, however, you will wait for Kaituna----" - -"Not to-night, thank you," said Maxwell, hastily taking his hat and -stick. "I'm too disturbed to see her. Good-bye; I rely on your -promise. To-morrow at eleven." - -"At eleven I will wait you," answered Mrs. Belswin, truthfully; "so at -present good-bye, and don't think worse of me than you can help." - -Maxwell said nothing, but, bowing politely, left the room, while Mrs. -Belswin, annoyed at his silence, stood frowning angrily. - -"He still suspects," she muttered, ringing the bell. "Ferrari must put -an end to his suspicions--if he can." - -The servant entered the room. - -"A hansom at once!" - -She put on her cloak and bonnet and returned to the sitting-room to -wait for the cab. - -"I'm in terrible danger," she said pulling on her gloves--"terrible -danger. One false step, and all may be known. Ferrari is my only hope. -Can he be guilty? Appearances are against him. If he is a murderer let -him suffer, as long as he keeps silence." - -"The cab, ma'am." - -Mrs. Belswin went downstairs. - -"I don't care what happens," she cried, when driving away, "as long as -I keep my child." - - - - -CHAPTER XXX. -A CLEVER DEFENCE. - - - "You say 'twas I! Indeed, sir, 'tis not so; - My hands are innocent of this man's blood. - Nay, never fear! I pardon what you say; - Your judgment is misled by false report. - Why! if you heed the idle tongues that wag, - There's not an honest man would 'scape the law; - For every act bears two interpretations-- - One good, one bad--so that our enemies - Use that which fits in best with their desires, - As evil witness 'gainst our true intents." - - -There is no doubt that peril sharpens the wits of all, therefore Mrs. -Belswin, in her interview with the Italian, proved herself such an -able diplomatist, that after some difficulty she obtained what she -wanted. According, therefore, to the arrangement she made with -Ferrari, he was to tell Maxwell as much as possible of his doings at -Deswarth without mentioning the name of Mrs. Belswin. - -On first hearing of Maxwell's accusation, Ferrari wanted to fly, as he -plainly said it would be difficult for him to defend himself against -such a charge, although he swore on the crucifix that he was perfectly -innocent. Mrs. Belswin dissuaded him from this course, as she pointed -out, that if he acknowledged the truth of the accusation by flight, -Maxwell would immediately inform the police, and he would be arrested -before he could leave England. On the contrary, however, if he faced -the charge boldly, and explained the presence of the diamond scarf-pin -on the terrace to the satisfaction of the young man, he would not only -by doing so clear his own character, but might possibly lead to the -capture of the true criminal. - -Ferrari agreed, therefore, to grant the interview desired by Maxwell, -and tell the truth without betraying Mrs. Belswin's true position -towards the dead man in any way; but during this very curious -conversation, both the man and the woman asked each other the same -question, "Are you guilty?" Mrs. Belswin solemnly swore that she was -innocent, and told Ferrari the same story as she had told Dombrain -concerning her doings on that night. This explanation satisfied the -Italian, and then in response to Mrs. Belswin's question as to his -innocence, he gave an account of how he had passed the night. - -"After you departed, carissima," he said, volubly, "I went to seek -you, but the time was darkness. Cospetto! how black. I knew not the -villaggio, so I returned to the osteria in one few minutes." - -"Were you in the hotel before eleven?" demanded Mrs. Belswin, -artfully. - -"Cara mia, you fled at ten hours. I went. I came back at ten and ten. -So I could not have killed Il Marito." - -Mrs. Belswin believed this story, as had he been out longer the -landlord would certainly have talked about it, and Ferrari would have -been arrested at once on suspicion. As it was she felt quite satisfied -that he was innocent; and having thus come to a complete understanding -with him, she departed. - -Mrs. Belswin, therefore, declared that she was innocent. - -Ferrari also declared his innocence. - -If this were the case who was guilty? - -Ah! that was to be revealed the next day to Archie Maxwell. - -True to his promise the young man called for Mrs. Belswin at eleven -o'clock the following morning; and after a short interview with -Kaituna, to whom he talked on the most indifferent subjects, he -departed with the companion. Mrs. Belswin was fearfully pale, as all -her future depended upon the caution observed by Ferrari; and she was -afraid lest, carried away by his impulsive southern nature, the -Italian should reveal more than was desirable to Maxwell. She was not -afraid of being accused of the crime, as Dombrain alone could give -evidence as to her being in the room after the murder; and she had a -perfect understanding with him; but she was terribly afraid of -Maxwell's finding out her true relationship to Kaituna, in which case -she would certainly lose the companionship of her child, to retain -which she had fought so hard. - -Maxwell was also somewhat preoccupied, as in spite of his desire to -think the best of Mrs. Belswin, all her conduct, her hesitations, her -equivocations, appeared so mysterious that he was forced to believe -that she knew more than she chose to tell. Her conduct, however, in -conducting him to a personal interview with Ferrari, was one argument -in her favour, for it never for a moment struck this simple-minded -young man that she had in any way prepared the ground beforehand. -Perfectly honest and straightforward in himself, Maxwell foolishly -supposed all other human beings to possess the same desirable -qualities; and, in the hands of two practised diplomatists, like the -Italian and Mrs. Belswin, he could not possibly hold his own. His life -had always been a perfectly open one, and although he was not rich, he -had never been put to any shifts for money in any way, consequently -his wits had grown somewhat rusty from want of exercise. Mrs. Belswin -and her friend, however, had led a reckless Bohemian existence, which -called for craft, courage, coolness and dexterity, in a very high -degree; therefore they were thoroughly competent in dealing with a -delicate affair like the present, which required subtle management. -Still, a blundering blue-bottle often breaks the web spun by the -craftiest spider; so Mrs. Belswin feared lest the straightforward -honesty of the young man should rush through all her careful schemes, -and by sheer boldness arrive at the truth. - -On their arrival at Ferrari's chambers he was already waiting for -them, and Mrs. Belswin having introduced him to Archie, the three sat -down to talk. It was a fencing match, and the third fencer was -Maxwell, who not only had two opponents against him, but those same -opponents were gifted with powers of attack and parry of which he was -completely ignorant. - -"You speak English, I see," said Archie to Ferrari, after the first -greetings had passed. - -"Certainly, signor," replied the Italian, showing his white teeth. "I -have been long from Italy? Oh, yes. The estates of America." - -"Where I had the pleasure of meeting Signor Ferrari," observed Mrs. -Belswin, ceremoniously. - -At this the signor bowed, but made no remark, so Maxwell, seeing that -he would not commit himself to speech unless questioned, began at once -on the main object of the interview. - -"Mrs. Belswin, I presume, told you I wished to see you, Signor -Ferrari?" - -The Italian bowed. - -"About an article of jewellery belonging to you?" - -Ferrari bowed again. - -"Which was found on the terrace at Thornstream, the residence of the -late Sir Rupert Pethram?" - -The signor bowed for the third time and Maxwell, hot-blooded in all -things, began to lose his temper at this persistent silence. - -"Well, sir," he said, sharply, "perhaps you will be kind enough to -inform me how this scarf-pin came to be on the terrace in question." - -"One moment," said Ferrari, politely lifting his hand. "Will you -kindly tell me who found what you have?" - -Maxwell hesitated a moment, but seeing no reason why he should conceal -the part Mrs. Belk had taken in the affair, spoke out boldly. - -"A woman you don't know--Mrs. Belk." - -"Dio!" - -"Great Heavens!" - -These ejaculations proceeded, the first from Ferrari, the second from -Mrs. Belswin, and in hearing them Maxwell looked suspiciously from the -one to the other. - -"You seem surprised." - -"So will you be surprised," said Mrs. Belswin, gloomily, "when you -hear what the signor has to tell you." - -"I am at Signor Ferrari's service." - -"Per Bacco! it is most strange," cried Ferrari, throwing himself back -on his sky-blue sofa. "Alfieri himself could have thought nothing so -terrible." - -"The story, sir, the story." - -"Eh, signor, I excite your wonder," said the Italian, equably. "Is it -not so? Dio, I myself am lost in fear. Signor, I will tell all." - -Maxwell bit his nether lip with impatience at the leisurely way in -which Ferrari was acting, as he saw from the agitation of Mrs. Belswin -that the name of the woman who had found the scarf-pin moved her -powerfully. - -"Signor," said Ferrari, gracefully, "I departed with the signora here -to the villagio on the day you saw me. Myself I waited at the osteria -you know of, I doubt not. The signora departed to the casa of Il----" - -"Of Sir Rupert," interrupted Mrs. Belswin, quickly. - -"Grazia, signora. To the casa of Seer Ruperts. I am alone, and I weary -of being myself at the osteria. See, then, signor, I take a leetle -walk for amusement. I come to the ground of Seer Ruperts, and there I -meet a galantuomo, handsome as the Apollo." - -"Samson Belk?" - -"Yes, the signora tells me that is his name. Well, this large one -orders me away from the place. I say 'no,' and he would fight me--the -box, signor, you understand. I am not afraid, and I tell him I am not -afraid. Then he says, 'I will put you in prison because you are on the -estate of Seer Ruperts.' At this I fear. I know not the English laws, -so I say, 'Addio, I will go,' but he, signor, answers, 'Not so.' Then -what am I to do? I cannot fight that large man; I have not the box. I -do not know the English laws, and he may truly place me in prison for -being on the grounds of Seer Ruperts. Then, signor, I think, 'Aha, the -money!' but not he refuses the money. Again I say, 'Signor, I will -give you my pin of diamonds if you let me depart.' He says, 'Alright.' -I give him the pin of diamonds. I go away; and that, signor, is all I -am informed of." - -"But, signor," cried Maxwell, jumping to his feet in a state of -uncontrollable agitation, "by this story the diamond pin was in the -possession of Belk." - -"Cospetto! I believe so!" - -"And Belk must have lost it on the terrace." - -"Doubtless, signor." - -"Great heavens!" said Archie, violently, "his own mother found it. If -he committed the crime he is betrayed to the law by his own mother." - -"Through ignorance," interposed Mrs. Belswin, quickly. - -"Nevertheless it hands her son over to justice. Oh, it's horrible! -it's horrible!" and the young man covered his face with his hands. - -"I regret this sorrow, signor," said Ferrari, composedly. "Dio, it is -a tragedy like Lucrezia Borgia. But I have told you the truth." - -"Yes, yes!" muttered Maxwell, resuming his seat; "you could not make -up such a horrible thing." - -"As to myself, signor," resumed Ferrari, quietly, "if you think a -doubt of me, the man of the osteria will tell you I was in the casa on -that night." - -"You can prove an alibi?" - -"But I do not understand, signor," said the Italian, in a perplexed -tone, looking inquiringly at Mrs. Belswin. - -"Oh yes, he can prove an alibi," said that lady, quickly. "The -landlord of The Chequers can give evidence as to his being in the -house all night." - -"I did take a leetle walk." - -"A walk!" ejaculated Maxwell, lifting his head. - -"But I returned at ten hours," finished Ferrari, triumphantly. "No, -signor, I have nothing to do with this death. I can swear it to your -police. The man I spoke to had my diamond. It is found on the terrace. -Ebbene! He alone can have lost it there." - -"What motive could Belk have for killing Sir Rupert?" muttered Maxwell -to himself. - -"Eh, who knows?" - -Mrs. Belswin said nothing. Her eyes were cast down, and she was -tapping the ground nervously with her foot. The fact is she was in a -state of considerable trepidation, as she fancied she knew the motive -Belk had in killing Sir Rupert--a motive of which all but herself were -ignorant. Belk loved her. He was in intelligence little raised above -the brute of the fields; so if he had overheard the interview between -herself and Sir Rupert, and seen how ignominiously she was treated, he -might have--but no, it was too horrible; and with a cry she covered -her face with her hands. - -"What is the matter, Mrs. Belswin?" asked Maxwell, looking at her -quickly. - -Mrs. Belswin at once told a lie. - -"It's so horrible to think of a mother being the means of her son's -death." - -"We don't know if he is guilty yet." - -"Then how can he explain his presence on the terrace on that night?" - -"His presence there does not mean that he committed the crime. He may -be able to explain as well as Signor Ferrari." - -"You doubt me, signor," cried Ferrari, wrathfully, starting to his -feet. - -"I have not said so." - -"But you think. Dio, I am not blind. Well, if you doubt, bring me to -this man, signor. I will make him tell all to you before me." - -"Will you, then, come down to Deswarth with me on Sunday?" - -"That is to-morrow! eh! yes, signor, I will come." - -"And I too, Mr. Maxwell." - -"You, Mrs. Belswin?" - -"Yes; I cannot believe this horrible thing of that poor young man," -said Mrs. Belswin, hurriedly. "I will also come. Do you intend to have -Belk arrested on Sunday?" - -"No!" cried Maxwell, vehemently. "I want to hear what he has to say -first." - -"I'm afraid your nature is too soft for a detective, Mr. Maxwell," -said Mrs. Belswin cruelly. - -"Do you think so," he answered angrily. "No! But look, Mrs. Belswin, -at the horrible position of the case. A mother betrays unconsciously -to death the son whom she adores. Oh! it's terrible." - -"He may be innocent." - -"Per Bacco, I hope so," cried Ferrari, anxiously. "I myself think it -is too much a tragedy." - -"I will not speak to the police," said Maxwell, taking up his hat. "We -three will go to Deswarth together and confront this man. If he is -innocent so much the better. If he is guilty----" - -"Well?" asked Mrs. Belswin, seeing him pause. - -"I will do nothing!" - -"Nothing?" - -"No. If I took advantage of what Mrs. Belk told me to hang her son, I -should never have a moment's peace for the rest of my life!" - -"But Kaituna?" - -"She will think the same as I do," said Maxwell, quickly. "And you, -Mrs. Belswin--surely you would not counsel otherwise?" - -Mrs. Belswin looked heavenward with a look of almost sublime pity on -her strongly marked face. - -"No; I am a mother, and I know how a mother feels for her only child." - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI. -A TRAGIC SITUATION. - - - "A deed's to be done. There is sin in the doing. - Oh, see how the mother her child is pursuing! - She smites him unknowing. Oh, mother, blind mother, - Thy son thou hast slain--not the son of another! - The deed thou hast done bodes a life-time of rueing; - Thy son thou hast slaughtered, as Cain did his brother!" - - -It was on Friday morning that Mrs. Belk had her fatal interview with -Maxwell--fatal indeed to her son, to benefit whom that same interview -had been sought for. Had she not been of such a secretive disposition -she would have told Samson of the finding of the jewel and how she -intended to obtain money thereon as a clue to the assassin of Sir -Rupert, in which case he would doubtless have prevented her doing so. - -Anxious, however, to surprise Samson with a piece of good news, she -had refrained from taking him into her confidence, and thus -inadvertently placed him in a situation of extreme peril. Ignorant of -this, however, she left Maxwell with the fifty pounds in her purse and -joy in her heart, thinking she could now give her son a chance of -making money by his physical strength. Determined to see for herself -what rivals he would have in the event of his entering the arena as "a -strong man," on Friday night she went to Totahoop's Music Hall, where -"The New Milo" was exhibiting his world renowned feats of strength. -After witnessing his performance, she was satisfied that her son had -nothing to fear in the way of comparison, and on Saturday night went -to a rival variety entertainment to see "The Modern Hercules." This -gentleman, in Mrs. Belk's opinion proved equally disappointing; so the -next day, which was Sunday, she departed for Deswarth with the full -conviction that her son, aided by the fifty pounds obtained from -Maxwell, would only have to appear before a London audience to easily -distance both the Milo and the Hercules. - -She went down by the morning train, but on arriving at her cottage -found that Samson had gone to a town some distance away on an errand -for Sir Thomas, his new master, and would not be back again until the -afternoon. Under these circumstances she was forced to curb her -impatience and wait some hours before she could reveal the good news -to her son. - -Meanwhile, as fate was thus delaying the warning to Samson which such -a revelation would have brought about, Archie Maxwell, accompanied by -Mrs. Belswin and her Italian friend, had arrived at The Chequers, from -whence they intended to go to Belk's cottage and demand an explanation -from him as to the discovery of the scarf-pin on the terrace at -Thornstream. Confronted with the landlord of The Chequers, Signor -Ferrari had no difficulty in proving to Maxwell that he was in the -house at ten o'clock on that fatal night, and as the doctor at the -inquest had asserted that Sir Rupert had been shot shortly before -eleven, Maxwell was forced to believe by this circumstantial evidence -that Ferrari was innocent of the crime. Mrs. Belswin had also recalled -to the young man's mind her evidence at the inquest, so he could not -possibly suspect her in any way, therefore to all appearances Belk was -the only person to whom suspicion pointed in any strong degree. This -being the case, after the interview with the landlord of The Chequers, -Mr. Maxwell and his two friends set off to Belk's cottage, where Mrs. -Belk was now impatiently awaiting the arrival of her son. - -It seemed to Mrs. Belswin, superstitious as she was in the highest -degree, that Fortune was dead against her in every way. Firstly, she -had been beaten on every point by Silas Oates; secondly, it was only -by the merest chance that she had been able to conceal her identity -from Maxwell, in the matter of his accusation against Ferrari, and now -she was afraid of Samson Belk. Afraid, because the finding of the -scarf-pin proved conclusively that he was on the terrace on that -night, in which case he might have overheard her interview with Sir -Rupert. If this was the case, in order to save himself he would -certainly tell Archie all he knew, and she would be lost. There was no -time to see and warn him as she had done Ferrari, so she walked on to -the cottage with a set smile on her face and a deadly fear in her -heart. - -On their arrival, Mrs. Belk opened the door, and was very much -surprised at such an invasion. However, she said nothing, but, -standing in her doorway, waited for an explanation of their visit. - -"Is your son at home, Mrs. Belk," asked Maxwell, abruptly. - -"No, sir," replied Mrs. Belk, dropping a curtsey, "but I'm expecting -him every minute." - -"Oh, in that case we'll wait." - -"Yes, sir, certainly!" - -Mrs. Belk moved unwillingly on one side, as she was in a state of -considerable mystification as to the reason of Mr. Maxwell's -unexpected arrival; and they all entered the cottage. The little woman -gave them seats, and then stood waiting to hear what they had to say. -Maxwell's business, however, was with Samson Belk, and not with his -mother, so he preserved a masterly silence, in order to give her no -opportunity of finding out his errand, and perhaps, by a look, putting -her son on his guard. - -"I hope nothing is wrong about the money, sir," said Mrs. Belk, after -a long pause. - -"No! that is all right." - -"Have you found out anything, sir?" - -"You mean about the scarf-pin?" said Maxwell, evasively. - -"Yes, sir." - -"Mr. Maxwell has found out the owner of it," interposed Mrs. Belswin, -coldly. - -"I am the owner," said Ferrari, complacently. - -"You?" cried Mrs. Belk, with a sudden flush on her face; "you, sir?" - -"Even I, signora!" - -Mrs. Belk felt quite taken back. She was quite sure that the owner of -the scarf-pin had killed Sir Rupert, yet, here he was, calmly -acknowledging that it belonged to him, which he certainly would not do -if he were guilty. The little woman looked from Ferrari to Maxwell, -from Maxwell to Mrs. Belswin; and saw in their eyes the same -expression---a look of pity. A sudden thrill of fear shot through her -heart, and she turned towards Maxwell with a cry of alarm. - -"Sir! Sir!" she stammered, nervously, "what does this mean?--why do -you come here?" - -"We want to see your son, Mrs. Belk." - -"My son, sir? Is anything wrong? Oh, tell me, sir, Samson has been -doing nothing wrong?" - -None of the three persons present answered her, so filled were their -hearts with pity for her coming agony. - -"Is it anything to do with the diamond, sir?" - -"Yes." - -"Oh!" cried Mrs. Belk, with an expression of relief on her face, -"perhaps you think my son stole it?" - -"Your son," said Mrs. Belswin, quickly. "Did he have that scarf-pin in -his possession?" - -Mrs. Belk faced round fiercely. - -"No ma'am; he knows nothing about it." - -"Ebbene," murmured the Italian; "we shall see." - -"What do you say, sir?" - -"I say," replied Ferrari, coolly, "that the scarf-pin was mine, and I -gave it to--to--your son." - -"To my son," shrieked Mrs. Belk, her pale face growing yet paler; "but -I found the diamond on the terrace." - -"Per Bacco! Who loses finds." - -Mrs. Belk kept silent for a moment, overwhelmed by the thought of the -perilous position in which she had placed her son, for in a single -instant she saw all; then, staggering against the wall, she gave a cry -which was scarcely human in its agony. - -Scarcely had it died away, when hurried footsteps were heard, and the -door was dashed open to admit Samson Belk, with a look of astonishment -on his face. - -"Mother! what is the matter? Mrs. Belswin?" - -"Yes!" said Mrs. Belswin, advancing a step, "we have come----" - -The mother saw the movement, and with a shriek of jealous rage, darted -between them, and flung herself into her son's arms. - -"Yes, my son, yes!" she cried, convulsively; "they have come to kill -you! to hang you!" - -"Mother!" - -"They say you killed the master." - -"It's a lie!" - -Samson Belk placed his mother in a chair, where she sat in a -half-fainting condition, and turned fiercely towards the two men, like -a lion at bay. - -"Now then," he said--his habitually slow voice, sharp and -quick--"what's all this?" - -Maxwell held out his hand, and in the palm of it lay the diamond -scarf-pin. - -"Do you know this?" he demanded, slowly. - -Belk gave a mighty laugh of scorn. - -"Know it? Yes, I know it. 'Tis the diamond I got from yonder chap." - -"You acknowledge that he gave it to you, then?" - -"Of course! Why shouldn't I?" - -"Because I found it on the terrace, Samson," cried his mother, madly. - -"Well, what of that; I lost it there, mother!" - -"When did you lose it?" asked Maxwell, quickly. - -Belk thought a moment, and then started as the full meaning of this -interrogation flashed across his dull brain. - -"Eh! then you chaps say I killed Sir Rupert." - -"We do not say so," said Maxwell, emphatically; "we only say that this -diamond scarf-pin, which you acknowledge to have had in your -possession, was found near the window where the body was lying." - -"And that pin hangs me, sir?" - -"Not if you can account satisfactorily for its being there." - -"You ain't got the police, sir." - -"No!" - -"Samson! Samson!" wailed his mother, clinging to him, "say it was not -you killed the master!" - -"Quiet, mother!" said her son, replacing her in the chair, "I can tell -my own story." - -"You are innocent?" asked Mrs. Belswin, impulsively. - -"Innocent!" repeated Belk, with scorn, "if I wasn't I'd have been off -to the States by this time. Sit down, gentlemen: sit down, madam, I -can tell you the truth." - -All resumed their seats mechanically; but Belk leaned his mighty frame -against the wall and looked at them quietly. From Ferrari his eyes -wandered to Maxwell, and finally rested on Mrs. Belswin with a curious -expression, at which she turned pale. - -"My God!" she murmured, clasping her hands tightly, "what is he going -to say?" - -Belk guessed her thoughts, and reassured her at once. - -"My story's only about myself," he said, abruptly looking at her -again, upon which she thanked him with a silent look of gratitude, -although she felt a thrill of fear at the thought that perhaps he knew -her secret. - -"One word before you speak," said Maxwell, quietly. "As you know, I am -going to marry Miss Pethram, and I promised her to find out the -assassin of her father. Chance, in the person of your mother, placed -in my hands a clue which led me to believe that Signor Ferrari had -something to do with the crime----" - -"Cospetto! what honour." - -"Signor Ferrari, however," resumed Archie, quietly, "has proved his -innocence, and in order to do so has unintentionally made out a very -strong case against you, Mr. Belk. Whether you are guilty or not I do -not know; but, you see, I have not informed the police about anything -connected with the matter." - -"And why, sir?" - -"Because the clue was placed in my hands by your mother, and I would -not have it on my conscience, however guilty you may be, to take -advantage of the innocent betrayal of a son by his mother." - -Mrs. Belk sobbed violently at this, and Belk, with a sudden flush, -held out his hand, but drew it back at once. - -"No, sir," he said, bluffly, "I won't give you my hand yet, till -you've heard my story. I did get that diamond from the foreign gent as -he says. He was trespassing, and I could have made things hot for him, -but to get off he gave me the diamond." - -"Do you think that was right, seeing Signor Ferrari is a foreigner and -ignorant of English laws?" asked Maxwell. - -"I don't say it was right, sir," replied Belk with a queer look; "and -it was not altogether the trespass. There was something else I need -not tell you of that made me take his diamond." - -Mrs. Belswin darted a sudden look on both men, who were eyeing her -jealously, and flushed a deep red; but Maxwell was so interested in -Belk's story that he did not notice her perturbation, and signed to -him to continue. - -"Well, sir, I stuck the pin in my scarf careless like, as I was in a -hurry to go up to the Hall to see Sir Rupert." - -"What hour was this." - -"About four o'clock, sir. I went up to the Hall, and Sir Rupert, sir, -he was in his study; so instead of going in by the door, I went in by -the window." - -"So you first went along the terrace?" - -"Yes, sir! And as the pin was stuck in careless, I suppose it fell as -I went into the room by the window." - -"Not impossible!" said Maxwell, thoughtfully. - -"I saw Sir Rupert, took my orders, and then came home, sir, and didn't -go out again that night." - -"Eh!" cried Mrs. Belk, starting up, "no more you did, lad; I can swear -to that." - -"And so can Mr. Gelthrip, the parson, sir," said Belk, triumphantly. -"He called here in the evening, and I saw him. So you see, sir, as I -didn't go near the Hall until the next morning, I didn't have nought -to do with the killing." - -"No; certainly not." - -Maxwell heaved a sigh of relief at the turn things had taken, for if -both Mrs. Belk and the curate could prove that Samson had been at home -on that fatal night, the young man certainly could not be guilty. -Meanwhile, he wanted to get away and think the matter over; for what -with the story of Ferrari and the story of Belk, he was quite -bewildered. - -"So my Samson is innocent," cried Mrs. Belk, triumphantly. - -"Yes, and I'm glad to hear it," replied Maxwell, as he went out. -"Good-bye, Mrs. Belk, I'm pleased on your account, but sorry on my -own." - -"Ebbene! but who killed Il----I am talking of Seer Rupert," cried -Ferrari, putting on his hat. - -Belk shrugged his shoulders. - -"I don't know," he replied, nonchalantly; "the master had lots of -enemies, I reckon." - -"Belk," cried Maxwell, overhearing this, "come to The Chequers -to-night, I want to speak to you." - -"Very well, sir." - -"You are not coming up to town with us then, Mr. Maxwell?" said Mrs. -Belswin, who was lingering behind. - -"No! I wish to ask Belk some questions about Sir Rupert's enemies. -From what he says, it appears he had some, and Belk knows them." - -Maxwell and Ferrari both went down to the gate, and Mrs. Belswin was -left alone with Samson, the mother still being in the house. - -"Don't go," she said, in a low tone. - -"Oh, yes, I'll go," he replied in the same tone, "I tell nothing." - -"What?" she said, uneasily; "do you know anything?" - -Belk looked at her with his languid eyes, and stroked his golden beard -slowly. - -"I know what I know," he replied emphatically, and with this reply, -which roused all her suspicions, Mrs. Belswin was forced to be -content. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII. -NEWS FROM AUSTRALIA. - - - 'Neath the shining southern cross, - News of gain and news of loss, - Silver veining hidden rocks - Changes hourly shares and stocks: - By the magic power of shares, - Paupers turn to millionaires-- - Millionaires to paupers change; - Transformation swift and strange. - Genii, no, nor fairy kings - Could not do such wond'rous things - As are daily done by scores, - On Australia's golden shores. - - -What passed between Maxwell and Samson Belk at their interview, Mrs. -Belswin could never discover; but as Archie did not in any way change -his manner towards her she was satisfied that her name had not -transpired during the conversation, or if it had, Belk had said -nothing detrimental to her in any way. As to Belk himself, she saw him -when he came up to London, but he refused to tell her whether he had -overheard the conversation between herself and Sir Rupert, and she was -therefore forced to remain in a constant state of uneasiness. Although -Belk denied that he had been out of the house after his return from -the four o'clock interview, and supported this assertion by the -evidence of his mother and the curate, yet Mrs. Belswin had a kind of -half suspicion that he had been on the terrace on the night in -question, and had heard more than he was willing to confess. But, -then, she argued to herself that, if this were the case, he would -certainly use his power over her to force her into marriage with him, -whereas he did nothing of the sort, but behaved as if he knew -absolutely nothing. - -It was now three months since the famous interview at the Belk -cottage, and Samson had carried out the plan proposed by his mother. -He had appeared at a first-class music hall as the "Nineteenth Century -Samson," and, by his superior strength, had easily distanced his -rivals, both "The New Milo" and "The Modern Hercules." They, of -course, were furious at being eclipsed, but his mother was delighted -with his success; the music hall manager was charmed at the crowds -drawn by his new star, and perhaps the only person not thoroughly -happy was the star himself. The reason of this discontent was, that in -order to preserve his strength, he had to lead a very abstemious life, -both as regards food and drink, so that, although he was making a -large income, he was not enjoying it. Despite his discontent, however, -he still led his life of an ascetic, and saved all his money, which -was a marked contrast to his former extravagant ways; but then, he had -a purpose in economising, and the purpose was Mrs. Belswin, whom he -had made up his mind to marry, as soon as he was rich enough. - -In the meantime, that lady was leading a sufficiently comfortable -life, as, when she ran short of money, she always drew on Dombrain, -who did not dare to refuse it to her. Kaituna still lived with her, -and, as some time had elapsed since the death of her father, she had -recovered nearly all her former vivacity, and was looking anxiously -forward to her marriage with Archie--a marriage which was soon to take -place, owing to the good news from Australia about the Pole Star -Silver Mine. - -Toby Clendon had duly arrived in the land of the Southern Cross, and -had sent home brilliantly written letters of his travels, which -satisfied the editor, and delighted the readers of _The Weekly -Scorpion_, In addition to this excellent literary work, which, by the -way, was giving him a name in journalistic circles, he had made -inquiries about the Pole Star Mine, and although the information he -obtained was disheartening enough at first, yet, after a time the Pole -Star silver shares began to be inquired about, and in a few weeks were -actually worth money. - -Archie, who had benefited by his mining experiences in the colony, -and, moreover, had made friends with an enterprising share broker, who -was, as they say "in the know," sent to Kaituna for the scrip lying in -the hands of Dombrain. After some difficulty, Archie, who acted as her -agent, obtained it from the unwilling Dombrain, and sent all the -scrip, to the value of two thousand shares, out to Toby, with a power -of attorney authorising him to deal with them as he judged best. - -Acting by the advice of his stockbroker, Toby judged it best to hold -the scrip, as the shares were on the rise, and in a few days his -confidence in the mine was justified. A lode was discovered in the -Pole Star ground, which was said to rival the celebrated Comstock lode -in California, which sent all 'Frisco mad in the old days, and the -shares began to rise rapidly, so rapidly indeed, that Toby was -justified in thinking that Kaituna would be a great heiress after all. -They went from nothing up to twenty pounds a share; again by slow -gradations they rose to fifty pounds each, and Toby wanted to sell, -but his stockbroker still advised him to hold. In a month they were -worth one hundred pounds each, and Toby still held on. The excitement -in Melbourne was intense, and other silver mining companies began to -spring round the famous Pole Star, in several of which Toby invested -the salary he drew from _The Weekly Scorpion_. The surrounding mines -were very fluctuating in the share market, but the Pole Star itself -never faltered for a moment in its upward career, and at the end of -three months, Toby wired to Maxwell that the shares were now worth the -enormous value of two hundred pounds each. - -Maxwell, in a state of great excitement, consulted Mrs. Belswin and -Kaituna, and they, considering that a bird in the hand was worth two -in the bush, decided to sell at that price. Instructions were wired -out to Clendon to realise without delay, which he did carefully by -selling the shares in parcels, as two thousand thrown on the market, -for no apparent cause, would have caused a drop in the price. The -selling took some time; but at the end of a month or so the whole two -thousand were disposed of, and the amount standing to the credit of -Miss Kaituna Pethram in The Bank of Australia was somewhere about four -hundred thousand pounds, which was certainly a very respectable -fortune for a girl formerly penniless. - -Kaituna herself was wild with joy, and wanted to marry Maxwell at -once; but, strange to say, he that had urged on the marriage when she -was poor, now held back, lest it should be said he was marrying her -for her money. Mrs. Belswin, however, promptly settled all that, and -talked him over into getting married at once. Then a letter was -received from Toby, saying that he also had been successful in mining -speculations to the amount of some thousands, and was on his way home -to Miss Valpy and matrimony. - -Ultimately the two girls decided that they would be married in the -same way, and Archie felt deeply grateful that things had turned out -so well; while Mrs. Belswin, confident now that Kaituna's happiness -was secured, both as regards income and marriage, looked upon her -life's work as over. - -Of course she had to reckon with Ferrari who still urged her to marry -him; and as she had told Archie that she was engaged to the Italian, -she did not very well see how she was going to escape this match, -which was decidedly repugnant to her, as it separated her from her -child, and gave her to a man for whom she cared nothing. Belk also -hinted that his intentions were matrimonial as soon as he had amassed -sufficient money; so Mrs. Belswin lamented the good looks which had -placed her between two matrimonial fires. While she was in this -unpleasant situation, Fate, in the person of Mr. Dombrain, intervened -and decided the question in a highly unpleasant manner. - -After his failure to convict Ferrari and Belk of the crime of murder, -Archie had quite given up the idea of finding out the assassin; and -Kaituna began to think that he would never be discovered. She proposed -to Archie when they were married, to devote their newly gained wealth -to seeking out the cowardly assassin; but Maxwell, who had grave -doubts about Mrs. Belswin, Ferrari, and Belk, endeavoured to dissuade -her. It will be said that if Maxwell had doubts like this, why did he -permit Kaituna to remain with the companion? But the fact is, all his -doubts were very undecided. He could not accuse Mrs. Belswin, as he -had no evidence to go on, so he was forced to remain quiet and let -things take their course. - -In the acquirement of the money through the Pole Star Mine, in -thinking of the double marriage soon to take place, the death of Sir -Rupert was beginning to be almost forgotten, when suddenly it was -brought to the minds of all interested by a terrible event. - -Mrs. Belswin was arrested on a charge of having committed the murder. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII. -MR. DOMBRAIN SHOWS HIS TEETH. - - - An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth-- - That, as I take it, is Bible-truth. - You have robbed me of my good name; - I will bring you to want and shame. - Both are wicked, so both shall fall-- - God in His Heaven shall judge of it all. - - -Mrs. Belswin brought it all on herself. She would play with fire, and -although a life-long experience had taught her how dangerous was that -pastime, she nevertheless indulged in it, even at the risk of burning -her fingers. Indeed, so many times had she rushed into danger in her -fierce, impulsive way, and so many times had she emerged scatheless by -sheer good luck, that she became reckless in her daring, and at last -the inevitable happened--she went too far. - -Everything was now progressing smoothly, both with herself and with -those she loved. Kaituna had received an unexpected access of fortune, -so that the difficulties of her marriage with Archie Maxwell were now -removed by the power of gold; and Mrs. Belswin herself, living -constantly with her darling, had now nothing left to wish for. - -Yes! there was one thing she desired, and that was to see Silas Oates, -in order to taunt him with the news of her good fortune. It was sheer -devilry made her do this, as she cared nothing for her old lover; but -some fiend having whispered in her ear that good fortune to her would -be gall and wormwood to the American, she one day went straight to the -Langham Hotel, in order to enjoy her triumph. Luckily for himself, -Oates was absent in Paris at the time, where he had gone on a matter -of business; but on his return he found Mrs. Belswin's card, and -naturally enough being ignorant of her real object in paying him a -visit, thought she had called for the sole purpose of getting more -money out of him. - -Silas Oates, in a most unjust fashion, did not blame his quondam -lady-love for her persistency, knowing her real nature too well to -expect anything from her; but he blamed Mr. Dombrain for not keeping -his promise, and making Mrs. Belswin stop her pecuniary importunities. - -The lady herself had entirely forgotten Mr. Dombrain and his threats, -or if she did remember them it was with a contemptuous sneer, as she -thought in her own heart that he could do nothing to harm her. But if -Mrs. Belswin thus proved forgetful of the solicitor, Silas Oates did -not. Mr. Oates was genuinely angry at the way Dombrain permitted Mrs. -Belswin to annoy him, so, as the unfortunate lawyer had omitted to -fulfil his promise of acting as watch-dog, the American determined to -punish him as he had threatened for his negligence. - -Silas went about the affair in a way peculiarly his own, and in a very -few days Mr. Dombrain received a letter demanding an explanation of -certain allegations concerning his past made against him by an -American gentleman. The unfortunate man was quite stunned at the -suddenness of his calamity; nor was he comforted when a spiteful note -arrived from Silas, which stated that he had revealed everything about -the convict Damberton to the Law Society, as a punishment for the -negligence of the lawyer Dombrain. Of course the poor wretch could not -defend himself, although he made a feeble attempt to do so; and the -consequence of Mrs. Belswin's folly and Mr. Oates's letter was, that -Alfred Dombrain of London, Solicitor, was struck off the rolls, as not -fit to have his name inscribed thereon. - -It was truly a terrible thing to happen to this man, who, not having -saved much money, now found himself reduced from an honourable -profession, which gained him a competence, to a disgraceful position -and absolute beggary. The loss of his money troubled him but little, -the loss of his name a great deal, for having once more regained the -esteem of his fellow-men by years of exemplary life, he felt keenly -the bitterness of being reduced to the same ignoble position he had -occupied years before. He tried every means in his power to escape the -disgrace, but the Law Society were relentless, and Dombrain, lawyer, -once more became that phantom of the past--Damberton, outcast. - -Neither lawyer nor outcast, however, were satisfied to accept this -crushing blow without making some return thereto; and when Mr. -Dombrain found that all his ideas of respectability were at an end, he -turned round venomously to punish Mrs. Belswin, whom he considered to -be the main cause of his unmerited disgrace. He did not write to her, -he did not see her, he did not even mention her name to a soul, but he -went straight to the nearest police magistrate, told his story of what -had taken place at Thornstream on that fatal night, and, as a result, -obtained a warrant of arrest against Mrs. Belswin for the murder of -Sir Rupert Pethram. This being done, he departed, in company with two -detectives, to feast his eyes on the disgrace of this woman, who had -cost him his hardly earned position; and for the first time for many -days he laughed--not a pleasant laugh, but a nasty, sardonic, sneering -laugh, which boded ill to the liberty and peace of mind of Jezebel -Manners, alias Lady Pethram, alias Mrs. Belswin. In spite of the -tragic force of the whole matter, there was something positively -grotesque in the situation; for Silas Oates wronged by Mrs. Belswin, -had revenged himself upon Mr. Dombrain; and Mr. Dombrain wronged by -Silas Oates, had revenged himself upon Mrs. Belswin. It was a -three-cornered duel, to speak paradoxically, in which every one shot -at every one else, but the only person of the three principals who -came off scot-free was the American, and he appreciated the grim irony -of the situation. - -Meanwhile Mrs. Belswin, quite unaware how dearly her attempt to see -Oates had cost her, was seated in company with Kaituna and Archie -Maxwell at afternoon tea, and the trio were talking about the Pole -Star shares, the expected arrival of Toby Clendon, and, of course, -about the approaching marriages. - -"And you will be perfectly happy, Kaituna," said Mrs. Belswin, looking -wistfully at her daughter--the daughter whom she dare not acknowledge. - -Kaituna caught hold of Archie's hand, with a quick flush and a look of -delight in her large black eyes. - -"Yes, perfectly happy," she replied, smiling. "We are going to be the -Darby and Joan of romance, are we not, Archie?" - -"I trust so, dear; but Darby and Joan! Oh, what a prosaic comparison. -No! Kaituna we will be--let me think--we will be like Lord Lovel and -Lady Nancy Bell in the old ballad." - -"Fie, that is a worse comparison than mine! They were unhappy, and if -a red rose and a briar did grow out of their respective graves, I -don't know that such a miracle proves your case." - -"Well, you certainly ought to be happy," said Mrs. Belswin, with a -quick sigh, as she realised how soon she was to lose the girl she -loved. "Health, wealth, and love--what a trinity of perfections." - -"All of which are to be found in Kaituna. But you, Mrs. Belswin, what -about Signor Ferrari?" - -"Oh, I have not made up my mind yet to marry him, Mr. Maxwell; -besides, I have another offer." - -"Another offer?" cried Kaituna, gaily. "Oh, fortunate woman; and from -whom?" - -"Mr. Samson Belk." - -"Oh!" said Maxwell, smiling, "he is the other Romeo in the field. -Well, he is certainly very handsome----" - -"And is very fond of me," interrupted Mrs. Belswin, quickly. "But all -the same I am not for him." - -"Nor for Signor Ferrari either?" laughed Kaituna, going over to her -chaperon and putting her arms round her neck. "Ah, there is a third -person." - -"I think you can pretty well guess whom that third person is," said -Mrs. Belswin, kissing the girl; "but Mr. Maxwell is going to rob me of -my third person." - -"I cannot deny the soft impeachment," replied Archie, with a gay nod. -"As soon as Toby comes home we will be married." - -The talk was certainly frivolous; but then, after all the trials these -three people had undergone, it was a great relief to chatter idly in a -desultory manner, especially when all three beheld the brightness of -the future. For them the storms and trials of life had passed--so they -fondly thought; and the elder woman, looking back at the dismal past, -thanked God in her heart for the peaceful present, while the lovers -saw before them nothing but a shining path, strewn with roses, leading -to the paradise of perfect felicity. - -At this moment a knock came at the door, and the servant entered with -a frightened look on her face. - -"Oh, mum," she said, going quickly to Mrs. Belswin, "there are three -gentleman to see you." - -"Who are they?" asked Mrs. Belswin, in some surprise, never thinking -for a moment of the coming storm. - -"Mr. Dombrain, mum, and----" - -"Mr. Dombrain," repeated Mrs. Belswin, with a chill of fear at her -heart; "what does he want?" - -"I want you, Jezebel Manners," said Dombrain, making his appearance at -the door, with a malignant grin on his coarse red face. - -The moment she heard the name Mrs. Belswin knew it was all over, and -with a cry of agony held out her imploring hands to the lawyer. - -"Oh, not before her! not before her!" she moaned piteously. - -Kaituna, overcome with astonishment at this strange scene, went up to -Mrs. Belswin as if to protect her, but the woman shrank from her with -a moan of pain, and hid her face in her hands. - -"What does this mean?" demanded Maxwell, as soon as he recovered his -breath. - -"You will soon know," retorted Dombrain, savagely. "Jezebel Manners, -Pethram, Belswin, or whatever name you like to call yourself, I warned -you the last time we met what I would do if you played me false. You -have done so, to my ruin, my shame, my disgrace, and I have come to -drag you down to where you have hurled me. This is the woman, -officers." - -One of the detectives advanced and touched Mrs. Belswin on the -shoulder. - -"In the Queen's name, I arrest you----" - -"Arrest her?" interrupted Kaituna, her face flaming with indignation; -"but for what--for what?" - -"For the murder of Rupert Pethram." - -Kaituna gave a shriek of horror, and seized Maxwell by the arm, while -he, scarcely less thunderstruck, stared at the detective with a look -of amazement on his face. - -"It is false! it is false!" shrieked Mrs. Belswin, throwing herself on -her knees before Kaituna, "I swear to you it is false. I did not kill -your father." - -"You did," said Dombrain, in a deep voice, "I saw you do it!" - -"Liar!" - -Mrs. Belswin sprang to her feet and made a bound forward, with a -fierce light flashing in her eyes, and it would have been a bad thing -for Mr. Dombrain had she succeeded in reaching him. The detective, -however, was on the watch, and throwing himself on the wretched woman, -had the handcuffs on her wrists in a moment. - -"I cannot believe it! I cannot believe it!" moaned Kaituna, hiding her -face on Maxwell's breast.--"Mrs. Belswin, my kind good friend----" - -"Your friend," scoffed Dombrain, with an ugly glitter in his -ferret-like eyes. "Yes, you don't know who your friend is!" - -"For God's sake, silence!" shrieked Mrs. Belswin, pale to the lips. - -"No, I will not keep silence, you fiend, who have ruined me. I will -tell all. Miss Pethram, do you see that wretched woman with the -handcuffs on--that guilty wretch who murdered your father, that----" - -"I see Mrs. Belswin," cried Kaituna, with sudden fire; "I see the -woman who saved me from starvation, and I do not believe this base -charge you make." - -With noble indignation she walked across to Mrs. Belswin, and threw -her arm round the poor woman's neck, while Archie, who respected and -liked the companion, mutely approved of the girl's generous action. - -"Ah, you put your arm on her neck now," said Dombrain, with a sneer, -"but you will take it away when you know----" - -"Dombrain!" cried the wretched woman, for the last time, "spare -me--spare me!" - -"I will spare you as you have spared me." - -"Be silent, with your cowardly threats, sir," said Kaituna, looking -proudly at him, "and do your worst. Who is Mrs. Belswin?" - -"Your mother!" - -Kaituna gave a cry, and recoiled from her companion. - -"My mother!" she said, hoarsely. "It cannot be! my mother is dead." - -Dombrain played his trump card. - -"Your mother is alive! She stands there, and you can now know her for -what she is--a guilty wife--a divorced woman--and the murderer of her -husband." - -Kaituna gazed at this gibing devil with a terrified stare in her -dilated eyes, then turned slowly and looked at her miserable mother. -The unhappy woman, with a grey worn face, haggard and scarred with -myriad wrinkles, made a step forward, as if to embrace her child, but -the girl, with a look of terror, shrank back, and fell in a faint on -the floor at the feet of Maxwell, while Mrs. Belswin sank on her knees -with a piteous cry, wringing her manacled hands over the unconscious -form of the daughter she had found--and lost. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV. -IN OPEN COURT. - - - Who's sure of Life's game, - When Fate interferes? - For praise or for blame, - Who's sure of life's game? - A sentence--a name, - Turns joy into tears, - Who's sure of Life's game, - When Fate interferes? - - -This strange case--particulars of which in some mysterious way got -into the daily papers--excited much curiosity in London, and when the -preliminary inquiry into the affair took place, the court was crowded -to suffocation. The public, of course, learned all about the matter -from the newspapers, but how the reporters managed to learn so much -was most extraordinary, as they gave an account of Mrs. Belswin's -previous life--of her presence, under a false name, in the house of -her late husband--of the murder of that husband--and of the wonderful -amount of money realised by the sale of the Pole Star shares for the -daughter of the murdered man, and the woman accused of the crime. All -this, more or less garbled and exaggerated, appeared in the leading -morning papers, and the "Pethram Paradox"--so it was called--took a -prominent place among the sensations of the day. Maxwell, deeply -angered at this publicity, which would make the public judge Mrs. -Belswin guilty, before she had a chance of defending herself, made -several attempts to find Dombrain, whom he suspected of being the -author of this malignant gossip in order to damage the chance of the -unfortunate woman during her trial, but Mr. Dombrain, suspecting that -he would be looked for, made himself scarce, and until the day of the -preliminary inquiry, nothing was seen or heard of him by those on the -side of Mrs. Belswin. - -Kaituna, noble-hearted girl as she was, persistently refused to -believe her mother guilty; and, through Maxwell engaged the most -prominent legal talent of the day for her defence; but although she -sought an interview with Mrs. Belswin in jail, the unhappy woman -persistently refused to see her until she was publicly proved innocent -of the terrible crime laid to her charge. At this trying time Archie -Maxwell proved himself worthy of the high opinion entertained of him -by Kaituna, and acting as Mrs. Belswin's friend did everything in his -power to assist her during the coming ordeal. Signor Ferrari too, mad -with impulsive Italian wrath at the accusation made by Mr. Dombrain, -offered himself as a witness; but on discovering that his evidence -would be detrimental to Mrs. Belswin's defence, the lawyer declined to -take advantage of his offer. As for Belk, whom Maxwell thought would -be one of the first to come forward and help the unhappy woman he -professed to love, he kept persistently out of the way, and neither by -word nor deed showed that he took the least interest in her fate. When -the day of the preliminary inquiry therefore came, Mrs. Belswin was -left with only three friends who believed in her innocence--Kaituna, -Maxwell, and Ferrari, who were all present in court when she was -placed in the prisoner's dock. - -She looked terribly pale and haggard, for Mrs. Belswin, having one of -those natures which are only strong through impulse, was quite unable -to bear up against the calamity which had befallen her. All her -fierceness, her iron nerve, her reckless daring, which had -successfully coped with so many perils, had now deserted her; for this -blow, so long dreaded, having descended, she seemed unable to fight -against it, and stood silently in the dock, a pale weeping woman, -quite unlike the Borgia-like creature of other days. The follower of -Mahomet will fight bravely as long as fortune goes with him; but when -the tide turns and he believes that it is the will of Allah that evil -should befall him, he says Kismet, and bows to the decree of Heaven. -Mrs. Belswin behaved in exactly the same way--she had fought bravely -against overwhelming odds to keep her daughter and her secret, but now -that the worst had come she thought it useless to struggle against -destiny, so resigned herself to the inevitable. - -The counsel for the prosecution stated that this was one of the most -painful cases that had ever come under his notice. It would be -remembered that some months previously the public had been horrified -to hear of the murder of Sir Rupert Pethram, of Thornstream, -Berkshire; who had been shot while standing at the window of his -study. In spite of the utmost vigilance of the police the person who -had committed this dastardly crime could not be discovered; but now, -by the evidence of Mr. Alfred Dombrain, the prisoner was accused of -being the guilty person. The chain of circumstances which culminated -in the committal of this crime were so extraordinary that he would -take leave to inform the court of the whole affair, and the motive for -the murder would be clearly proved against the prisoner. It appears -that many years ago the deceased baronet--who at that time had not -succeeded to the title--had married in New Zealand, where he was then -living, the prisoner, Jezebel Manners, who was a half-caste, the -daughter of a Maori mother and a European father, a woman of violent -and rash temper. One child was born of the marriage, which turned out -to be very unhappy; and eventually Mrs. Pethram eloped with an -American, called Silas Oates. The late baronet obtained a decree -absolute against her, and remained in New Zealand, where he looked -after the welfare of his motherless child, while his divorced wife -went to San Francisco with the co-respondent Oates. The divorced woman -and her lover were together for some time; but he ultimately left her, -evidently being quite unable to bear with her outrageous temper. The -prisoner then went on the stage, and sang successfully in opera for -many years under the name of Madame Tagni. Finally, about eight months -previously, she came to England, and found that her husband, by the -death of his brother, had succeeded to the title, and was living at -Thornstream, in Berkshire, with his daughter Kaituna. - -The prisoner, anxious to see her child again concocted a scheme by -which to enter the house as a companion to Miss Pethram. Sir Rupert -had gone out to New Zealand on business, and, according to his -instructions, Mr. Dombrain advertised for a companion for Miss Pethram -during his absence. The prisoner applied, and was engaged for the -situation by Mr. Dombrain, who was quite in ignorance of her -antecedents, and her connection with the late baronet. She took -possession of the situation, and while Sir Rupert was absent -everything went well. On his arrival, however, he had an interview -with the so-called Mrs. Belswin, and, recognising his guilty wife, -ordered her out of the house. This interview took place at night, -about nine o'clock, in the study at Thornstream; and Mrs. Belswin left -the house by the window, vowing vengeance for the course adopted by -her husband. Instead, therefore, of going away she lurked outside on -the terrace, and when her husband came to the window she shot him with -a pistol she had in her possession. Having committed this terrible -crime, she had coolly stepped across the body of the man she had -murdered, and re-entering the house went to her bedroom. All the -household being ignorant alike of her interview with the late baronet -and her antecedents, she was never for a moment suspected, except by -Mr. Dombrain. That gentleman, hearing the noise of Mrs. Belswin coming -upstairs, looked out of the door of his bedroom and saw her pass him. -Next morning, when the crime was known, he would have denounced her; -but owing to the darkness of the night was unable to be certain of the -identity of the woman who crept upstairs. The other day, however, he -taxed Mrs. Belswin with the crime; and although she denied it, yet -from her agitated manner he felt certain she was the criminal, upon -which he at once gave information to the police. Mrs. Belswin was -arrested on a warrant, and now stood charged with the murder of her -late husband, Sir Rupert Pethram. The first and only witness he would -call would be Mr. Alfred Dombrain, upon whose accusation the prisoner -had been arrested. - -This skilfully worded speech made things look very black against Mrs. -Belswin; and when Dombrain stepped into the witness-box to -substantiate the terrible statements made by the counsel for the -prosecution, there were many who looked upon the prisoner's committal -for trial as a foregone conclusion. - -Mr. Dombrain, having been duly sworn, stated that he had acted as the -legal adviser of the late baronet, and in pursuance of his -instructions had engaged the prisoner as a companion for Miss Pethram. -He was wholly ignorant of her former life, and that she was the -divorced wife of the late Sir Rupert, but as she seemed a suitable -person for a chaperon, he had engaged her at once, upon which she went -down to Thornstream in order to take up her duties. Upon the arrival -of Sir Rupert in England he had gone down to Thornstream in connection -with some legal business the late baronet wished to see him about Mrs. -Belswin was not at Thornstream on his arrival, as she had gone to -London a few days previous about some private matter; but she arrived -at Thornstream on the same afternoon as he did. She did not appear at -dinner, but on leaving the study after an interview with Sir Rupert -he had seen the prisoner enter. As she did not re-appear in the -drawing-room, where he was sitting with Miss Pethram, he retired to -bed, and he believed Miss Pethram also retired to bed, having a bad -headache. Towards eleven o'clock he thought he heard the sound of a -shot, but was not certain, although he sprang out of bed and went to -the door of his room. It was near the staircase, and as he leaned over -the banisters in the darkness, he heard the study door shut with a -slight noise, after which Mrs. Belswin came hastily upstairs, and -went into her own room. Next morning, when the crime was discovered, -she said she had not been out of her room at that hour. He was not -quite sure if it was Mrs. Belswin, as the staircase was dark. A week -ago she came to his office on business, and he accused her of having -committed the murder, which accusation she at first denied, but -afterwards half confessed to her guilt. He at once gave information to -the police, and she was arrested. - -In cross-examination Mr. Dombrain said he had found out all about the -prisoner's relations with the deceased from some papers in his -possession, and knew Mrs. Belswin was the divorced wife from the -description given of her in the handwriting of the deceased. - -COUNSEL FOR THE ACCUSED.--I see that at the inquiry into the death of -Sir Rupert you said you had not heard a pistol-shot. - -MR. DOMBRAIN.--I was not certain and sooner than declare I heard, I -thought it best to reply in the negative. - -COUNSEL.--Is it not true, Mr. Dombrain, that you have a grudge against -the prisoner? - -DOMBRAIN.--No, it is not true. - -COUNSEL.--The prisoner declares that she knew you in New Zealand. - -DOMBRAIN.--It is a lie. I never was in New Zealand. - -COUNSEL.--Not under the name of Damberton? - -DOMBRAIN.--No. - -COUNSEL.--I understand your name has been struck off the rolls. - -DOMBRAIN.--I don't see what that has to do with the case. - -COUNSEL.--Ah, you are rather dense; I will explain. Your real name is -Alfred Damberton. You were imprisoned in New Zealand for embezzlement, -and on your release you came to England. Is this not true? - -DOMBRAIN (violently).--No sir! It is false! Who accuses me? The -prisoner!--and why? Because I have brought her to justice. Through her -lies I have been struck off the rolls, but I can prove myself -innocent, and will do so shortly! - -COUNSEL.--I wish you every success, Mr. Dombrain, but I am afraid you -will find it difficult! - -When Dombrain left the witness-box, the counsel for the prosecution -said he had no more witnesses to call at present, upon which the -counsel for the defence made a short speech, and said that as his -learned brother had set the example of brevity, he would do the same -thing, and only call one witness in defence of the prisoner. The name -of that witness was Samson Belk. - -Mrs. Belswin looked surprised when she heard this name, not for a -moment thinking that Belk's evidence could do her any good; and -Kaituna also appeared to be astonished, as she knew how Belk had kept -out of the way since her mother's arrest. Maxwell's face, however, -wore a contented smile, and this smile was reflected in the -countenance of the defending counsel, so, without doubt, these two men -knew that Belk's evidence was valuable, and were prepared to abide by -the result. - -Samson Belk, stepping into the witness-box, made oath according to -law, and gave the following remarkable evidence in favour of the -prisoner:-- - -He had been steward to the deceased baronet, and on the night of the -murder had come up to the hall to ask his master a question about the -discharge of farm hands. If was nearly eleven o'clock when he arrived -at the door of the hall, and he hesitated whether to disturb Sir -Rupert at that hour. However, seeing the light streaming out of the -window of Sir Rupert's study, he advanced along in that direction, but -on hearing angry voices he had hidden himself behind a bush on the -terrace, in order to see what was the matter. The voices were those of -Sir Rupert and another man, whose tones he did not recognise. The -other man was imploring Sir Rupert to keep some secret, but the -baronet refused, and said all the world would know the truth on the -morrow. The man began to threaten, and Sir Rupert thrust him out of -the window on to the terrace, telling him he would ruin him by -revealing everything. So strong had been the baronet's push that the -man fell down upon the side of the terrace near the balustrade, and -Sir Rupert, with outstretched hand, stood pointing at him. The light -of the lamp within shone on the man crouching at the baronet's feet, -and I saw him take out something--I did not know what--and point it at -Sir Rupert, who stood in the window. There was no sound, and yet the -baronet fell, and the man, with a cry of triumph, rushed away into the -darkness. Witness ran forward to see what was the matter with his -master, and found him dead. He (the witness) had had a quarrel with -Sir Rupert on that day, and being afraid lest, if he gave the alarm, -he should be accused of the murder, and could not defend himself, he -went away, and said nothing about it. The crime was discovered next -morning, but no suspicion was fixed upon him, as no one had known of -his presence on the terrace that night. - -COUNSEL FOR THE PROSECUTION.--But could you not denounce the man who -committed the crime? - -BELK.--I did not know who he was--I never saw him before or since the -light fell on him through the window, until---- - -COUNSEL FOR THE PROSECUTION.--Until when? - -BELK.--Until I saw him to-day. - -There was a great sensation in court, and every one looked at one -another in astonishment, while a gleam of triumph flashed from the -eyes of the prisoner. - -COUNSEL FOR THE PROSECUTION.--If you saw him to-day, as you say, do you -know his name? - -BELK.--Yes. - -COUNSEL FOR THE PROSECUTION.--And the name of this man who killed Sir -Rupert? - -BELK.--The man who accuses the prisoner of the murder--the man you -call Dombrain. - -If there was excitement before, there was ten times more excitement -now, and the crier found great difficulty in reducing all present to -silence. There was a sudden pause in the noise, and the prisoner, -raising her eyes to heaven, said in a solemn voice-- - -"It is true! I am innocent of this crime. He has fallen himself into -the pit he digged for another." - -Yes, she was innocent, and the man who accused her guilty; but -when they looked for Dombrain, in order to arrest him, he had -disappeared--vanished into the depths of mighty London, when he heard -his name coupled with that of murder. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXV. -EXPIATION. - - - What fools are they who think God ever sleeps, - Or views their follies with a careless eye. - Fortune may heap her favours on their heads. - Blithe Pleasure lull them with her jingling bells, - And life for them be one long carnival; - But in their triumph of prosperity, - When all the smiling future seems serene, - God; frowning, stretches out His mighty arm, - And lo! the hungry grave gapes at their feet. - - -So Mrs. Belswin was delivered from her great peril, and was taken home -by Kaituna and her lover with great rejoicing. Maxwell, indeed, after -hearing the story of this woman, had hesitated for a moment as to -whether he ought to let her be with her daughter, seeing that she had -forfeited her maternal rights by her own act, but when he hinted this -to Kaituna she rebuked him with one sentence-- - -"She is my mother." - -So Maxwell held his peace, and after Mrs. Belswin had been released -from her position of ignominy and shame, he had escorted both mother -and daughter to their lodgings. There he left them, and at Mrs. -Belswin's request, went to seek for Belk, and bring him there to -receive the thanks of the woman he had saved. Having departed on his -errand, Kaituna sat down beside her mother, in order to hear from her -own lips the story of her sad life. - -With many sobs, Mrs. Belswin told the whole pitiful story of her sin, -which had brought her to such a bitter repentance, and, when she had -ended, fell weeping at the feet of the daughter she feared now -would despise her. Ah! she little knew the tenderness which the girl -had cherished for her mother, and which she cherished for her even -now, when the dead saint had changed into the living sinner. -Pitifully--tenderly she raised her mother from her abject position of -sorrow, and kissed away the bitter tears of shame and agony that fell -down the hollow cheeks. - -"Mother!" she said, clasping her arms round the poor woman's breast, -"if you have sinned, you have also suffered. The one false step you -made has brought its own punishment; but why did you not tell me all -this before, and so have saved yourself this bitter agony?" - -"Tell you before?" said her mother, sadly. "Child! child! what good -would such a confession have done? You could not have helped me." - -"No, dearest; but I could have loved you. I could have made your life -less hard. Oh, mother! poor mother, how you must have suffered when I -treated you as a stranger." - -"I did suffer," replied Mrs. Belswin, in a low tone, "but not so much -as you think, for even then you treated me more like a mother than as -a companion." - -"And I was the little child of whom you spoke?" - -"Yes, dear." - -"Oh, blind! blind! how could I have been so blind as not to guess your -secret. You betrayed yourself in a hundred ways, my poor mother, but I -never saw it. But now--now that I know the truth, I see how blind I -have been." - -"Ah, Kaituna, if I had only known you would have received me like -this, but I feared to tell you of my shame lest you should turn from -me in scorn." - -"Hush! dear mother, hush!" - -"And it was terrible to think that the little child I had borne at my -breast should spurn me." - -"Mother!" - -"Oh, my sin! my sin!" wailed Mrs. Belswin, rocking herself to and fro, -"how it has cursed my life--how it has turned the earth into a hell of -repentance." - -"Do not say another word, mother," cried Kaituna, wiping the tears -from her mother's eyes; "the past is dead, we will speak of it no -more; but the future----" - -"Ah, my child, the future for you is bright; you will marry your -lover, and have him by your side during the rest of your life, but -I--Child, I must leave you." - -"Leave me?" - -"Yes! you know what I am! You know my sin, my folly, my shame! I -cannot look into your clear eyes, my child, for I have lost the right -to be your mother. No, Kaituna, while you did not know me, and -believed your mother to be a pure good woman, I stayed beside you, to -love you and hear you talk of me as I once was; but now--now--ah, no! -no! I dare not remain in your presence, I dare not kiss you, for my -kisses would pollute your lips. I will go away--far away, and expiate -my sin!" - -"But, mother, you will not leave me?" - -"It is for your good, child--it is for your good!" - -"You shall not leave me!" said Kaituna, winding her arms round the -elder woman's neck. "You have suffered enough for your sin, and for -the rest of your days I will help you to forget the past. Archie -thinks the same as I do. Come, mother, you will not leave me; promise -to stay beside me for ever." - -"I cannot promise," cried Mrs. Belswin, breaking away from the tender -bonds that held her; "oh! what a paradox I am. When you did not know -me I wished to stay. Now you know I am your wretched, guilty mother, I -wish to fly. I must go! I must! Seek not to detain me, child. As ye -sow so shall ye reap! The Bible, Kaituna! the Bible--let me go to my -harvest." - -Mrs. Belswin, with her savage nature maddened by the mental agonies -she had undergone, had worked herself up into one of those -uncontrollable fits of passion which made her so dangerous. She -had found her child, and now she was going to leave her of her own -free-will, because she could not bear to live with her own daughter, -who knew how vile she was. With a cry of agony, unable to bear any -more implorings from Kaituna, she flew to the door in order to escape; -but her daughter, who was determined not to let the poor distraught -creature go, perhaps to her death, sprang after her, and wrenching her -away, flung herself back against the door with outstretched arms. - -"No! no!" she cried, panting with excitement, "that way lies death. -Oh, mother! mother! I know what you would do; but do not leave me. If -you have any pity in your heart for the child you bore let me keep -you ever at my side. Where would you go out into the darkness of -London?--to the terrible stormy streets--to the river--ah! the river! -is that what you think? No! no! mother! my own dear mother, you must -not let me mourn your death twice." - -The evening sun was shining through the windows, touching the -furniture, the draperies, the mirrors, with soft gleams of light; and -Kaituna, with her head thrown back, and her arms outstretched, stood -against the door, while Mrs. Belswin, with a sudden cessation of her -mad anguish, stared vacantly at her daughter, and round the room. - -Ah! what was that gleaming in the sunlight from behind a heavy purple -curtain--steel--the barrel of a pistol; and it was pointed full at -Kaituna, With a shriek of rage Mrs. Belswin, guessing the truth, -sprang in front of her daughter to shield her from harm, and in -another moment had fallen in a heap at the feet of the child she -loved. There was no sound of a report, and Kaituna in a state of -horrified amazement, fell on her knees beside her mother. As she did -so a man ran from behind the curtain, and wrenching open the door -flung down a pistol and spoke rapidly-- - -"I wanted to kill you!" he said, with a snarl, "to punish her; but she -came between you and the pistol, so let her die as she deserves to, -with my curses on her." - -With a shriek Kaituna recognised him. It was Dombrain, and she sprang -to her feet to seize him; but eluding her grasp he ran out of the door -and down the stairs into the street. Kaituna could not follow him, as -her limbs tottered under her; but she managed to drag herself back to -her mother--the mother, alas, who was dying. - -The red blood was welling slowly from a wound in her breast, and a -thick sluggish stream was stealing heavily along the polished floor. -Lifting the dying woman's head on her lap the girl cried aloud for -help upon which the servant came rushing in. She shrieked when she saw -Mrs. Belswin lying unconscious in her blood, and ran out to call in -aid--ran right into the arms of Maxwell, Belk and Ferrari, who were -just entering. - -"Help! help!" cried the servant, rushing past them, "a doctor--a -doctor! She is dying." - -"Kaituna!" exclaimed Archie with a sudden fear in his breast; and -without a moment's pause the three men rushed into the room, where the -girl was sitting with a look of agony on her pale face as she bent -over the unconscious woman. - -"Kaituna!--Mrs. Belswin!" - -"It is my mother--my poor mother," cried Kaituna, in an agony of -sorrow. "Have you caught him? Have you caught him?" - -"Who?" shouted Maxwell and Belk, while Ferrari, in a paroxysm of -grief, threw himself beside the body of the woman he loved. - -"Dombrain!" - -"Dombrain?" - -"Yes! yes! he was here! he shot my mother with that pistol. He has -just left the house." - -"God!" cried Belk, starting, "he was the man we saw running down the -street." And he was out of the room in pursuit without saying another -word. - -"A doctor! a doctor!" said Kaituna, imploringly, "Oh, Archie! she will -die, she will die!" - -"Stella adora!" moaned the Italian, covering the cold white hand with -kisses. - -"A doctor will be here in a few minutes," said Maxwell, approaching -the unconscious form of Mrs. Belswin; "the servant has gone for one. -Ferrari, help me to place her on the sofa!" - -But Ferrari could do nothing but tear his hair, and cry endearing -words in Italian to the woman he loved; so Kaituna, pale as marble, -but wonderfully brave, helped Archie to place Mrs. Belswin on the -sofa. She was breathing heavily, and Maxwell, tearing open her dress, -strove to staunch the blood with his handkerchief, while Ferrari -remained on his knees, and Kaituna stood beside him with clasped -hands. - -"Good heavens, she will bleed to death!" - -Just as Maxwell spoke, the doctor entered with the scared servant, and -at once proceeded to examine the wound. Having done so he looked very -grave, and Kaituna caught him by the arm with a cry of terror as he -arose from his knees. - -"She will live! she will live! Say she will live!" - -"I'm afraid not, my dear young lady," said the doctor, gravely; "the -bullet has gone right through the lungs." - -"Do you think she will die, doctor?" asked Maxwell, in a tone of -horror. - -"Yes! I am sure of it!" - -"Die!" cried the Italian, wildly, "no! no! Lucrezia--my beautiful -Lucrezia--you must not die." - -"Take that man away," said the doctor, sharply, "and get me some -brandy." - -Kaituna was the first to obey. The nerve of this girl was wonderful, -and notwithstanding all the agonies she had come through, she gave no -sign of fainting; and the terrible strain on her mind could only be -told by the pallor of her face. - -"My brave girl," said Archie, as he assisted her to get what the -doctor required. - -How slowly the hours passed in that room, where this poor woman was -dying. Yes, dying; for although the doctor did all in his power to -save her life, there was no hope that she would live through the -night. She was still lying on the sofa, from which she was unable to -be removed; and when she recovered consciousness, after the shock she -had sustained, she opened her eyes to see Kaituna kneeling fondly by -her side, and Maxwell, Belk, Ferrari, and the doctor, in the -background. Belk had not been able to find the assassin, who was lost -among the crowds that thronged the streets, so had returned in an -agony of grief to see the woman he loved die before his eyes without -being able to save her. - -So strange the scene was in this little drawing-room, with the couch -upon which rested the dying woman standing near the piano, the glitter -of mirrors and ornaments in the dim candle-light, and the silent group -standing round the one who was passing away. Outside the sunlight had -died out of the sky, the purple twilight deepened to night, and the -melancholy light of the moon streamed in through the windows, the -blinds of which no one had troubled to pull down. In the passage -crouched the servant, sobbing as if her heart would break; but Kaituna -could not cry, she could only kneel there with tearless eyes, and a -look of anguish on her white face watching her mother die. - -"Kaituna," said Mrs. Belswin, faintly. - -"I am here, dear mother!" - -"You are not hurt?" - -"No! No!" - -"Thank God," said her mother, with a tone of joy in her weak voice. "I -have paid the debt." - -"With your life--with your life," moaned the girl, wringing her hands -in despair. "Doctor, can you do nothing?" - -"Nothing." - -"I know I am dying," went on Mrs. Belswin in a stronger voice, having -swallowed some restorative; "it is better so! Hush! hush! my poor -child! God knows what is best. If I sinned against you in the past, He -has permitted me to expiate that sin by saving you from death. Archie! -take her, take my darling, and make her a good husband." - -"As there is a God above, I will," said Maxwell, solemnly, taking the -now weeping girl in his arms. - -"My poor Stephano, is it you?" - -"Ah, cara mia--cara mia," cried Ferrari, throwing himself on his knees -beside the sofa. "Do not leave me--do not!" - -"Alas, Stephano, it is not in my power! Weep! weep, poor heart! Your -tears show me how much love I have lost--love that I did not deserve." - -"And I?" said Belk, coming forward. - -"You are a good man," said the dying woman, faintly, stretching out -her hand. "You will find some one to love you better than I would have -done." - -"Never! Ah, never!" - -"Believe me, what I say is true. Ah!" she cried, with a terrified look -on her face. "Kaituna, my dearest!" - -In a moment Kaituna was on her knees again, bending over her mother, -with the hot tears falling from her eyes. - -"Mother! mother! would you like to see a clergyman?" - -"No, my darling no! I have sinned--I have sinned bitterly, but perhaps -God in His mercy will accept the expiation. Archie, be good to my -little child. Oh, my little girl, whom I lost for so many weary, weary -years, put your arms, your dear arms, round me, and let the outcast -die on the bosom of her child!" - -The murmuring noise from the street penetrated into the room; the dim -light of the candles flickered and flared in the faint breath of the -wind, and there was silence among all kneeling there, save for the -sobs of Kaituna and the broken mutterings of the dying woman repeating -a prayer. - -"Our Father, which art in Heaven----Oh, my child, my child, will he -forgive me--will He forgive me?" - -"I'm sure He will, mother!" - -"Half a savage, half civilised! Ah, if I had only been guided, I might -have been a good woman; but we were both wrong, Rupert and---- -Kaituna, my little child, I--I am leaving you! Oh, my baby--kiss me, my -dearest--my little----" - -Her head fell inertly on the encircling arm of the girl, and Kaituna -knew by the terribly calm look on the placid face that not all her -love--not all her money--not all her prayers, had availed to save from -death this mother whom she had lost and found--this mother who had -sinned and repented--this mother who had given her life to save that -of her child. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI. -A MEMORY OF THE PAST. - - - "De Mortuis"--you know the phrase, I think; - A kindly saying, such as poor humanity - Mutters at times when talking of the dead; - Therefore, I pray you, speak not any ill - Of this poor soul who suffered, sinned, and died, - Seeing her sinning brought her but to this; - Yourself when gone may need a pitying word, - When all your virtues with you are entombed, - And naught remains but sins to curse your name. - - -So it was Dombrain, after all, who had committed this crime, and, by -accusing Mrs. Belswin of the murder, placed her life in jeopardy, in -order both to revenge and save himself. Had it not been for the -unexpected evidence of Samson Belk, without doubt the unhappy woman -would have been found guilty, and suffered in the place of the astute -Mr. Dombrain. When this ex-lawyer, ex-convict, and constant blackguard -heard himself accused of the crime, he slipped out of the court and -vanished before he could be arrested, knowing that he could make no -defence. - -Part of his evidence was true, for he had been in the drawing-room, he -had seen Mrs. Belswin enter the study, but here his truth ceased and -his lies began. Fearing lest his name should be mentioned by the -infuriated woman during the interview, which would be sure to end in -the discomfiture of Mrs. Belswin the lawyer, trembling for his -respectable position, went to his bedroom and took his air-pistol, so -as to be prepared for emergencies. It is but fair to Mr. Dombrain to -say that he had no intention of using the weapon unless everything was -lost; so, creeping out of the house, he placed himself beside the open -window of the study, in order to hear what Mrs. Belswin would say. - -In accordance with his expectations, she did tell Sir Rupert all about -him, and when Dombrain heard the declaration of the baronet that he -would denounce him, he knew that all was lost, and that the sin of his -early youth was going to cost him the respectable position of his -middle age. When Mrs. Belswin, thrust forth by her unforgiving -husband, fled out into the night, Dombrain, trembling, sick at heart -at seeing all that made his life worth living vanish, crouched still -beside the window, and here Sir Rupert, who had come out to make sure -that his divorced wife had taken herself off, found him. - -Then an interview between the lawyer and the baronet took place, in -which the latter swore to reveal all the infamy of Dombrain, and have -him struck off the rolls. In vain the wretched man pleaded for mercy. -Coldly and inflexibly the baronet thrust him out of doors, the same -way he had done his wife; and then mad with anger at the terrible -future before him, Dombrain shot Sir Rupert, in the manner described -by Belk in the witness-box. After committing the crime and assuring -himself that his victim was dead, he coolly stepped across the body, -and took refuge in his own room, from whence he did not emerge for the -rest of the night. It was true, as he said, that his room was near the -head of the staircase, for he saw Mrs. Belswin leave the study as he -described, so it was then that the idea came into his head to secure -himself by sacrificing her, and thus both save and revenge himself at -one time. - -On leaving the court after having been denounced by Belk, his rage -against all the world for his thwarted revenge and his perilous -position knew no bounds. He had no idea of escaping justice, but -determined before he was seized to punish the woman who had--as he -believed--dragged him down even lower than his former position. Then -he had simply embezzled money, but now he had committed a crime for -which he would lose his life; and thus, seeing that his doom was -fixed, he determined that Mrs. Belswin should suffer for placing him -in such a perilous position. - -With this idea in his head, he took the air-pistol with which he had -killed Sir Rupert, and went to the lodgings of the dead man's daughter -and Mrs. Belswin. Skilfully managing to evade the notice of the -servant, he ensconced himself behind the curtains in the drawing-room, -and shot the unhappy woman as described. At first, knowing how bitter -it would be to Mrs. Belswin, he had intended to kill Kaituna, but the -unexpected action of the mother had saved the daughter from a terrible -death. Satisfied with his work, Dombrain threw down the pistol and -disappeared--disappeared into the depths of London, from whence he -never emerged. What became of him nobody ever knew. Whether he took -another name, and resumed his profession in provincial England; -whether he left the country; whether he died in the gutter, no one -ever discovered. Falling into the immense ocean of London like a drop -of rain, he became obliterated, lost, unknown, but no doubt in due -time he met his reward for his evil doings. - -And his victim? Alas, poor soul, her troubles, her trials, her -follies, were all at an end, and a simple cross marked the place where -she was buried. To that humble grave, a year after the events -described, came Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell, in reverence for the memory of -the woman--the mother who had given her life for that of her child. -Maxwell had married Kaituna in due course after a decent time had -elapsed from the death of Mrs. Belswin, and later on he had gone to -South America, on business connected with his profession; for, in -spite of Kaituna's wealth, Archie could not bring himself to live upon -her income. He had gone away for a few months to Buenos Ayres, and had -now returned to the side of Kaituna for ever. After much difficulty -she had persuaded him to accept her view of the question, and share -the proceeds of the Pole Star Mine. To this, after much hesitation, -Maxwell consented, and now the husband and wife had arranged to make a -tour of the world together. Before leaving England, however, they came -to Kensal Green cemetery to pay a last visit to the grave of the woman -who had sinned, but who also had suffered. - -"Poor mother!" said Kaituna, as she leaned on the strong arm of her -husband. "What a terribly bitter life she had, and her death was -hardly less sad." - -"She saved you, my darling," replied Maxwell, with a fond smile; "and -that, in her eyes, was recompense enough for the sudden ending of her -life." - -"If that wretch who killed her had only been punished?" - -"I've no doubt he is punished. It is true he escaped the hands of men, -but I am certain he will not escape the punishment of God. But come, -my dear Kaituna, these thoughts make you sad. Let us leave this dreary -place." - -"Yes; but see, Archie, that withered wreath of roses! It has been -placed there by Ferrari, I am sure." - -"But I thought he had gone to Italy." - -"Only three weeks ago! He came to me and talked a great deal about our -poor mother, whom he loved very dearly in his own impulsive way. But -now he is back in his own country, he no doubt will forget about her. -Men have such short memories." - -"Don't say that. Remember Belk." - -"Oh, he will go the same way," said Kaituna, a little bitterly. -"Certainly he behaved very well, for he used to bring flowers here -every week, along with Ferrari. How these two men must have loved my -mother!" - -"She deserved their love," replied Maxwell, after a pause. "She had -sinned, it is true, but she was bitterly punished for her sin. Well, -she lies here, and the two men who loved her have gone far away--one -to Italy, the other to America." - -"Ah, all our friends go thus!" - -"Not all, my dear. Remember Toby Clendon and his wife, who are living -so happily at Deswarth. We must go down and see them before we leave -England." - -"No, no!" said Kaituna, with a sudden shudder. "I cannot bear to go -near Thornstream after those terrible events which cost the lives of -both my parents." - -"Come, dear one," urged Maxwell, seeing how overcome she was with -emotion, "let us go away." - -"One moment," replied Kaituna, kneeling beside the grave. "I must say -farewell to my poor mother." - -And kneeling there in the long green grass, she breathed a prayer for -the soul of her unhappy mother, whose natural love had cost her so -dear. - -Maxwell, who had removed his hat when he heard this prayer mount like -incense to the throne of God, quoted a text from the Scriptures in a -low voice-- - -"She suffered much, so much shall be forgiven of her!" - - - -THE END. - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Fever of Life, by Fergus Hume - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FEVER OF LIFE *** - -***** This file should be named 56080-8.txt or 56080-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/6/0/8/56080/ - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by -Google Books (New York Public Library) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - diff --git a/old/56080-8.zip b/old/56080-8.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 64815cf..0000000 --- a/old/56080-8.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/56080-h.zip b/old/56080-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 048782b..0000000 --- a/old/56080-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/56080-h/56080-h.htm b/old/56080-h/56080-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 4fd82e1..0000000 --- a/old/56080-h/56080-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,12725 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> -<html> -<head> -<title>The Fever of Life</title> -<meta name="Author" content="Fergus Hume"> - -<meta name="Publisher" content="Street & Smith"> -<meta name="Date" content="1902"> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1"> -<style type="text/css"> -body {margin-left:10%; - margin-right:10%; background-color:#FFFFFF; - text-align: justify} - - -p.normal {text-indent:.25in; text-align: justify;} - -p.right {text-align:right; margin-right:20%;} -p.center {text-align: center;} -p.continue {text-indent: 0in; margin-top:9pt;} - -h1,h2,h3,h4,h5 {text-align: center;} - - -.t0 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:0em; margin-right:0em;} -.t1 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:1em; margin-right:0em;} -.t2 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:2em; margin-right:0em;} -.t3 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:3em; margin-right:0em;} -.t4 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:4em; margin-right:0em;} -.t5 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:5em; margin-right:0em;} - - -span.sc {font-variant: small-caps; font-size:110%;} -span.sc2 {font-variant: small-caps; font-size:90%;} - -hr.W10 {width:10%; color:black; margin-top:0pt; margin-bottom:0pt} - -hr.W20 {width:20%; color:black; margin-top:12pt; margin-bottom:12pt} - -hr.W50 {width:50%; color:black;} -hr.W90 {width:90%; color:black;} - -p.hang1 {margin-left:3em; text-indent:-3em;} -p.hang2 {margin-left:3em; text-indent:0em;} - -</style> - -</head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Fever of Life, by Fergus Hume - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Fever of Life - -Author: Fergus Hume - -Release Date: November 29, 2017 [EBook #56080] -Last Updated: January 29, 2018 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FEVER OF LIFE *** - - - - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by -Google Books (New York Public Library) - - - - - - -</pre> - -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<p class="hang1">Transcriber's Notes:<br> -1. Page scan source:<br> -https://books.google.com/books/about/<br> -The_Fever_of_Life.html?id=7nggAAAAMAAJ</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>THE FEVER OF LIFE</h3> -<hr class="W90"> -<i>By</i> FERGUS HUME, <i>author of "The Mystery of a Hansom Cab," -"The Year of Miracle," "The Piccadilly Puzzle," -"A Creature of the Night," "Monsieur Judas," "Madame Midas," Etc</i>. -<hr class="W90"> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<hr class="W90"> -<h4>NEW YORK AND LONDON<br> -STREET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS</h4> -<hr class="W90"> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h5>Copyright, 1901,<br> -By <span style="font-size:larger">UNITED STATES BOOK CO.</span></h5> -<hr class="W20"> -<h5>Copyright 1902.<br> -By <span style="font-size:larger">STREET & SMITH</span></h5> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<table cellpadding="10" style="width:90%; margin-left:5%; font-weight:bold"> -<colgroup><col style="width:20%; vertical-align:top; text-align:right"><col style="width:80%; vertical-align:top; text-align:left"></colgroup> -<tr> -<td colspan="2"><h3>CONTENTS</h3></td> -</tr><tr> -<td>CHAPTER.</td> -<td> </td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_01" href="#div1_01">I.</a></td> -<td>PINCHLER'S DOCKYARD.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_02" href="#div1_02">II.</a></td> -<td>WANTED, A CHAPERON.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_03" href="#div1_03">III.</a></td> -<td>THE WOMAN WITH THE FIERCE EYES.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_04" href="#div1_04">IV.</a></td> -<td>WHAT MRS. BELSWIN HAD TO SAY.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_05" href="#div1_05">V.</a></td> -<td>THE PRODIGAL SON.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_06" href="#div1_06">VI.</a></td> -<td>THE DRAGON.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_07" href="#div1_07">VII.</a></td> -<td>THE GARDEN OF HESPERIDES.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_08" href="#div1_08">VIII.</a></td> -<td>MRS. BELSWIN'S CORRESPONDENCE.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_09" href="#div1_09">IX.</a></td> -<td>A RUSTIC APOLLO.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_10" href="#div1_10">X.</a></td> -<td>A BOUDOIR CONSULTATION.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_11" href="#div1_11">XI.</a></td> -<td>THE ART OF DINING.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_12" href="#div1_12">XII.</a></td> -<td>ARS AMORIS.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_13" href="#div1_13">XIII.</a></td> -<td>EXIT MRS. BELSWIN.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_14" href="#div1_14">XIV.</a></td> -<td>SIGNOR FERRARI DECLINES.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_15" href="#div1_15">XV.</a></td> -<td>THE RETURN OF THE WANDERER.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_16" href="#div1_16">XVI.</a></td> -<td>FOREWARNED IS FOREARMED.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_17" href="#div1_17">XVII.</a></td> -<td>BEFORE THE STORM.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_18" href="#div1_18">XVIII.</a></td> -<td>FACE TO FACE.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_19" href="#div1_19">XIX.</a></td> -<td>THE OUTER DARKNESS.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_20" href="#div1_20">XX.</a></td> -<td>A MYSTERIOUS AFFAIR.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_21" href="#div1_21">XXI.</a></td> -<td>ARCHIE MAKES HIS PLANS.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_22" href="#div1_22">XXII.</a></td> -<td>MRS. BELSWIN CONSIDERS WAYS AND MEANS.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_23" href="#div1_23">XXIII.</a></td> -<td>BETTER LEAVE WELL ALONE.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_24" href="#div1_24">XXIV.</a></td> -<td>A MEMORY OF THE PAST.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_25" href="#div1_25">XXV.</a></td> -<td>SILAS PLAYS HIS LITTLE GAME.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_26" href="#div1_26">XXVI.</a></td> -<td>VAE VICTIS.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_27" href="#div1_27">XXVII.</a></td> -<td>THE CASE.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_28" href="#div1_28">XXVIII.</a></td> -<td>WHAT MRS. BELK FOUND.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_29" href="#div1_29">XXIX.</a></td> -<td>DANGER.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_30" href="#div1_30">XXX.</a></td> -<td>CLEVER DEFENCE.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_31" href="#div1_31">XXXI.</a></td> -<td>A TRAGIC SITUATION.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_32" href="#div1_32">XXXII.</a></td> -<td>NEWS FROM AUSTRALIA.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_33" href="#div1_33">XXXIII.</a></td> -<td>MR. DOMBRAIN SHOWS HIS TEETH.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_34" href="#div1_34">XXXIV.</a></td> -<td>IN OPEN COURT.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_35" href="#div1_35">XXXV.</a></td> -<td>EXPIATION.</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_36" href="#div1_36">XXXVI.</a></td> -<td>A MEMORY OF THE PAST.</td> -</tr></table> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>THE FEVER OF LIFE</h3> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_01" href="#div1Ref_01">CHAPTER I.</a></h4> -<h5>PINCHLER'S DOCKYARD.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-7pt">"Fashion for the nonce surrenders<br> -Giddy Mayfair's faded splendours,<br> -And with all her sons and daughters<br> -Hastens to health-giving waters;<br> -Rests when curfew bells are ringing,<br> -Rises when the lark is singing,<br> -Plays lawn tennis, flirts and idles,<br> -Laying snares for future bridals;<br> -Thus forgetting pleasures evil,<br> -In return to life primeval."</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>It was Toby Clendon who named it "Pinchler's Dockyard "--Toby Clendon, -young, handsome, and a trifle scampish, who wrote witty essays for -<i>The Satirist</i>, slashing criticisms for <i>The Bookworm</i>, and dainty -society verses for any journal which chose to pay for such poetical -effusions. A very cruel remark to make about Mrs. Pinchler's -respectable private hotel at Marsh-on-the-Sea; but then the truth is -always cruel, and Mr. Clendon proved the truth of his statement in -this wise--</p> - -<p>"A dockyard is a place where broken-down ships are repaired. Man, by -poetical license, is a ship on the ocean of life. Some broken-down -human ships under stress of circumstance put in to Pinchler's private -hotel for repair in the matter of bodily ailments. Pinchler's harbours -these broken-down human ships, therefore Pinchler's is a human -dockyard. Strike out the word human as redundant, and there you are, -Pinchler's Dockyard."</p> - -<p>A whimsical deduction, doubtless, yet by no means void of a certain -amount of truthful humour, as the guests at Pinchler's private hotel -were for the most part deficient as regards physical completeness. If -the lungs were healthy the liver was out of order. Granted that the -head was "all there," the legs were not, unless one leg counted as -two. Splendid physique, but something wrong with the internal organs. -Yes, certainly a good many human ships were undergoing repair under -the calculating eye of Mrs. Pinchler; and as her establishment was not -healthy enough for a hotel nor sickly enough for an hospital, Toby -Clendon's intermediate term "dockyard" fitted it exactly; so -Pinchler's Dockyard it was called throughout Marsh-on-the-Sea.</p> - -<p>It was a square red-brick house, built on a slight eminence, and -facing the salt sea breeze of the Channel. On the one side a pleasant -garden, on the other smooth green tennis lawns, and in front a mixture -of turf, of flower-beds, and of gravel, sloping down to the road which -divided it from the stony sea beach. A short distance away to the -right was Marsh-on-the-Sea, with its rows of gleaming white houses set -on the heights, while below was the red-roofed quaint old town, built -long before its rival above became famous as a watering-place. To the -left, undulating hills, clumps of trees, tall white cliffs, and here -and there pleasant country houses, showing themselves above the green -crests of their encircling woods. Add to this charming prospect a -brilliant blue sea, a soft wind filled with the salt smell of the -waters, and a sun tempered by intervening clouds, and it will be -easily seen that Marsh-on-the-Sea was a pleasantly situated place, and -Pinchler's Dockyard was one of the pleasantest houses in it.</p> - -<p>"And why," said Mr. Clendon, continuing an argument, "and why English -people want to go to the Riviera for beauty, when they have all this -side of the Channel to choose from is more than I can make out."</p> - -<p>It was just after luncheon, and the wrecks at present being repaired -in the dockyard were sunning themselves on the tennis lawn. Some were -reading novels, others were discussing their ailments, a few ladies -were working at some feminine embroidery, a few gentlemen were smoking -their after-dinner pipe, cigar, cigarette, as the case might be, and -all were enjoying themselves thoroughly in their different ways.</p> - -<p>Toby himself, arrayed in spotless white flannels, with a blue-ribboned -straw hat was lying ungracefully on the grass, smoking a cigarette, -and talking in an affectedly cynical vein to three ladies. There was -Mrs. Valpy, fat, ponderous and plethoric; Miss Thomasina Valpy, her -daughter, familiarly called Tommy, a charmingly pretty girl, small, -coquettish and very fascinating in manner. As a rule, men of -susceptible hearts fell in love with Tommy; but when they heard Mrs. -Valpy say that she was like Thomasina when young, generally retreated -in dismay, having a prophetic vision that this fragile, biscuit-china -damsel would resemble her mother when old, and as Mrs. Valpy--well -they never proposed, at all events.</p> - -<p>There was a third lady present, Miss Kaituna Pethram, who was staying -at Pinchler's with the Valpys, and without doubt she was very -handsome; so handsome, indeed, that Tommy's brilliant beauty paled -before her sombre loveliness. She was dark, unusually dark, with a -pale, olive-coloured skin, coils of splendid dusky hair, luminous dark -eyes, and clearly-cut features, which were not exactly European in -their outline. Neither was her Christian name European, and this being -taken in conjunction with her un-English look, led some people to -think she had African blood in her veins. In this supposition, -however, they were decidedly wrong, as there was no suggestion of the -negro in her rich beauty. Indian? not delicate enough, neither as -regards features nor figure. Spanish? no; none of the languor of the -Creole; then no doubt Italian; but then she lacked the lithe grace and -restless vivacity of the Latin race. In fact Miss Kaituna Pethram -puzzled every one. They were unable to "fix her," as the Americans -say, and consequently gave up the unguessable riddle of her birth in -despair.</p> - -<p>As a matter of fact, however, she was the descendant, in the third -generation, of that magnificent New Zealand race, now rapidly dying -out--the Maories, and the blending of the dusky Polynesian with the -fair European had culminated in the production of this strange flower -of two diverse stocks--neither wholly of the one nor of the other, -but a unique blending of both. Her great grandparents had been -full-blooded Maories, with uncivilised instincts and an inborn -preference for a savage life. Their daughter, also a full-blooded -Maori, being the daughter of a chief, had married a European settler, -and the offspring of this mixed marriage was Kaituna's mother, a -half-caste, inheriting the civilised culture of her father, and the -savage instincts of her mother. Kaituna was born of this half-caste -and an English father, therefore the civilised heredity prevailed; but -she still retained the semblance, in a minor degree, of her primeval -ancestry, and without doubt, though ameliorated by two generations of -European progenitors on the male side, there lurked in her nature the -ineradicable instincts of the savage.</p> - -<p>Of course, self-complacent Europeans, pure-blooded in themselves, -never argued out the matter in this wise, and were apt to look down on -this inheritor of Maori ancestry as "a nigger," but were decidedly -wrong in doing so, as the magnificent race that inhabits New Zealand -is widely removed from the African black. At all events, whatever they -might think, Kaituna Pethram was a uniquely beautiful girl, attractive -to a very great degree, and inspiring more admiration than the -undecided blondes and brunettes who moved in the same circle cared to -acknowledge. Toby Clendon was not in love with her, as he preferred -the saucy manner and delicate beauty of Miss Valpy, but Archie -Maxwell, who was the best looking young man at Pinchler's, had quite -lost his heart to this unique flower of womanhood, and the damsels of -Pinchler's resented this greatly. Mr. Maxwell, however, was at present -engaged in talking to some of them at a distance, and if his eyes did -wander now and then to where Clendon was playing Shepherd Paris to -goddesses three--Mrs. Valpy being Minerva in her own opinion--they did -their best to enchain his attention and keep him to themselves. -Kaituna herself did not mind, as she was not particularly taken with -Mr. Maxwell, and was quite content to lie lazily back in her chair -under the shelter of a large red sunshade and listen to Toby Clendon's -desultory conversation.</p> - -<p>It was a pleasant enough conversation in a frivolous fashion. Mr. -Clendon made startling statements regarding the world and its -inhabitants, Kaituna commented thereon. Tommy sparkled in an idle, -girlish way, and Mrs. Valpy, with sage maxims, culled from the -monotonous past of an uneventful life, supplied the busy element -requisite in all cases. Three of the party were young, the fourth was -gracefully old, so, juvenility predominating, the conversation rippled -along pleasantly enough.</p> - -<p>After the patriotic Toby had made his remark concerning the -superiority of things English over all the rest of the world, Kaituna -waved the banner of Maoriland, and laughed softly.</p> - -<p>"Ah! wait till you see New Zealand."</p> - -<p>"<i>Ultima Thule</i>," said Clendon classically. "Eh I why should I go -there, Miss Pethram?"</p> - -<p>"To see what nature can do in the way of beautiful landscape."</p> - -<p>"I am a domestic being, Miss Pethram, and find the domestic scenery of -England sufficiently beautiful to satisfy my artistic longings. New -Zealand, I have been told, is an uncivilised country, full of horrid -woods and wild beasts."</p> - -<p>"There are no wild beasts at all," replied Kaituna indignantly, "and -the bush is not horrid. As to it being uncivilised, that is the -mistake you English make."</p> - -<p>"Oh, the contempt in the term 'you English,'" interjected Toby, -impudently.</p> - -<p>"We have cities, railways, theatres, musical societies, shops, and -everything else necessary to make life pleasant. That is civilisation, -I suppose. We have also great plains, majestic mountains, splendid -rivers, undulating pasture lands and what not. This is uncivilised--if -you like to call it so. England is pretty--oh yes, very pretty, but -tame like a garden. One gets tired of always living in a garden. A -garden is nature's drawing-room. I don't say a word against England, -for I like it very much, but at times I feel stifled by the narrowness -of the place. England is very beautiful, yes; but New Zealand," -concluded Miss Pethram with conviction, "New Zealand is the most -beautiful place in the whole world."</p> - -<p>"My dear," said Mrs. Valpy in a patronising manner, "are you not going -a little too far? I've no doubt the place you come from is very nice, -very nice indeed, but to compare it with England is ridiculous. You -have no city, I think, like London. No, no! London is cosmopolitan, -yes--quite so."</p> - -<p>Having stated this plain truth, Mrs. Valpy looked round with a fat -smile of triumph and resumed her knitting, while Tommy dashed into' - the -conversation with slangy vivacity.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I say, you know, New Zealand's a place where you can have a high -old time, but London's the place for larks."</p> - -<p>"Why not the country," said Clendon drily, "the morning lark."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I don't mean that sort of lark," interrupted Tommy ingeniously, -"the evenin' lark; my style, you know. Waltzin', flirtin', talkin', -jolly rather."</p> - -<p>"You move in the highest circles, Tommy," said Kaituna, who was a -somewhat satirical damsel. "You drop your 'g's.'"</p> - -<p>"Better than dropping your 'h's'."</p> - -<p>"Or your money," said Toby, lighting a fresh cigarette. "I don't know -what we're all talking about."</p> - -<p>"I think," observed Mrs. Valpy in a geographical style, "we were -discussing the Islands of New Zealand."</p> - -<p>"Rippin' place," said Tommy gaily.</p> - -<p>"Thomasina, my dear," remarked her Johnsonian mamma, "I really do not -think that you are personally----"</p> - -<p>"Acquainted with the place! No! I'm not. But Kaituna has told me a -lot. Archie Maxwell has told me more----"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Maxwell?" interposed Kaituna, quickly. "Oh, yes! he said that he -had visited Auckland on his way to Sydney--but you can't tell New -Zealand from one city."</p> - -<p>"<i>Ex pede Herculem</i>," said the classical Toby, "which, being -translated means--by the foot shall ye know the head."</p> - -<p>"Auckland isn't the head of New Zealand. It was, but now Wellington is -the capital. The city of wooden match-boxes built in a draughty -situation."</p> - -<p>"How unpatriotic."</p> - -<p>"Oh, no, I'm not, Mr. Clendon. But I reserve my patriotism for -Dunedin?"</p> - -<p>"You mean Edinburgh.</p> - -<p>"I mean the new Edinburgh with the old name, not the old Edinburgh -with the new name."</p> - -<p>"Epigrammatic, decidedly. This is instructive, Miss Pethram. Do they -teach epigram in the schools of Dunedin?"</p> - -<p>"And why not? Do you think Oxford and Cambridge monopolise the -learning of nations? We also in Dunedin," concluded Kaituna proudly, -"have an university."</p> - -<p>"To teach the young idea how to shoot--delightful."</p> - -<p>"But I thought there was no game to shoot," said Tommy wickedly.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Valpy reproved the trio for their frivolous conversation.</p> - -<p>"You are all talking sad nonsense."</p> - -<p>"On the contrary, gay nonsense," retorted Clendon lightly; "but I -foresee in this badinage the elements of an article for <i>The -Satirist</i>. Miss Pethram, I am going to use you as copy. Tell me all -about yourself."</p> - -<p>"To be published as an essay, and ticketed 'The New Pocahontas.'"</p> - -<p>"Perhaps," replied the essayist evasively, "for you are a kind of -nineteenth century Pocahontas. You belong to the children of Nature."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I do," said Kaituna, quickly; "and I'm proud of it. My father -went out to New Zealand a long time ago, and there married my mother, -who was the daughter of a Maori mother. My grandmother was the child -of a chief--a real Pocahontas."</p> - -<p>"Not quite; Pocahontas was a chieftainess in her own right."</p> - -<p>"And died at Wapping, didn't she?" said Mrs. Valpy, placidly. "Of -course the dark races always give way to the superiority of the -white."</p> - -<p>Kaituna looked indignantly at this fat, flabby woman, who spoke so -contemptuously of her Maori ancestors, who were certainly superior to -Mrs. Valpy from a physical point of view, and very probably her equal -mentally in some ways. It was no use, however, arguing with Mrs. Valpy -over such a nice point, as she was firmly intrenched behind her -insular egotism, and would not have understood the drift of the -argument, with the exception that she was a white, and therefore -greatly superior to a black. Toby saw the indignant flash in her eyes, -and hastened to divert the chance of trouble by saying the first thing -that came into his mind.</p> - -<p>"Is your mother in England, Miss Pethram?"</p> - -<p>"My mother is dead."</p> - -<p>"Oh! I beg--I beg your pardon," said Toby, flustering a little at his -awkwardness: "I mean your father."</p> - -<p>"My father," replied Kaituna, cheerfully. "Oh, he is out in New -Zealand again. You know, we lived out there until a year ago. Then my -father, by the death of his elder brother, became Sir Rupert Pethram, -so he brought me home. We always call England home in the Colonies. He -had to go out again about business; so he left me in Mrs. Valpy's -charge."</p> - -<p>"Delighted to have you, my dear," murmured the old lady, blinking her -eyes in the sunshine like an owl. "You see, Mr. Clendon, we are near -neighbours of Sir Rupert's down in Berkshire."</p> - -<p>"Oh!" said Clendon, raising himself on his elbow with a look of -curiosity in his eyes, "that is my county. May I ask what particular -part you inhabit?"</p> - -<p>"Near Henley."</p> - -<p>"Why, I lived near there also."</p> - -<p>"What," cried Tommy, with great surprise, "can it be that you are a -relative of Mr. Clendon, the Vicar of Deswarth?"</p> - -<p>"Only his son."</p> - -<p>"The young man who would not become a curate?"</p> - -<p>"It didn't suit me," said Toby, apologetically; "I'm far too gay for a -curate. It's a mistake putting a square peg into a round hole, you -know; and I make a much better pressman than a preacher."</p> - -<p>"It is a curious thing we never met you, Mr. Clendon," observed Mrs. -Valpy, heavily; "but we have only been at 'The Terraces' for two -years."</p> - -<p>"Oh, and I've been away from the parental roof for five or six years. -I do not wonder at never meeting you, but how strange we should meet -here. Coincidences occur in real life as well as in novels, I see."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Maxwell told me he met a man in London the other day whom he had -last seen in Japan," said Kaituna, smiling.</p> - -<p>"Maxwell is a wandering Jew--an engineering Cain."</p> - -<p>"Hush! hush!" said Mrs. Valpy, shocked like a good church-woman, at -any reference to the Bible in light conversation. "Mr. Maxwell is a -very estimable young man."</p> - -<p>"I called him Cain in a figurative sense only," replied Toby, coolly; -"but if you object to that name, let us call him Ulysses."</p> - -<p>"Among the sirens," finished Kaituna, mischievously.</p> - -<p>Tommy caught the allusion, and laughed rudely. Confident in her own -superiority regarding beauty, she was scornful of the attempts of the -so-called sirens to secure the best-looking man in the place, so took -a great delight in drawing into her own net any masculine fish that -was likely to be angled for by any other girl. She called it fun, the -world called it flirtation, and her enemies called it coquetry; and -Toby Clendon, although not her enemy, possibly agreed with the -appropriateness of the term. But then he was her lover; and lovers are -discontented if they don't get the object of their affections all to -themselves.</p> - -<p>"The sirens!" repeated Miss Valpy, scornfully. "What, with voices like -geese? What humbug! Let us take Archie Maxwell Ulysses away from the -sirens, Kaituna."</p> - -<p>"No, no, don't do that!" said Kaituna with a sudden rush of colour; -"it's a shame."</p> - -<p>"What! depriving them of their big fish? Not at all. It's greedy of -them to be so selfish. I'll call him. Mr. Maxwell!"</p> - -<p>"It's very chilly here," said Kaituna, rising to her feet. "Mr. -Clendon, my shawl, please. Thank you I'm going inside."</p> - -<p>"Because of Mr. Maxwell?" asked Miss Valpy, maliciously.</p> - -<p>"No. I'm expecting some letters from Mr. Dombrain. Oh, here is Mr. -Maxwell. <i>Au revoir</i>," and Miss Pethram walked quickly away towards -the house.</p> - -<p>Maxwell having extricated himself from the company of the sirens, who -looked after their late captive with vengeful eyes, saw Kaituna -depart, and hesitated between following her or obeying the invitation -of Miss Valpy. His heart said "Go there," the voice of Tommy said -"Come here," and the unfortunate young man hesitated which to obey. -The lady saw his hesitation, and, purposely to vex Mr. Clendon, -settled the question at once.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Maxwell, come here. I want you to play lawn-tennis."</p> - -<p>"Certainly, Miss Valpy," said Maxwell, with sulky civility.</p> - -<p>"Why, I asked you to play twice this afternoon, and you refused," -cried Clendon, in some anger.</p> - -<p>"Well, I've changed my mind But you can play also, if you like."</p> - -<p>"No, thank you. I've--I've got an engagement."</p> - -<p>Tommy moved close to the young man and laughed.</p> - -<p>"You've got a very cross face."</p> - -<p>At this Clendon laughed also, and his cross face cleared.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I'll be delighted to play."</p> - -<p>"And what about Miss Pethram?" asked Maxwell, rather anxiously.</p> - -<p>"Miss Pethram has gone inside to await the arrival of the post."</p> - -<p>"Isn't she coming out again?"</p> - -<p>"I think not."</p> - -<p>"If you will excuse me, Miss Valpy, I won't play just at present."</p> - -<p>"Oh, never mind."</p> - -<p>So Maxwell stalked away in a very bad temper with himself, with Miss -Pethram, and with everything else. In any one but a lover it would -have been sulks, but in the <i>ars amoris</i> it is called despair.</p> - -<p>Tommy held her racket like a guitar, and, strumming on it with her -fingers, hummed a little tune--a vulgar little tune which she had -picked up from a common street boy--</p> -<div style="margin-left:10%; font-size: smaller"> -<br> -<p class="t1">"Tho' I'm an earl,</p> -<p class="t2">And she's a girl,</p> -<p class="t1">Far, far below my level,</p> -<p class="t2">Oh, Mary Jane,</p> -<p class="t2">You give me pain,</p> -<p class="t1">You wicked little----"</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>"Thomasina!" cried the scandalised Mrs. Valpy, and Thomasina laughed.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_02" href="#div1Ref_02">CHAPTER II.</a></h4> -<h5>WANTED, A CHAPERON.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1">"We are told in stories olden<br> -Dragons watched the apples golden,</p> -<p class="t2">Quick to send a thief to Hades.</p> -<p class="t1">Now no fruit the world-tree ladens,<br> -Apples gold are dainty maidens,</p> -<p class="t2">And the dragons are old ladies."</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>After dinner--a meal cooked, conducted, and eaten on strictly -digestive principles--most of the inmates of Pinchler's retired to -bed. Sleep was necessary to the well-being of these wrecks of -humanity, so those who could sleep went to their repose with joyful -hearts, and those who could not, put off the evil hour precluding a -restless night by going to the drawing-room for a little music.</p> - -<p>Here they sat in melancholy rows round the room, comparing notes as to -their physical sensations, and recommending each other patent -medicines. Some of the younger people sang songs and played popular -airs on the out-of-tune piano furnished by Pinchler's. During the -intervals between the songs scraps of curious conversation could be -heard somewhat after this fashion--</p> - -<p>"There's nothing like a glass of hot water in the morning."</p> - -<p>"Dry toast, mind; butter is rank poison."</p> - -<p>"Rub the afflicted part gently and breathe slowly."</p> - -<p>"Put a linseed poultice at the nape of the neck."</p> - -<p>With such light and instructive conversation did the wrecks beguile -their leisure hours, keeping watchful eyes on the clock so as not to -miss taking their respective medicines at the right times. Mrs. -Pinchler, a dry, angular woman with a glassy eye and a fixed smile, -revolved round the drawing-room at intervals, asking every one how -they felt.</p> - -<p>"Better, Mrs. Tandle? Yes, I thought that syrup would do you good--it -soothes the coats of the stomach. Miss Pols, you do look yellow. Let -me recommend a glass of hot water in the morning. Mr. Spons, if you -lie down on the sofa I'm sure it will do you good. Oh, are you going -to play, Miss Valpy? Something quiet, please. Music is such a good -digestive."</p> - -<p>Tommy, however, was not a young lady who could play quiet tunes, her -performance on the piano being of the muscular order. She therefore -favoured the company with a noisy piece of the most advanced school, -which had no melody, although full of contrapuntal devices. Having -shaken every one's nerves with this trying performance, she glided off -into a series of popular waltzes, mostly of the scrappy order, in -which she sandwiched hymn tunes between music-hall melodies. The -wrecks liked this style of thing, as they could all beat time with -their feet, and when it was finished said waltzes were charming, but -not so fine as "Batch's" passion music, of which they knew nothing, -not even how to pronounce his name correctly.</p> - -<p>"Bach!" echoed Tommy contemptuously. "Oh, he's an old fossil! -Offenbach's more in my line. Oui! You bet! Sapristi! Vive la -bagatelle!"</p> - -<p>The company did not understand French, so suffered this observation to -pass in discreet silence, but Kaituna laughed. She was sitting in a -corner by herself, with a look of impatience on her face, for she was -expecting a letter and the post was late.</p> - -<p>"Kaituna," cried Tommy, attracted by the laugh, "why are you sitting -in the corner like a graven image? Come out and sing."</p> - -<p>"No, I don't want to. I'm waiting for my letter."</p> - -<p>"Hasn't it arrived yet?" said Miss Valpy, skipping across the room. -"I'd give it to that Dombrain thing if I were you. Dombrain! What a -name! Who is he?"</p> - -<p>"My father's solicitor."</p> - -<p>"Oh, in the law and the profits? I don't mean biblically, but -commercially. But, I say, don't keep thinking of your letter, or it -won't come. The watched postman never boils."</p> - -<p>"What nonsense you talk!"</p> - -<p>"I can't help it, dear. My brains leave me when there are no male -things in the room."</p> - -<p>"There's Mr. Spons."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I don't bother about him. He's not a man; he's a medicine bottle. -Hark! I hear footmarks approaching on horseback. It is the man. Now, -will you take Mr. Clendon and I Mr. Maxwell, or will you take Mr. -Maxwell and I Mr. Clendon?"</p> - -<p>"I don't want either," said Kaituna hastily.</p> - -<p>"Now that's ungrateful, especially when Mr. Maxwell is such a dear. -'Oh, that heaven would send me such a man!'--Shakespeare, Kaituna, so -don't look indignant. You can take Archie, and I'll satisfy myself -with Toby."</p> - -<p>"You shouldn't call men by their Christian names, Thomasina."</p> - -<p>"Don't say that; it sounds like 'ma. I only call them by their -Christian names to you. I wouldn't do it to their faces."</p> - -<p>"I hope not."</p> - -<p>"How proper you are! Behold the male sex are at the door! I can smell -the tobacco on their clothes."</p> - -<p>The rattle of the lively damsel was put an end to by the entry of the -gentlemen, headed by Maxwell and Clendon, the latter of whom Miss -Valpy bore off at once to the piano to make him sing, turn over her -music, and make himself generally useful. Maxwell, however, went -straight across to Kaituna, and held out a newspaper.</p> - -<p>"This is yours, Miss Pethram," he said, seating himself beside her, "I -knew you were anxious about the post, so I waited downstairs till it -came."</p> - -<p>"Was there no letter?" said Kaituna, in some dismay.</p> - -<p>"No; nothing but that <i>Telegraph</i>."</p> - -<p>"Oh, there maybe something marked in it," she said quietly. "Excuse me -a moment while I look."</p> - -<p>Maxwell bowed and sat watching her as she tore the cover off the paper -and opened the rustling leaves. He had only known this girl a -fortnight, yet within that time had contrived to fall deeply in love -with her. It was not her beauty, although, man-like, he naturally -admired a pretty woman. It was not her charming manner, fascinating as -it was in every way. It was not her clever brain, her bright -conversation, her perfect taste in dress. No. It was that -indescribable something which she had about her to attract him in a -greater degree than any other woman he had ever known. What that -something is no man knows until he has fallen in love, and then he -feels it, but cannot describe his sensations. Scientists, no doubt, -would call it animal magnetism; poets would call it love; scoffers -would term it sensuality. But whatever scientists, poets, or scoffers -choose to call it, the thing is unnameable, indescribable, and is the -necessary concomitant of a happy marriage.</p> - -<p>It was this indescribable feeling that had sprung up suddenly between -those two young people. Kaituna also felt drawn to Maxwell, but in a -lesser degree, for no matter what cynics may say about the frivolity -of women, they are certainly less inflammable than men. A pretty woman -knows her power to attract the opposite sex, and uses it daily, mostly -for amusement; therefore when her time does come to feel the genuine -pangs of love, she is more able to govern and control her feelings -than a man who, as a rule, simply let's himself go. So this was -exactly how the case stood between these two lovers. Maxwell felt that -Kaituna was the one woman in the world for him, and never attempted to -suppress his passion in any way. He allowed himself to be so entirely -dominated by it, that it soon became his master, and all his days and -nights were given over to dreams of this beautiful dark woman from a -distant isle of the sea. On the other hand, Kaituna felt that she -loved him, but controlling herself with feminine dexterity, never let -her infatuated lover see that his passion was responded to in any way. -Had he tried to go away she would speedily have lured him back by -means of those marvellous womanly arts, the trick of which no man -knoweth; but the poor love-lorn wretch was so abjectly submissive that -she coolly planted her conquering foot on his neck and indulged in a -little catlike play with this foolish mouse.</p> - -<p>He was a handsome fellow too, Archie Maxwell, with his fresh-coloured -face, his yellow hair and moustache, his blue eyes, and his stalwart -figure. A lover any girl would be proud to have at her feet, as -Kaituna undoubtedly was, though the woman predominated in her too much -to allow her to let him see her approval. Poor! yes, he was poor, -certainly. An engineer, who wandered over half the world building -bridges and railways, and all kind of extraordinary things. Still, he -was young, and engineering is a money making profession, so Kaituna -positively determined that should he ask her to marry him, she would -consent. But her father--well, he was thousands of miles away, and -when he returned she would no doubt gain his approval; so at present -she surrendered herself entirely to this new delicious feeling, and -Ulysses, tangled in the snares of Calypso, forgot everything save the -face of the conquering nymph.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Calypso read the paper while Ulysses watched her, and they -both sat silent while every one round them talked loudly. Tommy was -playing a nigger minstrel tune, and Toby, leaning on the piano, was -chatting to her gaily, evidently on the fair way to become as much -enamoured of his nymph as this other sighing rover.</p> - -<p>"Well, have you found what you wanted?" asked Maxwell, as the lady -looked up with a bright smile.</p> - -<p>"Yes! It is marked with a blue pencil, and as you have been so kind in -playing postman, you can read it."</p> - -<p>Archie did so.</p> - -<p>"Wanted, a companion for a young lady. Apply by letter, Dombrain, 13, -Chintler Lane, City."</p> - -<p>"Short and sweet," he said, handing the paper back, with a puzzled -look on his face; "but I don't understand it."</p> - -<p>"It's easily explained," replied Miss Pethram, composedly. "Mr. -Dombrain is my father's solicitor, and is advertising for a -chaperon--for me."</p> - -<p>"For you! But you have Mrs. Valpy."</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Valpy is a dear old lady, but she is--Mrs. Valpy."</p> - -<p>"It is a very serious thing to advertise in a paper for a chaperon. -You never know the kind of person you may get."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Dombrain will."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Dombrain may not be infallible," retorted Archie, feeling rather -angry, he knew not why, at the repetition of the name. "If your father -wished you to have a chaperon, why didn't he ask Mrs. Valpy to -recommend some one."</p> - -<p>Kaituna laughed.</p> - -<p>"I'm sure I can't tell you! Papa has gone away to New Zealand on -business, and asked Mrs. Valpy to look after me in the meantime. -He left instructions with Mr. Dombrain--in whom he has full -confidence--that I was to be provided with a companion, so I suppose -Mr. Dombrain's only idea of getting one suitable is through the -newspapers."</p> - -<p>"I think it's a pity."</p> - -<p>"Oh, not at all! Don't be afraid of me, Mr. Maxwell; I assure you I -can take excellent care of myself. All colonial girls can. They are -more self-reliant than English young ladies. If I don't like the -companion chosen for me by Mr. Dombrain, I'll easily get rid of her."</p> - -<p>"But if Mrs. Valpy recommended you someone who could introduce you -into society."</p> - -<p>"Some pauper peeress I suppose you mean," said Kaituna, equitably. -"No, I wouldn't care for that at all. I don't wish to go into society -until my father comes home again. Then it will be easy, for the -Pethrams are an old family, and have sisters and cousins and aunts -everywhere. When I wish to see the world, I've no doubt papa will find -some one to present me at Court; but at present I want a companion to -talk to. I say a chaperon, but I mean a companion."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I wish!--I wish!" stuttered Archie, growing red; "I wish----"</p> - -<p>He stopped short, this wise young man, for he was on the verge of -saying something very foolish, which might have jeopardised his -chances with the Maori maiden, but the fruit was not yet ripe, so with -wisdom beyond his years, he refrained from finishing his sentence.</p> - -<p>"You've wished three times," said Miss Pethram calmly. "What is it -about?"</p> - -<p>"The wish?"</p> - -<p>"Yes!"</p> - -<p>"I wish that you may get a good chaperon."</p> - -<p>"So do I, but I suppose they are as difficult to get as anything else. -I'm afraid I'll be very hard to please. Of course, it's a difficult -thing to choose a person to live with."</p> - -<p>"Even in marriage."</p> - -<p>Kaituna blushed, and folded up the paper in a somewhat embarrassed -fashion.</p> - -<p>"Marriage is a lottery," she said at length, with an attempt at -lightness.</p> - -<p>"I think I've heard that remark before."</p> - -<p>"Very likely. It's hard to say anything original nowadays."</p> - -<p>"I suppose," said Archie, after a pause, "that when your chaperon is -chosen by Mr. Dombrain, she will come down here."</p> - -<p>"Oh, dear, no. I'm going home next week with the Valpys."</p> - -<p>"Home?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. To Thornstream, near Deswarth, in Berkshire. Papa's house, you -know."</p> - -<p>"And I'll never see you again," he said dismally.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I don't know; the world is small."</p> - -<p>Maxwell groaned in vexation of spirit, thinking that the heart of this -desirable maiden was as the flint which is hard; and the maiden -herself, having thus worried her mouse, consoled it in a pleasant -fashion.</p> - -<p>"Besides, Berkshire is not very far from London."</p> - -<p>"I know that, of course, but I have no acquaintances in Deswarth."</p> - -<p>"Oh, fie! What about Mrs. Valpy!"</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Valpy! of course, I quite forgot Mrs. Valpy," said Archie, -determined to pay court at once to the old lady. "You know I like Mrs. -Valpy."</p> - -<p>"Since when?" asked Kaituna, mischievously.</p> - -<p>Archie took out his watch gravely, and looked at it.</p> - -<p>"To be exact, since a minute ago."</p> - -<p>"Oh, the craft of the male sex."</p> - -<p>"The end justifies the means," quoted Archie, Jesuitically; "but oh, I -say----" He stopped, and a look of alarm overspread his face.</p> - -<p>"What's the matter?"</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid I won't be able to come down to Berkshire."</p> - -<p>"Why not?"</p> - -<p>"Because I have to go to South America next month."</p> - -<p>Kaituna froze instantly, and annihilated him with a glacial look, at -which he quailed visibly.</p> - -<p>"I can't help it, Miss Pethram," he said piteously, "don't look at me -like that."</p> - -<p>"I'm not looking at you like that," retorted Miss Pethram vengefully. -"I--I hope you'll have a pleasant voyage."</p> - -<p>"I won't! I hate the sea."</p> - -<p>"Then why go?"</p> - -<p>"Needs must, when the devil drives."</p> - -<p>"That's very coarse."</p> - -<p>"But it's very true. I beg your pardon, really; but, you know, it is -hard to have to go prancing about the world when you don't want to."</p> - -<p>"How long will you be out in South America?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know. Perhaps for ever, if I get yellow fever."</p> - -<p>"I wish you wouldn't talk like that."</p> - -<p>"Man is mortal," said Maxwell, with gloomy relish.</p> - -<p>"Man is silly," retorted Kaituna rising to her feet, "so I'm going to -ask Mr. Clendon to sing a song."</p> - -<p>"You never ask me!" said the young man reproachfully.</p> - -<p>"Oh! can engineers sing?"</p> - -<p>Maxwell said a naughty word under his breath, and walked meekly to the -piano beside her. Toby was in possession of the instrument, and was -giving Miss Valpy selections from the latest London burlesque.</p> - -<p>"This is the dance, you know," he said playing a breakdown; "and then -comes the song 'Skip the gutter daddy, dear,'--a rippin' song."</p> - -<p>"Sounds like it," said Maxwell, caustically; "so refined."</p> - -<p>"Well, you needn't talk my boy, I've seen you enjoying it immensely."</p> - -<p>Kaituna directed another look of scorn at the unhappy Maxwell, which -inspired him with a vehement desire to break Toby's head. He -refrained, however, and smiled in a sickly manner.</p> - -<p>"I prefer Shakespeare," he said at length, telling the best lie he -could under the circumstances.</p> - -<p>"Dry old stick," observed Tommy, lightly. "There's no fun in him."</p> - -<p>"But he's so high class."</p> - -<p>"Listen to the virtuous one," said Clendon, scoffingly. "Oh, my -gracious! that my boy should talk such jargon. You don't feel ill, do -you, Archie?"</p> - -<p>"No, I don't," retorted Archie, in a rage, seeing that Kaituna was -enjoying this little dialogue with great zest. "I wish you'd be quiet -and sing something."</p> - -<p>"How can I be quiet and sing also?"</p> - -<p>"Dosing, Mr. Clendon," said Kaituna, with a kind flash of her -beautiful eyes at the happy bard.</p> - -<p>Maxwell suppressed a second naughty word and sat down in dismal -silence.</p> - -<p>"What shall I sing?" asked Toby, running his fingers over the piano.</p> - -<p>"Something funny."</p> - -<p>"No, no! Something sentimental," said Kaituna, in a commanding tone, -and sat down beside Miss Valpy.</p> - -<p>Toby cleared his throat, looked up at the ceiling for inspiration, and -laughed.</p> - -<p>"I'll sing a betwixt and between thing."</p> - -<p>So he did.</p> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:7px">"She is the dearest of girls I confess,</p> -<p class="t2">Her milliners' bills are a sight to see;</p> -<p class="t1">Dearest of girls in the matter of dress,</p> -<p class="t2">Dearest of girls in the world to me.</p> -<p class="t1">I lost my heart, but I lost my gold,</p> -<p class="t2">And hearts without gold are romantic trash;</p> -<p class="t1">Her love was a thing to be bought and sold,</p> -<p class="t1">But I couldn't purchase for want of cash.</p> -<br> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:7px">"Now she is spouse to an aged man,</p> -<p class="t2">He's eighty-five and a trifle frail;</p> -<p class="t1">Soon he'll finish his life's brief span,</P> -<p class="t2">Then she'll look for another male.</p> -<p class="t1">Ah! but love comes not twice in our life,</p> -<p class="t2">Cupid for ever has passed us by;</p> -<p class="t1">So if she asked me to make her my wife,</p> -<p class="t2">I would not marry her, no not I."</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>"Oh!" said Tommy, when the song was ended, "so that's your idea of a -woman's love."</p> - -<p>"Not mine--the world's."</p> - -<p>"And what about the love which cannot be bought?" asked Kaituna.</p> - -<p>"Is there such a love?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, cynic," growled Maxwell in disgust; "true love is not a saleable -article. The woman who truly loves a man," here his eye rested on -Kaituna, "lets nothing stand in the way of that love. She gives up -rank, fortune, everything for his sake."</p> - -<p>"And what does she receive in return?" demanded Miss Pethram, -innocently.</p> - -<p>"The true joy which arises from the union of two loving hearts."</p> - -<p>"Very pastoral indeed," said Toby, lightly. "Chloe and Corydon in -Arcadia. It once existed, indeed, but now----"</p> - -<p>"But now," finished Kaituna, rather tired of the discussion, "it is -time to retire."</p> - -<p>Both the gentlemen protested at the ladies going away so early, but -Kaituna remained firm, and was supported by Tommy, who said she felt -very tired.</p> - -<p>"Not of us, I hope!" said Toby, meekly.</p> - -<p>"Thyself hath said it," she replied, holding out her hand. -"Good-night."</p> - -<p>When they were leaving the room, Maxwell, who was escorting Kaituna, -bent over and whispered in her ear--</p> - -<p>"I won't go to South America."</p> - -<p>"South America," she repeated, with a pretended look of surprise, "Oh! -yes, of course. I forgot all about it, I assure you. Good-night."</p> - -<p>She was gone before he could say a word, leaving him overcome with -anger at the flippant manner in which she spoke. Was she in jest or -earnest. He could not tell. Perhaps she said one thing and meant -another. He could not tell. Perchance--oh, women were all alike, they -liked to put their victim on a sharp hook and watch him wriggle -painfully to be free.</p> - -<p>"She's a coquette!"</p> - -<p>"Who? Miss Valpy?" asked Toby, overhearing.</p> - -<p>"No, Miss Pethram; but I dare say her friend's no better."</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid not!" sighed Mr. Clendon, dismally; "it's six of one and -half-a-dozen of the other. But what ails my Archibald? His brow is -overcast."</p> - -<p>"Oh! rubbish," growled Archibald, rudely; "come and smoke."</p> - -<p>The smoking-room was quite empty, so the young men established -themselves in two comfortable armchairs, and devoted their energies to -the consumption of tobacco. Clendon preferred the frivolous cigarette, -but Archie produced with loving care a well coloured meerschaum, which -had been his companion for many years.</p> - -<p>"This is a travelled pipe," he said to his friend when the blue smoke -was rolling in clouds from his mouth, "a very Ulysses of pipes. It has -been in far countries and knoweth the ways of the stranger."</p> - -<p>"Good idea for a story," observed Toby, who was always on the look-out -for copy. "'The Tale of a Pipe in ten Fills.' Egad! I think it ought -to go capitally. It's so difficult to get an idea nowadays."</p> - -<p>Maxwell, luxuriating in his pipe, grunted in a manner which might have -meant anything, so Toby promptly attacked him on his want of manners.</p> - -<p>"You might speak to a fellow when a fellow speaks to you! I tell you -what, Archie, you've changed for the worse since we were at school -together. Then you were a gregarious animal, and now you are an -unsociable beast."</p> - -<p>"Don't call names, my good man! I can't help being quiet. My thoughts -are far away."</p> - -<p>"Pish! not so very far."</p> - -<p>"Well, perhaps not."</p> - -<p>"Have you asked her to marry you?"</p> - -<p>"Hardly! I've only known her a fortnight, and besides, I've got no -money."</p> - -<p>"No; but she has!"</p> - -<p>"I don't want to live on my wife. I'm going away to South America."</p> - -<p>"Never to see her again, I suppose," said Toby, ironically; "don't -talk nonsense, Archie. You're madly in love with Miss Pethram and -don't want to lose sight of her."</p> - -<p>"True! but I must when she goes away from here."</p> - -<p>"Not a bit of it. Listen, I will be your good angel."</p> - -<p>Maxwell laughed grimly at the idea.</p> - -<p>"I will be your good angel," repeated Toby, imperturbably, "and take -you down with me to Deswarth."</p> - -<p>"To your father's house? I thought you weren't friends with your -governor."</p> - -<p>"I am not," acknowledged Clendon with touching candour; "he wanted me -to become a churchman, and I didn't care about it. We had words and -parted. Now, however, I've won a success in literature, I'll go back -and ask the pater to kill the domestic veal. You I will bring with me -to the banquet, and as Miss Pethram lives near you will be able to see -her, woo her, wed her, and be happy ever afterwards."</p> - -<p>Archie made no reply, but smoked furiously; and Toby, having delivered -himself of what he had to say, also subsided into silence.</p> - -<p>After a pause said Maxwell--</p> - -<p>"Toby."</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"I'll come."</p> - -<p>"What about South America?"</p> - -<p>"D---- South America."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_03" href="#div1Ref_03">CHAPTER III.</a></h4> -<h5>THE WOMAN WITH THE FIERCE EYES.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:15%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t4">You are a snake,</p> -<p class="t5">For the sly beast lies</p> -<p class="t4">Coiled in the brake</p> -<p class="t5">Of your sleepy eyes,</p> -<p class="t0">Lo, at your glances my weak soul dies.</p> -<br> -<p class="t4">Woman you are</p> -<p class="t5">With a face so fair;</p> -<p class="t4">But the snake must mar</p> -<p class="t5">All the woman there.</p> -<p class="t0">Your eyes affright, but your smiles ensnare.</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>Such a poor room it was, with a well-worn carpet, shabby furniture, a -dingy mirror over the fireplace, and a mean sordid look everywhere. -The bright sunshine, pouring in through the dirty windows, showed up -the weak points of the apartment in the most relentless manner. Great -folding-doors at one side half open, showing an untidy bedroom beyond, -and on the other side the many-paned windows, veiled by ragged -curtains, looked out into Jepple Street, Bloomsbury.</p> - -<p>There was a shaky round table in the centre of the apartment, on which -was spread a doubtfully clean cloth, and on it the remains of a very -poor breakfast. An egg half eaten, a teacup half filled, and a portion -of bread on the plate showed that the person for whom this meal was -provided had not finished, and, indeed, she was leaning on the table -with her elbows, looking at a copy of the <i>Daily Telegraph</i>.</p> - -<p>A noticeable woman this, frowning down on the newspaper with tightly -closed lips, and one whom it would be unwise to offend.. After a pause -she pushed the paper away, arose to her feet, and marching across to -the dingy mirror, surveyed herself long and anxiously. The face that -looked out at her from the glass was a remarkable one.</p> - -<p>Dark, very dark, with fierce black eyes under strongly marked -eyebrows, masses of rough dark hair carelessly twisted up into a heavy -coil, a thin-lipped, flexible mouth and a general contour of face not -at all English. She had slender brown hands, which looked powerful in -spite of their delicacy, and a good figure, though just now it was -concealed by a loose dressing-gown of pale yellow silk much -discoloured and stained. With her strange barbaric face, her gaudy -dress, Mrs. Belswin was certainly a study for a painter.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin, so she called herself; but she looked more like a savage -queen than a civilised woman. She should have been decked with -coloured beads, with fantastic feathers, with barbaric bracelets, with -strangely striped skins, as it was she was an anomaly, an incongruity, -in the poor room of poor lodging-house, staring at her fierce face in -the dingy mirror.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Munser, who kept the establishment, acknowledged to her -intimate friend, Mrs. Pegs, that the sight of this lady had given -her a turn; and certainly no one could blame cockney Mrs. Munser, for -of all the strange people that might be seen in London, this lithe, -savage-looking woman was surely the strangest. Indian jungles, African -forests, South American pampas, she would have been at home there, -having all the appearance and fire of a woman of the tropics; but to -see her in dull, smoky London--it was extraordinary.</p> - -<p>After scrutinising herself for a time, she began to talk aloud in a -rich full voice, which was broken every now and then by a guttural -note which betrayed the savage; yet she chose her words well, she -spoke easily, and rolled her words in a soft labial manner suggestive -of the Italian language. Yet she was not an Italian.</p> - -<p>"Twenty years ago," she muttered savagely, "nearly twenty years ago, -and I have hardly ever seen her. I must do so now, when Providence has -put this chance into my hands. They can't keep a mother from her -child. God's laws are stronger than those of man. Rupert would put the -ocean between us if he could, but now he's in New Zealand, so for a -time I will be able to see her, to speak to her, to hold her in my -arms; not as her mother,--no, not as her mother,--but as her paid -servant."</p> - -<p>She turned away from the mirror with a savage gesture, and walked -slowly up and down the room with the soft sinuous movement of a -panther. Her soft silk dress rustled as she walked, and her splendid -hair, released by her sudden movement, fell like a black veil over her -shoulders. She thrust the tresses back from her temples with impatient -hands, and her face looked forth from the cloud of hair, dark, sombre, -and savage, with a flash of the fierce eyes and vicious click of the -strong white teeth.</p> - -<p>"Curses on the man who took me away from her. I did not care for him, -with his yellow hair and pink face. Why did I go? Why was I such a -fool? I left her, my own child, for him, and went out into the world -an outcast, for his sake. God! God! Why are women such fools?"</p> - -<p>For a moment she stood with uplifted hands, as if awaiting an answer; -but none came, so, letting her arms fall, she walked back to her -chair, and lighting a cigarette, placed it in her mouth.</p> - -<p>"I daren't use a pipe here," she said, with a discordant laugh, "it -would not be respectable. But Spanish women smoke cigarettes, Russian -women smoke cigarettes, so why should not the Maori woman smoke them -also. Respectable, eh! Well, I'm going to be respectable now, when -I've answered this."</p> - -<p>This was an advertisement in the paper, which read as follows--</p> - -<p>"Wanted, a companion for a young lady. Apply by letter, Dombrain, 13, -Chintler Lane, City."</p> - -<p>"Apply by letter," muttered Mrs. Belswin, with a sneer. "Indeed I -won't, Alfred Dombrain. I'll apply in person, and I think I'll obtain -the situation. I'll hold it, too--hold it till Rupert returns, and -then--and then----"</p> - -<p>She sprang to her feet and blew a cloud of smoke with a mocking laugh. -"And then, my husband, I'll match myself against you."</p> - -<br> -<p class="center" style="font-size:smaller">"Salve dimora casta e pura."</p> -<br> -<p>The singer was coming slowly upstairs, and, as he finished the line, -knocked at the door.</p> - -<p>"Stephano," said Mrs. Belswin, with a frown, glancing at the clock; -"what can he want so early? Avanti."</p> - -<p>The door opened and Stephano, the singer, a tall, lithe Italian, with -a beaming smile, presented himself and burst out into a torrent of -greeting.</p> - -<p>"Buon Giorno cara mia! Ah, my beautiful Lucrezia! my splendid Norma! -how like an angel you look this morning. Gran dio che grazia. Signora, -I kiss your hand."</p> - -<p>He dropped on one knee in an affectedly theatrical manner and pressed -his lips to Mrs. Belswin's hand, upon which she twitched it away with -a frown, and spoke roughly to her adorer.</p> - -<p>"What do you want, Ferrari?"</p> - -<p>"Niente! niente! but to pay a visit of ceremony."</p> - -<p>"It's not customary to pay visits of ceremony at ten o'clock in the -morning. I wish you would go away. I'm busy."</p> - -<p>"Che donna," said the Italian. With a gesture of admiration, and -taking off his hat, sat down on the sofa.</p> - -<p>Stephano Ferrari was a handsome man in a wicked way. He was tall and -slender, with a dark, expressive face, white teeth, which gleamed -under his heavy black moustache, wonderfully fine eyes, and a bland, -ingratiating manner. English he spoke remarkably well, having been for -many years away from his native land, but had a habit of interlarding -his conversation with Italian ejaculations, which, in conjunction with -his carefully-learnt English, had a somewhat curious effect. Being the -tenor of an opera company in New York, he had become acquainted with -Mrs. Belswin, who was also in the profession, and had fallen violently -in love with this splendid-looking woman, who had so many of the -characteristics of his countrywomen. Mrs. Belswin did not reciprocate -this passion, and treated him with marked discourtesy; but this only -added fuel to the fire of his love, much to her annoyance, as Ferrari -had all the ardour and violence of his race strongly developed, and -was likely to prove dangerous if she did not return his passion, a -thing she felt by no means inclined to do.</p> - -<p>At present he sat smiling on the sofa before her, adjusted his bright -red tie, ran his fingers through his curly hair, and then twisted the -ends of his moustache with peculiarly aggravating complacency.</p> - -<p>"Don't you hear what I say?" said Mrs. Belswin, stamping her foot -angrily. "I'm busy. Go away."</p> - -<p>"Bid me not fly from those star-like eyes," sang the Signor, rolling a -cigarette with deft fingers. "Ah, che bella musica. If the words were -but my beautiful Italian instead of this harsh English. Dio! It hurts -the throat, your speaking--fog-voiced pigs that you are."</p> - -<p>"Take your abuse and yourself somewhere else," replied Mrs. Belswin, -bringing her hand down sharply on the table. "I tell you I'm busy. You -never leave me alone, Stephano. You followed me over from America, and -now you stay beside me all day. Why do you make such a fool of -yourself?"</p> - -<p>"Because I love thee, carissima. Let me light this; not at thine -eyes--stelle radiante--but from thy cigarette. Grazia!"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin knew of old that when Ferrari was in this humour nothing -reasonable could be expected from him; so, resigned to the inevitable, -she let him light his cigarette as he wished, then, flinging herself -down on her chair, looked moodily at him.</p> - -<p>"How long is this foolery going to last?" she demanded caustically.</p> - -<p>"Till you become the Signora Ferrari."</p> - -<p>"That will never be."</p> - -<p>"Nay, angela mia--it will be some day."</p> - -<p>"Was there ever such a man?" burst out Mrs. Belswin, viciously. "He -won't take no for an answer."</p> - -<p>"Not from thee, Donna Lucrezia."</p> - -<p>"Don't call me Donna Lucrezia.</p> - -<p>"Perchè?"</p> - -<p>"Because I'm tired of opera. I'm tired of you. I'm tired of -everything. I'm going to leave all the old life and become -respectable."</p> - -<p>"The life of a singer is always respectable," declared Ferrari, -mendaciously. "You mean to leave me, Signora?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I do."</p> - -<p>"Ebbene! we shall see."</p> - -<p>"What claim have you on me? None. I met you in America two years ago. -We nag together for a time, and because of that you persecute me with -you ridiculous attentions."</p> - -<p>"I love thee."</p> - -<p>"I don't want your love."</p> - -<p>"Veramente!"</p> - -<p>"No!"</p> - -<p>She spoke defiantly, and folding her arms stared steadily at her -persistent lover. The Italian, however, was not at all annoyed. He -simply threw his half-smoked cigarette into the teacup, and rising -from his seat stood before her smiling and bland as ever.</p> - -<p>"Non e vero, Signora? Ebbene. I am the same. We met in San Francisco -two years ago. I was a singer of opera. I obtained for you -engagements. I loved you. Carissima, I love thee still! You are cold, -cruel, you stone-woman, bella demonia. For long time I have been your -slave. You have given me the kicks of a dog. Pazienza, I finish soon. -I have told you all of myself. You have told me all of yourself. I -come to this fog land with you, and now you say, 'Addio.' Bellissima, -Signora, but I am not to be talked to like a child. I love you! and I -marry you. Ecco! You will be Signora Ferrari. Senza dubbio!"</p> - -<p>Having thus delivered himself of his determination with many smiles -and gesticulations, Signor Ferrari bowed in his best stage manner, sat -down in his chair and began to roll another cigarette. Mrs. Belswin -heard him in silence, the clenching of her hands alone betraying her -anger, but having had two years' experience of the Italian's -character, she knew what to do, and controlling herself with an -effort, began to temporise in a highly diplomatic manner.</p> - -<p>"I suppose no woman could be indifferent to such love as you profess, -Stephano, and some day I may be able to answer you as you wish--but -not now, not now."</p> - -<p>"And why, cara mia?"</p> - -<p>"Because I am going to see my daughter again."</p> - -<p>"Your daughter?"</p> - -<p>"Yes! You know I told you all my past life. I was a fool to do so, as -it gives you a certain hold over me. But I am a lonely--woman. Your -manner was sympathetic, and so--well it's only natural I should wish -to confide in some one."</p> - -<p>"So you confided in me. Per l'amor di Dio, Signora. Do not be sorry, I -am simpatica! I feel for you. Ah, Dio! It was a terrible story of your -husband, and the parting in anger. Basta! Basta! Think of it no more."</p> - -<p>"I must! Do you think I can forget the past by a simple effort of -will? Happy for me, happy for all, if such a thing could be. But--I -have forgotten nothing. That is my punishment!"</p> - -<p>"And now, cara?"</p> - -<p>"Now I am going to see my dear daughter again."</p> - -<p>"She is in London, then? Ah, che gioja."</p> - -<p>"Yes! she is in--in England."</p> - -<p>"And il marito?"</p> - -<p>"He is at the other end of the world."</p> - -<p>"Bene. Let him say there!"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin nodded her head in savage approval, then began to walk to -and fro, talking rapidly.</p> - -<p>"While he is away I have a plan. In the paper there is a notice -requiring a companion for my daughter."</p> - -<p>"How do you know?"</p> - -<p>"Because it is put in by a Mr. Dombrain. He is Rupert Pethram's -solicitor. Oh, I know him, better than he thinks. All these years I -have been away from my child I have watched over her. Ah, yes! I know -all of her life in New Zealand. I have good friends there. I found out -when her father brought her to England, and that is why I came over -here so quickly. I intended to see her again--to speak to her--but -without revealing I was her unhappy mother. But--I was afraid of -Pethram. Yes, you may smile, Stephano, but you do not know him. I do."</p> - -<p>"E incrédibile. You who fear no one."</p> - -<p>"I do not fear him physically," she said proudly, with a savage flash -from her fierce eyes. "I fear no man in that way. But I am afraid -because of my daughter. She thinks I am dead. It is better than that -she should know I am a divorced, disgraced woman. If Sir Rupert were -angry he might tell her all, and then--and then--oh, God! I could not -bear to see her again. She would despise me. She would look on me with -scorn. My own child. Ah, I should die--I should die!"</p> - -<p>The tears actually came into her eyes, and for a moment softened their -fierceness. This woman, hard and undisciplined, with savage instincts -derived from a savage mother, yet felt the strong maternal instinct -implanted in the breast of every woman, and quailed with terror as she -thought of the power her former husband had to lower her in the eyes -of her daughter. Ferrari, of course, could not understand this, having -been always accustomed to think of Mrs. Belswin as an untamed tigress, -but now she had a touch of feminine softness about her which puzzled -him.</p> - -<p>"Ah! the strangeness of women," he said philosophically. "Ebbene, now -il marito is away, what will you do?"</p> - -<p>"I'm going to see Mr. Dombrain, and obtain the situation of companion -to my own daughter."</p> - -<p>"Not so fast, Signora! She will know you."</p> - -<p>"No; she will not know me," replied Mrs. Belswin softly; "she does not -remember me. When I left her she was a little child. She thinks I am -dead. I go to her as a stranger. It is hard; it is terribly hard. I -will see her. I will speak to her. I will perhaps kiss her; but I dare -not say, 'child, I am your mother!' Ah, it is cruel--but it is my -punishment."</p> - -<p>"It is a good plan for you, cara mia! But about me, you forget your -faithful Stephano!"</p> - -<p>"No, I do not," she said coaxingly, for she was afraid he would spoil -all, knowing what he did; "but you must wait. I want to see my -daughter--to live with her for a time. When my husband returns he will -know me, so I must leave before he sees me. Then I will come back to -thee, carissima."</p> - -<p>"Basta!" replied Ferrari, with great reluctance. "I do not wish to -keep you from the child. I am not jealous of il marito."</p> - -<p>"You've no cause to be--I hate him."</p> - -<p>"Look, then, the love I bear you, carissima mia. Though all your life -I know. Though you have had husband and lover, yet I wish to make you -mine."</p> - -<p>"It is strange," said Mrs. Belswin, indifferently. "I am not a young -woman; my good looks are going; my past life is not that of a saint; -and yet you would marry me."</p> - -<p>"Because I love thee, carissima," said Ferrari, taking her hand. "I -have loved many before, but none like thee, bella demonia. Ah, Dio, -thou hast the fierceness of the tiger within thee. The hot blood of -Italy burns in thy veins, my Lucrezia Borgia. I am weary of tame women -who weep and sigh ever. I am no cold Englishman, thou knowest. The -lion seeks but the lioness, and so I come to thee for thy love, stella -adorata."</p> - -<p>He caressed her softly as he spoke these words in his musical voice, -and the woman softened under his caress with feline grace. All the -treachery and sleepiness of the panther was observable in this woman; -but under the smoothness of her manner lay the fierceness of her -savage nature, which was now being controlled by the master hand of -the Italian.</p> - -<p>"You will let me go to my daughter, then," she said in a soft, languid -voice, her fierce eyes dulling under the mesmeric influence of his -gaze.</p> - -<p>"As you will. I can deny thee nothing, regina del mia vita."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_04" href="#div1Ref_04">CHAPTER IV.</a></h4> -<h5>WHAT MRS. BELSWIN HAD TO SAY.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<p style="text-indent:-7px">"The deeds we do, though done in heedless ways,<br> -May have the shaping of our future lives;<br> -And, stretching forth their long arms from the past,<br> -May alter this and that in such strange fashion<br> -That we become as puppets in their hands,<br> -To play the game of life by old events."</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>Mr. Dombrain's office, situate in Chintle Lane, was a shabby little -place consisting of three rooms. One where his clients waited, another -occupied by three clerks constantly writing, and a third where Mr. -Dombrain himself sat, like a crafty spider in his web waiting for -silly flies. The three rooms were all bad, but Mr. Dombrain's was the -worst; a square, low-roofed apartment like a box, with a dim twilight -atmosphere, which filtered in through a dirty skylight in the roof. -This being the case, Dombrain's desk was lighted by a gas-jet with a -green shade, fed by a snaky-looking india-rubber tube attached to the -iron gas-pipe projecting from the wall above his head.</p> - -<p>The heavy yellow light flaring from under this green shade revealed -the room in a half-hearted sort of fashion, illuminating the desk, -but quite unable to penetrate into the dark corners of the place. On -the writing-table were piles of papers, mostly tied into bundles with -red tape, a glass inkstand, a pad of pink blotting-paper, three or -four pens, all of which were arranged on a dingy ink-stained green -cloth in front of a row of pigeon holes, full of loose letters and -legal-looking documents.</p> - -<p>In front of this table sat Mr. Dombrain in a heavy horsehair-covered -chair, and near him were two other chairs of slender construction for -the use of clients. Along the walls more pigeon holes crammed with -papers, a tall bookshelf filled with hard-looking law books, which had -a second-hand look of having been picked up cheap, a ragged carpet on -the well-worn floor, and dust everywhere. Indeed, so thickly lay the -dust on books, on floor, on papers, on desk, that the whole room -looked as if it had just been opened after the lapse of years. The -chamber of the Sleeping Beauty, perhaps, and Mr. Dombrain--well no, he -was not a beauty, and he never was sleeping, so the comparison holds -not. Indeed he was a singularly ugly man in a coarse fashion. A large -bullet-shaped head covered with rough red hair, cut so remarkably -short that it stood up stiffly in a stubbly fashion, a freckled face -with a coarse red beard clipped short, cunning little grey eyes, -rather bleared by the constant glare of the gaslight in which he -worked, and large crimson ears. Dressed in a neat suit of black -broadcloth, he appeared singularly ill at ease in it, and with his -large stumpy-fingered hands, with clubbed nails, his awkward manner, -his habit of stealthily glancing out of his bleared eyes, Mr. Dombrain -was about as unsuited a person for a lawyer as one could find. There -was nothing suave about him to invite confidence, and he looked as if -he would have been more at home working as a navvy than sitting behind -this desk, with his large red hands clumsily moving the papers about.</p> - -<p>Three o'clock in the afternoon it was by Mr. Dombrain's fat-faced -silver watch lying on the table in front of him, and as the lawyer -noted the fact in his usual stealthy fashion, a timid-looking clerk -glided into the room.</p> - -<p>"Yes?" said Dombrain interrogatively, without looking up.</p> - -<p>"If you please--if you please, sir, a lady," stammered the timid -clerk, washing his hands with invisible soap and water, "a lady -about--about the situation, sir."</p> - -<p>"Humph! I said the application was to be by letter."</p> - -<p>"But--but the lady, sir?"</p> - -<p>Mr. Dombrain looked complacently at his nails, but said nothing.</p> - -<p>"But--but the lady, sir?" repeated the timid clerk again.</p> - -<p>"I said the application was to be by letter."</p> - -<p>The clerk, seeing that this was the answer he was expected to deliver, -went sliding out of the room; but at the door encountered the lady in -question, dressed in black, and closely veiled.</p> - -<p>"Madam," he stammered, growing red, "the application was to be by -letter."</p> - -<p>"I preferred to come personally."</p> - -<p>As she spoke, low though her voice was, Mr. Dombrain looked up -suddenly with a startled look on his face.</p> - -<p>"Can you see me, Mr. Dombrain?"</p> - -<p>He arose slowly to his feet, as if in obedience to some nervous -impulse, and with his grey eyes looking straight at the veiled woman, -still kept silence.</p> - -<p>"Can you see me, Mr. Alfred Dombrain?"</p> - -<p>The lawyer's red face had turned pale, and looked yellow in the -gaslight. The hot atmosphere of the room evidently made him gasp, used -as he was to it, for he opened his mouth as if to speak, then, closing -it again, signed to the clerk to leave the room.</p> - -<p>Left alone with his visitor, Dombrain, still maintaining the same -position, stood watching her with a mesmeric stare as she glided into -one of the chairs beside the table.</p> - -<p>"Won't you sit down, Mr. Alfred Dombrain?"</p> - -<p>His face was suddenly suffused with a rush of blood, and he sat down -heavily.</p> - -<p>"Madam! who are you?"</p> - -<p>"Don't you know? Ah! what a pity; and you have such a good memory for -voices."</p> - -<p>"I--memory--voices," he stammered, moving restlessly.</p> - -<p>"Yes; why not, Mr. Damberton?"</p> - -<p>"Hush! For God's sake, hush! Who are you? Who are you?"</p> - -<p>The woman flung back her veil, and he recoiled from the sight of her -face with a hoarse, strangled cry.</p> - -<p>"Jezebel Pethram!"</p> - -<p>"Once Jezebel Pethram, now Miriam Belswin. I see you remember faces as -well as voices--and names also. Ah! what an excellent memory."</p> - -<p>Mr. Dombrain <i>alias</i> Damberton collected his scattered senses -together, and, going over to a small iron safe set in the wall, -produced a tumbler and a bottle of whisky. Mrs. Belswin looked at him -approvingly as he drank off half a glass of the spirit neat.</p> - -<p>"That's right; you'll need all your Dutch courage."</p> - -<p>Quite forgetting the demands of hospitality, Dombrain replaced the -bottle and glass in the respectable safe, and resumed his seat at the -table with his ordinary bullying nature quite restored to him by the -potent spirit.</p> - -<p>"Now, then, Mrs. Pethram, or Belswin, or whatever you like to call -yourself," he said, in a harsh, angry tone, "what do you want here?"</p> - -<p>"I want you."</p> - -<p>"Ho, ho! The feeling isn't reciprocal. Leave my office."</p> - -<p>"When I choose."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps a policeman will make you go quicker," growled Dombrain, -rising.</p> - -<p>"Perhaps he will," retorted Mrs. Belswin, composedly; "and perhaps -he'll take you along with him."</p> - -<p>"Infernal nonsense."</p> - -<p>"Is it! We'll try the experiment, if you like."</p> - -<p>Mr. Dombrain resumed his seat with a malediction on all women in -general, and Mrs. Belswin in particular. Then he bit his nails, and -looked at her defiantly, only to quail before the fierce look in her -eyes.</p> - -<p>"It's no use beating about the bush with a fiend like you," he growled -sulkily, making a clumsy attempt to appear at his ease.</p> - -<p>"Not a bit."</p> - -<p>"I wish you'd go away," whined Dombrain, with a sudden change of -front. "I'm quite respectable now. I haven't seen you for twenty -years. Why do you come now and badger me? It isn't fair to pull a man -down when he's up."</p> - -<p>"Do you call this up?" sneered Mrs. Belswin, looking round the dingy -office.</p> - -<p>"It's up enough for me."</p> - -<p>The woman grinned in a disagreeable manner, finding Mr. Dombrain's -manner very amusing. She glanced rapidly at him with her fierce eyes, -and he wriggled uneasily in his chair.</p> - -<p>"Don't look at me like that, you witch," he muttered, covering his -face with his large hands. "You've got the evil eye, confound you."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin, leaning forward, held up her forefinger and shook it -gently at the lawyer.</p> - -<p>"It won't do, my friend; I tell you it won't do. You've tried -bullying, you've tried whining; neither of them go down with me. If -you have any business to do you've got to put it aside for me. If you -have to see clients you can't and won't see them till I choose. Do you -hear what I say, you legal Caliban? I've come here for a purpose, Mr. -Dombrain--that, I believe, is your present name--for a purpose, sir. -Do you hear?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I hear. What is your purpose?"</p> - -<p>She laughed; but not mirthfully.</p> - -<p>"To tell you a story."</p> - -<p>"I don't want stories. Go to a publisher."</p> - -<p>"Certainly. I'll go to the Scotland Yard firm. Hold your tongue, sir. -Sneering doesn't come well from an animal like you. I have no time to -waste."</p> - -<p>"Neither have I."</p> - -<p>"That being the case with both of us, sit still."</p> - -<p>Mr. Dombrain stopped his wriggling and became as a stone statue of an -Egyptian king, with his hands resting on his knees.</p> - -<p>"Now I'll tell you my story."</p> - -<p>"Can't you do without that?"</p> - -<p>"No, my good man, I can't. To make you understand what I want I must -tell you all my story. Some of it you know, some of it you don't know. -Be easy. It's short and not sweet. Listen."</p> - -<p>And Mr. Dombrain did listen, not because he wanted to, but because -this woman with the fierce eyes had an influence over him which he, -bully, coarse-minded man as he was, could not resist. When he -recollected what she knew and what she could tell, and would tell if -she chose, a cold sweat broke out all over him, and he felt nerveless -as a little child. Therefore, for these and divers other reasons, Mr. -Dombrain listened--with manifest reluctance, it is true, but still he -listened.</p> - -<p>"We will commence the story in New Zealand twenty years--say -twenty-two years ago. One Rupert Pethram, the younger son of a good -family, come out there to make his fortune. He made it by the simple -process of marrying a Maori half-caste, called Jezebel Manners. You -see I don't scruple to tell everything about myself, dear friend. -Well, Mr. and Mrs. Pethram got on very well together for a time, but -she grew tired of being married to a fool. He was a fool, wasn't he?"</p> - -<p>She waited for a reply, so Dombrain, against his will, was forced to -give her one.</p> - -<p>"Yes, he was a fool--to marry you."</p> - -<p>"The wisest thing he ever did in his life, seeing what a lot of -property I brought him. But I couldn't get on with him. My mother was -a pure-blooded Maori. I am only half a white, and I hated his cold -phlegmatic disposition, his supercilious manners. I was--I am -hot-blooded, ardent, quick-tempered. Fancy a woman like me tied to a -cold-blooded fish like Rupert Pethram. Bah! it was madness. I hated -him before my child was born; afterwards I hated him more than ever. -Then the other man came along."</p> - -<p>"There always is another man!"</p> - -<p>"Naturally! What would become of the Divorce Court if there wasn't? -Yes, the other man did come along. A pink and white fool. My husband -was a god compared to Silas Oates."</p> - -<p>"Then why did you run away with Oates?"</p> - -<p>"Why indeed! He attracted me in some way, I suppose, or I was sick of -my humdrum married life. I don't know why I left even Rupert Pethram -for such a fool as Silas. I did so, however. I gave up my name, my -child, my money, all for what?--for a man that tired of me in less -than six months, and left me to starve in San Francisco."</p> - -<p>"You didn't starve, however."</p> - -<p>"It is not my nature to act foolishly all my life. No, I did not -starve. I had a good voice, which I managed to get trained. I had also -a good idea of acting, so I made a success on the operatic stage as -Madame Tagni."</p> - -<p>"Oh! are you the celebrated Madame Tagni?"</p> - -<p>"I was. Now I am Mrs. Belswin, of no occupation in particular. I sang -in the States; I sang in New Zealand----"</p> - -<p>"You didn't sing in Dunedin?"</p> - -<p>"No, because my husband was there. Do you know why I came to New -Zealand--a divorced, dishonoured woman? No, of course you don't. I -came to see my child. I did see her, unknown to Rupert or to the child -herself. I was in New Zealand a long time watching over my darling. -Then I went again to the States, but I left friends behind me--good -friends, who kept me posted up in all the news of my child Kaituna. -Since I left her twenty years ago like a fool, I have known everything -about her. I heard in New York how Rupert had lost all his money, -owing to the decrease in the value of property. I heard his elder -brother had died, and that he had come in for the title. He is Sir -Rupert Pethram; I ought to be Lady Pethram."</p> - -<p>"But you're not," sneered Dombrain, unable to resist the opportunity.</p> - -<p>She flashed a savage glance at him and replied quietly.</p> - -<p>"No, I am Mrs. Belswin, that's enough for me at present. But to go on -with my story. I heard how my husband had brought our child home to -the old country, and leaving her there had returned to New Zealand on -business. When this news reached me, I made up my mind at once and -came over here. I found out--how, it matters not--that my husband's -legal adviser was an old friend of mine, one Alfred Damberton----"</p> - -<p>"Hush! not that name here!"</p> - -<p>"Ah, I forgot. You are the respectable Mr. Alfred Dombrain now. But it -was curious that I should find an old friend in a position so likely -to be of use to me."</p> - -<p>"Use to you?" groaned Dombrain, savagely.</p> - -<p>"Yes; I have seen your advertisement in the paper for a companion for -a young lady. Well, I have come to apply for the situation."</p> - -<p>"You?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. Personally, and not by letter as you suggested in print."</p> - -<p>Mr. Dombrain felt that he was in a fix, and therefore lied, with -clumsy malignity.</p> - -<p>"That advertisement doesn't refer to your daughter."</p> - -<p>"Doesn't it?" said Mrs. Belswin sharply. "Then, why refer to my -daughter at all just now?"</p> - -<p>"Because!--oh, because----"</p> - -<p>"Because you couldn't think of a better lie, I suppose," she finished, -contemptuously. "It won't do, my friend, I tell you it won't do. I'm -not the kind of woman to be played fast and loose with. You say it is -not my daughter that requires a chaperon."</p> - -<p>"I do! yes I do!"</p> - -<p>"Then you lie. What do you think private detectives are made for? Did -you think I came here without having everything necessary to meet an -unscrupulous wretch like you!"</p> - -<p>"I thought nothing about you. I thought you were dead."</p> - -<p>"And wished it, I daresay. But I'm not! I'm alive enough to do you an -injury--to have your name struck off the roll of English solicitors."</p> - -<p>"You can't!" he retorted defiantly, growing pale again. "I defy you."</p> - -<p>"You'd better not, Mr. Damberton! I'm one too many for you. I can tell -a little thing about your past career which would considerably spoil -the respectable position you now hold."</p> - -<p>"No one would believe you against me. A respectable solicitor's word -is worth a dozen of a divorced woman."</p> - -<p>"If you insult me I'll put a knife in you, you miserable wretch!" said -Mrs. Belswin, breathing hard. "I tell you I'm a desperate woman. I -know that you have advertised for a chaperon for my daughter, and -I--her mother--intend to have the situation under the name of Mrs. -Belswin."</p> - -<p>"But your husband will recognise you."</p> - -<p>"My husband is out in New Zealand, and will be there for the next few -months. When he returns I will deal with him, not you. This matter of -the chaperon is in your hands, and you are going to give the situation -to me. You hear, gaol-bird--to me!"</p> - -<p>Dombrain winced at the term applied to him, and jumped up with a -furious look of rage.</p> - -<p>"I defy you! I defy you!" he said in a low harsh voice, the veins in -his forehead swelling with intense passion. "You outcast! You Jezebel! -Ah, how the name suits you! I know what you are going to say. That -twenty years ago I was in gaol in New Zealand for embezzlement. Well, -I own it--I was. I was a friend of your lover, Silas Oates--your lover -who cast you off to starve. I lost money betting. I embezzled a large -sum. I was convicted and sentenced to a term of imprisonment. Well, I -worked out my term! I left the colony where, as Alfred Damberton, I -was too well known to get a chance of honest employment, and came to -England through America. I met you again in America. I was fool enough -to think Silas Oates might help me for old time's sake. I found he had -left you--left you alone in 'Frisco. You were little better than a -vile creature on the streets; I was a gaol-bird. Oh, a nice pair we -were! Outcasts, both you and I."</p> - -<p>He passed his handkerchief over his dry lips as he paused, but Mrs. -Belswin made no sign in any way, but simply sat looking at him with a -sneer.</p> - -<p>"When I left you," resumed Dombrain, hurriedly, "I came to England--to -my father. He was a lawyer in the country. He received me well--took -me into his office and admitted me into partnership. When he died I -came up to London, and have prospered since. I have changed my name to -Alfred Dombrain, and am respected everywhere. Your husband does not -know my story. He was recommended to me by a friend, and he has -employed me for some years. I have his confidence in every way. I am a -respectable man! I have forgotten the past, and now you come with your -bitter tongue and spiteful mind to tear me down from the position I -have so hardly won."</p> - -<p>He dropped down exhausted into a chair; but Mrs. Belswin, still -smiling, still sneering, pointed to the safe.</p> - -<p>"Take some more whiskey. You will need it."</p> - -<p>"Woman, leave me!"</p> - -<p>"Not till I leave as chaperon to my child."</p> - -<p>"That you shall never have."</p> - -<p>"Oh yes, I shall!"</p> - -<p>"I say you shall not! You can go and tell my story where you please; I -shall tell yours; and we'll see who will be believed--Alfred Dombrain, -the respectable, trusted lawyer, or Mrs. Belswin, the divorced woman! -Bah! You can't frighten me with slanders. There is nothing to connect -Dombrain the solicitor with Damberton, the convict."</p> - -<p>"Indeed! What about this?"</p> - -<p>She held up a photograph which she had taken out of her pocket--a -photograph resembling Mr. Dombrain, but which had written under it--</p> -<br> - -<p class="center"><i>Alfred Damberton</i>.</p> -<br> - -<p>"You may alter your face," said Mrs. Belswin maliciously, "but you -can't very well alter your handwriting. And now I look at you, I -really don't think there is much alteration. A beard when there used -to be only a moustache, more wrinkles, less smiles. Oh, I think any -one will recognise this for you."</p> - -<p>Dombrain made a snatch at the photograph, but she was too quick for -him.</p> - -<p>"Not quite. This is my evidence against you. I heard in America, -through my useful detectives, that you were lawyer to my husband; so, -thinking I might require your help, and knowing I shouldn't get it -without some difficulty, I took the trouble of writing to New Zealand -for a full report of your very interesting case. You've cost me a good -deal of money, my dear sir; but they pay well on the opera-stage, so I -don't mind. I have all the papers telling your little story. I have -this photograph with your own signature, proving the identity of -Damberton with Dombrain; so taking all things into consideration, I -think you had better do what I ask."</p> - -<p>She had so completely got the better of Mr. Dombrain that she had -reduced him to a kind of moral pulp, and he leaned back in his chair -utterly crushed.</p> - -<p>"What do you want?" he asked feebly.</p> - -<p>"I want the situation of chaperon to Miss Kaituna Pethram.</p> - -<p>"If I give it to you, as I can, will you hold your tongue -about--about--my past life?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, certainly; provided that you never disclose that the divorced -Mrs. Pethram has anything to do with the respectable Mrs. Belswin."</p> - -<p>"I agree to all you say."</p> - -<p>"You will give me the situation?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"I am engaged, then?"</p> - -<p>"You are."</p> - -<p>"As chaperon to Miss Pethram?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; as chaperon to Miss Pethram."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin arose with a smile of triumph and took her leave.</p> - -<p>"Beaten all along the line, I see. Let this be a lesson to you, my -dear friend, never to put your thick head against a woman's wits!"</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_05" href="#div1Ref_05">CHAPTER V.</a></h4> -<h5>THE PRODIGAL SON.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<p style="text-indent:-7px">"Oh, what becomes of our prodigal sons<br> -When worried by troublesome debts and duns.<br> -When fatherly loving is quite worn out,<br> -And how to exist is a matter of doubt?<br> -Well, some go writing in London town,<br> -A few rise up and a lot fall down,<br> -Many as squatters go south of the line<br> -And 'tend to their sheep instead of their swine,<br> -Dozens in African jungles now rest,<br> -Numbers ranch in the far wild west;<br> -But have they full or an empty purse,<br> -Have they lived decently or the reverse,<br> -Married or single, wherever they roam<br> -Our prodigal sons in the end come home."</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>When Mr. Clendon, Vicar of Deswarth, preached on the parable of "The -Prodigal Son" he little thought that it would one day be applicable to -his own offspring. Yet such was the case, for Tobias Clendon--called -after that celebrated character in the Apocrypha--came home from -Oxford, where he was supposed to be studying for the Church, and -resolutely refused to become a curate, with the chance of a possible -bishopric somewhere about the forties. The fact is, the young man had -contracted the fatal habit of scribbling, and having had a few -articles on dogcarts, poetry, Saint Simonism--such was the wideness of -his range--accepted by friendly editors, had resolved to devote his -energies to literature. He had not ambition enough to become a great -writer, nor enough modesty to sink to the level of a literary hack; -but seeing a chance of earning his bread and butter in an easy -fashion, he determined to take advantage of it and get through life as -happily as possible. Having, therefore, made up his mind to be a -scribbler of ephemeral essays, verse, stories--anything that paid, in -fact--he had also made up his mind to tell his respected parent, but, -having a wholesome dread of said parent, was afraid to do so.</p> - -<p>Chance--meddlesome goddess--helped him.</p> - -<p>He was rusticated for an amusing escapade arising from a misuse of -spirits--animal spirits and--and--other spirits. Unfortunately, the -college authorities did not look at the affair precisely in Toby's -way, so they banished him from Alma Mater, whom Toby henceforward -regarded as an unjust step-mother.</p> - -<p>Being thus summarily treated, he went home to Deswarth, and was -received by his respectable parent with as strong language as his -position as vicar allowed him to use.</p> - -<p>Clendon <i>père</i> was a dry-as-dust old gentleman, who was always -grubbing among antique folios, and he had sketched out his son's life -in black and white. Clendon <i>fils</i>--this is the parental prophecy--was -to be a curate, a vicar, edit a Greek play--something of Æschylus for -choice--blossom into a full-blown bishop, keep a holy but watchful eye -on any possible vacancy in the sees of York or Canterbury, and die as -high up in the Church as he could get. It was truly a beautiful -vision, and Bookworm Clendon, burrowing in out-of-way libraries, -looked upon this vision as a thing which was to be.</p> - -<p>But then that terrible <i>cacoeihes scribendi</i>, which spoils so many -promising Bishops, Lord Chancellors, Prime Ministers, had infected -the wholesome blood of Toby, and, in obedience to the itch, he -scribbled--he scribbled--oh, Father Apollo, how he did scribble! -Having scribbled, he published; having published he showed his printed -compositions to his father; but that gentleman, despising modern -print, modern paper, modern everything, would not look at his son's -effusions.</p> - -<p>This narrow-mindedness grieved Toby, as he had hoped to break the -matter gently to his reverend sire; but as this could not be done, -instead of shivering on the brink like a timid bather, he plunged in.</p> - -<p>In plain English, he told his father that he wished to be a -Shakespeare, a Dickens, a Tennyson, a--a--well select the most famous -writers in the range of literature, and you have the people whom Toby -wished to emulate in a nineteenth century sense.</p> - -<p>After this the deluge.</p> - -<p>No prophet likes to have his prophecies proved false, and Mr. Clendon -was no exception to the rule. Having settled Toby's career in life, he -was terribly angry that Toby should presume to unsettle it in any way. -Not be a curate, not be a vicar, not be a bishop--what did the boy -expect to be?</p> - -<p>The boy, with all humility, stated that he expected to be a Dickens, a -George Eliot.</p> - -<p>"George Eliot, sir, was a woman."</p> - -<p>Well, then, a Walter Scott. Had his father any objections?</p> - -<p>The reverend bookworm had several.</p> - -<p>First objection.--Literature has no prizes. Money? Yes. Fame? Yes. But -no official prizes. If you go into the law, you may hope some day to -sit on the woolsack, which is stately but uncomfortable. If you prefer -the Church, you may attain the dignity of a bishop--even of an -archbishop. In medicine you may become physician to the court, and -physic royalty, which entails large fees and a chance of populating -the royal vaults in Westminster Abbey. Even in painting, the -presidentship of the Royal Academy is not beyond the reach of a -conventional painter who does not startle his generation with too much -genius. All these things are worth striving for, because they smack of -officialism. But literature--oh, shade of Richard Savage, what prize -is there in literature?</p> - -<p>Suggestion by Toby.--The Poet Laureateship.</p> - -<p>Which has no salary worth speaking of attached to it; and rhymes to -order are seldom rhymes in order. No, the Laureateship is out of the -question; therefore literature has no prizes.</p> - -<p>Second objection.--Literature is a good stick, but a bad crutch,--a -remark of Walter Scott, which was uttered in the primeval times of -scribbling. Still, according to Mr. Clendon, who knew nothing past -that period, it held good to-day. If Toby went in for literature, how -did he expect to live till the fame period, seeing that he could earn -but little, and the paternal purse-strings were to be closed tightly? -Poetry. It doesn't pay.</p> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:10%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t5">Verse<br> -Is a curse;<br> -Doesn't fill the purse.</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>Rhyme and reason both, according to Clendon <i>père</i>. Novels! Pshaw, the -field is overrun by three volume rubbish by talented lady scribblers. -Essays! No one wants essays when Lamb and Addison can be bought -cheaply. Altogether, literature has no money in it.</p> - -<p>Third objection, and strongest.--You were intended for the Church; and -you must carry out my plans, even if against your own judgment.</p> - -<p>Having thus stated his objections, Clendon <i>père</i> ordered Toby to take -holy orders at once, and think no more of the draggle-tailed muse and -all her tribe.</p> - -<p>Toby refused.</p> - -<p>His father used clerical bad language.</p> - -<p>Toby left the room.</p> - -<p>His father cut him off with a shilling, and bade him leave the -paternal roof, which he did.</p> - -<p>Here endeth the first Book of Tobias.</p> - -<p>In London Toby had a hard time. He went through the mill, and did not -like it. He sounded the depths of the London ocean, which contains all -kinds of disagreeable things which appear not on the surface--fireless -grates, abusive landladies, obdurate editors, well-worn clothing. Oh, -it was certainly an unpleasant experience, but Toby sank to rise, and -never forgot, when wandering amid this submarine wreckage of London, -that he was a gentleman and had one definite object in view.</p> - -<p>If a man keep these two things in mind, they are bladders which will -float him to the surface among successful crafts.</p> - -<p>Therefore Tobias Clendon rose--slowly at first, then rapidly.</p> - -<p>He wrote articles about the wreckage amid which he wandered, and had -them accepted by editors, who paid him as little as they could. -Afterwards he scribbled comic songs for opulent music-hall artistes, -which contained the latest ideas of the day and a superfluity of -slang. These efforts brought him into contact with the theatrical -profession, which is renowned for its modesty, and he put new wine -into old bottles by patching up old burlesques. In this cobbling he -was very successful, and what with one thing and another, he got on -capitally. From burlesques he advanced to little curtain raisers; he -wrote short abusive stories for charitably-minded society papers, -scathing articles on books by celebrated writers, in which he proved -conclusively that they did not know their business as novelists, and -altogether became a sort of literary Autolycus, being a picker-up of -unconsidered trifles in the literary line. This brought him in a good -income, and in a few years he actually could face his bankers without -blushing. Then he took a holiday, and during such holiday went to -Marsh-on-the-Sea, where he met Miss Valpy, who reminded him about his -father, and then----</p> - -<p>"I am," said Toby, sententiously, "a prodigal son. I have lived in a -far country, and eaten husks with London swine. Unlike the young man, -however, I have risen above the profession of swineherd. I have become -friends with Dives, and he has bidden me to feasts where I have fared -sumptuously. The prodigal son began with money and ended with swine. I -began with swine and end now with money. This is a distinct -improvement on the old parable; but now 'I will arise and go to my -father.' I'm afraid he won't kill the fatted calf, but I don't -particularly mind as I detest veal; it's indigestible. He won't fall -on my neck because he's not a demonstrative old gentleman, but still -I'll go, especially as there is no dear brother to make things -unpleasant. My Lares and Penates I will collect, and the country of my -fathers will see me once more."</p> - -<p>With this idea in his mind, Toby, who had left home in a third-class -carriage, returned in a first-class, and was puffed up accordingly. -With all such pomposity, however, he took a common sense view of -things with regard to the reception committee, and walked to the -vicarage with a becoming air of humility. He had left his father -grubbing among relics of Fust and Caxton, and on his return found him -still grubbing--a little older looking, a little dryer--but still -stranded among rare folios of the middle ages. Toby saluted this -paternal ghoul, and was received kindly, the ghoul having a heart -concealed somewhere in his anatomy.</p> - -<p>"I am glad to see you again, Tobias," said Clendon <i>père</i>, with marked -cordiality. "I am a clergyman, and you offended me by not making the -profession hereditary. However, I am also a father, and I have missed -you very much, my boy--very much indeed--shake hands."</p> - -<p>Which Toby did, and actually surprised a tear on the parchment cheek -of his father, which touch of nature making them both akin, had a -marked effect on the soft heart of the young man, and he fell into the -arms of his sire.</p> - -<p>Thus far the parable was excellently interpreted.</p> - -<p>But the fatted calf.</p> - -<p>Ah! it was truly an excellent beast, that same calf, for it consisted -of several courses, and the wine was undeniable. Clendon <i>père</i> looked -after his cellar as well as his folios, and after a good dinner father -and son clasped hands once more under the influence of '47 port, which -made them both sentimental.</p> - -<p>"You will stay with me, Tobias, and comfort my declining years?"</p> - -<p>"Certainly, father; but you will let me go to London occasionally?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes, Tobias; you must attend to your business. By the way, what -is your business?"</p> - -<p>"That of a scribbler."</p> - -<p>"Ah! Richard Savage and Grub Street. Never mind, my boy, I've got -money enough for us both."</p> - -<p>"No, not Grub Street. Nous avons change tout cela, eh, father! I make -about five hundred a year."</p> - -<p>"What!--what, at scribbling?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"Dear me," remarked Clendon <i>père</i>, eyeing his port, "what a lot of -money there must be in the world."</p> - -<p>"My dear father, literature has improved since the Caxton period."</p> - -<p>"But printing has not, Tobias. No, no! Nowadays they use flimsy paper, -bad type----"</p> - -<p>"But the matter, father; the contents of a book."</p> - -<p>"I never read a modern book. Pish! You can't teach an old dog new -tricks. I don't believe in your cheap literature."</p> - -<p>"It's a good thing for me, at any rate, father."</p> - -<p>"Of course. It's an ill wind that blows nobody any good."</p> - -<p>"Well, this wind has blown me to you with five hundred a year."</p> - -<p>"Good, good! Yes, folios make one narrow. You shall expand my mind, -Tobias. You shall bring me into contact with the nineteenth century. -But I won't read any books but your own."</p> - -<p>"I don't write books."</p> - -<p>"No? Well, I'm thankful for small mercies. How long are you going to -stay with me?"</p> - -<p>"Till you grow tired of me."</p> - -<p>"Then, Tobias, you are settled here for the rest of your life."</p> - -<p>"My dear father. By the way, I want to ask a friend of mine down -here."</p> - -<p>"Not a woman?"</p> - -<p>"No; I haven't got that far yet. A fellow called Archie Maxwell. He -used to go to school with me, and we're great chums.</p> - -<p>"Tobias, no slang. You mean you are a David and Jonathan?"</p> - -<p>"I do. That's about the size of it."</p> - -<p>"Eheu, hinc illæ lachrymæ. I like not the nineteenth century talk. It -grates on the ear."</p> - -<p>"I beg your pardon, father; but can I have Archie Maxwell down?"</p> - -<p>"Certainly. Is he also in Grub Street?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, no! He's an engineer."</p> - -<p>"On the railway?"</p> - -<p>"No; a civil engineer--builds bridges."</p> - -<p>"Well, well, let the young man come; but he'll find it dull here."</p> - -<p>"Oh no, he won't, because you see, father, there's a lady."</p> - -<p>"Eh!"</p> - -<p>"Miss Kaituna Pethram, whom he loves."</p> - -<p>"Ho, ho! I know the young lady. She is a parishioner of mine. Her -father came into the title a year ago, and has gone out to New Zealand -again, leaving his daughter in charge of Mrs. Belswin."</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Belswin?"</p> - -<p>"Yes! a very charming lady who acts as chaperon."</p> - -<p>"Poor Archie."</p> - -<p>"What, are you afraid of the dragon who guards the golden apples?" -said the bookworm with great good humour. "Pooh! pooh! in my time -young men were not such faint-hearted lovers. If he really adores this -nymph of the ocean--she comes from New Zealand I believe--he'll soon -propitiate the dragon."</p> - -<p>"Is it an amiable dragon?"</p> - -<p>"Humph! I'm afraid not! Your Hercules must be stout-hearted."</p> - -<p>"What a pity Mrs. Valpy and her daughter are not the chaperons still."</p> - -<p>"Eh! why I think Miss Valpy requires a chaperon herself, but perchance -no Hercules eyes that golden fruit."</p> - -<p>Silence on the part of Tobias, and a blush on his cheek.</p> - -<p>"Tobias! Tobias," said his father, with uplifted finger, "you've been -looking over the garden wall of the Hesperides, and the golden fruit -of the Valpys tempts you. Eh! my son, you also are in love--with Miss -Valpy."</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"And your friend is in love with Miss Pethram."</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"And you both intend to stay with me for a time, so as to be near your -inamoratas."</p> - -<p>"If you please, father."</p> - -<p>Mr. Clendon smiled grimly and finished his glass of port, which he -really felt he needed.</p> - -<p>"Cupid! Cupid! what have I done that thus I should be Sir Pandarus of -Troy in my old age. Tobias, go to bed."</p> - -<p>"Good-night, father;" and he vanished.</p> - -<p>Sir Pandarus groaned.</p> - -<p>"Farewell, oh, lovely peace! I dwell no more under the shade of thy -desirable olive. Four lovers in one parish, and I the vicar thereof. -Alas! Alas! The Prodigal Son I sent abroad with curses has returned, -and he hath brought back his curse with him. Eheu infelici."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_06" href="#div1Ref_06">CHAPTER VI.</a></h4> -<h5>THE DRAGON.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-7px">"An elderly dragon with cold grey eyes,<br> -Tongue that gibes at a lover rash,<br> -Ears quite deaf to pathetic sighs<br> -Uttered by men who are scant of cash.</p> -<br> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-7px">"But when a millionaire comes to woo,<br> -The dragon inspires him not with fear.<br> -Her sole idea of love that is true<br> -Is measured by so many pounds a year."</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>Thornstream Manor, the residence of the Pethrams for many generations, -was a quaint old house, surrounded by pleasant grounds. A grey -weather-beaten structure of two stories, built on a slight rise, on -which were wide terraces down to the green lawns below, which were -girt some distance away by a circle of ancient trees. The house itself -was a long, low, embattlemented place between two sharply pointed -gables, beneath which were diamond-paned oriel windows. Along the -front other wide low windows, and a massive door set in a heavy stone -porch. The roofs above of deep-red tiles, with twisted chimneys here -and there, and the whole house covered with a clinging garment of dark -green ivy, as if to shelter it from the cold winds blowing across the -park. Seen at the end of the drive as it emerged from the trees, the -white terraced rise topped by the grey ivy-covered house, with the -tint of red afforded by the roof, looked singularly peaceful and -pleasant. The goddess with the olive branch had established herself in -this pleasant domain, and a brooding air of Sunday quiet pervaded the -place, as if it were indeed that delightful Castle of Indolence -whereof one James Thomson discourseth so pleasantly.</p> - -<p>The grounds were also charming--wide stretches of green lawn, -flower-beds filled with homely cottage flowers, still stone-rimmed -ponds, where broad-leaved water-lilies kept the sun from grilling the -hoary carp in the depths below. An antique dial with its warning -motto, and on the verge of the lush glass, heavily foliaged trees -making pleasant shades for the timid deer browsing round their gnarled -boles. White pigeons flashed in the blue sky round the grey walls of -Thornstream, or nestled among the trees with gentle cooings, while a -glimpse could be obtained every now and then of lazy cows in distant -meadows, chewing the cud of contentment. It was one of those scenes of -intense quiet which are only to be seen in full perfection in the -pleasant lands of pastoral England, a home, a veritable home, which -one engaged in the turmoil of the world would remember with regretful -longing. Peace, absolute peace, that most desirable of all blessings -was here. Peace, which youth scorns but which age prizes, brooded over -the homestead, and the Sleeping Beauty herself might have dreamed away -her hundred years in this happy English mansion without being -disturbed in any way.</p> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<p style="text-indent:-7px">"And on an English home--grey twilight poured,<br> -On dewy pastures, dewy trees,<br> -Softer than sleep--all things in order stored,<br> -A haunt of ancient Peace."</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>"I never understood those lines of Tennyson until I saw Thornstream."</p> - -<p>It was Kaituna who was speaking--Kaituna arrayed in a cool white -dress, standing on the terrace in the early morning looking over the -peaceful scene spread out before her. The birds were singing joyously -in the trees, the cool dew was lying on the grass, and this young -girl, reared in a far-distant country, was now viewing with dreamy -eyes the pleasant land of England.</p> - -<p>Beside her was Mrs. Belswin, in a simple dress of black serge, with -all her splendid hair smoothed firmly back, and a pensive look in her -fierce eyes--eyes which had now lost in a great measure their savage -expression, and which filled with soft maternal love when they rested -on the straight slim form of her daughter. In the sordid lodging in -Bloomsbury, in a gaudy dress, with her real nature unrestrained in any -way, she had looked like a savage; but now, with all her feelings well -under control, her sombre dress, and her demure look, she appeared -quite civilized. The savage was there, however, all the same, and -should occasion arise to excite her in any way, a keen observer could -easily see that the thin veneer of civilization would vanish, and the -true instinct of the uncivilized being would flash forth, with a force -all the greater for suppression. Her voice also had altered, as it was -no longer strident or harsh in its tones, and in replying to Kaituna's -remark anent Tennyson, it was as soft and sweet as that of a -Quakeress.</p> - -<p>"It is very beautiful in a mild way," she said quietly; "but I'm -afraid I should grow weary of this everlasting tranquillity."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Mrs. Belswin, I'm sure that truer happiness can be found here -than in the world."</p> - -<p>"I dare say you are right, Kaituna; but the sentiment sounds curious, -coming from one so young."</p> - -<p>"It's the fault of my colonial training," replied Kaituna, with a -smile. "Life in New Zealand is very quiet, you know. When I came -home with papa I was quite bewildered by the noise and turmoil of -London--every one rushing here and there--restless crowds in the -streets, chattering women in the houses--no rest, no pause, no quiet. -Oh, it was terrible."</p> - -<p>"And down here?"</p> - -<p>"Down here it is charming. One can dream dreams in this delicious old -place, and take life easily, not at the railroad speed of London -folk."</p> - -<p>"You are too young for a hermit, Kaituna."</p> - -<p>"Oh, but I'm not a hermit, I assure you. I'm fond of gaiety. I -adore balls and garden-parties. I'm never tired of riding and -tennis-playing, but I can get all those in the country, and can live -slowly, which I like. The hurry-skurry of town life would kill me."</p> - -<p>"You like England, then?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, very much, very much indeed! It's a wonderful country; but my -home has my dearest love. Life there is so pleasant, so steady-going. -You can take pleasure at your own time, if you want to. Here in -England it is all fever and excitement. When I stayed in London I felt -as if it were a nightmare with the gas and glare and endless streets, -with their endless crowds rushing on--on, without rest or pause. Ah, -if you saw New Zealand I am sure you would like it. Do you know New -Zealand?"</p> - -<p>"No," answered Mrs. Belswin, quietly. "I do not know New Zealand; but -I have been in Melbourne."</p> - -<p>"Ah, that's too much like London."</p> - -<p>"Say rather San Francisco. Melbourne is wonderfully like 'Frisco."</p> - -<p>"Are you an American, Mrs. Belswin?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; I was born in New Orleans."</p> - -<p>"Then you are----"</p> - -<p>"A Creole," finished Mrs. Belswin, quickly. "Yes, you can tell that -from my appearance. I have black blood in my veins. In America it is -thought a crime. Here it doesn't matter."</p> - -<p>"I've got black blood in my veins also," said Kaituna, with a flush in -her olive-tinted cheek; "that is Maori blood. My mother was the -granddaughter of a chief."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin moved a few steps away, as she could not trust herself -to speak, so tumultuous were the feelings raging in her bosom. Her -child--her own child, and yet she dare not take her to her bosom and -tell her the truth. The girl's innocent words wounded her to the -quick, and it needed all the stoical resignation of her savage nature -to enable her to preserve a calm demeanour.</p> - -<p>"I don't remember my mother at all," went on Kaituna, idly leaning her -arms on the terrace. "She died when I was a child; but I often picture -her to myself."</p> - -<p>"And the picture?" asked Mrs. Belswin, unsteadily, her face turned -away.</p> - -<p>"Oh, a tall, beautiful woman, with dark eyes and haughty bearing. -Proud to all, but loving to me. I once saw a picture of Pocahontas, -and I always fancied my mother a woman like that--wild and free and -majestic. Ah, it was a great sorrow to me that she died. I should have -loved her so. I used to envy other girls when I saw them with their -mothers, because I have none. Oh, it must be very, very beautiful to -have a mother to take care of you--to whom you can appeal for comfort -and sympathy; but--but--Mrs. Belswin, why, you are crying!"</p> - -<p>She was crying--crying bitterly, and the tears ran down her dark -cheeks in great drops that showed how much she was moved by the girl's -idle words--tears that were caused by the terrible agony of carrying -on the part she was playing. Kaituna, in great wonder, approached her; -but at the light touch of the girl's fingers the woman shrank back -with a low cry of fear.</p> - -<p>"Don't touch me!--don't touch me, child!"</p> - -<p>Kaituna paused with a puzzled look on her face, upon which Mrs. -Belswin dried her eyes hurriedly, and took the girl's hand.</p> - -<p>"I beg your pardon, Kaituna," she said, with forced composure, "but -you must not mind me, my dear. I am not very well at present. My -nerves are out of order."</p> - -<p>"I hope I have said nothing to vex you?"</p> - -<p>"No, dear, no! But I--I had a little child of my own once, -and--and--and she died."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I am so sorry!" cried Kaituna, touched to the heart by this -pathetic confession. "I should not have spoken as I did."</p> - -<p>"You did not know, my dear. It was not your fault. I lost my little -girl many years ago, but the wound is quite fresh, and it bleeds on -occasions. I am all right now, Kaituna--don't look so dismayed. We -have all our skeletons, you know. Mine--mine is a little child!"</p> - -<p>"Dear Mrs. Belswin," said Kaituna, touching her with tender fingers, -"I have only known you a fortnight, it is true, but there is something -about you that draws me to you. I don't know what it is, as I don't -make friends easily, but with you, why, I feel as if I had known you -all my life."</p> - -<p>"My dearest!" replied Mrs. Belswin, taking the girl in her arms with -fierce affection, "you do not know how happy your words have made me. -If my daughter had lived, she would have been just like you now--just -like you. Let me give you my love, dear--my dead love that has starved -for so many years."</p> - -<p>She pressed the girl to her breast, but Kaituna hesitated. As she had -said, she was not ready in making new friends, but there was something -in the tones of Mrs. Belswin's voice, something about the look in her -eyes, in the pressure of her arms, that sent a thrill through her, -and, hardly knowing what she did, with sudden impulse she kissed the -woman on the mouth, upon which Mrs. Belswin, with an inarticulate cry, -leant her face on the girl's shoulder and burst into tears.</p> - -<p>Was it Nature that was working here to bring mother and daughter -together?--Nature, that has her secret springs, her mysterious -instincts, which enable those of one flesh to recognise one another by -some hidden impulse. Who can tell? Science dissects the body, analyses -the brain, gives hard and fast reasons for the emotions, but there is -something that escapes her prying eyes, something that no one can -describe, that no one has seen--a something which, obeying the laws of -being, recognises its affinity in another body, and flies forth to -meet it. We boasted scientists of the nineteenth century have -discovered a great deal about that wonderful being--man, but there is -one secret which is hidden from all save God Himself, and that is the -secret of maternal instinct.</p> - -<p>Suddenly they were disturbed by the sound of the gong, and hastily -drying their tears--for Kaituna had been crying as much as Mrs. -Belswin--they went in to breakfast.</p> - -<p>Such a pleasant room, with bright, cheerful paper chintz-covered -furniture, and the white cloth of the table covered with hearty -country fare. Mrs. Belswin took her seat at the head of the table to -pour out the coffee, and Kaituna sat at the side, looking over the -bunch of homely flowers, brilliant among the dishes, out on to the -fair country beyond. By the side of her plate Kaituna found a letter -with the New Zealand postmark on it, and, knowing it came from her -father, opened it at once.</p> - -<p>"Papa will be back in three months," she said, when she had finished -reading it. "His business will not take him so long as he expected."</p> - -<p>"What is the business, dear?" asked Mrs. Belswin, with her face bent -over her plate.</p> - -<p>"Selling land. You know, my mother brought him a good deal of -property, and he is now going to sell it."</p> - -<p>"Going to sell it!" reiterated Mrs. Belswin, in angry surprise. "Why -is he going to do that?"</p> - -<p>Kaituna was rather astonished at her tone, on seeing which Mrs. -Belswin hastened to excuse herself.</p> - -<p>"I beg your pardon, my dear," she said apologetically, "but I thought -land in the colony was so very valuable?"</p> - -<p>"So it is; but papa desires to establish himself in England altogether -now that he has come in for the title, so he wishes to sell his New -Zealand property and invest the money in some other way; besides the -value of property in the colony has decreased of late years."</p> - -<p>"You seem to be well up in the subject, Kaituna."</p> - -<p>"I could hardly help being so! Papa was always talking about the -Government and their dealings with the land. You see, Mrs. Belswin, -politics with us are more domestic than here. In England they deal -with kings and governments, but there we attend to the welfare of the -people--the parcelling out of the land, and all those kinds of things. -I'm afraid I've got but a hazy idea of the true facts of the case, but -you understand what I mean."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I understand," replied Mrs. Belswin, composedly--and so she did, -a deal better than Kaituna herself. "So your papa is coming home in -three months. I suppose you will be very pleased to see him?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes. I am very fond of my father. We are more like brother and -sister than anything else. People say that papa is supercilious and -haughty, but I never saw it myself."</p> - -<p>"He could hardly be so to you."</p> - -<p>"No! he is all that is good and kind. I try to make him as happy as -possible, for it was a heavy blow to him when he lost my mother."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin turned away her head to conceal a sneer.</p> - -<p>"So I try to supply my mother's place as much as possible."</p> - -<p>"I'm sure you succeed," said Mrs. Belswin warmly; "he can hardly miss -your mother when he has you beside him."</p> - -<p>"That's what he says, but of course I know he says it only to please -me. A daughter cannot supply the place of a wife."</p> - -<p>"In this case it seems she can," said the lady caustically; "but what -will he do when you marry?"</p> - -<p>Kaituna blushed and cast down her eyes.</p> - -<p>"Well, I--I have not thought of marriage yet."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Kaituna!"</p> - -<p>"No, really," said the girl, raising her clear eyes to Mrs. Belswin's -face. "I should not think of marrying without gaining papa's consent."</p> - -<p>"Then you have not seen the prince yet?"</p> - -<p>"The prince?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, the fairy prince who is to awake the sleeping beauty."</p> - -<p>Kaituna blushed again, and laughed in rather an embarrassed manner.</p> - -<p>"Dear Mrs. Belswin, what curious things you say," she replied -evasively. "I have not seen any one in New Zealand I cared about, and -since my arrival in England I have lived so quietly that I can hardly -have met the fairy prince you speak of."</p> - -<p>"When the hour arrives the fairy prince comes with it," said Mrs. -Belswin, oracularly. "My dear, you are too charming to remain with -your father all your life, as I am sure he must acknowledge himself. -Have the young men of to-day no eyes or no hearts that they can see my -Kaituna without falling in love with her?"</p> - -<p>"I'm sure I don't know. No one has spoken to me of love yet."</p> - -<p>"Ah! it's not the speaking alone, dear! You are a woman, and the -instinct of a woman can tell what a man means without him using his -tongue."</p> - -<p>"But you see I am not versed in love lore."</p> - -<p>"My dear, you are a delightful girl in the first days of innocence. I -am glad to see that the bloom of maidenhood is not rubbed off you by -premature wisdom in love-affairs. A girl who flirts from her teens -upwards, loses that delightful unconsciousness which is the great -charm of a maiden. You have lived secluded in New Zealand. You are -living secluded in England, and the world has passed you by. But the -fairy prince will arrive, my dear, and his kiss will awaken you from -the sleep of girlhood into the real life of womanly existence."</p> - -<p>"I thought such things only happened in novels."</p> - -<p>"No, dear, no. They happen around us every day. When you see a girl -with a blushing face and a dreaming eye, or hear a young fellow -singing gaily for very joy of life, you will know that love has come -to them both, and they are telling each other the beautiful story, in -the full belief that such story is quite original, though Adam told it -to Eve in the garden of Eden."</p> - -<p>"It sounds delightful," sighed the girl, pensively. "I suppose you are -telling me your experience."</p> - -<p>"My experience," echoed Mrs. Belswin, flushing acutely. "No, child, -no. I have had my romance, like all women, but it ended sadly."</p> - -<p>"I understand," said Kaituna quietly; "you are thinking of your lost -child."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin was about to make some passionate rejoinder, but checked -herself suddenly, and went on eating her breakfast with forced -composure.</p> - -<p>Kaituna also became silent, thinking over what had been said, and -there was no further conversation until the butler entered and handed -the girl a letter.</p> - -<p>"From the vicarage, miss," he said ceremoniously, and retired.</p> - -<p>The letter proved to be from Toby Clendon, being a few lines -announcing the fact that Mr. Maxwell was staying with him, and that -they would both come on that afternoon to Thornstream to renew the -acquaintance so pleasantly begun at Marsh-on-the Sea.</p> - -<p>"What is the matter?" asked Mrs. Belswin, staring in some astonishment -at the rosy face and bright eyes of the girl. "Nothing is wrong, I -hope?"</p> - -<p>"No! no! I'm sure I don't look as if anything were wrong. It's this -letter from Mr. Clendon."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Clendon?" repeated Mrs. Belswin, taking the letter handed to her -by Kaituna. "Is that the charming young fellow we met the other day?"</p> - -<p>"Yes!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, I see he has a friend staying with him, and they are going to -call this afternoon. Kaituna, I am a sorceress--a witch, my dear, I -should have been burnt in the middle ages as a practitioner of the -black art. Give me your hand."</p> - -<p>"What for," asked Kaituna in some confusion, as Mrs. Belswin took her -by the wrist.</p> - -<p>"For a magical ceremony! There! Now tell me. Is Mr. Clendon the -prince?"</p> - -<p>"No! No! No!"</p> - -<p>"That's very emphatic. I mistrust emphasis in a girl. Well, we will -dismiss Mr. Clendon, though he is very delightful. What about Mr. -Maxwell? Ah! Now I know! Your pulse leaped at the name. Your face is -rosy, your eyes are bright. By the white witchcraft I practise I -interpret these signs. You are in love, my dear."</p> - -<p>"No!"</p> - -<p>"And with Mr. Maxwell."</p> - -<p>Kaituna snatched away her hands with a little laugh and covered her -burning face.</p> - -<p>"You the sleeping beauty," said Mrs. Belswin, with mock severity. "My -dear, your sleep is over. The true prince has arrived and the hundred -years are at an end."</p> - -<p>The girl made no reply, but between her fingers one bright eye looked -forth at her chaperon.</p> - -<p>"I will talk to Mr. Maxwell this afternoon, and see if he is a man -worthy of you."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I'm sure he is."</p> - -<p>"Ah! you have betrayed yourself. It is the prince after all. But what -about your father?"</p> - -<p>"My father will not cross me in this."</p> - -<p>"Of course not, provided your prince is rich."</p> - -<p>"Rich or poor; it doesn't matter. Papa will deny me nothing. He is the -kindest man in the world."</p> - -<p>"Humph!" muttered Mrs. Belswin under her breath. "He has altered since -my time, then."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_07" href="#div1Ref_07">CHAPTER VII.</a></h4> -<h5>THE GARDEN OF HESPERIDES.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-7px"> -"In a garden fair you met me,<br> -And I told you all my woes.<br> -Then, in case you might forget me,<br> -I bestowed on you a rose.</p> -<br> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-7px">"Love had captive to you brought me,<br> -For I felt his arrow's smart;<br> -So in mercy quick you sought me,<br> -And bestowed on me a heart."</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>Oh, wonderful! wonderful! and thrice wonderful was the soul of Vicar -Clendon seeing that in this mummified body, battered by the assaults -of sixty years, it still kept itself fresh and green in the very -heyday of perennial youth. In spite of his grubbing among dusty books; -in spite of the hardening process of continually celebrating -marriages; in spite of the pessimistic ideas which come with old age, -he could still feel sympathetic thrills when he heard the sighings of -two lone lovers. He should have frowned and looked askance on such -youthful foolery; he should have forgotten the days when Plancus was -consul, and he wooed Amaryllis with bashful courtesy; he should have -preached sermons a mile long on the sin of going to the temple of -Venus, but, strange to tell, he did not. This withered old husk -encased a fresh young soul, and the venerable clergyman felt a boyish -pleasure in the courting of these young men. Is the age of miracles -past, when such things can happen--when sober age can sympathize with -frolic youth without pointing out the follies of the world, as seen -telescopically from a distance of sixty years? No! oh, no! in spite of -cynicism, and pessimism, and various other isms, all belonging to the -same detestable class, there are still those among us whose souls -bloom freshly, though cased in antique frames.</p> - -<p>"Your father," said Archie Maxwell, after making the acquaintance of -the bookworm, "your father, Toby, is a brick."</p> - -<p>"My father," stated Toby solemnly, "is not a brick, for a brick is -hard, and the pater is anything but that. On the contrary, he is as -soft as butter. If you wish to express approval of my progenitor, O -quoter of slang, say that he is the ninth wonder of the world--which -he is."</p> - -<p>"And why, O utterer of dark sayings?"</p> - -<p>"Because he is an old man who can see his son in love without calling -him a fool."</p> - -<p>This was true, and Toby appreciated the novelty of possessing such a -father; demonstrating such appreciation by being a most attentive son, -which exhilarated the old gentleman to such a degree that he became -younger every day in appearance: thereby proving this saying of a -forgotten sage to be true--</p> - -<p>"The body takes its complexion from the soul, not the soul from the -body."</p> - -<p>Archie Maxwell, having at the cost of many lies postponed his trip to -Buenos Ayres, has duly arrived, and, strange to say, the vicar takes a -great fancy to him. After living for so many years with no other -company than a rusty housekeeper and a library of rustier books, he is -quite delighted at the presence of two young men in the house, and -actually foregoes his after-dinner sleep in order to talk with -them while they smoke their pipes. Archie tells him all his history, -of his travels, his struggles, his income, his aspirations, his -love-affairs--in fact, everything about himself, and the old man's -heart warms towards this handsome, graceless youth, who he sees has -the makings of a fine man about him. He listens sympathetically to the -endless catalogue of Kaituna's charms, to the hopes and fears and -heart-burnings which are part of the disease of love, and then -undergoes the same thing in duplicate from Toby. Indeed, so genial is -he that both the young men wax eloquent on the merits of their -respective Dulcineas, and spare him no detail, however small, of their -perfections.</p> - -<p>As to Toby's suit, Mr. Clendon thinks it will prosper if Thomasina is -that way inclined, as Mrs. Valpy is a widow and would be only too glad -to see her daughter in the safe keeping of such an excellent young -man; but when questioned about Archie's wooing, the sage is doubtful. -He has seen Sir Rupert and thinks him haughty and supercilious--not at -all the kind of man to bestow his daughter on a pauper engineer, -however good his prospects. The best thing he can do is to bid Archie -wait and hope. If Kaituna loves him, parental opposition may be -overcome; but the course of true love never did run smooth, and Archie -must be prepared for trouble. But as gold is refined by passing -through fire, so both these young lovers, if frizzled up in the -furnace of affection, may benefit by the ordeal, and prove their -mutual passions to be strong and enduring, whereas at present it may -merely be the effect of juxtaposition and a desire to pass the time.</p> - -<p>Archie is horrified at this flippant view of the case being taken by -venerable age, and vows by the stars, the moon--yea--by the heart of -his sweet mistress, that the love he bears her is not of to-day or -to-morrow, but of all time, and that nothing shall prevent him -marrying the object of his passion, even if he should have to adopt -that last resource of young Lochinvar--a runaway marriage.</p> - -<p>So things stand at present, and Toby sends a note over to Kaituna, -asking permission to renew their acquaintance with her; then, without -waiting for such permission to be granted--the note being a mere -matter of form--sets off Thornstream-wards with his friend Archibald.</p> - -<p>Before they start on this errand of charity on the part of Toby, and -wooing on the part of Archibald, the sage discourseth.</p> - -<p>"You are going to seek the Garden of Hesperides, but there you will -find no golden fruit. No; the dragons are better employed. They watch -two beautiful maidens, and eye jealously wandering knights, such as -yourselves, who would steal them. I am speaking not of the dragons, -but of the maidens. Nevertheless, from this quest I know not how you -will return. The dragon who guards the princess of Tobias is amenable -to reason, and if the son succeeds in gaining the love of the princess -the father may gain the consent of the dragon. But the other dragon, -Mr. Maxwell, is a fire-breathing beast, and even if you succeed in -overcoming this first danger your princess is still beyond your reach, -because of her father. True, at present he is away, but when he -returns, young man--oh, when he returns!"</p> - -<p>"When he does it will be too late; for I shall have gained the heart -of his daughter."</p> - -<p>"True. When the steed is stolen it is useless to shut the stable-door. -Go, Mr. Maxwell, I see you have all the egotism and confidence of -youth necessary to enable you to achieve this quest successfully."</p> - -<p>So they went.</p> - -<p>It was a bright summer day, and the sun shone brightly in a blue sky -dappled with fleecy clouds. Gently blew the wind through the trees, -rustling their foliage, wherein sang the joyous birds. Thrush and -black-bird and ouzel and redcap piped gaily on the swaying boughs in -very gladness of heart. At intervals there sounded the mellow voice of -the cuckoo, and from the blue sky rained the song of the lark, -invisible from the verdant earth. In the quaint gardens of Thornstream -Manor bloomed the flowers--roses, roses everywhere in rich profusion, -from pale cold buds to deeply crimsoned blossoms. A sudden flame -of scarlet geraniums burns along the foot of the garden wall, and -among their cool green leaves flash the orange circles of the -marigolds. Rosemary dark and sombre, <i>old man</i>, with its thin leaves -like grey-green seaweed, form beds of reposeful tint, overlaid by -brilliant coloured flowers, scarlet and blue and yellow; but the -prevailing tint is white. Foxgloves with delicate white bells round -which hum the noisy bees--scattered clusters of pale flushed roses, -other flowers with white petals all streaked and dappled and spotted -with innumerable tints. A beautiful garden, truly, and the thievish -wind stealing odours from the profusion of sweets carried them on -languid wings to Mrs. Belswin and Kaituna, sitting on the terrace.</p> - -<p>They had erected a great Japanese umbrella at one end, and were -sitting beneath it in basket chairs. Between them stood a small -table, on which lay some feminine work and a yellow-backed novel, -but neither the work nor the novel were in requisition, for both -ladies were chatting to Toby and Archie, as they lounged near in their -cool-looking gray suits. Both gentlemen, by kind permission of the -feminine half of the party, were smoking cigarettes, and Mrs. Belswin, -knowing how it would shock Kaituna, bravely suppressed a desire to -have one also.</p> - -<p>Very handsome she looked in her dark dress, with a bunch of crimson -poppies at her breast, but handsomer still looked Kaituna, her pale -olive face delicately flushed as she toyed with a heap of pale white -blossoms, and talked gaily to Archibald.</p> - -<p>"I think instead of spoiling those flowers you might make me a -button-hole," said the audacious Archie in a small voice.</p> - -<p>Kaituna looked doubtful.</p> - -<p>"You have a button-hole."</p> - -<p>"One of my own gathering," he said, throwing it away. "No man can -arrange flowers; now you being a woman----"</p> - -<p>"Can arrange them charmingly. Don't pay me any more compliments, Mr. -Maxwell."</p> - -<p>"Well, I won't, if you give me a button-hole."</p> - -<p>"I have nothing here worth making up," said Miss Pethram, rising -suddenly and letting all the flowers fall on the terrace. "Come down -with me to the garden. Mrs. Belswin, Mr. Maxwell and I are going to -pick flowers."</p> - -<p>"Very well, dear," replied Mrs. Belswin, languidly, "I do not mind so -long as I am not expected to come also."</p> - -<p>"Two's company," muttered Toby softly.</p> - -<p>"What did you say?" asked the chaperon quickly.</p> - -<p>"Oh, nothing.</p> - -<p>"We'll leave you two here to talk," said Kaituna, gaily. "Come, Mr. -Maxwell, you shall choose your own flowers."</p> - -<p>They descended the steps into the garden.</p> - -<p>"I'd rather you did so."</p> - -<p>"I--oh, I should not know which to choose."</p> - -<p>"Then, suppose I suggest something. A red rose, which means love, and -a white rose, which means silence."</p> - -<p>"And the red and white roses together?"</p> - -<p>"Mean silent love."</p> - -<p>"Oh! I see you are versed in the language of flowers. Does it form -part of the education of an engineer?"</p> - -<p>"No, but it does of every young man. Thank you, Miss Pethram. Two red -roses and no white one, that means double love. The love of a girl for -a boy, two buds; of a woman for a man, full blown blossoms."</p> - -<p>"Why do you not say the love of a man for a woman?"</p> - -<p>"Eh! ah, well you know, ladies first always. Let me ask you to put -these two red rosebuds in my coat."</p> - -<p>Kaituna hesitated a moment, and looked down at the green grass, -seeking for some excuse. None feasible enough came into her mind, so, -still with downcast eyes, she took the flowers from his outstretched -hand and placed them in his coat. He was taller than she, and could -just espy her face flushing under the broad-brimmed straw hat, and she -must have felt the devouring passion of his eyes instinctively, for -her hands busied with the flowers trembled.</p> - -<p>"You have given me no white rose, I see," said Archie, in an unsteady -voice, "so I am not compelled to keep silence. May I speak?"</p> - -<p>"No--no--oh, no!"</p> - -<p>She had finished fastening those obstinate flowers with a pin, and -they had revenged themselves by wounding her finger with a thorn.</p> - -<p>"Oh! Oh!"</p> - -<p>"Miss Pethram, what's the matter? Oh, have you hurt your finger?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, but it's not very sore."</p> - -<p>"Why, it's bleeding," he cried in alarm, taking her hand; "let me bind -my handkerchief round it."</p> - -<p>"Oh, no!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes! You must obey your doctor. There! that's better."</p> - -<p>He still held her hand, and before she was aware of what he was doing, -bent down suddenly and kissed it.</p> - -<p>"Oh!" she cried, blushing, "you must not do that."</p> - -<p>"Kaituna!"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Maxwell! If you say another word I'll go back to my chaperon."</p> - -<p>"But----"</p> - -<p>"I won't hear another word! So there!"</p> - -<p>Archie looked down disconsolately, not knowing what to say, when -suddenly he heard a gay laugh in the distance, and on raising his head -saw a white figure flitting away across the lawn towards the sun-dial. -He hesitated a moment, and then laughed softly.</p> - -<p>"Faint heart never won fair lady."</p> - -<p>Certainly nobody could accuse Archie Maxwell of being faint-hearted, -for he ran after his sweet enemy with the utmost courage. When he -reached her she was standing by the sun-dial, and the two spectators -on the terrace saw the two actors suddenly appear on the stage. One -spectator--a woman--frowned; the other--a man--laughed.</p> - -<p>"Don't go, Mrs. Belswin," said Toby, seeing she was about to rise. "We -are having such a jolly conversation."</p> - -<p>"That's a very artful remark, but it doesn't deceive me."</p> - -<p>"Artful! I assure you, Mrs. Belswin, I am the most unsophisticated of -men--a perfect child!"</p> - -<p>"So I should judge from your description of London life," said Mrs. -Belswin, drily, leaning back in her chair. "But perhaps you are not -aware, Mr. Clendon, that I am Miss Pethram's chaperon?"</p> - -<p>"Happy Miss Pethram. I wish you were mine."</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid the task of keeping you in order would be beyond my -powers."</p> - -<p>"Do you think so?" observed Toby, sentimentally. He was a young man -who would have flirted with his grandmother in default of any one -better, and Mrs. Belswin being a handsome woman, this fickle youth -improved the shining hours. Mrs. Belswin, however, saw through him -with ease, not having gone through the world without learning -something of the male sex, so she laughed gaily, and turned the -conversation with feminine tact.</p> - -<p>"You are a good friend, Mr. Clendon."</p> - -<p>"I am! I am everything that is good!"</p> - -<p>"Your trumpeter is dead, I see."</p> - -<p>"Yes, poor soul! He died from overwork."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin laughed again at Toby's verbal dexterity, and then began -to talk about Maxwell, which was the subject nearest her heart. The -lady wished to know all about Archie's position, so as to see if he -was a suitable lover for Kaituna, and the man being a firm friend of -the love-lorn swain, lied calmly, with that great ease which only -comes from long experience.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Maxwell is a great friend of yours, isn't he?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes! We were boys together,"</p> - -<p>"You're not much more now. What is his profession?"</p> - -<p>"He's an engineer! Awfully clever. He'd have invented the steam-engine -if Stephenson hadn't been before him."</p> - -<p>"Would he indeed? What a pity he wasn't born before the age of steam. -By the way, how is he getting on in his profession?"</p> - -<p>"Splendidly! He's been in China, building railways, and at the end of -the year he's going out to Buenos Ayres to build a bridge."</p> - -<p>"He's got no money, I suppose?"</p> - -<p>"Well, no! He's not rich; but he's got great expectations."</p> - -<p>"Has he? But you can't marry on great expectations."</p> - -<p>"No; I can't, but Archie can."</p> - -<p>"Indeed! You forget there are always two people to a bargain of -marriage."</p> - -<p>"There's double the number in this case."</p> - -<p>"How so?"</p> - -<p>"There's Archie, Miss Pethram, Mrs. Belswin, and Sir Rupert Pethram."</p> - -<p>There was a pause after this, as the lady was pondering over the -situation. Toby had his eyes fastened on the two figures at the dial, -and he smiled. Mrs. Belswin, looking up suddenly, caught him smiling, -and spoke sharply--</p> - -<p>"Mr. Clendon! I believe you to be a sensible man. If my belief is -correct, stop laughing and listen to me."</p> - -<p>Toby became as serious as a judge at once.</p> - -<p>"I am not blind," continued Mrs. Belswin, looking at him, "and I can -see plainly what is going on. As you know, I am responsible to Sir -Rupert Pethram for his daughter's well-being, and this sort of thing -won't do."</p> - -<p>"What sort of thing?" asked Toby, innocently.</p> - -<p>"Oh, you know well enough. Mr. Maxwell making love to my charge is -ridiculous. Sir Rupert would never consent to his daughter marrying a -poor engineer, and I'm not going to have Kaituna's happiness marred -for a foolish love-affair."</p> - -<p>"But what can I do?"</p> - -<p>"Discontinue your visits here, and tell your friend to do the same."</p> - -<p>"He won't do what I ask him."</p> - -<p>"Then I'll take Kaituna away."</p> - -<p>"It's no use. He'll follow. Archie's the most obstinate fellow in the -world, and he's too much in love with Miss Pethram to give her up -without a struggle. Why, do you know, Mrs. Belswin, he gave up a good -billet at Buenos Ayres because it would have taken him away from her."</p> - -<p>"I thought you said he was going out there at the end of the year?"</p> - -<p>"So he is. But it's not half such a good billet. The one he has given -up is worth two hundred pounds a year more."</p> - -<p>"And he gave it up for the sake of Kaituna?"</p> - -<p>"Yes! He's madly in love with her."</p> - -<p>"He was very foolish to jeopardise his success in life because of a -love-affair, particularly when nothing can come of it."</p> - -<p>"But why shouldn't anything come of it? I'm sure you will be a friend -to these lovers."</p> - -<p>"These lovers," repeated Mrs. Belswin jealously. "Do you think Kaituna -loves him."</p> - -<p>"I'm sure of it."</p> - -<p>"You seem very learned in love, Mr. Clendon; perhaps you are in love -yourself."</p> - -<p>A blush that had been absent for years crept into the bronze of Toby's -cheeks.</p> - -<p>"Perhaps I am. I may as well tell the truth and shame the----</p> - -<p>"Mr. Clendon!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, you understand. I am in love, so is Archie. He loves your charge; -I love another girl. Be a kind, good friend, Mrs. Belswin, and help -Archie to make Miss Pethram Mrs. Maxwell."</p> - -<p>"What about Sir Rupert?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, you can persuade him, I'm sure."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin frowned.</p> - -<p>"I have no influence with Sir Rupert," she said shortly, and rose to -her feet. "Come with me, Mr. Clendon, and we will go to Kaituna."</p> - -<p>"You won't help them?"</p> - -<p>"I can't, I tell you," she replied impatiently. "From all I can see, -your friend seems a true-hearted man, but I shall have to know him a -long time before I can say he is fit for my--for Miss Pethram. But -even if I approve it is of no use. Sir Rupert is the person to give -his consent."</p> - -<p>"Well?"</p> - -<p>"And he'll never give it."</p> - -<p>Toby felt depressed at this, and followed Mrs. Belswin meekly to the -couple at the sun-dial. The said couple, both nervous and flushed, to -all appearances having been talking--Chinese metaphysics.</p> - -<p>"Kaituna, don't you think these gentlemen would like some afternoon -tea?" said Mrs. Belswin sweetly.</p> - -<p>"I dare say they would," replied Kaituna with great composure. "What -do you say, Mr. Clendon?"</p> - -<p>She did not address herself to Archie, who stood sulkily by the dial -following the figures with his finger. Toby glanced from one to the -other, saw they were both embarrassed, and promptly made up his mind -how to act.</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid we won't have time, Miss Pethram," he, replied, glancing -at his watch. "It's nearly four, and we have some distance to walk."</p> - -<p>"Well, if you won't have tea you will take a glass of wine," said Mrs. -Belswin, looking at Archie; then, without waiting for a reply, she -made him follow her, and walked towards the house.</p> - -<p>Toby followed with Kaituna, and surely never were maid or man more -unsuited to each other. He was bold, she was shy. He talked, she -remained silent, till they were in the drawing-room, and then the -feminine element broke forth.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Clendon," she said, in a whisper.</p> - -<p>"Yes! speak low if you speak love."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?"</p> - -<p>"It's not mine. It's Shakespeare's. By the way, you wanted to say -something."</p> - -<p>"I do! Tell him I didn't mean it."</p> - -<p>She flitted away and Toby gasped.</p> - -<p>"Tell who? Didn't mean what? Things are getting mixed. Thank you, I'll -take a glass of sherry."</p> - -<p>How we all act in this world. Here were four people, each with -individual ideas regarding the situation, and yet they chatted about -the weather, the crops, the country--about everything except what they -were thinking about. Mrs. Belswin and Toby did most of the talking, -but Kaituna and Archie put in a word every now and then for the sake -of appearances.</p> - -<p>At last the young men took their departure, and when left alone with -Kaituna, Mrs. Belswin drew her caressingly to her breast.</p> - -<p>"I like your prince, my dear."</p> - -<p>"I don't."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Kaituna, you've been quarrelling."</p> - -<p>"I haven't! He has! He doesn't understand me."</p> - -<p>"Does a man ever understand a woman?"</p> - -<p>"Of course! If he loves her."</p> - -<p>"Then in this case there ought to be no misunderstanding, for I am -sure he loves you."</p> - -<p>"Oh, do you think so? Do you really think so?"</p> - -<p>"My dear," said Mrs. Belswin, as the girl hid her face on the breast -of the chaperon, "I am quick at judging a man. All women are. It's -instinct. I think Mr. Maxwell an honourable young fellow, and very -charming. He would make you a good husband, but your father will never -consent to your marrying a poor man."</p> - -<p>"Oh, you don't know papa."</p> - -<p>"Don't I?" said Mrs. Belswin grimly, and closed the discussion.</p> - -<p>This was one side of the question--and the other?</p> - -<p>"We have," said Archie, in deep despair, "been to the Garden of -Hesperides, and the dragon has beaten us?"</p> - -<p>"Have you quarrelled with your mash?" asked Toby, leaving allegory for -common sense.</p> - -<p>"My mash! Toby, you are growing vulgar. I did not quarrel with -Kaituna, but we had words."</p> - -<p>"Several hundred, I should think. What was the row?"</p> - -<p>"How coarse you are!" said the refined Archie. "There was no row. I -spoke of myself in the third person."</p> - -<p>"When there are only two people, and those are of the opposite sex, -you shouldn't introduce a third person. Well, what did you say?"</p> - -<p>"I asked her whether she would accept a poor man if he proposed to -her."</p> - -<p>"And she said?"</p> - -<p>"She said 'no.'"</p> - -<p>Archie's face was tragic in its deep gloom, so Toby comforted him.</p> - -<p>"Old boy!"</p> - -<p>"Yes," said the despairing lover.</p> - -<p>"She said she didn't mean it."</p> - -<p>"What! Did she say that to you?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"Toby," cried Archie, with great fervour, "I love that girl!"</p> - -<p>"So you've said a hundred times."</p> - -<p>"And I'll marry her!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, will you?" said Toby, grinning. "I can paint your future: a -little cottage, a nice income, a charming girl----"</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes!"</p> - -<p>"Don't you wish you may get it?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, Toby, if you only knew----"</p> - -<p>"I do know. I know all about it, so don't rhapsodise. And I know -another thing; I'm hungry, so hurry up."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_08" href="#div1Ref_08">CHAPTER VIII.</a></h4> -<h5>MRS. BELSWIN'S CORRESPONDENCE.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-7px"> -"The wisest of plans<br> -A letter upsets,<br> -The penny post bans<br> -The wisest of plans<br> -Tho' woman's tho' man's,<br> -And then one regrets<br> -The wisest of plans<br> -A letter upsets."</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>About three weeks after the visit of Archie and his friend, Mrs. -Belswin was seated on the fallen trunk of a tree in Thornstream Park, -meditating deeply over two letters lying on her lap. Around her the -heavy foliage of the trees rustled in the chilly morning air, above -her the sun shot golden arrows from the blue sky, and below her feet -the lush grass, starred with delicate woodland flowers, sloped gently -down to a babbling brook, the brown waters of which rippled noisily -over its smooth stones.</p> - -<p>But Mrs. Belswin, with a frown on her face, paid no attention to these -things, being occupied with disagreeable thoughts, evoked by the -letters aforesaid; and after a pause she took up one impatiently, in -order to read it for the second time.</p> -<br> - -<p style="text-indent:5%">"<span class="sc">Carissima Mia</span>,</p> -<p style="text-indent:15%">"Why have you not written to me for so long? Every day I say, 'She -will send to me a letter,' and every day I find the postman comes not. -This is not right conduct to him who adores thee, my Lucrezia, and -there is fear in my heart that I may lose thee. I am now singing at -the Theatre Folly, in an <i>opera comique</i> called 'Sultana Fatima,' and -they pay me well, as they should, seeing I leave the grand Italian -Opera for this street music. But that my English is so good, I would -not have been the chief tenor here. It is not hard to sing, and I am -content since I waste not my time and am near thee. But thou, oh my -star adorable, must not stay long from him who hungers for thy smile. -When does the illustrious husband come again? for I know that he will -drive thee back to me, and we will go at once to my beautiful Italy. -Send me a letter and say when thou wilt come to me, or I swear that I -will come to thee in the country, in order to behold thee again. Thou -hast seen thy child those many months; now I will that thou should'st -return. I wait thy answer saying thou wilt return, or I myself will -behold thee in thy village. Cara signora, I kiss your hand,</p> - -<p style="text-indent:50%">"Thine unhappy</p> -<p style="text-indent:60%">"<span class="sc">Stephano</span>."</p> -<br> - -<p>When she had finished this, Mrs. Belswin let it fall on her lap, with -a shrug of her shoulders, and picked up the other letter, which -consisted of two lines----</p> - -<p>"Pethram returns in three weeks, so unless you want trouble you'd -better clear out.--A. D."</p> - -<p>"Had I?" said the reader, sneering. "I'm not so sure about that, Mr. -Dombrain. I'll leave this place when I choose. So Rupert Pethram is -coming home, and I, if I please, can see him. Husband and wife will -meet again after twenty years of separation. How dramatic the -interview will be! I can well imagine it, and yet I am not sure it -will take place. I cannot retain my position as chaperon to Kaituna if -he is in the house. I cannot disguise myself, for Kaituna would ask -the reason--besides, I'm too impulsive to act a part. If I go I part -from my daughter for ever; if I stay, Rupert will certainly recognise -me, and then he will force me to leave the house. What a terrible -position!--to be driven away after a glimpse of paradise; and yet I -can do nothing to help myself--positively nothing."</p> - -<p>She stopped short, with a feeling of deep anger at her helplessness, -but she did not attempt to disguise the truth from herself--she could -do nothing. The law was on the side of her husband, and she could -never hope to regain the position she had forfeited by her former -folly. 'As to Stephano Ferrari----</p> - -<p>"He'll do what he says," she muttered, glancing at the Italian's -flowery letter. "If I don't go to him, he will come to me, and, with -his hot foreign blood, may create a disturbance. I wouldn't mind for -myself, but Kaituna--I must consider Kaituna. If I refuse to go -with Stephano, he is quite the sort of man to tell her all, and that -would exile me from my daughter more than anything else. Rupert would -make me leave the house; Stephano would lose his temper at what he -calls my obstinacy--I should not care; but if Kaituna knew that I--her -mother--was alive, that I had lost my place in the world and become an -outcast, she would scorn me--my own child! Oh, I could not bear that, -it would kill me!"</p> - -<p>With her face in her hands she rocked to and fro in an agony of grief, -and when she recovered herself somewhat, her countenance, haggard and -worn, showed how bitterly she felt the position in which she was -placed.</p> - -<p>"If I could only die! I wish I could! Hell cannot be worse than the -life I live now. I am near my child, yet dare not tell her I am her -mother; but soon I shall have to go away, and be denied even the poor -consolation of being near her. If only I had the courage to kill -myself! But there, I have the courage, and would die willingly, were -it not for Kaituna. Oh, God! God! I have sinned deeply, but my -punishment is very heavy--heavier than I can bear!"</p> - -<p>She had risen to her feet, and was walking to and fro in the narrow -space of the glade, swinging her arms in a very storm of passionate -grief. The mask she had worn for the last few weeks so carefully was -now thrown aside, and she abandoned herself to her agony of despair in -the most reckless manner. She wept, she cried, she raved, she flung -herself on the ground--in fact, she gave herself up wholly to her mood -of the moment. Truly the quiet English glade had never seen a stranger -sight than that of this savage woman abandoning herself to transports -of impotent fury.</p> - -<p>"Why am I so helpless?" she cried furiously, lifting up her arms to -the blue sky. "If I have sinned, I have been punished. For twenty -years I have borne my punishment, but I can do so no longer. She is my -child--mine--mine--mine! They cannot take her from me. I am her -mother! God gave her to me, and man shall not take her away! I love -her better than her cold fiend of a father; she is my life, my soul, -my existence! If I leave her I shall die. I will not leave her! I will -not leave her! No! no! no!"</p> - -<p>She stamped furiously on the ground, gnashing her teeth with rage, and -staring at the sky with fierce face and clenched hands; but after a -time her fury exhausted itself, and, sitting down on the fallen tree -again, she began to weep bitterly.</p> - -<p>"My little child! oh, my little child! I can do nothing. I must leave -you, and go away alone. Ferrari loves me, but what is his love -compared to yours, dear. You have kissed me, you have placed your arms -round my neck, you have given my starved heart the love it desired; -and now--now I must give up all, and go away--for ever! Oh, cruel! -cruel! And I can do nothing!"</p> - -<p>Rocking herself to and fro, she wept quietly for a time; then, drying -her tears, put the letters in her pocket and rose to go.</p> - -<p>"I must not give way like this," she said to herself as she left the -glade. "It will do no good. I must see how I can manage to retain my -position. Rupert, Stephano, Dombrain--they are all against me. Three -against one, but I'll try my hardest to conquer them. It's a woman's -wit against men's brutality; but I'll fight--I'll fight and win. If I -win, I gain all. If I lose--oh, God! if I lose!--I surrender -everything."</p> - -<p>The morning was very chilly, in spite of its being summer, and Mrs. -Belswin, having all the love for warmth inherent in those born in the -tropics, shivered at the cold east wind, but feeling too upset to -return direct to the house and face Kaituna's inquiring gaze, made up -her mind to take a brisk walk. She wore a heavy sealskin mantle, and -thrusting her hands into the deep pockets, walked quickly against the -wind, thinking deeply over her position.</p> - -<p>It was truly a terrible dilemma in which she now found herself. Exiled -from her daughter for so many years, and all through her own fault, -yet she had been quite unable to stifle the natural instinct in her -heart. It may be that the desire to be near her daughter constantly -was all the stronger because she knew it was out of the question, and -the enforced suppression of her love in her own breast had given the -pleasure of living with Kaituna, even as a servant, a peculiar charm -of its own. It will doubtless be argued by some people that a woman -who could give up her child for the sake of a lover, could not have -had much maternal instinct; but then it must be recollected that Mrs. -Belswin had then acted on the impulse of a moment in doing so, and had -regretted her folly ever since. When she thought of all she had lost -for one moment of folly it made her mad with rage, and she would have -sacrificed anything to regain her forfeited position.</p> - -<p>Thanks to her knowledge of how matters stood, and her own dexterity, -she had been enabled to gain her ends for at least some months, but -now her husband was coming home again she knew that she would have to -seek refuge in flight. She was a bold woman, a determined woman, and -all her life's happiness was at stake, yet she knew it was perfectly -useless to appeal to her husband for pity or help. By her own act she -had forfeited her right to approach him, and the act had brought its -own bitter punishment, by robbing her of the delight of gratifying her -strong maternal instinct. Like a tiger who desires more blood when he -has once tasted it, Mrs. Belswin had just experienced sufficient -delight in being near her child to make her passionately regret having -to depart. Plan after plan she thought of and rejected as useless, -because she saw quite plainly that she could do nothing against the -position held by her husband. Law, society, morality were all against -her, and she could only stand afar off weeping bitterly as she -surveyed the paradise from which she had banished herself.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I could kill Rupert! I could kill him," she thought madly, "but -that would do no good. If I thought it would I should not hesitate. I -dare not tell Kaituna the truth, because she would shrink from me. -Rupert, once he knows I am here will not let me remain. If I sold my -soul it would be useless. I can do nothing except bear my punishment -till I die."</p> - -<p>Suddenly an idea came into her head. Suppose Rupert Pethram were to -die before he came to Thornstream. In that case she would still retain -her position, and be happy for the rest of her life. But then there -was no chance of him dying--a healthy, strong man. And unless -something happened he would return to Thornstream and turn her out on -the world.</p> - -<p>"If the ship would only go down! If God would only unchain the winds -of heaven and dash the ship to pieces on the rocks."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin, as it will be seen, was not a religious woman when she -thought thus, and was willing to sacrifice dozens of human lives in -order to get rid of her enemy. It was simply Balzac's mandarin over -again, and Mrs. Belswin, with her savage disregard of human life, -would have sacrificed all the mandarins in China, yea, China itself, -if by so doing she could have retained her position undisturbed.</p> - -<p>However, there was but small possibility of either mandarin or ship -perishing to please her, so she began to wonder in her own mind how -she could get rid of Pethram before he could arrive at Thornstream. -Ah, if Stephano Ferrari----</p> - -<p>Stephano Ferrari! The idea came to her like an inspiration, and she -hurriedly thought out a plan. Ferrari loved her, he would do anything -to get her to marry him. Well, she would do so provided he got rid of -Pethram and secured her position with her daughter. Murder! no, not -murder, but suppose Pethram disappeared? Then----</p> - -<p>Her brain was in a whirl, her throat was dry with excitement, and she -leaned against a fence for a few minutes to keep herself from falling, -for the earth seemed spinning round her and the sky red as blood -before her eyes. With an effort she pulled herself together and looked -around.</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Belk's cottage," she said, with a gasp of relief! "I'll go in -and rest."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_09" href="#div1Ref_09">CHAPTER IX</a></h4> -<h5>A RUSTIC APOLLO.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-7px"> -"The marble statue of an antique god<br> -May win our admiration for a time,<br> -Seeing it lacks not any outward grace,<br> -But stands a type of flesh idealised.<br> -Yet as we gaze in silent wonderment,<br> -We weary of the irresponsive stone,<br> -Because the cold perfection wants a soul."</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>It was without doubt a charming cottage--such as one reads of in a -fairy tale. Clay walls, thatched roof, wide diamond-paned casements, -and twisted chimney, with all the violent colours subdued to a -pleasant neutral tint by the sun and rain, while ivy, rose-trees and -wistaria clambered over all, enclosing it in a network of greenery.</p> - -<p>And the garden--oh, it was a most delightful garden; not too neat, but -all the handiwork of man softened by the gentle touch of nature. Tall -hollyhocks, odorous stocks, crimson-tipped daisies, flaunting dahlias, -and staring sunflowers grew together in riotous sweetness, breaking -bounds here and there as they nodded over the low white fence and -bent across the narrow path leading up to the rose-wreathed trellis -of the porch. There was an apple-tree, too, on one side--a gnarled, -moss-tufted apple-tree, already snowy with white blossoms, and on the -other a low-branched cherry-tree, looking like a frosted twelfth cake. -Pigeons fluttered around the eaves of the cottage, fowls strutted -among the flowers, and over all blazed the hot sun of summer from the -cloud-dappled sky. It was really charming in its rustic -picturesqueness, and Mrs. Belswin, pausing at the gate, looked -regretfully at this vision of bucolic ease so far removed from her own -feverish existence.</p> - -<p>"If I had been a village girl I might have been a good woman," she -thought, walking up to the porch; "but I daresay I should have tired -of this innocent sweetness and gone up to the evil life of London, as -all village beauties have done."</p> - -<p>On knocking at the door it was opened shortly by a tiny woman, old, -shrivelled, and evil-looking enough to have been the witch of the -cottage. Not that Mrs. Belk was ill-looking; on the contrary, she must -have been pretty when young, for she still retained a sufficiency of -beauty to warrant a second glance; but there was a restless look in -her dark eyes, a settled sneer on her thin lips, and a generally -discontented expression on her face which repelled the onlooker. Mrs. -Belswin had an intuitive capability of reading faces, and the first -glance she threw on this little figure with the withered face put her -at once on her guard. On her guard against a cottager! Mrs. Belswin -would have laughed at the idea. Still, the fact remains that Mrs. Belk -bore her character in her face, and Mrs. Belswin at once put herself -on her guard against Mrs. Belk. Hardly probable that these two women -would meet again. The cottager could never have it in her power to -harm the lady; but in spite of the absurdity of the situation, Mrs. -Belswin, with that inherent suspicion created by a long life of -duplicity and watchfulness, did not think it beneath her dignity to -pick and choose her words while talking to this humble woman, in case -chance should turn her into a possible enemy.</p> - -<p>"I beg your pardon," she said slowly; "but I am very tired, and would -like to rest."</p> - -<p>"There's a public a little way on, ma'am," replied Mrs. Belk, -respectfully, by no means inclined to entertain a stranger.</p> - -<p>"I prefer to rest here," said Mrs. Belswin, coolly. "You know me, I -daresay--Miss Pethram's companion."</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Belsin?" said the old woman, doubtfully.</p> - -<p>"Let the lady come in, mother," remarked the slow soft voice of a man -inside the cottage. "Don't you see she looks tired?"</p> - -<p>Whereupon Mrs. Belk with manifest reluctance moved to one side, and -Miss Pethram's companion entered the room to find herself face to face -with the handsomest man she had ever seen. He offered her a chair in -silence, and she sat down thankfully, while Mrs. Belk closed the door, -and the rustic Apollo stood leaning against the table looking at their -visitor.</p> - -<p>Handsome! yes; splendidly handsome this man, in a massive Herculean -fashion. One who would be called a magnificent animal; for there was -no intellect in the fresh-coloured face, no intelligence in the bright -blue eyes, and his whole figure had but beauty and symmetry after the -fashion of a brute. He was very tall--over six feet--with long limbs, -a great breadth of chest, and a small, well-shaped head covered with -crisp locks of curly golden hair. His skin was browned by the sun, he -had a well-shaped nose, sleepy blue eyes, and his mouth and chin were -hidden by a magnificent golden beard which swept his chest. Nature had -lavished her gift of physical beauty on this man, but the casket -contained no jewel, for the soul which would have lent light to the -eyes, expression to the mouth, and noble bearing to the body, was -absent, and Samson Belk was simply a fine animal whom one would admire -like a soulless picture, but tire of in a few moments. Mrs. Belswin's -first thought was, "What a handsome man!" her second, "What a brute he -would be to the woman who loved him!"</p> - -<p>They were a curious couple, the little withered mother and the tall -handsome son, dissimilar enough in appearance to negative the -relationship except for the expression of the face; for there, in the -countenance of the man, appeared the same expression that pervaded the -face of the woman. The eyes were not so restless, because they had -rather a sleepy expression, the sneer on the lips was hidden by the -drooping moustache, and the general look was more of ill-humour than -discontent: but in spite of the physical difference between them, no -one could have helped noticing, by the worst traits of the woman -appearing in the man, that this splendid specimen of humanity was the -offspring of this dwarfish feminine personality.</p> - -<p>"You are Sir Rupert's head bailiff, are you not?" said Mrs. Belswin, -when she had sufficiently admired her host.</p> - -<p>"Yes, madam, I have that honour."</p> - -<p>He spoke in a slow sleepy voice, eminently attractive, and suited to -his appearance; a voice which, in its languor and oily softness, had -an accent of refinement and culture. Yet this man was a simple rustic, -a bailiff, one of the peasant class. It was most perplexing; and Mrs. -Belswin, clever woman of the world as she was, felt herself puzzled. -She was a woman and inquisitive, so she set herself to work to solve -this problem by a series of artful questions.</p> - -<p>"Have you been a bailiff here long?"</p> - -<p>"About four years, madam. I was bailiff to Sir Robert, and when Sir -Rupert came into the title he kindly kept me on."</p> - -<p>"I should think you were fitted for better things."</p> - -<p>Belk gazed at her in a slow, bovine fashion, and a spark of admiration -flashed into his sleepy eyes as he looked at this stately woman who -spoke in such a friendly manner.</p> - -<p>"It's very kind of you to say so, madam, but I have no one to say a -good word for me."</p> - -<p>"Ah! the rich never say a good word for the poor, my lady," said Mrs. -Belk, with fawning deprecation. "If looks go for anything, my Samson -ought to live in a palace. He's the finest wrestler in all the county, -and the best shot, and the most daring rider----"</p> - -<p>"And the poorest man," finished Samson, with a coarse laugh, which -betrayed his real nature. "Aye, aye, mother, if I'd money to play the -swell, I'd cut a dash with the best of these fine, lily-handed gents."</p> - -<p>"What would you do?" asked Mrs. Belswin, curious to find out how -different this man's soul was to his body.</p> - -<p>"Do!" echoed the giant, folding his arms; "why, madam, I'd keep a fine -stable, and race my horses at the Derby. I'd marry a lady, and have a -fine house with servants, and the finest of wine to drink and food to -eat--that's what I'd do."</p> - -<p>"A very modest ambition, truly," said Mrs. Belswin, with a scarcely -concealed sneer. "I presume you would not cultivate your brains."</p> - -<p>"I've had enough schooling," growled Belk, stroking his beard. "Mother -made me learn things, and a fine time I had of it."</p> - -<p>"You were never a good boy, Samson," said his mother, shaking her head -with a look of pride which belied her words. "Handsome is as handsome -does--that's what I always tells him, my lady."</p> - -<p>"If it were handsome does as handsome is, your son would be a clever -man," replied Mrs. Belswin, rising to go.</p> - -<p>Neither Mrs. Belk nor Samson were clever enough to understand this -remark, but after a time a faint idea of what she meant dawned on the -obtuse intellect of the giant, and he smiled approvingly.</p> - -<p>"Won't you have a glass of milk, my lady?" asked Mrs. Belk, dropping a -curtsey.</p> - -<p>"No, thank you!"</p> - -<p>"May I have the honour of showing you the nearest way through the -wood, madam?" said Belk, hat in hand, resuming his polite manner, and -languid mode of speaking.</p> - -<p>"No, thank you, I know my way," answered Mrs. Belswin, coolly; "many -thanks for your courtesy--good-day."</p> - -<p>When she had vanished, Samson Belk stood for some minutes in a brown -study, then, recovering himself with a huge sigh, ordered his mother -to bring him a mug of beer.</p> - -<p>"Eh, she's a fine madam that," he said, as he drank the ale; "got a -spice of the devil in her too. I wish I could marry her."</p> - -<p>"That wouldn't do much good," said his mother contemptuously, "she's -only a companion. Now if you married Miss Pethram, you'd have all this -place, and be master here."</p> - -<p>"Not much chance of that," growled Belk, putting on his hat; "she's in -love with that friend of parson's."</p> - -<p>"A whipper-snapper."</p> - -<p>"Aye, that he is. I could smash him with one hand; not any great -shakes with money either, as I've heard tell. What'll Sir Rupert say -to his courting?"</p> - -<p>"Well, I heard at the great house this morning, that Sir Rupert was on -his way home."</p> - -<p>Belk scowled and shook his broad shoulders in an uneasy manner. He did -not like Sir Rupert, who was a severe master, and therefore was not at -all pleased to hear that his term of liberty would soon be over.</p> - -<p>"I hope accounts are all right, Samson," said his mother anxiously. -"Let Sir Rupert see you've been a good servant, lad."</p> - -<p>"I'm good enough for the wage I get," growled Belk, sulkily; "if Sir -Rupert meddles with me, he'll get the worst of it; I'll stand no man's -handling, d----n me if I do."</p> - -<p>He thrust his hands into his pockets and strolled off defiantly.</p> - -<p>"Where are you going, lad?" asked his mother, as he paused at the -gate.</p> - -<p>"To 'The Badger,'" retorted Mr. Belk, curtly, and hurriedly retreated -so as to escape his parent's expostulations.</p> - -<p>"The lad's always there," said Mrs. Belk to herself as she closed the -door; "he's after no good I reckon. Eh, if I could only get some -money, I'd march him off to America, where he could live like a -gentleman. But there's no chance of that while rich folk have the -handling of the money."</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, Mrs. Belswin was walking rapidly back to the house, -thinking over the curious couple she had just left.</p> - -<p>"Not a bit like the ordinary people," she thought. "The mother's not -to be trusted except as concerns the son, and the son--well, he's -discontented with his lot. I wonder if Rupert finds him a good -servant. He must, or he wouldn't keep him on. But if Mr. Samson Belk -tries any games on with his master, I think he'll get the worst of -it."</p> - -<p>"Good-day, Mrs. Belswin."</p> - -<p>It was Gelthrip, the curate, who saluted her, a lank lean man, with -a hatchet face, lantern-jawed, and clean shaven, not by any means -what the world would term handsome. Dressed in black he looked like a -crow, and his hoarse voice--for he suffered from clergyman's soar -throat--was not unlike the cawing of those dreary birds. He was a -gossip, and very inquisitive. He supported a sick sister, and -professed High Church principles, and it was lucky that he should have -vowed himself to celibacy, for certainly no woman would have taken him -as her husband. He had long bony hands, and cracked his knuckles in -order to punctuate his sentences, and he talked without ceasing, -mixing up religion, gossip, literature, music, art, and science in one -heterogeneous mass of chatter.</p> - -<p>Having drawn the cork of his eloquence by saying Good-day, and -touching his low-crowned hat, Mr. Gelthrip cracked his knuckles -cheerfully, and poured forth a flood of aimless nonsense.</p> - -<p>"Good-day! ah, yes, it is a charming day, is it not. The blue of the -sky, with the lark singing so delightfully. You know Shelley's poem do -you not--Yes--Turner might paint that scene. Puts me in mind of his -Vale of Health, and this place by the way, is very healthy--plenty of -oxygen in the air for weak lungs. Ah--ah, my heart swells with -goodness towards the Creator of all things as I drink in the air. I -think I saw you coming out of Belk's cottage, Mrs. Belswin!"</p> - -<p>"Yes! I went in there to rest for a few minutes."</p> - -<p>"A great contrast, mother and son, Mrs. Belswin. The Witch of Endor -and Apollo, the Far Darter. Yes! but a touching instance of parental -affection, for she is devoted to her son. A devotion of which I regret -to say he's not worthy, Mrs. Belswin, not worthy, my dear lady. He -never comes to church. Passes his time in public-houses, and at -wrestling matches, and horse-races. A most godless young man."</p> - -<p>"But surely Sir Rupert objects to this conduct?"</p> - -<p>"He does not know, Mrs. Belswin. Belk, in a rough fashion, is crafty, -very crafty, but when the baronet returns I have no doubt he will hear -from others of the behaviour of this misguided young man. I deem it my -duty," continued Mr. Gelthrip, inflating his chest, "to inform Sir -Rupert of his servant's misdeeds."</p> - -<p>"I don't think I would do that," said Mrs. Belswin, drily. "Sir Rupert -does not care about his private business being meddled with."</p> - -<p>"Ah, you know Sir Rupert then?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin bit her lip in vexation, for she saw that she had made a -mistake, and at once hastened to put herself right in the eyes of this -tale-bearer.</p> - -<p>"No! of course not. I only speak from hearsay."</p> - -<p>"Sir Rupert," said the curate in a dogmatic fashion, "does not, I -believe, care about the church, therefore, as you say, he may resent -my interference, but I would not be doing my duty as a clergyman if I -did not warn him of the dissipated ways of his bailiff."</p> - -<p>"Do you think it is kind to deprive the young man of his situation?"</p> - -<p>"In this case, Mrs. Belswin, I do. He is dissipated and neglects his -business. He has the handling of money, and, seeing he is always -betting on races, he may be tempted to--well, you know what I mean."</p> - -<p>"I know this, sir," said Mrs. Belswin, with great spirit, "that you -are about to act a most unworthy part. If this man is as you say, warn -him, remonstrate with him, but don't take the bread out of his mouth -by getting him dismissed. Charity covers a multitude of sins. That -remark is in the Bible, I believe. If so, practise what you preach, -and you will be far more respected than if you drive this man to -despair by taking away his only means of livelihood. Good morning."</p> - -<p>She bowed and walked off, leaving the curate staring after her with -open mouth, the stream of his eloquence being for once dried up.</p> - -<p>Reflections on the part of Mr. Gelthrip.--"Where has this woman been -brought up that she manifests such little reverence for the cloth? A -dangerous woman, I am afraid, and not at all suited to be the -companion of Miss Pethram. I'm afraid I shall have to warn Sir Rupert -about her as well as about Belk. As for Belk! it is my duty--my duty -as a clergyman, to open his master's eyes to the deplorable state of -this young man. He gambles, bets, plays cards, drinks, all these -things entail money, and yet he spends far more than his salary, so I -must warn Sir Rupert of his bailiffs real character. Now, Mrs. -Belswin--ah!"</p> - -<p>There was a good deal of spiteful meaning in the curate's "ah," and -there was no doubt that Mrs. Belswin had made a bitter enemy of this -well-meaning but meddlesome young man.</p> - -<p>Reflections on the part of Mrs. Belswin.--"I've been preaching a -sermon to a man whose duty it is to preach one to me. Saul among the -prophets this time. I'm not sorry, for I hate those meek young men who -make mischief under the pretence of doing good. Why are these -clergymen so meddlesome? It's none of his business to enlighten Rupert -about Belk. If Belk is dissipated, I know Rupert will find it out -quick enough and discharge him. I shouldn't like to be either Rupert -or the curate if such a thing does come to pass, for Belk is a most -unforgiving man. I can see that in his face. I have made an enemy of -this Rev. Meekness. Well, he can't harm me until Rupert comes home, -and then--ah well, I'll see."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_10" href="#div1Ref_10">CHAPTER X.</a></h4> -<h5>A BOUDOIR CONSULTATION.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-7px"> -"If two ladies talk together,<br> -Be it fine or rainy weather,</p> -<p class="t2">Subjects three you'll find they handle--</p> -<p class="t1">Love, sans diamonds and a carriage,<br> -Prospects of a wealthy marriage,</p> -<p class="t2">Or the latest piece of scandal."</p> -</div> -<br> - -<p>What do ladies talk about over five o'clock tea when no male is -present? Ah, that is one of the mysteries of Bona Dea, the ritual -whereof is known to none of the stronger sex. They doubtless discuss -fashions--for no woman, however affecting to despise the pomps and -vanities of this world, can contemplate the raiment of another woman -without blaming or praising the same, according to taste or price. -Very likely they make remarks about their neighbours, and hint, with -nods and winks mysteriously suggestive that--well, you know what. -Nevertheless, men in their clubs do exactly the same thing, and -scandal is by no means monopolized by ladies. However, the question -is: What do they talk about?--and as the votaries of the Bona Dea will -not tell us, we must be content to accept ambiguous smiles and -tightly-closed lips as answer.</p> - -<p>On this occasion, however, the subject under discussion was love, and -four ladies--two married and two unmarried--were talking together on a -very pleasant subject; and the subject was the courting of Tommy Valpy -by Toby Clendon.</p> - -<p>"I must admit," said Mrs. Valpy, in her usual heavy fashion, "that I -was astonished when the young man spoke to me."</p> - -<p>"I wasn't," observed Tommy, with a maiden blush.</p> - -<p>"Ah," from Mrs. Belswin, "forewarned's forearmed. We all know that."</p> - -<p>"I'm very pleased to hear about it," said Kaituna, putting her arm -around Tommy's waist "Mr. Clendon is most delightful."</p> - -<p>"But not so much so as another person," hinted the engaged young lady, -with wicked intuition, whereupon Kaituna grew red, and requested -another piece of cake.</p> - -<p>"Love is all very well," said Mrs. Belswin, who was a practical -person; "but it won't keep the pot boiling. Now about his income."</p> - -<p>"Eight hundred a year," declared Tommy, boldly. "We can live on that."</p> - -<p>"No doubt; but is the eight hundred a year certain?"</p> - -<p>"Well, three hundred is very certain, because it comes from his -father; but the remaining five hundred--well, you know," said Miss -Valpy, hopefully, "literature pays so well nowadays, and Toby's in the -first flight."</p> - -<p>"I don't think so much of his literature," observed Mrs. Valpy, -stirring her tea. "He may or he may not make the income he says, but -the three hundred a year is absolutely certain."</p> - -<p>"I hope you'll be happy, dear," said Kaituna, gaily. "I, of course, -will be bridesmaid."</p> - -<p>Tommy looked at her friend significantly, and then laughed.</p> - -<p>"We will be married together," she whispered confidentially.</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid not. Mr. Maxwell has said nothing----"</p> - -<p>"No? Then he has looked a good deal."</p> - -<p>Both girls laughed again, and then Mrs. Valpy began to explain her -ideas for Tommy's trousseau, which interested every one.</p> - -<p>The bride-elect and her mother were staying for a few days at -Thornstream, and on this evening were going over to dine at the -Vicarage in company with Kaituna and Mrs. Belswin.</p> - -<p>Clendon <i>père</i> was delighted at the choice of his only son, and was -giving this dinner in order to welcome his intended daughter-in-law to -his family circle of two. Tommy got on very well with the vicar, who -liked her vivacity and brilliant manner so much that he was actually -weaned from his beloved library, and the black-letter folios saw less -of their owner than they had done since the time when they had been -purchased.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Valpy was also calmly satisfied with her daughter's engagement, -as her intended son-in-law was a very delightful young man, and, -moreover, had a rich father, the latter fact being the most important -in the good lady's eyes. If he dabbled in literature, well, let him do -so. It would serve to keep him out of mischief; but as for deriving -any solid benefit from novel-writing or play-scribbling, such an idea -never entered Mrs. Valpy's head. All she knew was that Toby was a good -son, and would make a good husband, besides which he could keep his -wife in comfort, so what more could a mother desire? The old lady -therefore sat in Kaituna's boudoir, smiling and nodding over her tea, -completely satisfied with herself and the world.</p> - -<p>"By the way," said Kaituna, when the exhaustive subject of Tommy's -trousseau had come to an end, "you know of course, Mrs. Valpy, that my -father is on his way home."</p> - -<p>"Yes, dear, I heard something about it," replied the old lady lazily. -"When do you expect him for certain?"</p> - -<p>"In about a fortnight."</p> - -<p>"So soon?" said Mrs. Belswin to herself. "In that case I have no time -to lose."</p> - -<p>"You'll be glad to see Sir Rupert, I suppose?" asked Tommy, turning to -the companion.</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes, of course! But I'm not sure if I shall be here when he -arrives."</p> - -<p>"Not here!" ejaculated Kaituna, in dismay. "Oh, Mrs. Belswin!"</p> - -<p>"I have to go up to town, my dear," said that lady, very slowly, "in -order to see a--a friend of mine."</p> - -<p>She hesitated over the last word, knowing in her own heart the errand -which was taking her up to town.</p> - -<p>"But can't you put off your visit for a time?"</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid not."</p> - -<p>Kaituna said nothing, but looked reproachfully at her friend, -whereupon Mrs. Belswin kissed her with a gay laugh.</p> - -<p>"Don't look so scared, my child. I shall only be away for a few days."</p> - -<p>"You will like Sir Rupert, I'm sure," said Mrs. Valpy, who had been -slowly following out a train of thought. "He is a most delightful -man."</p> - -<p>"So I have always heard," replied the chaperon coldly.</p> - -<p>"Perhaps he'll marry again," said Tommy, idly, more for the sake of -saying something than from any idea of Sir Rupert's matrimonial -intentions.</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>The answer came from Mrs. Belswin, and had escaped her against her -will; but on seeing the surprise her sudden ejaculation had created, -she explained herself with calm grace.</p> - -<p>"Of course I mean that Sir Rupert would surely not think of marrying -when he has this dear child to comfort him."</p> - -<p>"I don't think papa will ever marry again," said Kaituna, in a low -tone. "I wonder at your saying such a thing. He was too fond of my -mother to forget her easily."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin turned away her head and sneered, for she was too well -acquainted with Rupert Pethram's selfish heart to believe that he -regretted her in the least. Seeing, however, that the subject was a -painful one to Kaituna, and by no means relishing it herself, she -hastened to turn the conversation by saying the first thing that came -into her head.</p> - -<p>"By the way, do you know I have an admirer here?"</p> - -<p>"Not the vicar?" cried Tommy, clapping her hands.</p> - -<p>"No; I'm not antique enough."</p> - -<p>"Then Mr. Gelthrip?"</p> - -<p>"Ah, he's too devoted to his sick sister. No! My admirer is that -handsome Mr. Belk."</p> - -<p>"Papa's bailiff," said Kaituna, smiling. "Well, he is very handsome, -but I must confess I don't like his face."</p> - -<p>"Nor do I," declared Tommy, boldly. "He's got the same disagreeable -countenance as his mother."</p> - -<p>"From what I've heard I think he's a very dissipated young man," said -Mrs. Valpy, slowly.</p> - -<p>"I suppose Mr. Gelthrip told you that," remarked Mrs. Belswin, with -curling lip. "So like him. He never opens his mouth except to destroy -a reputation."</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid Belk has no reputation to destroy," laughed Tommy, jumping -up. "But we shall meet the Rev. Gelthrip to-night, and I declare it's -time to dress."</p> - -<p>The clock chimed the half-hour, and the ladies went away to dress, -with the exception of Mrs. Belswin, who remained in her chair absorbed -in thought.</p> - -<p>"In a fortnight," she muttered to herself slowly. "Ah! I must be -prepared for him. I'll try and see him in London, and convince him -that I must stay by my child. If he consents, well and good; if he -refuses----"</p> - -<p>She stopped, drew a long breath, and clenched her hands.</p> - -<p>"If he refuses--I'll see Ferrari."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_11" href="#div1Ref_11">CHAPTER XI.</a></h4> -<h5>THE ART OF DINING.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-7px"> -"If you'd be a healthy sinner,<br> -Eat with judgment when at dinner,<br> -And remember with a shiver<br> -Man is governed by his liver;<br> -Viands rich and wine in plenty<br> -Spoil life's <i>dolce far niente</i>.<br> -He who shuns this vital question<br> -Suffers soon from indigestion;<br> -The corner-stone of dissipation<br> -Is to act with moderation."</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>When the sceptre of the Cæsars passed into the hands of St. Peter and -his successors, it carried with it among other fixtures--to use a -legal expression--the art of giving a good dinner. The clergy have, -therefore, always been famous for their attention to creature -comforts, and among the various arts which they rescued from the wreck -of the classic world, the art of dining is certainly one of which they -were most careful.</p> - -<p>In England the fat abbots and portly monks of the past have been -transmuted, through the agency of that royal magician, Henry VIII, -into the comfortable bishops and delectable vicars of the present; but -the change is actually only in the Thirty-nine Articles, and the -science of gastronomy still has its wisest savants among the clergy.</p> - -<p>It is true that some ascetics, wishing to return to the bosom of the -Romish Church, have denied themselves all dainties in favour of -lentils and pulse; but, unlike Daniel and his friends, they are no -fairer for doing so; yet the general run of curates (provided they are -well paid), rectors, vicars, deans, bishops, yea, even archbishops, -are worthy successors to the clerical gourmands of the Middle Ages so -satirised by Rabelais, and are as careful of their cellars and -kitchens as of their churches and parishioners.</p> - -<p>Mr. Clendon, dry-as-dust grubber among ancient folios as he was, by no -means neglected the substance for the shadow, and satisfied his brain, -his stomach, and his palate in equal measure--the former by means of -choice editions, the latter by choice viands; but, truth to tell, he -to all appearances throve more on the library than on the kitchen.</p> - -<p>The number of guests at dinner, according to some gastronomical -worthy, should never be less than the three Graces nor greater than -the nine Muses, so Vicar Clendon had taken this sage advice by -limiting the friends assembled round his hospitable board to eight -people, the sexes being in equal numbers, <i>i.e</i>. four of the one and -four of the other.</p> - -<p>The host took in Mrs. Valpy. A most admirable arrangement, as both -were fond of their victuals, and thought eating preferable to talking, -especially when the cook was a good one, as happened in this case.</p> - -<p>Mr. Gelthrip escorted Mrs. Belswin. Fire and water! Sweet and sour! -Black and white! Two galley slaves chained together against their will -could not have been less suited than the clergyman and the companion -were to one another. Good-breeding forbade either resenting the -juxtaposition, so they had smiles on their faces and rage in their -hearts at being thus coupled so unsuitably by their Amphitryon.</p> - -<p>The engaged ones, of course, went dining-room-wards together--a good -omen of the future, in the eyes of both, hinting that they would thus -wander side by side towards the good things of this life.</p> - -<p>Archie was squire to Kaituna. Ecstasy! Rapture! Bliss! Ah, how poor a -language is English when required to express the joy of two lovers -coming together for a whole evening, who have not expected Fate or -Cupid or Mother Venus to be so kind.</p> - -<p>Out of compliment to the month of roses, Vicar Clendon gave his guests -a distinctly pink dinner, which was a novelty, both as regards viands, -wines, and artistic arrangements. In the centre of the white -tablecloth there was an oval, shaped of moist-looking emerald moss, -filled with loose rose-leaves, from the midst of which sprang rich -clusters of the flower in red, in white, and in yellow, set off here -and there by masses of green leaves. No intrusive epergne to hide the -faces of the guests from one another, but a tiny fountain shooting up -a silver thread that fell again in diamond spray over the odorous -blossoms below--rose-wreaths for the white bosoms of the ladies, rose -bouquets with entanglements of delicate maiden-hair fern for the men, -and on imitation rose-leaf menus the names of the dishes in purple -ink. Viands for the most part rose-tinted by an artistic cook, and as -for wines, there was claret deeply red, port amethystine in tint, -sparkling burgundy of rosy hues, and from the roof roseate light -suffused from a red-shaded lamp. The whole prevailing tint of this -unique meal was the rose-red of dawn, and Parson Clendon, smiling -benignly from the head of the table, felt that he had achieved a -distinct success in the way of originality, a thing to be proud of in -this century of used-up ideas.</p> - -<p>"The Romans," observed the vicar, discursively, by way of providing a -subject of conversation, "the Romans would have enjoyed a meal served -up in this fashion."</p> - -<p>"You are thinking of Vitellius," asserted Mr. Gelthrip, in a -dictatorial manner.</p> - -<p>"No, sir! I am thinking of Lucullus. A gourmet, sir, not a gourmand."</p> - -<p>Mr. Gelthrip, not being sufficiently learned either in French or -gastronomy to appreciate the subtlety of this remark, wisely held his -tongue and went on with his soup.</p> - -<p>"If we were like the Romans, father, we should be crowned with -garlands of roses," said Toby, in order to keep the ball of -conversation rolling.</p> - -<p>"Instead of which we wear the roses in our buttonholes," added Archie, -gaily; "not so graceful, perhaps, but more comfortable."</p> - -<p>"Ah, we're not at all classic," observed the host, regretfully; -"dining with Lucullus we should have reclined."</p> - -<p>"How uncomfortable!" said Tommy, saucily; "as bad as having breakfast -in bed."</p> - -<p>"Which is where you generally have it," interposed Mrs. Valpy, -reprovingly.</p> - -<p>"Ah!" said Toby, with a world of meaning in his tone, "I am afraid you -have not studied one Dr. Watts----"</p> - -<p>"The early to bed man, you mean," cried Mrs. Belswin. "Horrible! I -never could see the use of his cut-and-dried little proverbs."</p> - -<p>"His poems, madam, are very edifying," remarked Gelthrip, in a -clerical manner.</p> - -<p>"Very probably; and like most things edifying, very dreary."</p> - -<p>She said this so tartly that Clendon <i>père</i> was afraid of the probable -rejoinder of his curate, so made the first remark that came into his -mind apropos of nothing in particular.</p> - -<p>"Our conversation is like that of Praed's vicar, very discursive; we -began with the Romans, we end with Dr. Watts."</p> - -<p>"I prefer the Romans," declared Archie, sipping his wine.</p> - -<p>"Not their dining, surely," observed Kaituna.</p> - -<p>"No," whispered Archie, literally <i>sub rosa</i>, for she wore a -half-opened bud in her dark hair, "because you would not have been -present. The nineteenth century, with all its faults, has one great -virtue; it allows us to dine with you."</p> - -<p>Kaituna laughed in a pretty confused manner, whereupon Mrs. Belswin -flashed her glorious dark eyes sympathetically on the pair, for she -was now quite in favour of this, to all appearances, imprudent -marriage. Reasons two. First, the young couple loved one another -devotedly, which appealed to her womanly and maternal instincts. -Second, the match would be objected to by Sir Rupert, which pleased -the revengeful part of her nature. With these two excellent reasons -she was very satisfied, so smiled kindly on the lovers.</p> - -<p>"Burgundy, sir?"</p> - -<p>"Thank you, Mrs. Belswin."</p> - -<p>That lady bowed cordially to her host and touched the rim of her glass -lightly with her lips. It is not now customary for gentlemen to drink -healths with the opposite sex at dinner, but 'tis an old-fashioned -custom, and therefore found favour with the vicar, lover of all things -antique, as he was.</p> - -<p>"Drink to me only with thine eyes."</p> - -<p>"A most excellent sentiment, Tobias," said his father, with a waggish -smile; "but we are not all so happily placed as you, my son."</p> - -<p>"Every dog has its day, father."</p> - -<p>"True! true! most true. 'Et ego in Arcadia fui.' Eh, Mr. Gelthrip?"</p> - -<p>"I am not married, sir," responded that gentleman, stiffly.</p> - -<p>"Nor is he likely to be," whispered Archie to his neighbour. "How -lucky--for the possible Mrs. Gelthrip."</p> - -<p>"I'm not so sure of that," she replied in the same tone; "every Jack -has his Jill."</p> - -<p>"Even I?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I suppose so."</p> - -<p>"Oh! you are not certain?"</p> - -<p>"How can I be certain? You do not wear your heart on your sleeve."</p> - -<p>"Do I not?"</p> - -<p>Kaituna was somewhat taken aback at this direct way of putting it, -and, not feeling inclined to reply in the only way in which she could -do so, looked round for a mode of escape from the pertinacity of her -companion. Help came from the vicar.</p> - -<p>"Miss Pethram, I understand your father is coming home again."</p> - -<p>"Yes, Mr. Clendon; I am pleased to say he is."</p> - -<p>"Ah, no doubt! no doubt! Well, I can tell him you have been in safe -hands," responded the vicar, bowing to Mrs. Belswin, who acknowledged -the compliment with a somewhat doubtful smile.</p> - -<p>"You have never seen Sir Rupert?" asked Toby, politely.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin started, drew her handkerchief--a flimsy feminine thing -of lace and cambric--across her dry lips, and laughed in an -embarrassed fashion as she replied--</p> - -<p>"No, I have not seen him; but, of course, Kaituna has told me all -about him."</p> - -<p>"Ah!" said the vicar, eyeing the rosy bubbles flashing in his glass, -"I remember Rupert Pethram very well before he went out to New -Zealand. He was a gay, light-hearted boy; but now, alas! tempora -mutantur et nos mutamur in illis."</p> - -<p>"I can't fancy my father ever having been gay and light-hearted," -cried Kaituna, doubtfully. "Ever since I can remember him he has been -so grave and solemn."</p> - -<p>"Trouble! trouble!" sighed the vicar; "it changes us all."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin, affecting to arrange the wreath at her breast, darted a -lightning glance at the old man from under her long lashes.</p> - -<p>"I wonder if Rupert told you anything," she thought, rapidly. "Bah! -what do I care if he did? This fool can do me no harm. There is only -one man I'm afraid of meeting--Rupert Pethram himself. Well, perhaps I -shall not need to meet him."</p> - -<p>She smiled cruelly as she thought of the harm she proposed to do her -unfortunate husband, and listened idly to Mr. Gelthrip, who was -holding forth in his usual dogmatic style on the good which a moneyed -man like Sir Rupert could do to the parish of Deswarth.</p> - -<p>"I hope, Miss Pethram," he said, turning to Kaituna, "that you will -urge upon your father the advisability of throwing open the picture -gallery at Thornstream to the villagers, in order to encourage a taste -for art."</p> - -<p>"But they know nothing about art. The <i>Illustrated London News</i> and -the <i>Graphic</i> form their idea of pictures."</p> - -<p>"They can learn, Mr. Clendon; they can learn," replied the curate, -easily. "I should like them to appreciate the old masters."</p> - -<p>"Egad, it's a thing I could never do," cried Toby, flippantly. "I much -prefer the modern painters."</p> - -<p>"You are a Philistine, sir."</p> - -<p>"Humph!" said Toby, under his breath, "and this Samson is slaughtering -me with the jawbone of an ass."</p> - -<p>"Then music," pursued Gelthrip, waxing eloquent; "a little Wagner."</p> - -<p>"Very little," said Archie, slily; "all chords and no melody."</p> - -<p>"I don't quite understand you," remarked Tommy, addressing Mr. -Gelthrip with a demure smile. "You believe in Doctor Watts and Richard -Wagner. Isn't it rather difficult to reconcile the two things?"</p> - -<p>"Not at all, Miss Valpy. Wagner is understandable by the meanest -mind."</p> - -<p>"Meaning himself," whispered Archie, with a laugh.</p> - -<p>"The fact is," observed Mr. Clendon, with mock solemnity, "that when -my worthy friend can get our labourers to descant learnedly on Claude -Lorraine, Michael Angelo, and Titian, read and appreciate George -Meredith's novels--of whom, Tobias, I have heard you speak--and -understand the advanced school of music, of which I myself know -nothing, he will have accomplished his life's work."</p> - -<p>"It would be a worthy career for a man," said Gelthrip, energetically.</p> - -<p>"So I think," remarked Mrs. Belswin, dryly; "but if you make all your -labourers so learned, Mr. Gelthrip, I'm afraid they won't do much -work. Instead of hedging and ditching, they will take to admiring the -sunsets."</p> - -<p>"And to analysing the music of the lark."</p> - -<p>"Or comparing the latest novelist's description of Nature to the -disadvantage of the real thing."</p> - -<p>Mr. Gelthrip bore all this sarcasm with equanimity, smiling benignly -all the time. He was an enthusiast on the subject, and had a hide -impervious to shafts of ridicule, however skilfully launched. His -scheme was simple. Sir Rupert had plenty of money, and, judging from -his daughter's description, seemed to be philanthropically inclined. -Mr. Gelthrip had full power in the parish--as his superior was too -much taken up with the middle ages to pay attention to the nineteenth -century--so he determined, with the aid of Sir Rupert's money and his -own brains, to make Deswarth a model village in the matter of culture -and high art. As to religion--well, Mr. Gelthrip was a clergyman, and -thought he could mingle religion and high art together so as to make -them palatable to his children-of-nature parishioners. Meanwhile his -ideas stood in this order: culture, high art, religion. Alas for the -possible model parish and the souls of its occupants!</p> - -<p>This, however, is talk of futurity; but at present, the ladies, headed -by Mrs. Valpy, retired, leaving the four gentlemen to their wine.</p> - -<p>"Tobias!" said his father, benevolently--a man must feel benevolent -with a glass of '34 port in his hand. "Tobias, to the health of your -bride."</p> - -<p>"Thank you, father," replied Toby, gratefully, touching his lips with -the glass. "Archie! to the future Mrs. Maxwell."</p> - -<p>"Ah! Ah!" remarked the old gentleman, smiling. "Has it gone as far as -that?"</p> - -<p>"Not yet, sir."</p> - -<p>Archie was blushing deeply, being an ingenuous youth, and unused to -such public compliments.</p> - -<p>"I'll bet," whispered Toby, looking at him gravely, "that you'll have -something to say to me to-night over a pipe."</p> - -<p>"Do you think so?" faltered Archie, toying with his glass.</p> - -<p>"I speak," said Clendon <i>fils</i>, "I speak from experience, having -proposed and been accepted."</p> - -<p>"I can do the first, but what about the second?"</p> - -<p>"Faint heart," remarked Toby, judiciously, "never won fair lady."</p> - -<p>"Then I'll take your advice this very night," said Archie, -desperately.</p> - -<p>"I am," remarked Toby, as he lifted his glass, "a prophet in a small -way. Old boy, your hand. To the health of our double marriage--and no -heeltaps."</p> - -<p>Archie finished his glass.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_12" href="#div1Ref_12">CHAPTER XII.</a></h4> -<h5>ARS AMORIS.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-7px">'Tis very easy to make love;</p> -<p class="t2">A smile--a pressure of the hand.</p> -<p class="t1">A reference to the stars above,</p> -<p class="t2">A "fly with me to some far land,"</p> -<p class="t1">A sigh as soft as coo of dove,</p> -<p class="t2">A kiss--the rest she'll understand.</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>Mr. Gelthrip, thinking no one but himself knew anything, had -contradicted his clerical superior on some point connected with the -introduction of printing into England, and the vicar in great wrath -had carried off his dogmatic curate to the library in order to prove -his case. The two elder ladies were talking about Sir Rupert as Mrs. -Valpy had met him a few months previously, and Mrs. Belswin was trying -to find out all about her quondam husband, in order to strengthen her -position as much as possible. At present she knew that she was -entirely at the mercy of Sir Rupert, so if she could discover -something detrimental to his character it might serve as a weapon -against him. The scheme which she hoped to carry through with the -assistance of Ferrari, was a dangerous one; and moreover, she was -doubtful if the Italian would consent to aid her; therefore she was -anxious to try all other methods of coercing her husband before -resorting to the last and most terrible expedient. She was a clever -woman, was Mrs. Belswin, and the instinct for discovery, which she -inherited from her savage grandparents, made her wonderfully acute in -cross-examining simple Mrs. Valpy, who not comprehending the subtlety -of her companion, told all she knew about the baronet in the most open -manner. The result was not gratifying to Mrs. Belswin; for with all -her dexterity in twisting, and turning and questioning, and hinting, -she discovered nothing likely to compromise Sir Rupert in any way.</p> - -<p>"It's no use," she thought, with a feeling of despair in her heart, -"Rupert has it all his own way, and I can do nothing--nothing -except----"</p> - -<p>She smiled significantly, and simple Mrs. Valpy, seeing that the -companion was looking at Toby and her daughter, who were amusing -themselves at the piano, misinterpreted the smile, and therefore spoke -according to her misinterpretation.</p> - -<p>"They'll make a very happy couple, won't they, Mrs. Belswin?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin, thus being appealed to, started, smiled politely, and -assented with much outward show of interest to the remark of the old -lady.</p> - -<p>"It's so nice for Toby to have his home here," pursued Mrs. Valpy, -with much satisfaction; "because, you know, our place is not far from -the vicarage, so I shall not be parted from my daughter."</p> - -<p>The other woman started, and laid her hand on her breast, as if to -still the beating of her heart.</p> - -<p>"Yes; it would be a terrible thing to part with your only child," she -said in a low voice. "I know what the pain of such a separation is."</p> - -<p>"You have parted from your child, then?" said Mrs. Valpy, -sympathetically.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin clutched her throat, and gave an hysterical laugh.</p> - -<p>"Well, no; not exactly;" she said, still in the same low voice; -"but--but my little daughter--my little daughter died many years ago."</p> - -<p>It was very hard for her to lie like this when her daughter was only a -few yards away, chatting to Maxwell at the window; but Mrs. Belswin -looked upon such necessary denial as punishment for her sins, and -accepted it accordingly.</p> - -<p>"I'm very sorry," observed Mrs. Valpy, with well-bred condolence. -"Still, time brings consolation."</p> - -<p>"Not to all people."</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes, I think so. Besides, now you have that dear girl, Kaituna, -and she seems very fond of you."</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>She could say no more. The strangeness of the situation excited her to -laughter, to that laughter which is very near tears, and she was -afraid to speak lest she should break down.</p> - -<p>"And then Sir Rupert will be so glad to find his daughter has such a -good friend."</p> - -<p>The mention of the hated name restored Mrs. Belswin to her usual self, -and with a supercilious glance at the blundering woman who had so -unconsciously wounded her, she answered in her ordinary manner--</p> - -<p>"I hope so! But I'm afraid I shall not have an opportunity of seeing -Sir Rupert at once, as I go to town shortly, on business."</p> - -<p>"But you will return?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes! of course I shall return, unless some unforeseen -circumstances should arise. We are never certain of anything in the -future, you know, Mrs. Valpy."</p> - -<p>"No, perhaps not! At all events I think you will like Sir Rupert."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin sneered.</p> - -<p>"Oh, do you think so?"</p> - -<p>"I'm certain. Such a gentlemanly man. Quite young for his age. I -wonder he does not marry again."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps he had enough of matrimony with his first wife," said Mrs. -Belswin, coolly.</p> - -<p>"Oh, he was devotedly attached to her."</p> - -<p>"Was he, indeed?"</p> - -<p>"Yes! Simply worshipped her. She died in New Zealand when Kaituna was -a baby, I believe, and Sir Rupert told me how this loss had -overshadowed his life."</p> - -<p>"Hypocrite!" murmured Mrs. Belswin, between her clenched teeth.</p> - -<p>The conversation was becoming a little difficult for her to carry on, -as she dare not disclose herself yet, and did not care about -exchanging complimentary remarks on the subject of a man she detested -so heartily.</p> - -<p>At this moment Toby struck a chord on the piano, and Tommy burst out -laughing, so, with ready wit, Mrs. Belswin made this interruption -serve as an excuse to break off the conversation.</p> - -<p>"The young people seem to be merry," she said to Mrs. Valpy, and -rising to her feet, "I must go over and see what the joke is about."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Valpy nodded sleepily, feeling somewhat drowsy after her dinner, -so Mrs. Belswin, seeing she did not mind being left to her own -devices, walked across to the piano and interrupted the two lovers, -for which interruption, however, they did not feel profoundly -grateful.</p> - -<p>"Won't you sing something?" asked the companion, addressing Toby, "or -you, Miss Valpy?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, my songs are too much of the orthodox drawing-room' type," -replied Miss Valpy, disparagingly. "Now Toby is original in his -ditties. Come, let's have a little chin-music, Toby!"</p> - -<p>"Wherever do you learn such slang?" said Mrs. Belswin, with a smile.</p> - -<p>"Toby."</p> - - -<p>"I! Oh, how can you? I speak the Queen's English."</p> - -<p>"Do you really?" said Tommy, laughing. "Well, I at present speak the -President's American, so go right along, stranger, and look slippy -with the barrel organ."</p> - -<p>"If your mother hears you," remonstrated Mrs. Belswin, "she will----"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I know she will," retorted Tommy, imperturbably; "but she's -asleep and I'm awake, very much so. I say, Mrs. Belswin, where's -Kaituna?"</p> - -<p>"I think she's walking on the lawn with Mr. Maxwell."</p> - -<p>"As a chaperon you should hunt them out," said Miss Valpy, -mischievously.</p> - -<p>"Suppose I give the same advice to your mother," replied Mrs. Belswin, -dryly.</p> - -<p>"Don't," said Toby, in mock horror; "as you are strong be merciful."</p> - -<p>"Certainly, if you sing something."</p> - -<p>"What shall I sing?"</p> - -<p>"Anything," said Tommy, sitting down, "except that new style of song, -all chords and no tune."</p> - -<p>Toby laughed mischievously and began to sing--</p> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:10%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-7px">"If I mashed her would she kiss me?</p> -<p class="t2">No! no! no!</p> -<p class="t1">If I bolted would she miss me? -<p class="t2">No! no! no! -<p class="t1">She knows I haven't got a rap;<br> -Besides, there is the other chap--<br> -At him, not me, she sets her cap;</p> -<p class="t2">No! no! no!"</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>"Mr. Clendon," said Tommy, in a tone of dignified rebuke, "we don't -want any music-hall songs. If you can't sing something refined, don't -sing at all."</p> - -<p>"I must collect my ideas first," replied Toby, running his fingers -over the piano. "Wait till the spirit moves me."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin had resumed her seat near the sleeping form of Mrs. -Valpy, and was thinking deeply, though her thoughts, judging from the -savage expression in her fierce eyes, did not seem to be very -agreeable ones, while Tommy leaned over the piano watching Toby's face -as he tried to seek inspiration from her smiles.</p> - -<p>Outside on the short dry grass of the lawn, Kaituna was strolling, -accompanied by Archie Maxwell. The grass extended for some distance in -a gentle slope, and was encircled by tall trees, their heavy foliage -drooping over the beds of flowers below. Beyond, the warm blue of the -sky, sparkling with stars, and just over the trembling tree-tops the -golden round of the moon. A gentle wind was blowing through the -rustling leaves, bearing on its faint wings the rich odours of the -flowers, and the lawn was strewn with aerial shadows that trembled -with the trembling of the trees. Then the white walls of the vicarage, -the sloping roof neutral tinted in the moonlight, the glimmer of the -cold shine on the glass of the upstair windows, and below, the yellow -warm light streaming out of the drawing-room casements on the -gravelled walk, the lawn beyond, and the figures of the two lovers -moving like black shadows through the magical light. A nightingale -began to sing deliciously, hidden in the warm dusk of the leaves, then -another bird in the distance answered the first. The hoot of an owl -sounded faintly through the air, the sharp whirr of a cricket replied, -and all the night seemed full of sweet sounds.</p> - -<p>Kaituna sat down on a bench placed under the drawing-room windows, and -Archie, standing beside her, lighted a cigarette after asking and -obtaining the requisite permission. The voices of the vicar and his -curate sounded in high dispute from the adjacent library; there was a -murmur of conversation from within, where Mrs. Belswin was talking to -the other lovers, and at intervals the sharp notes of the piano struck -abruptly through the voices, the songs of the nightingale, and the -charm of the night.</p> - -<p>"What I miss very much in the sky here," said Kaituna, looking up at -the stars, "is the Southern Cross."</p> - -<p>"Yes; I have seen it myself," replied Archie, removing his cigarette. -"You know I have travelled a great deal."</p> - -<p>"And intend to travel still more!"</p> - -<p>"Perhaps."</p> - -<p>"You don't seem very sure, Mr. Maxwell. What about South America?"</p> - -<p>"I thought I had told you that I had changed my mind about South -America."</p> - -<p>Kaituna flushed a little at the significance of his words, and cast -down her eyes.</p> - -<p>"I believe you said something about putting off your journey till the -end of the year."</p> - -<p>"I'll put it off altogether, if a certain event takes place."</p> - -<p>"And that certain event?"</p> - -<p>"Cannot you guess?"</p> - -<p>Duplicity on the part of the woman, who knew perfectly well the event -to which the young man referred.</p> - -<p>"No, I am afraid I can't."</p> - -<p>"Miss Pethram--Kaituna, I----"</p> - -<p>"Hush! Mr. Clendon is singing."</p> - -<p>It was only to gain time for reflection, as she knew that a -declaration of love trembled on his lips, but with feminine coquetry -could not help blowing hot to his cold.</p> - -<p>And Toby was singing a bold martial song, with a curious accompaniment -like the trotting of a horse--a song which thrilled through the -listeners, with its fierce exultation and savage passion.</p> - -<div style="margin-left:0%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1">On God and his prophet I seven times called me;<br> -I opened the Koran--the omen appalled me;<br> -I read it--thou wast to be bride to another;<br> -I knew my betrayer, 'twas him I called brother,<br> -Zulema! Zulema!<br> -<br> -I sprang on my steed as he waited beside me,<br> -Then rode through the desert with Allah to guide me;<br> -Fierce blew the sirocco, its terrors were idle;<br> -I galloped till dawn to be first at your bridal<br> -Zulema! Zulema!<br> -<br> -I rode to the tent-door, your father's tribe knew me;<br> -They dreamed of the glory they'd gain if they slew me;<br> -I dashed through the cowards--I met my betrayer,<br> -He fell from his saddle, and I was his slayer,<br> -Zulema! Zulema!<br> -<br> -You ran from your dwelling--your father's spears missed me;<br> -You sprang to my saddle with fervour to kiss me;<br> -We broke through the press of your kinsfolk, my foemen;<br> -I won thee, Zulema, so false was the omen;<br> -Zulema! Zulema!<br> -</div> -<br> -<p>"Ah!" said Archie, with a long breath, when the fierce cry had rung -out for the last time, "that is the way to win a bride."</p> - -<p>Kaituna thought so too, although she did not make any remark, but the -shrill savagery of the song had stirred her hereditary instincts -profoundly, and even in the dim moonlight Archie could see the -distension of her nostrils, and the flash of excitement that sparkled -in her eyes. It gave him an idea, and throwing himself on his knees, -he began to woo her as fiercely and as freely as ever her dusky -ancestors had been wooed in the virgin recesses of New Zealand woods.</p> - -<p>"Kaituna, I love you! I love you. You must have seen it; you must know -it. This is no time for timid protestations, for doubtful sighing. -Give me your hands." He seized them in his strong grasp. "I am a man, -and I must woo like a man. I love you! I love you! I wish you to be my -wife. I am poor, but I am young, and with you beside me, I can do -great things. Say that you will marry me."</p> - -<p>"But my father!"</p> - -<p>He sprang to his feet, still holding her hands, and drew her forcibly -towards him.</p> - -<p>"Your father may consent--he may refuse. I do not care for his consent -or his refusal. Say you will be my wife, and no human being shall come -between us. I have no money. I will gain a fortune for you. I have no -home--I will make one for you. Youth, love, and God are on our side, -and we are made the one for the other. You must not say no! You shall -not say no. You are the woman needed to complete my life; and God has -given you to me. Lay aside your coquetry, your hesitations, your -fears. Speak boldly to me as I do to you. Let no false modesty--no -false pride--no maidenly dread come between us. I love you, Kaituna. -Will you be my wife?"</p> - -<p>There was something in this akin to the fierce wooing of primeval man. -All the artificial restraints of civilisation were laid aside. The -doubts, the fears, the looks, the shrinkings, all these safeguards and -shields of nervous natures had vanished before this whirlwind of -passion, which bore down such feeble barriers set between man and -woman. As his eyes ardent with love, passionate with longing, flashed -into her own she felt her bosom thrill, her blood rush rapidly through -her veins, and, with an inarticulate cry, wherein all the instincts -she had inherited from her Maori ancestors broke forth, she flung -herself on his heaving breast.</p> - -<p>"Kaituna!"</p> - -<p>"Yes! yes! take me I take me! I am yours, and yours only."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_13" href="#div1Ref_13">CHAPTER XIII.</a></h4> -<h5>EXIT MRS. BELSWIN.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:10%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1"> -She smiles she laughs! she talks of this and that--<br> -To all appearances a very woman.<br> -Ah! but that phrase bears deep interpretation--<br> -"A very woman" is a treacherous thing;<br> -Her smile's a lie--a lie to hide the truth,<br> -For when the time is ripe for all her schemes<br> -"A very woman" slips her smiling mask,<br> -And lo! behold, a look which means, "You die."</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>One who has been in strange lands, and ventured his life in far -countries, is by no means anxious to court again the dangers he has so -happily escaped. The traveller, telling his tales by his lately gained -fireside, shudders as he remembers the perils he has dared, the risks -he has encountered, and is thankful for his present safety, so -thankful indeed that he is unwilling to place his life for the second -time at the disposal of chance.</p> - -<p>It was somewhat after this fashion that Mrs. Belswin viewed her -present security in contrast to her past jeopardy. She had been a -free-lance, and adventuress, an unprotected woman at the mercy of the -world, so hard and pitiless to such unfortunates; but now she had -found a home, a refuge, a daughter's love, a bright oasis in the -desert of affliction, and she dreaded to be driven out of this -peaceful paradise, which held all that made her life worth having, -into a stormy world once more. Through perils more deadly than those -of savage lands, through storms more terrible than those of the ocean, -she had passed into a haven of tranquillity; but now that she was -tasting of the pleasures of hope and repose, it seemed as though she -would once more be driven forth to battle with her fellow-creatures.</p> - -<p>Her quondam husband held her fate in his hand. He had right and might -on his side, and she knew that she could expect no mercy from one whom -she had so deeply wronged. Had the positions been reversed she felt -that she would not have scrupled to enforce the powers she possessed, -and, therefore, never for a moment dreamed that her husband would act -otherwise. All she knew was that she was now in Paradise, that she -enjoyed her daughter's affection, ignorant as that daughter was of the -mother's identity, and that the husband of her youth, and the father -of her dearly-loved child would expel her from this hardly won -Paradise as soon as he discovered her therein.</p> - -<p>This being the case, she did not waste time in asking for a mercy not -likely to be granted, but set herself to work to find out some means -of retaining her position in defiance of her husband's enmity and -hatred. After her conversation with Mrs. Valpy, she saw that Rupert -Pethram had glossed over the affair of the divorce in order to avoid -all suspicion of scandal against himself and the mother of his child, -for he was unwilling that the child should suffer for the sin of her -parent. This was certainly a point in her favour, as by threatening to -denounce the whole affair if she was not allowed to retain her -position she could force him to acquiesce in her demand, in order to -avoid scandal.</p> - -<p>But then if he, though keeping the terrible affair secret from the -outside world, told Kaituna all about her mother's disgrace, thus -destroying the love which the girl had for the memory of one whom she -thought was dead--it would be too terrible, as she could urge nothing -in extenuation of her sin, and would be forced to blush before her own -child. No, nothing could be done in that way. Should she throw herself -on the mercy of the man she had wronged? Alas! she knew his stern -nature well enough to be aware of the hopeless folly of such an -attempt. Looking at the whole affair in whatever way that suggested -itself to her fertile brain, she saw no means of retaining her -position, her child or her newly-found respectability, except by -enlisting the sympathy of Ferrari and----</p> - -<p>But it was too terrible. It was a crime. Guilty as she was, to do this -would render her still more guilty. Even if she succeeded in getting -her husband out of the way, and it was not discovered by the law, -there was still Ferrari to be reckoned with. It would give him a -strong hold over her, which he would use to force her into marriage, -and then she would be still separated from her child, so that the -crime she contemplated would be useless.</p> - -<p>To see this woman raging up and down her bedroom was a pitiful sight. -Flinging herself on her knees she would pray to God to soften the -heart of her husband, then, realising how futile was the hope, she -would start to her feet and think again of the crime she contemplated -committing with the assistance of her Italian lover. She raged, she -wept, she sighed, she implored. Her mood changed with every tick of -the clock; from hope she fell into despair; from despair she changed -once more to hope--tears imprecations, prayers, threats, she tried -them all in their turn, and the result was always the same--absolute -failure. She was dashing herself in vain against an adamantine wall, -for in her calmer moments she saw how helpless she was against the -position held by her husband--a position approved of by law, approved -of by the world. She could do nothing, and she knew it.</p> - -<p>Still, Ferrari!</p> - -<p>Yes, she would go up and see him, for perhaps he could solve the -riddle which thus perplexed her so terribly. He would demand his -price, she knew him well enough for that. Well, she would pay it in -order to still retain possession of her child. Let her accomplish her -present desire and the future would take care of itself. So, Mrs. -Belswin, summoning all her philosophy to her aid, composed her -features, and told Kaituna that she was going up to London on -business.</p> - -<p>"But papa will be here next week," said the girl in dismay.</p> - -<p>"Yes; I'm sorry to go at such a time, dear," replied Mrs. Belswin, -with an immovable countenance, "but it is a very important matter that -takes me away."</p> - -<p>"You will be back again soon?"</p> - -<p>"In a fortnight at the least."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I'm glad of that," said Kaituna, with a flush; "you know I want -you to help me gain papa's consent to my marriage with Archie."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin smiled bitterly as she kissed her daughter, knowing how -weak was the reed upon which the girl leaned. She ask Rupert Pethram -to consent to the marriage--she dare to demand a favour of the man she -had wronged for the child she had forsaken! She almost laughed as she -thought of the terrible irony of the situation, but, restraining -herself with her usual self-command, bade the girl hope for the best.</p> - -<p>"Your father must like Mr. Maxwell, he is such a charming young -fellow," she said encouragingly, "and as you love him so dearly, Sir -Rupert, for the sake of your happiness, may perhaps overlook his want -of money."</p> - -<p>"But you will speak to papa, Mrs. Belswin?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; if I see your father on my return I will certainly speak to -him."</p> - -<p>"How strangely you talk," said Kaituna, rather puzzled; "if you come -back in a fortnight you will be sure to see papa."</p> - -<p>"Of course, dear! of course. I was only thinking that some unforeseen -accident----"</p> - -<p>"Oh, no, no!"</p> - -<p>"Kaituna, you love your father very dearly."</p> - -<p>"Very, very dearly. He is all I have in the world."</p> - -<p>It required all Mrs. Belswin's self-restraint to prevent her then and -there throwing herself into the girl's arms and telling her all. Such -a course, however, would have been worse than madness, so she was -forced to crush down her maternal feelings.</p> - -<p>After this interview with Kaituna, she departed for London--departed -for the possible commission of a crime, and as the carriage left -Thornstream she looked back with a sigh to the girl standing on the -terrace.</p> - -<p>"Perhaps I shall never see her again," she said, with a groan, -throwing herself back in her seat. "But no; that will never happen; -even if Rupert does turn me out of the house he will not tell Kaituna -anything to destroy her belief in her mother, so I shall some day meet -her with her husband."</p> - -<p>Her lips curled as she said this, knowing well that Sir Rupert would -never give his consent to the marriage, and then she clenched her -hands with a frown.</p> - -<p>"He must consent to the marriage--Kaituna's heart is set on it. He can -destroy my happiness, but I'll kill him before he destroys that of my -child."</p> - -<p>And with this firm determination she left her husband's house--the -house in which she should have reigned a happy mistress and mother, -and the house into which she had crept like a disguised thief, the -house which she, in the mad instinct of her savage nature, intended to -deprive of its master.</p> - -<p>While waiting on the railway platform for the London train, she saw -Samson Belk.</p> - -<p>The relations between these two were peculiar. Ever since he had seen -her at his mother's cottage, Belk had followed her everywhere like her -shadow, much to Mrs. Belswin's astonishment, for, candid in all -things to herself, she could not conceive how a handsome young man -could leave younger women for one verging on middle age. Yet such -was the case. This bucolic man had fallen passionately in love, and -adored her with all the sullen ardour of his obstinate nature. He was -slow-witted, dull-headed, and it took a long time for an idea to -penetrate into his brain, but once the idea was there, nothing could -get it out again. This woman, so different from all he had known, who -spoke in a commanding way, who flashed her eyes fiercely on all, as if -they were her slaves, had, without a word, without a sign, brought to -his knees this uncultured man, who knew nothing of the deference due -to the sex, and whose only attributes were great physical strength and -a handsome exterior. Formerly, owing to these advantages, he had -gained admiration from all women, and in return had treated them with -brutal indifference, or scarcely veiled contempt; but now the -positions were reversed, and he was the abject slave of this imperious -queen, who looked down at him with disdain. It was a case of Samson -like wax in the hands of Delilah--of Hercules subjugated by Omphale; -and Samson Belk, with all his virile strength, his handsome face, his -stalwart figure, was crouching like a dog at the feet of Mrs. Belswin.</p> - -<p>He looked somewhat haggard as he came towards her and took off his -hat, Mrs. Belswin nodding coldly to him in return.</p> - -<p>"Well, Mr. Belk," she said, indifferently, "what are you doing here?"</p> - -<p>"I heard you were going to town, madam."</p> - -<p>"Yes? How can that possibly concern you?" Belk stood twisting his hat -round and round in a sheepish manner.</p> - -<p>"I thought I might be of service to you," he stammered, looking at her -portmanteau.</p> - -<p>"Thank you, but there is no need. The porters will attend to all -that," replied the lady, graciously. "But you don't look very well, -Mr. Belk. I suppose you've been drinking."</p> - -<p>Candour was Mrs. Belswin's strong point, and looking at Belk as an -inferior animal, she treated him accordingly, but he seemed in nowise -displeased at her bluntness.</p> - -<p>"No; I haven't been drinking, madam."</p> - -<p>"That's just as well. You know Sir Rupert returns next week, and if he -found you to be dissipated, he'd dismiss you on the spot."</p> - -<p>"Would he?" said Belk, sullenly. "Let him if he likes. You seem to -know Sir Rupert, madam."</p> - -<p>"I? No; but I have heard about him."</p> - -<p>"He's a hard man, what I've seen of him."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin was not going to discuss this subject with a servant like -Belk, so she turned indifferently away as the train came into the -station, and left him standing there, looking in sullen admiration at -her graceful form in the dark garments she now affected.</p> - -<p>When she was safely installed in a first-class carriage, her rustic -admirer, who had seen personally after her luggage, appeared at the -window with some newspapers.</p> - -<p>"You'll want them to read, madam," he said awkwardly, as she thanked -him. "I hope you'll have a pleasant journey."</p> - -<p>"Thank you, Mr. Belk, I hope I shall."</p> - -<p>"You'll be coming back soon I hope?"</p> - -<p>He blurted out this question with a deep flush, and Mrs. Belswin -stared at him with undisguised astonishment She could not understand -the reason of this man's deference, for she judged it impossible that -he could be so deeply in love with her as all his actions seemed to -denote. Good-natured, however, when not crossed in any way, she -replied politely, as the train moved off--</p> - -<p>"I shall return in a fortnight."</p> - -<p>"If you don't," muttered Belk, as the long line of carriages -disappeared, "I'll follow you up to London."</p> - -<p>"Good heavens!" said Mrs. Belswin, throwing herself back in her seat, -"what on earth can the man see in me to admire? I'm not a vain woman. -I never was a vain woman, and why that handsome young fellow should -leave youth to run after age is more than I can understand. It's -flattering; very much so; but," continued the lady, struck by a sudden -thought, "if Ferrari met my new admirer, I'm afraid there would be -trouble."</p> - -<p>She laughed at the idea, and taking up the <i>Telegraph</i> began to read, -but suddenly laid it down with a nervous start.</p> - -<p>"Ferrari loves me! Belk loves me! I love neither, but only my child. -Rupert stands between me and my happiness. Which of these men will -remove him out of my path? Ferrari--a subtle Italian, Belk--a brutal -Saxon. Humph! The fox and the lion over again--craft and strength! I -can depend on them both, and Rupert----"</p> - -<p>She struck her hands together with a triumphant laugh.</p> - -<p>"Rupert Pethram, you are marching blindfolded into a trap."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_14" href="#div1Ref_14">CHAPTER XIV.</a></h4> -<h5>SIGNOR FERRARI DECLINES.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1"> -"Number One is the greater number; if I assisted Number Two it would -become the lesser."</p> -</div> -<br> - -<p>Signor Ferrari was a gentleman who knew how to make himself thoroughly -comfortable; and, in order to do so, squandered his earnings in a most -spendthrift fashion. At present he was receiving a very handsome -salary for his singing in Sultana Fatima, therefore he denied himself -nothing in the way of luxury. He was a true Bohemian in every action -of his life, and accepted his fluctuating fortunes with the utmost -equanimity. If he fared badly on dry bread and water one day, he was -hopeful of oysters and champagne the next; and when the feast of Dives -was before him, made the most of it in eating and drinking, so as to -recompense himself for all future deprivations, which would be the lot -of poverty-stricken Lazarus.</p> - -<p>While his voice lasted he was well aware that he could command an -excellent income which satisfied him completely; for when he grew old -and songless he was quite prepared to return to Italy, and live there -the happy-go-lucky life of his youth on polenta and sour wine. In his -impulsive southern fashion he loved Mrs. Belswin madly; but, strangely -enough, it never for a moment occurred to him to save money against -his possible marriage with her. If he starved, she would starve; if he -made money, she would share it; and if she objected to such a -chequered existence, Signor Ferrari was quite confident enough in his -own powers of will and persuasion to be satisfied that he could force -her to accept his view of the matter. This was the Ferrari philosophy, -and no bad one either as times go, seeing that a singer's livelihood -depends entirely upon the caprice of the public. As long as he could -get enough to eat, be the food rich or plain, a smoke, and plenty of -sleep, the world could go hang for all he cared. He lived in the -present, never thought about the past, and let the future take care of -itself; so altogether managed to scramble through life in a leisurely, -selfish manner eminently egotistical in fashion.</p> - -<p>At present, being in the heyday of life, he was dining with Dives, -which was happiness enough in itself; but, in order that nothing -should be wanting to complete his felicity, he had received a letter -from Mrs. Belswin, telling him of her contemplated arrival. Under -these circumstances he had nothing left to wish for, and lounging on -the sofa in his sitting-room in a state of blissful contentment -awaited the coming of his fair friend.</p> - -<p>"Buõno," said the signor, with smiling satisfaction, folding up the -letter and putting it in his pocket, "the singing-bird returns to its -nest. This time I will clip its wings, so that it flies not again. Per -Bacco, the kind heart of Stephano surprises himself, for who would let -his bird fly as he has done? But I fear not the jealousy, offspring of -suspicion. Ecco! she loves but me, and comes again to the nest. And -what a nest! Cospetto! My Lucrezia will be hard to please if she likes -not this palazzo del amor."</p> - -<p>It was a very pretty nest indeed, from a lodging-house point of view, -although its incongruity of colouring and furnishing would have driven -an artist out of his mind; but then the signor was not exacting in the -way of harmonious effect, and, provided his dwelling was fairly -comfortable, felt completely satisfied. Lying on the sofa, he looked -complacently at the furniture, covered with painfully bright blue -satin, at the scarlet curtains, the green wall-paper, and at all the -wax flowers, Berlin wool mats, and gimcrack ornaments with which the -room was adorned. Ferrari had added to this splendid furnishing an -excellent piano for professional purposes, and numerous photographs, -principally feminine, of his artistic friends; so that he conceived -himself to be housed in a princely fashion.</p> - -<p>It was three o'clock by the incorrect French timepiece on the tawdry -mantelpiece, and Ferrari was getting somewhat impatient, as Mrs. -Belswin had mentioned two o'clock as the time of her arrival; but with -his accustomed philosophy he manifested no anger at the delay.</p> - -<p>"La Donna é mobile," he hummed, shrugging his shoulders, as he -strolled towards the piano. "Women are always late; it is one of their -charming follies. Ah! EH! EE! Diavolo! my voice is bad this day. These -English fogs are down my throat Ah! Eh! EE! Dio! What a note! Voce del -oca.</p> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:10%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-7px"> -"Ask not the stars the fate they deal.<br> -Read in my eyes the love I feel."</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>"That's a good song, that serenade to Fatima. It shows off my voice. -I'll sing it to exercise my high notes."</p> - -<p>He did so, and was just in the middle of the first verse when Mrs. -Belswin made her appearance, upon which he stopped abruptly, and came -forward to greet her with theatrical effusion.</p> - -<p>"Stella dora! once more you shine," he cried, seizing her hands, with -a passionate look in his dark eyes. "Oh, my life! how dear it is to -see thee again."</p> - -<p>"You missed me then, Stephano?" said Mrs. Belswin, sinking wearily -into a chair.</p> - -<p>"Missed thee, carissima!" exclaimed the Italian, throwing himself on -his knees before her and kissing her hand; "by this, and this, and -this again, I swear that all has been dark to me without the light of -thine eyes. But you will not leave me again, angela mia. Thou hast -come back for ever to be my wife."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin drew her hand away sharply and frowned, for in her -present irritable state of mind the exaggerated manner of Ferrari -jarred on her nerves.</p> - -<p>"Do be sensible, Stephano," she said in a vexed tone. "You are always -acting."</p> - -<p>"How can that be acting, cruel one, which is the truth?" replied -Ferrari, reproachfully, rising from his knees. "Thou knowst my love, -and yet when I speak you are cold. Eh, Donna Lucrezia, is your heart -changed?"</p> - -<p>"My heart remains as It always was, my friend; but I've come up to see -you on business----"</p> - -<p>"Oh, business!" interrupted Stephano, suspiciously. "Cospetto! You -want once more to leave me."</p> - -<p>"For a time; yes."</p> - -<p>"Oh, for a time; yes!" echoed Ferrari, mockingly. "Amica mia, you have -a strange way of speaking to him who adores you. Dio, you play with me -like a child. I love you, and wish you for my wife. You say 'yes,' and -depart for a time. Now return you to me and again say, 'Stephano, I -leave you for a time.'"</p> - -<p>"I made no promise to be your wife," said Mrs. Belswin, angrily, "nor -will I do so unless you help me now."</p> - -<p>"Help you! and in what way? Has the little daughter been cruel? You -wish me to speak as father to her."</p> - -<p>"I wish you to do nothing of the sort. My daughter is quite well, and -I was perfectly happy with her."</p> - -<p>"And without me," cried Ferrari, jealously; upon which Mrs. Belswin -made a gesture of irritation.</p> - -<p>"We can settle that afterwards," she said, drawing off her gloves: -"meanwhile let us talk sense. I shall be up in town for a fortnight."</p> - -<p>"And you stay, cara?"</p> - -<p>"At an hotel in the Strand. I'll give you the address before I leave."</p> - -<p>"Bene! I will then have you to myself for two weeks."</p> - -<p>"It all depends on whether you will help me in what I wish to do."</p> - -<p>"Ebbene! Is it il marito?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin nodded, and the Italian burst out laughing.</p> - -<p>"Povero diavolo. He has then come again."</p> - -<p>"No! but he arrives next week."</p> - -<p>"How pleased you are," said Ferrari, mockingly. "Oh, yes, he will be -so sweet to behold you."</p> - -<p>"That's the very question! I don't want him to see me."</p> - -<p>"Then return not to the little daughter."</p> - -<p>"I must! I must!" cried Mrs. Belswin in despair. "I can't give up my -child after meeting her again. Twenty years, Stephano, and I have not -seen her; now I am beside her every day. She loves me--not as her -mother, but as her friend. I can't give up all this because my husband -is returning."</p> - -<p>Signor Ferrari shrugged his shoulders and lighted a cigarette.</p> - -<p>"But there is nothing more you can do," he said, spreading out his -hands with a dramatic gesture, "eh, carrissima? Think of what is this -affair. Il marito has said to you, 'Good-bye.' The little daughter -thinks you to be dead. If then you come to reveal yourself, il -marito--eh, amica mia! it is a trouble for all."</p> - -<p>"What can I do?"</p> - -<p>"Nothing! oh no, certainly! You have beheld the little daughter for a -time. Now you are to me again. I say, Stella 'dora, with me remain and -forget all."</p> - -<p>"No, I will not! I will not!" cried Mrs. Belswin, savagely, rising to -her feet. "Cannot you see how I suffer? If you love me as you say, you -must see how I suffer. Give up my child, my life, my happiness! I -cannot do it."</p> - -<p>"Dio! you cannot make the miracles."</p> - -<p>"I can! I must! Do you think I will stay with you while my child calls -me?"</p> - -<p>"With me you must stay, my Norma. I love thee. I will not leave you no -more."</p> - -<p>"You can't stop me."</p> - -<p>"Ebbene," said Ferrari, conscious that he held the advantage. "Go, -then, and see how il marito will behold you."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin felt her helplessness, and clenched her hands with a -savage cry of despair, that seemed to be torn out of her throbbing -heart. Up and down the gaudy room she paced, with her face convulsed -with rage, and her fierce eyes flashing with an unholy fire, while -Ferrari, secure in his position, sat quietly near the window, smoking -leisurely. His self-possession seemed to provoke her, ready as she was -to vent her impotent anger on anything, and, stopping abruptly she -poured forth all her anger.</p> - -<p>"Why do you sit there smiling, and smiling, like a fool?" she -shrieked, stamping her foot. "Can you not suggest something? Can you -not do something?"</p> - -<p>"Eh, carissima, I would say, 'Be quiet' The people below will hear you -cry out."</p> - -<p>"Let them! What do I care? I am a desperate woman, Ferrari, and I am -determined to keep my position beside my child. I will stop at -nothing--nothing--not even murder!"</p> - -<p>"Murder!"</p> - -<p>Signor Ferrari let the cigarette drop from his fingers, and jumped up -with a cry of dismay looking pale and unnerved. She saw this, and -lashing him with her tongue, taunted him bitterly.</p> - -<p>"Yes, murder, you miserable! I thought you were a brave man; but I see -I made a mistake. You love me! You want to be my husband! No, no, no! -I marry a brave man--yes, a brave man; not a coward!"</p> - -<p>Ferrari winced, with an angry glitter in his eyes.</p> - -<p>"Eh, Lucrezia. You think I am a brave man if I go to assassin il -marito. Cospetto! I am an Italian; but the Italians are not fools. If -another man loved you, and would take you away, I would kill him--yes! -But il marito--eh, that is not quite the same. I kill him and you -return to the little daughter for always. What gain to me, carissima? -I kill him, and your law gives me the rope. What gain to me? No, Donna -Lucrezia. Do what you love. Stab him with a stiletto, or give the -poison, I say nothing; but as for me to obey--Dio, the life is not -trouble to me yet."</p> - -<p>"You are afraid."</p> - -<p>He bounded across the room, and seized her roughly by the wrist.</p> - -<p>"Devil-woman, I have no fear! You lie to speak so I You lie, figlia -inferna."</p> - -<p>"Then why do you refuse to help me?"</p> - -<p>"Per Bacco, I am no assassin. Il marito is not an enemy to me. To you -he is hateful. Revenge yourself as it pleases; but I--cospetto. You -ask too much."</p> - -<p>He flung her away from him with a gesture of anger, and began to walk -about the room. Mrs. Belswin remained silent, savagely disappointed at -the failure of her plan, and presently Ferrari began to talk again in -his rapid, impulsive fashion.</p> - -<p>"If there was any gain. Yes. But I see not anything. I would work -against myself. You know that, Signora Machiavelli. Ah, yes; I am not -blind, cara mia. While il marito lives, you are mine. He will keep you -from the little daughter. But he dies--eh, and you depart."</p> - -<p>"No, no! I swear----"</p> - -<p>"I refuse your swearing. They are false. Forget, il marito--forget the -little daughter! You are mine, mia moglie, and you depart not again."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin laughed scornfully, and put on her gloves again with the -utmost deliberation. Then, taking up her umbrella, she moved quickly -towards the door; but not so quickly as to prevent Ferrari placing -himself before her.</p> - -<p>"Where go you?" demanded the Italian, between his clenched teeth.</p> - -<p>"To find a braver man than Stephano Ferrari."</p> - -<p>"No; you will find no one."</p> - -<p>"Won't I? Pshaw! I have found one already."</p> - -<p>The Italian sprang on her with a bound like a tiger, seized her hands, -and placed his face so close to her own that she could feel his hot -breath on her cheek.</p> - -<p>"You have a lover, traditrice?"</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>"You lie! I believe you not!"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin laughed, and made an attempt to go away.</p> - -<p>"Sit in that chair, infamous!"</p> - -<p>"I will not."</p> - -<p>"Sit in that chair, I order."</p> - -<p>"You order!"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I, Stephano Ferrari."</p> - -<p>She looked first at the Italian, then at the chair; and his aspect was -so determined that, in order to avoid an unseemly struggle, she sat -down as desired, with a shrug of the shoulders.</p> - -<p>"Now, tell me of this lover."</p> - -<p>"There is nothing to tell."</p> - -<p>"You lie!"</p> - -<p>"I do not lie."</p> - -<p>With eyes as fierce as his own, she looked straight at him, and it -became a question as to which of them had the stronger will. Her -determination to retain her position at any price, even at the cost of -her husband's life, had roused all her worst passions, and for the -first time since he had known her, the Italian averted his eyes with a -shudder of dread.</p> - -<p>"Jettatura," he cried, recoiling from her malignant gaze, and making -horns with his fingers to avert the blighting consequences of her -look. Mrs. Belswin saw her advantage, and immediately began to play on -his superstition.</p> - -<p>"I have the evil eye, you think. Yes; it is so. Why have you never -discovered it before? Because I gave you love. To those who cross me -not, I am kind; but an insult---- Ah! you shrink. Well, then, take -care. I never forgive. I never forget."</p> - -<p>Ferrari, completely cowed by her manner, threw himself on his knees -before her, and held out his hands with a gesture of entreaty.</p> - -<p>"Stella 'dora, leave me not. Behold me at your feet, cruel one. I die -in your anger."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin saw that she had gained command over him, but was too -wise to push her conquest too far; so, bending down, she gave him her -hand, which he covered with fierce kisses.</p> - -<p>"Rise, Stephano, and I will tell you all. For two weeks I will be in -town, and with you all the days. You can call at my hotel if it -pleases you. If I decide nothing about my husband you can come down -with me to Deswarth, and we will face him together."</p> - -<p>"But this lover?"</p> - -<p>"I have no lover. I spoke in jest. Your devotion has touched me, and I -will reward it by becoming your wife. For the present," said Mrs. -Belswin, with a charming smile, "I will say 'a reverderci.' If you -send me a box I will come and hear you sing to-night."</p> - -<p>Ferrari once more kissed her hand, there was a rustling of skirts, a -closing of the door, and she was gone.</p> - -<p>The Italian stood where she had left him, with a scared look on his -face; and after a few minutes looked at the door through which she had -vanished, with a nervous smile.</p> - -<p>"Jettatura!" he muttered, shivering. "Jettatura."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_15" href="#div1Ref_15">CHAPTER XV.</a></h4> -<h5>THE RETURN OF THE WANDERER.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-7px"> -"Oh, I have seen the Southern Cross -In Southern skies burn clear and bright, -And I have seen the ocean toss</p> -<p class="t2">Beneath its gleam in waves of white.</p> -<p class="t1">Its beauty brought me no delight,</p> -<p class="t2">For I was on a foreign shore;</p> -<p class="t1">But now joy cometh with the sight</p> -<p class="t2">Of England's chalky cliffs once more."</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>Quite unaware of the pitfalls prepared for him by his now nearly -forgotten wife, Sir Rupert Pethram had returned once more to England, -and rejoiced greatly, in his dry fashion, to find himself again under -his own roof-tree. Kaituna was delighted to have him home again, and -welcomed him with a filial affection that made a deep impression on -his somewhat hard nature.</p> - -<p>He was not a favourite with the world, being so stiff and dry in his -manner that every one felt a feeling of uneasiness towards him; -consequently, he was unused to affection, except from his daughter, -whom he loved fondly in his own undemonstrative fashion. A difficult -man to get on with, at least people said so; and the haughty, distant -smile with which he greeted every one was enough to chill the most -exuberant expressions of friendship. Not even his residence in New -Zealand, where, as a rule, humanity is much more sociable than in -England, had eradicated the inherent exclusiveness of his nature. -True, in his young days he had been more friendly with his -fellow-creatures, but the episode of his wife's divorce had destroyed -his feelings of sociability entirely; and although, being an upright, -honourable gentleman, he was respected throughout the colony, he was -certainly not loved. He was a man who lived entirely alone, and, -except his daughter Kaituna, there was no one on whom he bestowed a -thought.</p> - -<p>Yet he was not uncharitable. If he saw suffering he relieved it; if -any one desired help he was not backward in giving his aid; still, -even the recipients of his charity found it difficult to feel warmly -towards him in any way. He did not believe in gratitude, and therefore -never sought for it, but did his good deeds in a stolid matter-of-fact -fashion that robbed them of their charm in the eyes of the onlookers. -It seemed as though his unhappy married life had blighted his -existence, had frozen in his breast all feelings of tenderness towards -humanity, for he was eminently a man who acted from right motives, and -not from any feelings of impulse to relieve suffering or help his -fellow-creatures.</p> - -<p>In appearance he was tall, slender, and rather good-looking, with a -thin, wrinkled face, scanty grey hair, and a darkish moustache. Well -dressed in a quiet fashion, undemonstrative and distant in his -manners, he embarrassed all with whom he came in contact; for the -well-bred coldness of his voice, and the supercilious look in his grey -eyes, and the <i>noli-me-tangere</i> of his behaviour made every one around -him feel uncomfortable.</p> - -<p>With Kaituna he was always as pleasant and agreeable as he was able to -be, but his daughter felt that any pointed display of affection would -be received with disapproval by her singular parent.</p> - -<p>A man so straight-laced, so rigid in the due observance of all social -duties, could not but be annoyed at the absence of his daughter's -chaperon at a time when he was expected home. She was Kaituna's -guardian in his absence, responsible for her in every way, and he was -naturally anxious to see if Mr. Dombrain's choice was a good one.</p> - -<p>Shortly after his arrival he broached the subject to Kaituna, while -waiting for his horse to be brought round, as it was his intention to -ride round the estate with Belk.</p> - -<p>"Kaituna," he said, in his frigid voice, "when do you expect this lady -to return?"</p> - -<p>"In about ten days, papa."</p> - -<p>"Do you like her, my child?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, papa, I love her."</p> - -<p>Sir Rupert raised his eyebrows.</p> - -<p>"That is a strong expression, and a mistaken one. My child, never give -your love to any one. They will betray you."</p> - -<p>"Isn't that rather severe?"</p> - -<p>"Not from my experience," answered Pethram, with emphasis. "But there, -there! do not look so sad, child. You are young yet, and all geese are -swans in your eyes. But about Mrs. Belswin. I am very much annoyed -that she should have gone away at this time. It is not courteous to -me, nor in keeping with her position as your companion."</p> - -<p>"But she had to go about some business, papa," said Kaituna, rather -afraid at the frown she saw on her father's face.</p> - -<p>"Business! business! Her business is here, child. I expect Mrs. -Belswin to give all her time to you."</p> - -<p>"She has done so until now."</p> - -<p>"And now is the most important time, as I wish to see if she is a good -companion for you."</p> - -<p>"I'm sure you will like her very much, papa."</p> - -<p>"Impossible. I like no one very much."</p> - -<p>"Not even me?"</p> - -<p>She threw her arms round Sir Rupert's neck, and his face relaxed -somewhat under her smile.</p> - -<p>"There, there, child!" he said, pushing her gently away, "if I have a -weak spot in my heart it is for you. Now, good-bye at present I'm -going to see how things are looking."</p> - -<p>So he went away in the bright, breezy morning, and Kaituna was left -alone in deep thought, wondering how she could tell him of the offer -of marriage made to her by Archie Maxwell. She was a brave enough girl -in most things, but felt decidedly reluctant to speak to her father -about a subject she knew would be disagreeable to him. Archie was -young, handsome, hopeful, and loved her dearly; but these four -excellent qualities would seem nothing in Sir Rupert's eyes as opposed -to poverty. The girl was in despair, knowing her father's iron nature -as she did, and longed for the return of Mrs. Belswin, in order to -have at least one friend to stand by her. It was true that Archie had -declared himself ready to speak to Sir Rupert at once; but Kaituna, -dreading the refusal of her father to countenance the engagement, -persuaded him to wait until her chaperon came back. Meanwhile, she -went off to her own room to read her lover's last letter; for as -Archie, not being duly accredited, could not come to the house, they -were obliged to correspond in a clandestine manner, which was not -without its charm to the romantic nature of Miss Pethram.</p> - -<p>While, therefore, Kaituna was attending to her business, Sir Rupert -was attending to <i>his</i>. Accompanied by Belk, he rode over the estate, -looking into things, and exercised the young man's dull brains pretty -considerably by his shrewd questions concerning this and that and the -other thing. Sir Rupert Pethram had not been a penniless younger son, -nor graduated in New Zealand for nothing, for he knew as much about -land, and crops, and cattle, and top dressing as any man. Being thus -accomplished, he took occasion to read his bailiff a severe lecture, -which Belk received in sulky silence, on the slip-slop fashion in which -things were conducted.</p> - -<p>"When I pay my servants well," said Sir Rupert, severely, "I expect -them to look after my interests thoroughly. There has been a great -deal of neglect here, and I expect you to place things on a much more -satisfactory footing. Do you hear me?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir; I'll do my best."</p> - -<p>"Your best will be my worst, I'm afraid, judging from what I've seen. -I'll give you a few months longer; but if you don't improve things in -that time, Mr. Belk, I'm afraid you and I will have to part company."</p> - -<p>Belk was in a towering rage at thus being spoken to; but, as he wanted -to retain his situation, he held his tongue, nevertheless determining -in his own mind that he would repay Sir Rupert for his reproof as soon -as he was able. Fortune offered him an unexpected chance, of which he -took immediate advantage.</p> - -<p>Returning home with Sir Rupert, a dogcart containing two young men -passed them on the road, the occupants of which nodded to Belk, whom -they knew slightly.</p> - -<p>"Who are those gentlemen?" asked Sir Rupert, sharply.</p> - -<p>"One is Mr. Clendon, the vicar's son, sir."</p> - -<p>"And the other?"</p> - -<p>Belk saw his chance; for, knowing all the gossip of the place, he was -aware that Kaituna's engagement was unknown to Sir Rupert; so in the -hope that it would be disagreeable, he spoke out straight.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Maxwell, sir. The gentleman engaged to Miss Pethram."</p> - -<p>"What the devil do you mean?" demanded Sir Rupert, haughtily.</p> - -<p>"I beg your pardon, sir. I only answered your question."</p> - -<p>Pethram looked keenly at the man, to read his real meaning; but Belk -kept his countenance with the greatest skill, so the baronet was -forced to believe that he had spoken in all good faith.</p> - -<p>"You can go, Belk," he said curtly, turning his horse's head; "and -don't forget what I've said."</p> - -<p>The bailiff looked after him with a savage look in his face.</p> - -<p>"No, I won't forget," he said to himself, scowling. "That affair's -been kept from you, but you know all about it now. If I can find a -chance of hurting you, my fine gentleman, I'll do it, to pay you out -for your cursed pride this day."</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Sir Rupert, outwardly calm, was riding home consumed with -rage. What! his daughter engaged to a man of whom he knew nothing--of -whose very name he was ignorant? It was infamous. And she had never -said a word about it. Good heavens! where was Mrs. Belswin, to permit -such a thing? Evidently it was common gossip. All the county knew it; -and his daughter, whom he loved and trusted, had withheld her -confidence.</p> - -<p>"She's like her mother," said Sir Rupert, between his clenched teeth; -"deceptive in all things. Never mind, I'll get the truth out of her -before the day is an hour older, and then--Oh, these women! these -women! daughters and wives, they are all the same. They smile, they -kiss, they betray; and we poor fools believe them."</p> - -<p>Touching his horse with the spur, he rode at full gallop up the -avenue, in order to relieve his over-burdened feelings; and, when he -was once more in his own study, sent for his daughter without delay.</p> - -<p>Kaituna obeyed this unexpected summons with considerable trepidation, -having, with feminine instinct, guessed the reason for which her -father wanted to see her so suddenly. She found him standing in front -of the fireplace, with his hands behind his back, and a stern look on -his face--a look she had never before seen directed at her.</p> - -<p>"Will you take a chair," said Pethram, with glacial politeness. "I'm -sorry to trouble you about a disagreeable matter; but, being your -father, I owe it to myself and to you to speak."</p> - -<p>She sat down in the chair he indicated with a sinking heart, and -waited in silence to hear his reproaches. Sir Rupert, however, had no -intention of making any; he disliked a scene, and was moreover skilful -in using that irony which cuts like a knife, and which is far more -effective than unreasoning rage.</p> - -<p>"So you have deceived me, Kaituna?"</p> - -<p>"Father!"</p> - -<p>"Am I your father? I hardly think so, when you conceal from me the -most important event of your life."</p> - -<p>Kaituna had a considerable spice of the paternal nature in her, so she -took a hint from the baronet, and used his own weapons to defend -herself.</p> - -<p>"I don't understand to what you allude, sir."</p> - -<p>"Do you not? If, then, you will give me your attention for a few -moments, I will try and enlighten you. I saw a young gentleman in the -distance to-day, and asked Belk who he was. In reply I was informed -that it was a Mr. Maxwell, to whom you are engaged. Will you kindly -inform me if this is the case?"</p> - -<p>Kaituna lifted her head defiantly.</p> - -<p>"I love Mr. Maxwell, and wish to marry him."</p> - -<p>"Indeed. I presume you never considered that it was necessary to -consult me?"</p> - -<p>"I intended to do so, father, when--when Mrs. Belswin returned."</p> - -<p>"Ah! Mrs. Belswin then knows all about this affair?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"And is going to ask me to consent to the marriage?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>Sir Rupert walked up and down the room for a few minutes, then, -pausing before his daughter, spoke deliberately.</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid you may think me somewhat inquisitive, but I should like -to know something about this Mr. Maxwell. Where did you meet him?"</p> - -<p>"At Marsh-on-the-Sea."</p> - -<p>"Indeed! And having fallen in love with you there, he followed you up -here."</p> - -<p>"Yes! He was going to ask you to consent to our marriage."</p> - -<p>"Very considerate of him; but as yet he has not done so. Who is my -future son-in-law?"</p> - -<p>"Father," cried Kaituna, the tears coming into her eyes, "do not speak -so cruelly. He is a civil engineer, and I love him very--very dearly. -Mr. Clendon, the vicar, knows him. He is staying there just now."</p> - -<p>"Very interesting indeed. Has he any money?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know! I think not."</p> - -<p>"So you were going to marry in this extremely doubtful fashion. I must -say the whole affair does equal credit to your heart and head."</p> - -<p>"Father!"</p> - -<p>"Pardon me! one moment. This estate is entailed, and should I die -to-morrow, you do not inherit a penny, as it goes to the next male -heir of the Pethrams. If, then, you do not make a good match, I -confess I do not see how you are to live."</p> - -<p>Kaituna said nothing, but remained with downcast eyes, looking at the -ground, while her father went on speaking in a cold tranquil tone.</p> - -<p>"Knowing that you would be penniless at my death, I went out to New -Zealand, sold all my property, and invested the money in an Australian -Silver Mining Company. You may be sure I did not do so without first -personally inquiring thoroughly about the prospects of the company. -From what I learned, I am sure that it will turn out well, and in the -event of its doing so, you will be an heiress. Under these -circumstances I can rest assured as to your future, should I die in an -unexpected manner."</p> - -<p>"I understand, father, but--but--what are you going to do?"</p> - -<p>"I am going to write to Mr. Maxwell, thank him for his very -gentlemanly behaviour, and refuse to sanction the match."</p> - -<p>Kaituna flung herself on her knees before him.</p> - -<p>"No, no! you will not be so cruel. I love him, papa! Oh, you don't -know how I love him."</p> - -<p>"I know well enough, Kaituna. You love him so much that you would go -and live in a cottage, on dry bread and water. This is youthful folly, -and I decline to aid you to ruin your life in such a way. Mr. Maxwell -has behaved very badly----"</p> - -<p>"No! No!"</p> - -<p>"I say he has," replied Pethram, with emphasis; "no gentleman would -have acted as he has done. I will write him at once, and if he seeks -an interview he shall have it, so that I can tell him to his face my -opinion of his conduct."</p> - -<p>"Father!"</p> - -<p>"Not another word, Kaituna. Rise from your knees, for all your tears -won't alter my decision. I won't ask you to dismiss this gentleman; I -will do it myself."</p> - -<p>His daughter, stung by his cold irony, sprang to her feet with a cry -of anger.</p> - -<p>"Papa! Papa! Don't do that. I love him! I want to marry him!" Then, -after a pause, stamping her foot, "I will marry him."</p> - -<p>"Will you? I'm afraid not," replied Pethram, coldly; "you are under -age, remember."</p> - -<p>"Oh, what shall I do! what shall I do," cried the girl, tearfully, -raising her head.</p> - -<p>"Behave like a sensible woman, and give up this madness."</p> - -<p>"No, I will not. I will be true to Archie!"</p> - -<p>Pethram shook his head with a vexed air.</p> - -<p>"My dear child, you are really very foolish. I don't wish to argue any -more on the subject."</p> - -<p>"You are going to write to--to Mr. Maxwell?"</p> - -<p>"At once."</p> - -<p>"And refuse to let him marry me?"</p> - -<p>"Exactly."</p> - -<p>"Then," said Kaituna, pausing a moment at the door, "I swear by the -name of my mother that I will be true to him."</p> - -<p>She was gone in a moment, and Sir Rupert, over whose face had come a -grave, worn look, laughed discordantly.</p> - -<p>"By the name of her mother," he said with a sneer. "Ah! she little -knows what her mother was."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_16" href="#div1Ref_16">CHAPTER XVI.</a></h4> -<h5>FOREWARNED IS FOREARMED.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-7px">"'Tis ill work fighting in the dark,</p> -<p class="t2">Though skilled you be in use of lance;</p> -<p class="t1">A random thrust may stretch you sark,</p> -<p class="t2">Though guided but by fickle chance.</p> -<p class="t1">'Tis wisest, then, to fight in light,</p> -<p class="t2">For you can judge your foeman's skill;</p> -<p class="t1">And though in armour he be dight,</p> -<p class="t2">Your lance may find some place to kill."</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>The interview which had taken place between Mrs. Belswin and her -Italian lover had been productive of a curious change in the demeanour -of the latter. From being master he became slave, from commanding he -changed to obeying; and taking advantage of this astonishing -transformation, Mrs. Belswin ordered her quondam master about like a -dog. She saw that by a single flash of her fierce eyes at a critical -moment she had inculcated the superstitious Italian with the idea that -she was possessed of the evil eye, and had by so doing taken all the -manhood out of him. This son of the south, who was decidedly brave in -the presence of physical danger, was so completely the slave of -superstition that he firmly believed Mrs. Belswin's eyes exercised a -malignant influence upon him, against which he was powerless to -struggle. Notwithstanding this terrible feeling, he was too much in -love with her to think of removing himself from the dread fascination -of her presence, and therefore, he accepted his new position with -superstitious resignation. Once or twice, indeed, he attempted to -exert his former authority; but the ominous gleam in Mrs. Belswin's -eyes, and the significant sneer on her lips, soon reduced him to -obedience, and he cowered at the feet of his sometime slave in abject -terror. It was not physical fear, it was not a want of manliness: it -was simply the effect of a supernatural terror acting upon a nature -singularly prone, both by birth and training, to yield to such weird -superstitions.</p> - -<p>Having thus reduced Ferrari to such a state of bondage, Mrs. Belswin -thought that there would be no difficulty in making him put her -husband out of the way in some stealthy manner. Here, however, she was -entirely wrong, as Ferrari, being afraid of the English law, -absolutely refused to lend himself to the committal of a crime even at -the command of his evil genius. In vain, with all the artistic craft -of a woman, she prayed, implored, cursed, ordered. Ferrari would not -be moved from the position which he had taken up, in holding himself -aloof from the power of the law. Afraid of her in every other way, he -did exactly as she asked him, but in this special case his fear of the -visible power of justice was greater than his fear of supernatural -visitation from the glance of the evil eye, and after a fortnight's -battling Mrs. Belswin was obliged to confess herself beaten by the -steady refusal of her slave to obey her in what she desired most of -all things to be done.</p> - -<p>By means of Belk she had kept herself thoroughly well acquainted with -all that had taken place at Thornstream during her absence. The -bailiff employed his mother, who was always haunting the great house, -to find out what was going on. So, the information she gave her son, -he, in his turn, retailed by letter to Mrs. Belswin in London. From -this source, therefore, the latter learned all about Sir Rupert's -return, the discovery of the engagement, and the dismissal of Archie -Maxwell by the angry baronet. On hearing all this news, Mrs. Belswin, -with rare resolution, made up her mind to go down to Thornstream and -see her husband face to face. She saw plainly that she could do -nothing criminal against him, and so determined to have an interview -with him, and throw herself on his mercy. If he granted her this all -would be well; if, however, he spurned her--well---- Mrs. Belswin -knitted her brows, clenched her hands, and drew a long breath. She was -a despairing, reckless woman, and would stop at nothing to gain her -ends, so it seemed as though Sir Rupert was in a very dangerous -position. The baronet was no coward, but he would certainly have felt -a thrill of fear had he known this meditated attack by his terribly -savage wife.</p> - -<p>One effect of Ferrari's newly-born dread of Mrs. Belswin's -supernatural powers was that he followed her like a dog, and seemed -afraid to let her out of his sight. Formerly, having a full belief in -his power to draw her back to himself, he had not minded her being -away for certain periods; but now that he deemed his dominating power -was gone, he was afraid lest she should leave him altogether, and kept -a close watch upon all her actions. He was with her all day, and at -night, when forced to attend to his business, insisted that she should -come to the theatre and stay in a private box, where he could see -her during the performance. Mrs. Belswin did not wish to abuse her -newly-gained power over him, so acquiesced in his somewhat -unreasonable demands; but when she made her preparations to return to -Thornstream, he insisted upon accompanying her there.</p> - -<p>"But what about your business?" objected Mrs. Belswin.</p> - -<p>"That will be right, cara mia," he replied rapidly. "See you--we will -go down on Sunday--I do not sing that night; and I will return on -Monday--with you."</p> - -<p>"I will not return on Monday."</p> - -<p>"Signora, you will, I think so. On Sunday night you will behold il -marito. He will order you away; and what is left but to come back with -your faithful Stephano?"</p> - -<p>"What you say is very true," said Mrs. Belswin, coolly, "but things -may turn out so that I can stay."</p> - -<p>"Eh! have you the plan, Donna Lucrezia?"</p> - -<p>"No; I leave everything to chance."</p> - -<p>"Dio! what faith!" muttered Ferrari, lifting his hands; and the -conversation ended with Mrs. Belswin agreeing that Ferrari should -accompany her to Thornstream on Sunday afternoon.</p> - -<p>With that profound belief in the unseen which is a strong -characteristic of half-civilised natures, Mrs. Belswin, seeing that -she could do nothing herself, left everything to chance, and expected -this blind faith to be rewarded by some miraculous intervention which -should change her husband's heart towards her. She had no grounds for -such belief, but, hoping against hope, kept repeating to herself that -all would yet be well, and that things would end happily.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, in spite of her striving to look upon the bright side of -things, she received something of a shock when, on arriving at the -Deswarth railway station, she saw Archie Maxwell advancing towards her -with a most lugubrious expression of countenance. Wishing to speak -with him, she sent Ferrari off to look after her portmanteau and drew -the disconsolate lover into the bare waiting-room, where they could -converse freely.</p> - -<p>"Well?" asked Mrs. Belswin, sharply, looking at the downcast face of -the young man; "is all this true?"</p> - -<p>"About Sir Rupert?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, of course! What else would I speak of?"</p> - -<p>"It's all true! quite true--worse luck!"</p> - -<p>"He has refused to sanction the engagement?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. I received a letter from him, in which he accuses me of acting -shamefully in winning his daughter's heart. Oh!" cried, Archie, -clenching his hands, "if he was not her father! You never saw such a -letter--a cruel, wicked letter! If he was not her father I would make -him apologise for its insolence."</p> - -<p>"Oh," said Mrs. Belswin, cruelly. "So, being her father, you are going -to sit quietly down under this insult."</p> - -<p>"What can I do?"</p> - -<p>"Do! Oh, if I only were a man! Do! Why, marry Kaituna in spite of him. -Why don't you see Kaituna and urge her to marry you at once?"</p> - -<p>"I have done so, and she refuses to disobey her father."</p> - -<p>"Good heavens!" thought Mrs. Belswin savagely, "the girl is no -daughter of mine to allow herself thus to be robbed of the man she -professes to love."</p> - -<p>She kept this sentiment to herself, however, and only said abruptly--</p> - -<p>"What are you doing here?"</p> - -<p>"I'm going up to town on business."</p> - -<p>"Indeed! So you capitulate without a struggle?"</p> - -<p>"No, I don't," replied Maxwell, flushing at the cold contempt -expressed in her tone. "I am going to see my employers about this -Buenos Ayres business which I put off till the end of the year. If I -can manage it I'll start for South America next month."</p> - -<p>"Alone?"</p> - -<p>"Not if I can help it. On my return I'll try and persuade Kaituna to -accompany me."</p> - -<p>"And disobey her father?"</p> - -<p>"There's no help for it," replied Archie, with a groan. "We love one -another very dearly, and I don't see why our lives should be spoilt at -the caprice of a selfish old man."</p> - -<p>"What does your friend Mr. Clendon say?"</p> - -<p>"He is entirely on my side."</p> - -<p>"And Mrs. Valpy?"</p> - -<p>"The same. They think Sir Rupert is an old brute,"</p> - -<p>"So he is," muttered Mrs. Belswin, angrily.</p> - -<p>"Well, Mr. Maxwell," she said aloud, "I also am on your side. It's a -shame that your lives should be spoilt for a caprice. But remember one -thing, Sir Rupert will cut his daughter off with a shilling."</p> - -<p>"Let him. Kaituna and I can face poverty together."</p> - -<p>"Poor innocents," said Mrs. Belswin, with a jeering laugh, "you don't -know what poverty is."</p> - -<p>"You needn't speak so unkindly," replied Archie, rather hurt at her -tone, "I thought you wished me to marry Kaituna."</p> - -<p>"So I do, but I don't want you to starve."</p> - -<p>"We shall not starve. I can always make a good income."</p> - -<p>"My dear sir," said Mrs. Belswin, candidly, "your income may be enough -for one but it certainly is not enough for two, particularly when the -other is a girl brought up as Kaituna has been. If you marry Kaituna -without her father's consent, you drag her down to poverty."</p> - -<p>"Oh!"</p> - -<p>"Yes, you do. It's no good glossing over those matters. Better look at -the hard simple facts, Mr. Maxwell, and you will find it best in the -long run. You love Kaituna, she loves you, and you look forward to -love in a cottage and all that kind of thing, which does not exist out -of novels. The reality, however, is not so pleasant."</p> - -<p>"Then what am I to do? Give up Kaituna?"</p> - -<p>"Certainly not. Kahuna's happiness is as dear to me as it is to you. -If you left her she would pine away, and I'm sure you would not be -happy."</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Belswin," cried the young man in desperation, "I don't know what -you mean. You blow hot and cold; you are both for and against. You say -marry Kaituna, and then you add it is a selfish thing to drag her to -poverty. I don't understand your meaning."</p> - -<p>"Oh, the density of lovers," said Mrs. Belswin, with an angry flash of -her fierce eyes. "You are like all men, my dear Mr. Maxwell, and never -see an inch beyond your nose. Does it never strike you that I am also -fond of Kaituna, and would do anything to insure her happiness."</p> - -<p>"You?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, even I. Oh, don't look so disbelieving, my friend. I may have -more power than you think with Sir Rupert."</p> - -<p>"But you don't know Sir Rupert."</p> - -<p>"Don't I?" replied Mrs. Belswin, grimly. "That's all you know. Well, -here is your train, Mr. Maxwell, so I'll say good-bye."</p> - -<p>"But what are you going to do?" said Archie as they went out on to the -platform.</p> - -<p>"I don't know--yet."</p> - -<p>"Will you get Sir Rupert to consent to our marriage?"</p> - -<p>"Perhaps."</p> - -<p>Maxwell jumped into a first-class carriage with a sigh of despair, and -put his head out of the window for a moment as the train started.</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Belswin!"</p> - -<p>"Yes?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know your meaning, but you seem to have some power, so I'll -leave the future happiness of Kaituna and myself in your hands."</p> - -<p>"You will trust me?"</p> - -<p>"Entirely."</p> - -<p>"Very well; you will see your trust has not been misplaced."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin, however, was promising more than she could perform, and -stood frowning deeply as the train went off. From this reverie she was -aroused by a touch on her shoulder, and on turning saw Ferrari.</p> - -<p>"Is that the man?"</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?"</p> - -<p>"Is it the one who is ready to do for you what I refuse."</p> - -<p>She looked at him mockingly, and, woman-like, determined to torture -him.</p> - -<p>"My good Stephano, if you knew that, you would be as wise as myself!"</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_17" href="#div1Ref_17">CHAPTER XVII.</a></h4> -<h5>BEFORE THE STORM.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1">Before the storm the woods are still,<br> -All Nature drowses as in sleep;<br> -Yet, tho' her slumbers she may keep,<br> -She feels a strange prophetic thrill,</p> -<p class="t3">Before the storm.</p> -<br> -<p class="t1">From heavy clouds on mount and hill,<br> -The thunders mutter--lightnings leap,<br> -And soon the heav'ns commence to weep,<br> -Such strained silence augurs ill,</p> -<p class="t3">Before the storm.</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>Living at Thornstream was hardly very pleasant after the interview -between Sir Rupert and his daughter. Everything went on just the same, -but this very calmness was a foreboding sign of a coming tempest. The -baronet was deeply angered at what he considered Kaituna's feminine -duplicity, but hiding all such feelings under a mask of ultra -politeness, he treated her with a cold courtesy which was far more -irritating to the proud spirit of the girl than any outburst of wrath -would have been.</p> - -<p>Inheriting, however, no inconsiderable portion of the paternal pride, -she, on her part, treated her father with distant politeness; so these -two proud spirits found themselves entirely separated, the one from -the other, by the insurmountable barrier of disdainful silence, which -they had each contributed to build. They lived under the same roof, -they took their meals at the same table, they interchanged the usual -remarks concerning daily events, and, to all outward appearances, were -the same to one another as they had ever been; but it was far from -being the case, for the confidence of the father in the daughter, of -the daughter in the father, had entirely disappeared, and they -regarded one another with mutual distrust.</p> - -<p>It was certainly a very unhappy state of things, and was entirely due -to the peculiar views held by Sir Rupert, regarding his bearing -towards his womankind. Had he interviewed Maxwell personally, and -judged for himself as to his fitness to become the husband of -his daughter--had he spoken of the matter to Kaituna in a kindly -manner--had he made some allowance for the mutual love of these young -people, who had set aside conventional observations, things might have -been better. But, by ordering his daughter to give up her lover, as he -had formerly ordered his high-spirited wife to give up her friend, he -committed a fatal mistake, and as he had reaped the consequences of -such high-handed proceedings before by losing his wife, it seemed as -though history would repeat itself, and he would lose his daughter. -Had he shown Kaituna the folly of a hasty love match, had he entreated -her for her own sake to be cautious, had he requested her to consider -her determination--but to order, ah, that was the mistake he made.</p> - -<p>Curiously enough, he never saw this. In all things he demanded an -absolute and unquestioning obedience from his household, so it never -for a moment struck him that the girl would dare to defy his -authority. Yet it was so; for in place of making her obedient, Sir -Rupert's blundering conduct had made her crafty, and she made up her -mind that she would never give up her lover.</p> - -<p>Tommy Valpy stood her friend, and Kaituna met Archie at her house, -where they parted with many promises of remaining true to one another. -Then Kaituna returned to Thornstream, and resumed her mask of -politeness; while Sir Rupert, thinking she had obeyed him, and given -up her undesirable lover, was to a certain extent content, although -still suspicious of her apparent acquiescence in his wish.</p> - -<p>Things were in this state when Mrs. Belswin arrived. On leaving the -railway station, after her interview with Maxwell, she had met Belk, -but did not stop to speak to him, being afraid of Ferrari's jealousy. -In this she was quite right, for Belk, seeing her driving past with a -stranger, scowled savagely as he took off his hat; while Ferrari, -noting the good looks of the young man, and seeing the scowl directed -to himself, guessed directly that this was the rival mentioned by Mrs. -Belswin.</p> - -<p>"Mia cara," he said, artfully, as they drove on to Deswarth, "that -handsome gentleman who made the bow--is it your friend?"</p> - -<p>"Friend," echoed Mrs. Belswin, carelessly--"oh, I've so many friends."</p> - -<p>"Is it--" began Stephano, when Mrs. Belswin turned furiously upon him.</p> - -<p>"Don't worry me, Stephano; don't you see I'm busy. Is that the man I -mentioned to you?--yes, it is. You see he is stronger than you, so -don't fight him unless you like. I don't care a morsel for either of -you. All I want is to stay by my child; and as you can't help me, you -coward, don't worry me with silly questions."</p> - -<p>Ferrari said no more, but made up his mind to seek an interview with -the good-looking stranger, and find out whether Mrs. Belswin regarded -him with favour.</p> - -<p>On arriving at Deswarth, which was a short distance from Thornstream, -Mrs. Belswin put the Italian down at "The Chequers Inn," told him to -wait there in concealment until she saw him again, and then drove to -the Hall.</p> - -<p>Being determined not to see Sir Rupert until after dinner, in order to -discover in the meantime how the land lay, she went up to her own room -and sent for Kaituna, who was delighted to see her.</p> - -<p>"Now you are here," said the girl kissing her friend, "you may perhaps -induce papa to let me marry Archie. You know----"</p> - -<p>"I know all about it, my dear," replied Mrs. Belswin, with a maternal -air; "Mr. Maxwell met me at the railway station, and put me in full -possession of all the facts."</p> - -<p>"And do you think papa will let me marry him?" asked Kaituna, timidly.</p> - -<p>"I really cannot tell, dear, until I see your papa."</p> - -<p>"At dinner?"</p> - -<p>"No-o," responded Mrs. Belswin, doubtfully; "I'm tired after my -journey, so I'll have my dinner here. Afterwards I will ask for -an interview with Sir Rupert, so you and your papa can dine -<i>tête-à-tête</i>."</p> - -<p>"No, I'm sure we can't," said Kaituna, in rather a tone of relief; -"Mr. Dombrain is here."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin faced round rapidly.</p> - -<p>"Dombrain!" she echoed aghast. "Your father's solicitor."</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"Now what does he want here, I wonder?" muttered Mrs. Belswin, more to -herself than to her auditor.</p> - -<p>"He came down to make papa's will, I think," said Kaituna.</p> - -<p>"His will!" echoed Mrs. Belswin, struck with a sudden thought. -"Kaituna, if your father dies, will he leave you well off?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, I don't want papa to die."</p> - -<p>"No, no! of course not," said her companion impatiently; "but one -never knows what might happen. But suppose he did die, you would be an -heiress no doubt."</p> - -<p>Kaituna shook her head.</p> - -<p>"I don't think so," she replied, slowly. "You see, Thornstream is -entailed on the male side, and none of it comes to me."</p> - -<p>"But your father was well enough off in New Zealand."</p> - -<p>"Why, how do you know that?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know, dear," answered Mrs. Belswin hurriedly, seeing she had -made a slip; "I only presume so."</p> - -<p>"He used to be well off, but he lost a lot of money lately, and this -time when he went out he sold all his property."</p> - -<p>"Oh!" said Mrs. Belswin, drawing a long breath of relief, "then he -will have a large sum of money in hand."</p> - -<p>"No, indeed! He has put it all into silver mining shares in -Melbourne."</p> - -<p>"The fool!" muttered Mrs. Belswin, below her breath, "to risk his all -in such security."</p> - -<p>"So you see, dear Mrs. Belswin," said Kaituna, pursuing her own train -of thought, "that if Archie wants to marry me for my money, I shall -not have any."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin caught the girl in her arms and kissed her with rare -tenderness.</p> - -<p>"My dear," she said kindly, smoothing the dark hair, "Archie loves you -for yourself, not for your money. Now go downstairs, dear, and excuse -me to your father."</p> - -<p>"And you will see him to-night about Archie?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin gasped in a somewhat hysterical manner, and caught at the -mantelpiece for support, as she repeated the words.</p> - -<p>"I will see him to-night--about--about--Archie."</p> - -<p>Kaituna was satisfied and departed, but when the door was closed after -her, Mrs. Belswin rushed madly across the room, and, flinging herself -on her knees before the door, burst out into a terrible fit of crying.</p> - -<p>"Oh, my dear! my dear!" she wailed, in a low moaning manner, "what can -I do? what can I do? If your father dies you will be left penniless; -if he lives I shall have to leave you forever--for ever, my dear--and -go away into the outer darkness. Oh, God! God! is there nothing I can -do?"</p> - -<p>She looked up at the painted ceiling, as if expecting an answer, but -none came; so, rising wearily to her feet, she locked the door, and -dragged herself slowly towards the mirror.</p> - -<p>"What an old, old woman I look," she muttered, peering into the glass. -"Grey hairs in the black; wrinkles in the smooth face. I wonder if he -will recognise me. Surely not! Twenty years make a great difference. I -will see him now in another two hours. He never dreams I am under the -same roof, unless Dombrain----"</p> - -<p>She started, drew herself up to her full height, and clenched her -hands.</p> - -<p>"Dombrain!" she said again. "Can he have revealed anything to Rupert? -I know he hates me, and would do me an injury if he dared. But he -cannot. No! I hold his secret; while I do that mine is safe with him. -Oh! how ill I feel, but I must not faint, I must not quail. I must be -brave--brave for my child's sake."</p> - -<p>She bathed her face in cold water, took a small liqueur glass of -brandy, which she produced from the dressing-bag, and then went to lie -down for a time before facing her husband.</p> - -<p>"To-night," she murmured, as her head sank on the pillows. "To-night, -Rupert Pethram, we measure swords. Let us see who will win. You or I!"</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_18" href="#div1Ref_18">CHAPTER XVIII.</a></h4> -<h5>FACE TO FACE.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-7px">"Oh, I was the husband and you were the wife;</p> -<p class="t3">We met, and we married, and parted.</p> -<p class="t1">Our meeting was happy, our marriage was strife:</p> -<p class="t3">Our parting left each broken-hearted.</p> -<p class="t1">Our hearts are now cured of their anguish and shame;</p> -<p class="t3">We've learned each our lesson of sorrow;</p> -<p class="t1">'Tis folly to need the same lesson again,</p> -<p class="t3">And so I will bid you 'good-morrow.'"</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>Sir Rupert's study, which was one of the most comfortable apartments -in the house, was placed in the east angle of the building, so that -two of the walls were formed by the outside of the house. It was -lighted by four French windows, two of which were generally open in -fine weather, looking out on to the terrace.</p> - -<p>It was furnished in a heavy, stately fashion, with cumbersome oaken -furniture, upholstered in green morocco, and the walls, hung with -velvety dark-green paper, were surrounded with low oaken bookcases, -the height of a man, filled with well-selected volumes. On top of -these cases were placed choice specimens of ceramic art, consisting of -red Egyptian water-jars, delicate figures in Dresden china, and huge -bowls of porcelain, bizarre with red and blue dragons. Interspersed -with these, quaint effigies of squat Hindoo idols, grotesque bronze -gods from Japan, and hideous fetishes from Central Africa.</p> - -<p>Dainty water-colour pictures in slender gilt frames lightened the -sombre tints of the walls, and between these were highly polished -steel battle-axes, old-fashioned guns, delicate but deadly pistols of -modern workmanship, and dangerous-looking swords, all arranged in -symmetrical patterns. The floor of polished oak was covered with -buffalo skins from American prairies, opossum rugs from Australian -plains, striped tiger-skins from Indian jungles, and white bear-skins -from the cold north; while in the centre of the room stood the desk, -piled with books and loose papers. The whole room had a workmanlike -appearance and an air of literary comfort eminently attractive to a -bookish man.</p> - -<p>On this night the two French windows were wide open, and into the room -floated the rich perfumes of the flowers, broken by the pungent smell -of a cigar which Sir Rupert was smoking as he sat writing at his desk. -At his feet on either side were heavy books, carelessly thrown down -after use, and scattered sheets of paper, while amid the confused mass -on the desk itself was the red blotting-pad and the white note-paper -on which he was writing. There was a lamp on his left, from beneath -the green shade of which welled a flood of heavy yellow light--so -heavy that it seemed to rest sluggishly on the floor and be unable to -rise to the ceiling, where the shade made a dark circle.</p> - -<p>Within--the yellow lighted room, the silent man writing rapidly, the -steady ticking of the clock, and the acrid tobacco scent. Without--the -close night, moonless and starless, the air drowsy with heat, the -faint flower-odours, and the sombre masses of the trees sleeping dully -under the soporific influence of the atmosphere.</p> - -<p>There was something weird in the uncanny stillness of the night, a -kind of premonition of coming woe, which would have certainly affected -the nerves of a highly-strung man; but Sir Rupert did not believe in -nerves, and wrote on carelessly without giving a thought to the -strange prophetic feeling in the air.</p> - -<p>If he had only known he would have fallen on his knees and prayed for -the protection of his guardian angel until the red dawn broke through -the dread shadows of the fatal night.</p> - -<p>The rapid scratching of the pen, the sharp peremptory tick of the -clock, and suddenly a distinct knock at the door. Sir Rupert raised -his head with an expectant look on his face.</p> - -<p>"Come in!"</p> - -<p>A woman entered, tall and stately, arrayed in sombre garments; she -entered slowly, with a faltering step, and paused in the shadow before -the desk. Sir Rupert, his eyes dazzled by the glare of the lamp, could -see her face but indistinctly in the semi-twilight, and only heard her -short hurried breathing, which betokened great agitation.</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Belswin, is it not?"</p> - -<p>The woman placed one hand on her throat, as if striving to keep down -an attack of hysteria, and answered in a low, choked voice--</p> - -<p>"Yes!"</p> - -<p>"I beg your pardon, I did not hear what you said, madam."</p> - -<p>"I--I am Mrs. Belswin."</p> - -<p>Sir Rupert started, and passed his hand across his face with a -confused sense of memory, but, dismissing the sudden flash of thought, -he arose to his feet, and pointed politely to a chair.</p> - -<p>"Will you not be seated, Mrs. Belswin?"</p> - -<p>She was foolish to betray her identity, but whether it was that her -resolution failed her, or that her nerve gave way, or that she -determined to forestall discovery, with an appealing cry she fell on -her knees.</p> - -<p>"Rupert!"</p> - -<p>"God!"</p> - -<p>He tore the shade off the lamp. The heavy, concentrated, yellow light -spread through the room in clear waves of brilliance, and there on the -floor, with wild, white face, with outstretched, appealing hands, with -the agony of despair in her eyes, he saw his divorced wife.</p> - -<p>"Rupert!"</p> - -<p>Step by step he retreated before the kneeling figure, with startled -eyes and dry lips, until he leant against the wall, and thrust out -cruel hands to keep off this spectre of the past.</p> - -<p>"You!"</p> - -<p>"Yes. I--your wife!"</p> - -<p>"My wife!"</p> - -<p>He burst out into a discordant laugh, on which, like a wounded snake, -she dragged herself painfully along the floor until she reached his -feet.</p> - -<p>"Keep off," he whispered, in a hoarse voice; "keep off, you shameless -creature!"</p> - -<p>"But hear me."</p> - -<p>"Hear you!--hear you!" said Sir Rupert, in a tone of concentrated -scorn. "I heard you twenty years ago. The law heard you; the world -heard you. What can you say to me now that I did not hear then?"</p> - -<p>"Pity me. Oh, Rupert, pity me!"</p> - -<p>"Pity you! You that had no pity on me! You that ruined my life--that -blasted my name--that made my home desolate! Pity you! I am not an -angel! I am a man."</p> - -<p>The woman twisted her hands together, and burst out crying into floods -of hot bitter tears that burned and seared her cheeks--those cheeks -that burned with shame at the righteous scorn of the man who had -trusted her and whom she had wronged.</p> - -<p>"What are you doing here?" said Pethram, harshly. "Rise and answer me. -Don't lie grovelling there with your crocodile tears."</p> - -<p>"Have you no mercy?"</p> - -<p>"None for such as you."</p> - -<p>At these cruel words she arose to her feet with an effort and leaned -heavily against the wall, while her husband took his seat in stern -anger, as if she were a criminal brought before him for sentence.</p> - -<p>"You are Mrs. Belswin?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"My daughter's companion?"</p> - -<p>"She is mine as well as yours."</p> - -<p>"Silence!" he said, sternly. "Do not dare to claim the child which you -left so cruelly twenty years ago. Have you no shame?"</p> - -<p>"Shame!" she replied bitterly. "Yes, I have shame. I know what shame -is--twenty years of bitter, cruel shame. God of mercy, twenty years!"</p> - -<p>"Twenty thousand years would not be too much for your sin."</p> - -<p>"Are you so pure yourself that you can judge me so harshly?"</p> - -<p>"I am not here to argue such a question," he said, coldly, with a -cruel look in his eyes. "I want to know what you are doing here."</p> - -<p>"I came as a companion to my daughter."</p> - -<p>"And you told her----"</p> - -<p>"I told her nothing," said Mrs. Belswin, vehemently. "So help -me, Heaven! she knows nothing. I am her companion, her paid -companion--nothing more."</p> - -<p>"I am glad you have had the sense to spare my daughter the story of -your shame. How did you obtain the situation?"</p> - -<p>"It was advertised, and I got it through Dombrain."</p> - -<p>"Did he know who you were?"</p> - -<p>"How could he? Do you think all the world knows the story of my -folly?"</p> - -<p>"Your folly!" he repeated, with deep scorn; "your sin you mean. -Dombrain was a long time in New Zealand; he must have heard of the -case."</p> - -<p>"If he did he never saw me. He did not recognise me."</p> - -<p>Sir Rupert looked at her doubtfully, as if he would drag the truth -from her unwilling lips. She stood before him white, silent, defiant, -and he arose slowly to his feet.</p> - -<p>"Twenty years ago," he said, coldly, "the law gave me my freedom from -you, and I thought never to see you again. Like a thief you have -entered my house during my absence. You have dared to contaminate with -your presence my child--yes, my child, not yours. She ceased to be -yours when you forsook her. How you obtained this entrance I will make -it my business to find out; but now that I know that Mrs. Belswin is -my divorced wife, I order her to leave my house at once. Go!"</p> - -<p>She uttered a piteous cry, and stretched out her hands towards him in -an agony of despair.</p> - -<p>"No, no! you cannot be so cruel."</p> - -<p>"I am not cruel. By your own act you forfeited your right to remain -under my roof."</p> - -<p>"But my child."</p> - -<p>"Your child! Ah, you remember her now, after deserting her for twenty -years! Do you think I will permit you to contaminate her young life by -your presence? Do you think that I can see you day after day and not -remember what you were, and see what you are?"</p> - -<p>His wife cowered before his vehemence, and, covering her face with her -hands, shrank against the wall.</p> - -<p>"Rupert!" she said, in a low pleading voice, "do not be so harsh with -me. If I have sinned I have suffered for my sin. For twenty years I -have longed for a sight of my child, but until now I dared not see -her. Chance sent you away and gave me an opportunity of living with -her as a companion. She does not know who I am. She will never know -who I am, and as her paid companion she loves me! Let me stay beside -her and have some happiness in my wretched life."</p> - -<p>"No; I will not! I wonder you dare ask me."</p> - -<p>"I dare anything for my child."</p> - -<p>"It is too late to talk like that--twenty years too late."</p> - -<p>"You will let me stay. Oh, Rupert, let me stay."</p> - -<p>"No!"</p> - -<p>"For God's sake."</p> - -<p>"No! No!"</p> - -<p>"Reflect! Some day you may need mercy. How can you expect it if you -deny it to me?"</p> - -<p>"You have heard my determination. Go!"</p> - -<p>"Now?"</p> - -<p>"At this moment."</p> - -<p>"You would turn me out of your house like a dog?"</p> - -<p>"I would, and I do! It is all that you deserve at my hands."</p> - -<p>"Is there no mercy?"</p> - -<p>"None--from me. Go!"</p> - -<p>"I will not go," cried Mrs. Belswin, in despair. "I will not go, I -tell you."</p> - -<p>Sir Rupert advanced towards the bell rope.</p> - -<p>"Then I will order my servants to turn you out."</p> - -<p>"But, Rupert, think. Kaituna will learn who I am."</p> - -<p>"Better that than she should be contaminated by your presence."</p> - -<p>The woman clasped her hands together, and then in a frenzy of rage -dashed across the room to pull him away from the bell-rope.</p> - -<p>"You shall not! you shall not!" she shrieked, her fierce eyes flashing -with mad anger. "I will stay! I am a reckless woman! I love my child! -I will not go!"</p> - -<p>"I have the power to make you go, and I will," said Pethram, coldly.</p> - -<p>"Are you a man or a devil?"</p> - -<p>"I am what you have made me."</p> - -<p>"What I made you!" she hissed, in a voice shaking with bitter scorn. -"No! it is you who have made me what I am. I loved you when I married -you. As there is a God above, I loved you; but with your cold, cruel -words, with your sarcastic sneers, with your neglect you killed that -love. I had no friend. I was only a girl, and you crushed my heart. I -was dying for the love and tenderness which you refused to give me."</p> - -<p>"I was a good husband."</p> - -<p>"As the world says, 'A good husband.' You gave me a good home. You -surrounded me with every comfort. To all outward appearance, I had -nothing left to desire. Ah, how little you, with your cold, cruel -nature, know what a woman wants. I desired love! I desired tenderness, -but I did not get it. Oates was kind to me. He cheered my loneliness, -and in a moment of madness I went with him. I regretted it the moment -afterwards. I have regretted it ever since. God knows how miserable my -life has been. Now I have a chance of happiness, I will take advantage -of it. I will stay with my child; you can do what you like, you can -say what you like--I stay."</p> - -<p>Without changing a muscle of his face, Sir Rupert heard his miserable -wife to the end, then advanced once more to the bell.</p> - -<p>"You have said all; now go, or I will have you turned out."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin laughed scornfully.</p> - -<p>"Do what you like," she said, indifferently. "You have said what you -will do; I have said what I will do."</p> - -<p>For the first time Sir Rupert hesitated, and let his hand fall without -ringing the bell.</p> - -<p>"You fiend!" he said, in a cold fury. "Having made my life miserable -before, you now come to do so again. But I knew I was never safe from -your malice. Dombrain, to whom I told all your vile conduct, said you -would come again."</p> - -<p>"He said that? Dombrain said that?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"And he is a fit judge of my conduct!" she burst out in passionate -anger. "Do you know who he is? Do you know what he was? A convict--an -embezzler--a man who has served his term in prison."</p> - -<p>"My solicitor--Mr. Dombrain?" he said, incredulously.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Dombrain!" she scoffed, sneeringly. "Mr. Damberton is his real -name, and it was by knowing what he was and what he is, that I forced -him to receive me as your daughter's companion. I would have spared -him had he spared me, but now--well, you know the worst of him."</p> - -<p>"Yes, and I know the worst of you," he said, fiercely. "Oh, you played -your cards well. But I will turn you out of my house, and to-morrow I -will expose Dombrain or Damberton's real position to all the world."</p> - -<p>"You can do what you like about him, but I stay here."</p> - -<p>"You go, and at once."</p> - -<p>"I will not," she said, desperately.</p> - -<p>"Then I will shame you in the eyes of your own child," he replied, -resolutely, seizing the bell rope.</p> - -<p>"No, no! not that!"</p> - -<p>"I say I will. Either you go at once, or I call in Kaituna and tell -her who and what you are."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin writhed in anguish.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I could not bear that! My own child! Pity, pity!"</p> - -<p>"Will you go?"</p> - -<p>"Pity! pity!"</p> - -<p>"Will you go?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes! My own child! I will go. Yes, don't ring the bell; I will -go now. But do not tell her--oh, Rupert, do not tell her!"</p> - -<p>"I will tell nothing if you leave this house at once."</p> - -<p>She dragged herself slowly towards the window, conscious that she was -beaten. Firm on every point, reckless to the verge of despair, the -thought that her own child should know her shame was too much even for -her.</p> - -<p>"Oh, God! is there no mercy?"</p> - -<p>"None! Go!"</p> - -<p>On the threshold of the window she stood, with her tall form drawn up -to its full height, and her fierce eyes flashing with rage.</p> - -<p>"You part the mother and the child. You drive me out of your house -like a dog. But remember with whom you have to deal. To-night it is -your turn; to-morrow it will be mine."</p> - -<p>He looked at her with a scornful smile, and in a moment she was -swallowed up by the darkness of the night, from whence she had emerged -like a spectre of the past.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_19" href="#div1Ref_19">CHAPTER XIX.</a></h4> -<h5>THE OUTER DARKNESS.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-7px">"I stand outside in the bitter night,</p> -<p class="t3">And beat at the fast-closed door;</p> -<p class="t1">'Oh, let me in to the kindly light,</p> -<p class="t3">Give back to me days of yore.'</p> -<p class="t1">But an angel says, with a frowning brow,</p> -<p class="t3">'The past can no power restore,</p> -<p class="t1">You must dwell in the outer darkness now</p> -<p class="t3">For ever and ever more.'"</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>Through the warm summer night, her heart filled with rage, -humiliation, and despair, fled the unhappy woman, whither she knew -not. All she wanted was to escape from Thornstream, lest her husband, -seeing her by chance, should break his word and tell Kaituna what she -was. If he did so--oh, the horror of it for her daughter to know that -the mother whose memory she reverenced was alive, and an unhappy, -fallen creature! A thousand fiends seemed to shriek in her ears as she -ran onward, and it was only when she came against the trunk of a tree -and fell half-stunned on the cool grass that she stopped in her mad -career.</p> - -<p>How cool was the delicate touch of the grass, how sweet the perfume of -the flowers. She buried her hot face among the primroses, and pressed -her aching breast against the chill bosom of the earth to still the -agonised throbbing of her heart.</p> - -<p>Under the great tree she lay in an exhausted condition, thinking of -her failure to conciliate Pethram, of the past with all its follies, -of the present with its pain, and the future which looked so hopeless -and dreary.</p> - -<p>It was all over. She had staked everything on the casting of a die, -and lost. Her husband had driven her away from the house, from her -child, and there was nothing left for her to do but to return to -London with Ferrari and marry him at once. Never again would she live -with her child. She might see her--yes; but without being seen--for -she knew that if she spoke again to Kaituna everything would be -revealed by Rupert Pethram. To destroy that beautiful memory of, -motherhood, which was the chief treasure of Kaituna's life--to show -herself in her true colours as a fallen and wretched woman--no, she -could not do that; better exile, better wretchedness, better death -than the terrible truth.</p> - -<p>With a groan she sat up among the soft grass, her hands lying idly on -her lap, her wild face raised to the lonely sky. Yes, lonely, for -above there was nothing but clouds, black heavy clouds, as gloomy as -her own future. Oh, God! was there no hope? Was there----</p> - -<p>Stay! the clouds part, rolling heavily to the westward, revealing a -glimpse of dark blue sky, and set therein like a diamond, the glimmer -of a star. Hope! yes, it was a sign of hope! a sign of promise! a sign -of comfort?</p> - -<p>She thought she would go back to Ferrari and see if he could suggest -any plan by which she could turn the tables on her husband; so -brushing the dead leaves off her dress, she threw the lace kerchief -she wore round her neck over her head, after the fashion of a -mantilla, and walked rapidly down the avenue towards Deswarth.</p> - -<p>The rapid motion of walking seemed to restore her nerve and with such -restoration she regained again the fierceness of her savage spirit. -The moment of softness was past, the good angel who had comforted her -with the star of hope fled away in terror, and over her head the angel -of evil, who had been her constant companion for so many years, now -spread his sable wings.</p> - -<p>He had ordered her away. He had parted her from her child. This -man--her husband that used to be, who had ruined her life by his cruel -words and studied neglect. The blame of her sin rested on his -shoulders, and she had suffered in the eyes of the world. Now once -more he triumphed, and while he was resting, honoured and respected in -his own house, she was flying through the night like a guilty -creature.</p> - -<p>"Oh!" muttered Mrs. Belswin between her clenched teeth, "if I was a -man I'd kill him. But I can do nothing! I can do nothing. Yet I don't -know. If I can persuade that cowardly Ferrari, or Belk. Belk would do -anything for me. What is to be done must be done to-night--to-morrow -it will be too late. Which way am I to turn?"</p> - -<p>She paused a moment; pressed her hands on her beating heart, then -suddenly made up her mind.</p> - -<p>"I will see Ferrari--first."</p> - -<p>The Chequers Inn was just on the outskirts of Deswarth, and a -comparatively short distance from Thornstream, so it did not take Mrs. -Belswin long, at the rapid pace at which she was walking, to arrive -there.</p> - -<p>It stood a short distance back from the road, and the night being hot, -all the doors and windows were open, letting the yellow light within -stream out on to the dark village street. On the benches outside a -number of yokels were drinking and talking loudly together about some -fortnight-old event which had just reached their out-of-the-way -parish. Mrs. Belswin, not wishing to be recognised, flitted rapidly -past them, and was standing in the passage hesitating whether to make -herself known to the landlord or not, when luckily at that moment -Ferrari came out of a side door with the intention of going into the -taproom. Like a ghost the woman glided forward and laid her hand on -his arm.</p> - -<p>"Stephano!"</p> - -<p>"You, cara mia."</p> - -<p>The passage was so dark that he was able to recognise her by her voice -alone, and the noise from the taproom was so loud that only a quick -ear like his could have distinguished her low tones.</p> - -<p>"Come into some room. I wish to speak to you."</p> - -<p>"Here, then!" he said, drawing her into the room from whence he had -emerged, "what is wrong? Il marito! eh! Dio! By your face there is -trouble."</p> - -<p>With a sigh of relief Mrs. Belswin flung herself wearily into a -chair, while Ferrari carefully closed the door and took up his -position on the hearthrug. Even in that moment of anxiety Mrs. -Belswin, with that noting of trivial things common to a preoccupied -mind, noticed the tawdry furnishing of the apartment--the gaudy -wall-paper, on which hung brilliantly coloured portraits of the Queen, -the Prince of Wales, and General Gordon; the vivid red of the -tablecloth, the dingy blue of the chairs, and the tarnished mirror -over the fireplace swathed in fly spotted yellow gauze. Ferrari had -evidently been smoking, for there yet lingered about the room the -odour of a cigar, and the atmosphere was slightly hazy with smoke, -while the smoky flame of a badly trimmed kerosene lamp faintly -illumined the whole place.</p> - -<p>On a chair near the wall sat Mrs. Belswin, faint and weary, but with -an angry light in her wonderful eyes; and standing on the hearthrug -the Italian, his hands behind his back, and his body slightly bent -forward, eager, anxious, and expectant.</p> - -<p>"II marito?" he repeated, inquiringly.</p> - -<p>The woman made a gesture of assent, upon which Ferrari rubbed his -hands together with an air of satisfaction.</p> - -<p>"Bene!" he said, smiling and showing his white teeth; "it is as I said -it would be. Il marito has said 'Depart,' and you, my Lucrezia, have -come back to the faithful one. Ah, che gioja! We will now leave this -fog land and go to my beautiful Italy--dolce Napoli. The waiting is -over, cara mia. You are to me at last, ah felicita!"</p> - -<p>"You go too fast, my friend," replied Mrs. Belswin, with a cold look -of disapproval on her expressive face. "Do you think I will marry a -coward?"</p> - -<p>"I am no coward! If a man to me dared to speak the word I would show -him I am Italian. It is your eyes--your evil eyes--that make me -afraid. But you will not be cruel to me again, bellissima," he added, -in a caressing tone. "You have come to say, 'I love thee.'"</p> - -<p>"Listen, Stephano," said Mrs. Belswin, rising to her feet and crossing -to the Italian. "I wish to tell you what he said. No! do not touch me! -Wait! I saw my husband. He spoke cruelly to me; he made me leave his -house--yes, turned me out like a dog!"</p> - -<p>"Cospetto!"</p> - -<p>"Ah, that stirs your blood! I see your eyes flash! Can you see me--the -woman you love--treated in this manner? No! I am sure you love me too -much. You are Italian! You have a strong arm and a warm heart! Is it -not so?"</p> - -<p>"But what wish you, Signora?"</p> - -<p>"Kill him!"</p> - -<p>She had caught the Italian by the coat with her two hands, and her -face was so close to his own that he felt her hot breath on his pale -cheek. With a gesture of alarm he shrank away, and was about to speak, -but she prevented him.</p> - -<p>"You are afraid of the law," she went on hurriedly. "Do not be afraid. -Listen! He--that man I hate--the man who has treated me like a dog--is -in a room with open windows that lead on a terrace. Go there without -noise--wait in the shadow. Within all is light--without all is -darkness. Draw him to the window by some trick. When his figure is in -the light, shoot him with this!"</p> - -<p>Ferrari gave a gasp, for she had thrust a small revolver into his -hand, upon which his fingers unconsciously closed.</p> - -<p>"I cannot do it myself," went on the temptress; "I dare not. They -would find out who I was, and what I did. I bought this pistol to kill -him to-night, but my heart failed me. No one will think it is you. Go! -Go, if you love me, and kill him, I will be your wife--I will do what -you wish--I will go where you like--only kill him! Kill him!"</p> - -<p>It was no civilised woman who was thus planning a murder in such a -cold-blooded manner. It was a savage, with all the blood-thirsty -instincts of a barbaric race. All the European side of this woman's -nature had vanished, and the primeval lust for blood dominated her -entirely. Ferrari felt this horrible truth as her face, distorted with -passion, pressed close to his own, and with a cry of fear thrust her -away, dropped the pistol on the floor, and covered his face with his -hands.</p> - -<p>"Devil woman that you are! No!"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin whirled into the centre of the room like an enraged -tigress.</p> - -<p>"You won't do it?" she hissed madly. "You won't help me? I was right. -You are a coward. Well, I will ask you no more--I will do it myself."</p> - -<p>She picked up the pistol lying at his feet and turned to the door, but -with a cry of horror he sprang in front of her, and prevented her -exit.</p> - -<p>"No, no! you are mad! You are mad! I will not let you go."</p> - -<p>"Stand away! I will go."</p> - -<p>"No, cara, think. Dio!"</p> - -<p>Like a caged panther she looked round the room for a means of exit, -for, mad with rage as she was, she yet retained sufficient sense to -know that a scene at the "Chequers" would be detrimental to her plans.</p> - -<p>"I must go! I must go!"</p> - -<p>Her eye caught the window, and like a flash of lightning she sprang -towards it, tore it open, and bounded through into the darkness like a -panther, uttering a laugh of triumph as she vanished.</p> - -<p>Ferrari darted forward, but stopped half-way across the room in -amazement.</p> - -<p>"Dio! what a devil. I must go, or she will kill him."</p> - -<p>He put on his hat and coat rapidly, and, closing the window, left the -inn by the door.</p> - -<p>"My friend," he said to the landlord, "I go for a little walk. Addio!"</p> - -<p>Luckily none of the labourers outside had seen Mrs. Belswin leave, as -she had slipped past them in the shadow, and the road to Thornstream -being perfectly deserted, she was free from discovery. Ferrari had -explored the neighbourhood that afternoon, so, knowing the way to -Thornstream, walked slowly along the road until out of sight of the -inn, then ran rapidly onward through the darkness, longing to catch a -glimpse of the flying woman speeding towards Thornstream with murder -in her heart.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_20" href="#div1Ref_20">CHAPTER XX.</a></h4> -<h5>A MYSTERIOUS AFFAIR.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-7px"> -"Stark and stiff in the lonely night,<br> -Stiff and stark in the dawning light,</p> -<p class="t3">There it lies<br> -With unseeing eyes,</p> -<p class="t1">And placid face of a bloodless white.</p> -<br> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-8px">"Who hath slain this man by guilt and fraud<br> -Bears on his brow, deep-seared and broad,</p> -<p class="t3">The blood-red stain<br> -Which is mark of Cain,</p> -<p class="t1">Unseen by man but beheld by God."</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>The red light of dawn burned in the eastern skies, the first faint -thrill of life ran through the earth as the twitter of awakening birds -was heard in the green woods, then the glorious sun sent his beams -over the chill lands, bathing everything in golden splendour. -Thornstream Hall faced to the east, and the great shafts of sunlight -breaking through misty morning clouds, pointed downward like the -finger of God on to the terrace--to the open window of Sir Rupert's -study, and there in the splendour of sunrise lay a dead man.</p> - -<p>Face downward he lay, with half of his body in the room, the other -half on the terrace, and the hands stretched out in the form of a -cross, clenched in the agony of death.</p> - -<p>Last night--this morning--nay, but a few hours back, and this was a -living, breathing man, full of all the passions, sins, and hatred of -humanity; now an empty shell, a soulless husk, was all that remained -of Sir Rupert Pethram.</p> - -<p>Then the servants began to move about the house attending to their -morning duties, and one--it was the housemaid--entered the study to -put it in order. There she saw the dead man, and with a terrible cry -fell senseless to the ground. Her cry brought in her fellow-servants, -there were expressions of incredulous wonder, exclamations of horror, -and then a general hubbub of voices.</p> - -<p>In a few minutes all the household knew the terrible truth that Sir -Rupert had been found dead in his study, shot through the head, and -Dombrain came to the scene of the tragedy with horror on his face, -followed by Kaituna and Mrs. Belswin.</p> - -<p>"For God's sake don't let Miss Pethram see it," said Dombrain to the -butler, "nor Mrs. Belswin. It is not a sight for women."</p> - -<p>But it was too late; they were both in the room, and Kaituna with a -cry of horror fell on her knees beside the dead body of her father, -while Mrs. Belswin stood looking down at the corpse with an impassive -expression on her strongly-marked features.</p> - -<p>The servants had left the room in order to send for the police, and -only three persons were left with the dead man--Kaituna, convulsed -with grief, kneeling by the body, and Mrs. Belswin standing beside -Dombrain, both silently looking--at the dead man? No. At the weeping -daughter? No. At one another? Yes.</p> - -<p>The questioning look of Dombrain said--</p> - -<p>"You were the dead man's enemy. Is this your work?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin's eyes replied defiantly.</p> - -<p>"I was, and am still, the dead man's enemy. I defy you to prove that -this is my work."</p> - -<p>They eyed one another steadily for a few moments, and then the man's -eyes drooped before the fierce daring of the woman's.</p> - -<p>There was silence in the room broken only by the sobs of Kaituna.</p> - -<p>"Come away, my dear," said Mrs. Belswin, bending down with a caressing -gesture. "Come to your room; we can do no good here."</p> - -<p>"Oh!" cried Kaituna, rising slowly from her knees; "who has done this? -My poor father! My poor father! Who has murdered him?"</p> - -<p>Again a flash of suspicion between Dombrain and Mrs. Belswin.</p> - -<p>"We do not know dear," said the latter, soothingly; "but Mr. Dombrain -has sent for the police. Perhaps they will find out the truth."</p> - -<p>"They must! they must!" cried the girl, in an agony of grief. "Oh, it -is terrible. To have come back for this. To be killed under his own -roof by an enemy. Oh, why does God permits such things?"</p> - -<p>"God permits many things," said Mrs. Belswin, bitterly, putting her -arm round the shrinking form of her daughter. "Come away, dear. All -that can be done will be done. The English police are clever, and may -perhaps capture the murderer."</p> - -<p>Dombrain smiled, and Mrs. Belswin noticed the smile.</p> - -<p>"Perhaps the murderer may escape," he said with emphasis, giving a -stealthy glance at Mrs. Belswin's coldly impassive face.</p> - -<p>"He may escape man; but he will not escape God," cried Kaituna, -fervently. "Oh, come away, Mrs. Belswin, come away. I shall die if I -stay here."</p> - -<p>"You will of course do everything that is necessary, Mr. Dombrain," -said the chaperon, as she led the weeping girl to the door.</p> - -<p>"Of course," he replied, stolidly. "I will arrange everything."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin looked at him steadily, and then left the room with the -heart-broken daughter, while Dombrain, left alone beside the corpse, -drew a long breath.</p> - -<p>"What nerve," he said, under his breath; "what nerve."</p> - -<p>The police came, took possession of the house, brought down detectives -from London, questioned every one, held an inquest, and--discovered -nothing. Well; it was a difficult case. The police are not infallible; -therefore they failed to discover the murderer of Sir Rupert Pethram. -If it had been a low London murder case, for instance, of the -Whitechapel poker sort, then, indeed, the criminal would not have -escaped human justice; but in this affair it was impossible to move in -any direction. Justice promised to do what she could, and did nothing. -That bandage over her eyes is often in the way, and in this instance -blinded her altogether; so whomsoever had killed Sir Rupert Pethram -was quite safe, as far as this stupid, blind, blundering Justice was -concerned.</p> - -<p>Of course the police had a theory which explained everything, and -accomplished nothing. The daily papers argued one way, the police -argued another, the public gave their view of the matter; and after -great cry, there was little wool.</p> - -<p>Sir Rupert, according to an intelligent jury, came by his death at the -hands of a person unknown, a verdict which was vague, and might mean -anything. Then he was placed in the family vault, and the title and -estates went to a distant cousin; Kaituna left Thornstream a penniless -orphan, and a new order of things began.</p> - -<p>The new heir was a man of business, who was hard, and prided himself -on being hard. He had a large family; and thinking the Thornstream -rents was quite small enough to rear his dozen children--male and -female in equal proportion--declined to do anything for Kaituna, whom -he scarcely knew.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin, thereupon, stepped forward, and took Kaituna off to -London with her to see Mr. Dombrain, and ascertain, if possible, what -private property Sir Rupert had died possessed of. Mr. Dombrain was -quite happy to oblige Mrs. Belswin in every way and did what he could; -but that was comparatively little; so little indeed, that it made no -difference in the financial position of Kaituna, and she remained -dependent on the bounty of Mrs. Belswin.</p> - -<p>But Archie Maxwell! Oh, he behaved admirably. On hearing of the death -of Sir Rupert, through the medium of the press, he came down at once -to Deswarth, consulted with Toby, and made every effort to find out -the assassin of Sir Rupert, but without success. Then he proposed to -marry Kaituna as soon as possible after the death of her father, which -arrangement was approved of by Mrs. Belswin, who added, however, that -they could not marry on nothing; and as Archie was not rich, and -Kaituna was now poor, there was nothing left for them but to wait.</p> - -<p>This Archie agreed to do, after much persuasion, but meantime was with -Kaituna as often as possible. He came up to London with Mrs. Belswin, -helped her to select a comfortable lodging; and when his sweetheart -and her chaperon were established, went off on his own account to see -Mr. Dombrain.</p> - -<p>"Has Miss Pethram absolutely nothing?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"Really," says the solicitor, "I don't know if I can give you any -information----"</p> - -<p>"Yes, you can! I am engaged to Miss Pethram, and I am going to marry -her as soon as I can. I don't want her money for myself, but I want -her to get her rights."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Maxwell," said Dombrain, solemnly, "the late Sir Rupert was a -great friend of mine, and I would do anything for his daughter, but -I'm afraid that she inherits nothing but two thousand shares."</p> - -<p>"Oh, indeed! In what company?"</p> - -<p>"In the Pole Star Silver Mining Company, Limited Melbourne, -Australia."</p> - -<p>"Are they worth anything?"</p> - -<p>"Not even the paper they are written on."</p> - -<p>"Hump!" said Archie, thoughtfully, "from what I heard of Sir Rupert, I -should hardly think he was a fool, and no one but a fool would invest -his money in a rotten company. Do you know anything of Australian -mining?"</p> - -<p>"I know New Zealand," replied Mr. Dombrain, evasively, "but I'm not -acquainted with Australia. The mine may turn up trumps. On the other -hand it may not."</p> - -<p>"Are these shares all the property left by Sir Rupert?"</p> - -<p>"Yes! He had land in New Zealand; but when he came in for the title he -sold it all, and invested the money in these shares. He thought he -would be able to save money from the Thornstream rents, to leave to -his daughter, but as he occupied the position of master such a short -time, of course he saved nothing."</p> - -<p>"And the new baronet, Sir Thomas, will do nothing for Miss Pethram?"</p> - -<p>"Nothing!"</p> - -<p>"What a scoundrel!"</p> - -<p>Mr. Dombrain shrugged his shoulders, and declined to commit himself to -an opinion,--a legal opinion is worth seven shillings and sixpence, so -there is no use wasting that amount.</p> - -<p>"By the way," said Archie, as he was going, "what do you think of this -murder?"</p> - -<p>"I think it is a most mysterious affair," said Dombrain, after a -pause. "I can't account for it; I was staying in the house as you -know, and left Sir Rupert in his study quite hearty. I heard no pistol -shot, and in the morning he was dead. Most extraordinary."</p> - -<p>"Had Sir Rupert any enemies?"</p> - -<p>"My dear sir, we all have enemies," replied Dombrain, evasively.</p> - -<p>"I dare say; but one's enemies don't go as far as murder as a rule," -answered Archie, dryly.</p> - -<p>"No! no! that is true. But really, Mr. Maxwell, you know as much about -the murder as I do, and I dare say are as completely in the dark."</p> - -<p>"I shan't be in the dark long."</p> - -<p>"How so?"</p> - -<p>"Because I'm going to find out who murdered Sir Rupert."</p> - -<p>"Take my advice and don't try," said Dombrain slowly.</p> - -<p>"Why not?" demanded Maxwell, looking at him keenly.</p> - -<p>"Because you'll discover nothing. How can you? The police have -failed."</p> - -<p>"I don't believe in the police much," replied Archie lightly. "I may -succeed where others have failed. Good-bye. Mr. Dombrain, I am going -to see Miss Pethram, and will probably see you again about these -shares."</p> - -<p>When Maxwell had departed the solicitor sat in deep thought for a few -minutes.</p> - -<p>"I wonder," he said at length, "I wonder if he knows anything about -Mrs. Belswin."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_21" href="#div1Ref_21">CHAPTER XXI.</a></h4> -<h5>ARCHIE MAKES HIS PLANS.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:15%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-7px"> -"If you are my friend,<br> -I set you this task.<br> -Aid me to an end,<br> -If you are my friend,<br> -Your comradeship lend.<br> -This secret unmask.<br> -If you are my friend<br> -I set you this task."</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>"Maxwell, Globetrotters, to Clendon, Vicarage, Deswarth.--Come to me -at once. Important."</p> - -<p>Toby was a lover and therefore unwilling to leave the vicinity of his -beloved; but he was also a friend, and being of a kind, staunch -nature, speedily made up his mind to obey at once the telegram. His -father who sincerely regretted the misfortune which had befallen the -unfortunate Kaituna and her lover, warmly approved of his son's going -away; so, Toby's mind being at rest concerning the parental opinion, -he rode over to the Valpys, in order to see what Tommy thought about -the matter.</p> - -<p>As he expected, she said he was to lose no time in going to Maxwell, -and also gave him several affectionate messages for Kaituna.</p> - -<p>"You don't know how sorry I am for her, Toby," she said, with a sigh. -"Fancy losing your father and then all your money."</p> - -<p>"Still Archie is left," observed Toby, wisely.</p> - -<p>"Yes; I'm glad of that. She will always have him to protect her, and -that kind woman, Mrs. Belswin. Now then, Toby, don't you say there are -no good people in this world when Mrs. Belswin has acted as she has -done."</p> - -<p>"I never said there were no good people in the world," retorted her -lover in an injured tone. "I only said that good people are few and -far between."</p> - -<p>"Of course," went on Tommy, without noticing this defence, "Kaituna -could always have found a home with ma and I. I wish she had come here -instead of going to London; but Mrs. Belswin seems very fond of her, -and then Mr. Maxwell will marry her soon, so she will be happy some -day."</p> - -<p>"I wonder why Mrs. Belswin is so very fond of Kaituna," speculated -Toby, idly. "Paid companions as a rule don't go beyond their wages in -the matter of affection, but Mrs. Belswin goes the entire bakery."</p> - -<p>"Toby, don't be vulgar," replied Miss Valpy, reprovingly; "Mrs. -Belswin is a very superior woman."</p> - -<p>"I hate superior women."</p> - -<p>"Oh, thank you!"</p> - -<p>"You're not a superior woman," said Clendon, laughingly.</p> - -<p>"What am I, then?"</p> - -<p>"The dearest girl in the world."</p> - -<p>"I am! I am! You'll find that out when your wife's milliner's bill -comes in. Now, don't, Toby! There are more important things than -kissing."</p> - -<p>"Not just now," replied Clendon, and kissed her twice. "Good-bye, -dearest I shall expect a letter every day."</p> - -<p>"Will you really? How long will you be absent?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know! It depends on what Archie wants to see me about."</p> - -<p>"Well, I'll write. Good-bye, and take my love to Kaituna."</p> - -<p>"Certainly; only I hope it won't get damaged during the transit."</p> - -<p>So they parted, and Tommy returned to discuss Kaituna's future with -her mother, while Toby packed his portmanteau, and, after taking leave -of his father, caught the afternoon train to town.</p> - -<p>Archie Maxwell, when engaged in foreign parts, underwent all -incidental hardships without a murmur, and accepted all disagreeables -with a philosophy beautiful to behold; but Archie Maxwell when in -London indemnified himself for all such hardships by giving himself as -many pleasures as his income permitted him. Being a young gentleman of -good family, he had a very reputable circle of acquaintances, he had -very pleasant rooms in the West End, and belonged to the -Globetrotters, which is, as every one knows, a very exclusive club. -Being clever in his profession, Archie made a very decent income, and -having no reason that he knew of to save money, spent every penny he -made with a kind of "it-will-be-all-right-in-the-end," philosophy; but -now that he was engaged to Kaituna, he made various excellent -resolutions about economy, and resolved to put by as much as possible -for the future home of Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell.</p> - -<p>He was a very methodical young man, was Mr. Maxwell, and speedily -made up his mind what course to pursue, which course involved the -co-operation of Clendon--hence the telegram which brought the latter -up to town.</p> - -<p>As Toby had let his chambers during his visit to Deswarth, Archie -offered to put him up for the night, which offer Clendon accepted with -avidity, as he too was on the economic tack. Oh, it was truly a -beautiful spectacle to behold these young men, formerly so careless of -money matters, now as careful of the shillings as they had been -careless of the pounds. On this night, however, as Archie was going to -arrange his future plans, he proposed to Toby that they should, for a -few hours only, revert to the dear old extravagant days and enjoy -themselves. To this Toby, who hankered after the flesh pots of Egypt, -agreed; so they arranged to have the best dinner which the -Globetrotters was capable of providing; and afterwards Archie was to -unburden his mind to his friend.</p> - -<p>The Globetrotters is a very pleasant club, in an excellent situation, -and as the members are all travelled men of a sociable turn of mind, -the society to be found there is not to be despised from an -informative point of view. Had Marco Polo, or Christopher Columbus, -lived in the nineteenth century, they would certainly have been -members of the Globetrotters; and as for Ulysses--but then Ulysses was -fond of feminine society, so perhaps he would not have cared for the -exclusively masculine element of the club. At all events, when Archie -(who being a traveller, was a member) arrived with Toby--who being a -stay-at-home, was not--they found a great many pleasant people there, -including a bearded traveller, who had been lion-shooting in Africa; -another who had made arrangements to find out the North Pole, if he -was able; and several other nineteenth century productions, who all -knew and liked Maxwell. Archie, however, was too taken up with his -plans to waste much time in hearing adventures about big game -shooting, and artful savages; so he went off with Toby to a very -retired table, where they had an excellent dinner under the -supervision of a friendly waiter, who was as great a traveller as any -in the club, having been a steward on a P. & O. liner.</p> - -<p>After dinner, during which they had discussed various topics, all -bearing on the Pethram murder, and their future married happiness, -Archie and his friend sought a secluded corner in the smoking-room, -ordered coffee and cigarettes, and, when they were thoroughly -comfortable, began to talk business.</p> - -<p>"Toby," said Archie, reflectively, "we've known each other a good many -years."</p> - -<p>"Seeing we were at school together I may say we have," replied -Clendon, smiling. "Come, now, Archie, you want me to do something, and -don't like asking."</p> - -<p>"That's true, because I'm going to ask you to make a sacrifice."</p> - -<p>"Not to give up Tommy?"</p> - -<p>"No! no! I don't want to break your heart, old fellow; but I--I----"</p> - -<p>"Well, what is the sacrifice?"</p> - -<p>"I want you to leave England for a few months and go to Melbourne."</p> - -<p>"What for?" asked Toby, aghast at this strange request.</p> - -<p>"I'll tell you! I have been to Dombrain, who is the late Sir Rupert's -lawyer, about the will; and I find he has left Kaituna all his -personal property."</p> - -<p>"Well, that's jolly."</p> - -<p>"The personal property consists of shares in a silver mine, which at -present are worth nothing."</p> - -<p>"Oh! that's not jolly. But what about Thornstream? Isn't Kaituna the -heiress?"</p> - -<p>"No! Thornstream is entailed on the male side, and all the property -goes with the title. Had Kaituna been a man, she would have inherited; -but as she is a woman she doesn't get a penny."</p> - -<p>"I see."</p> - -<p>"The present baronet," pursued Archie, smoothly, "is a beastly -skinflint, and won't give Kaituna a penny; so had it not been for the -kindness of a stranger--I allude to Mrs. Belswin--I don't know what -the poor girl would have done."</p> - -<p>"I do," said Toby, emphatically; "she would have gone to the Valpys, -who asked her to come; or to the vicarage, where the dear old pater -would have looked after her. Bless you, Maxwell, she would have been -all right."</p> - -<p>"I know both your father and the Valpys are good kind people," replied -Maxwell with emotion; "and of course, if the worst came to the worst, -she could have married me at once, and we would have got on somehow. -Still all these possibilities do not make Mrs. Belswin's kindness any -the less."</p> - -<p>"She's a good sort," said Clendon, feelingly. "Why, if Kaituna had -been her own daughter she couldn't do more for her than she is doing. -But get on with your story."</p> - -<p>"Well, Kaituna, as I have shown you, gets nothing from Thornstream or -the present baronet; so all she inherits is her father's private -property. Now, in New Zealand he had a good deal of land, but when he -came in for the title he converted it all into cash, and with that -cash he bought two thousand shares in The Pole Star Silver Mining -Company, in Melbourne."</p> - -<p>"Wasn't that rather rash?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know. It certainly appears so. Now Dombrain assures me that -the shares are not worth the paper they are written on; but I've got -my doubts on the subject; so I want you to go out to Melbourne and -find out all you can about the mine."</p> - -<p>"But what can I do? I know nothing about mining."</p> - -<p>"Oh, you can find out from the brokers if the mine has any prospect of -turning out well. Dombrain is arranging all the will business, so as -soon as Kaituna is legally in possession of the shares I will send out -the scrip to you, and also a power of attorney. Perhaps the mine will -turn up trumps; if it does, you can sell, if not--well, there's no -harm done."</p> - -<p>There was silence for a few moments, during which Toby was thinking -deeply, and his good-looking face wore a more thoughtful expression -than usual.</p> - -<p>"Of course, Archie," he said at length, "I am anxious to oblige you in -all things; but you must admit that this is a little serious."</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes. I told you it was a sacrifice," replied Archie, readily. "I -would go myself, only I have a strong reason for remaining in -England."</p> - -<p>"May I ask that reason?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. I want to find out who killed Sir Rupert."</p> - -<p>"You'll never do that," said Toby, shaking his head. "Why, my dear -lad, the police could find absolutely no clue."</p> - -<p>"The police be--blessed," retorted Archie, with contempt. "I am going -on my own ideas in this matter; and I'm going to get Mrs. Belswin to -help me."</p> - -<p>"But she knows nothing."</p> - -<p>"That's very likely; but she saw Sir Rupert on the night of his -murder, and if she can recollect her conversation, who knows but what -some chance word in it might lead to the detection of the murderer. -Besides, Mrs. Belswin is a very clever woman, and in a case of this -difficulty, women see clearer than men."</p> - -<p>"Why are you so anxious to find out this murder?"</p> - -<p>"Because I want to set Kaituna's mind at rest. The poor girl is -worrying herself about the affair; and if I can find out and punish -the assassin of her father, it will give her great relief."</p> - -<p>There was again a short silence, and then Archie went on speaking:</p> - -<p>"You see now, my dear lad, why I wish you to help me in this. I cannot -do both things myself at the same time; for if I go to Melbourne, the -murderer of Sir Rupert may escape; and if I stay and hunt for him, the -mine may turn out a success, and no one will be there to look after -Kaituna's interests."</p> - -<p>"Does Kaituna know all your ideas," asked Toby, thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>"Yes; and approves of them. So does Mrs. Belswin. You see, as she has -been such a good friend to Kaituna, I had to tell her everything."</p> - -<p>"Of course; quite right," responded Toby, heartily. "Well, old fellow, -I'll tell you what. Some time ago <i>The Weekly Scorpion</i> spoke to me -about taking a trip out to Australia, and writing up the colonies; so -if I accept that, I'll combine pleasure and business."</p> - -<p>"That would be capital," said Archie, with a sigh of relief; "for to -tell you the truth, Toby, I was rather anxious about the money for you -to go with. Kaituna has none. I can't ask Mrs. Belswin; so I would -have had to find it myself."</p> - -<p>"Archibald Maxwell," said Clendon, wrathfully, "do you mean to say -that you thought I would have been such a mean wretch as to let you -find all the expenses of my voyage?"</p> - -<p>"Well, I couldn't ask you to give your time and money also."</p> - -<p>"Oh, couldn't you? Don't be an ass, old chap. Had I gone without the -<i>Scorpion</i> chips, I would have halved the ex's; but this newspaper -business cuts the Gordion knot. All I have got to do is to accept -their offer, and I shall get all my expenses paid, and a jolly good -price for my articles into the bargain, which cash can go to hurry up -my marriage."</p> - -<p>"Well; will you go?"</p> - -<p>"As far as I can see at present, yes," replied Toby, quickly; "but I -must speak to Tommy and the pater."</p> - -<p>"They may object," said Maxwell, dolefully.</p> - -<p>"Oh, no, they won't," retorted Clendon, gaily. "Bless you, a trip to -Australia is nothing nowadays. I could do it on my head. And I will -too, considering it's at the Antipodes."</p> - -<p>Archie rose to his feet with a sigh of relief.</p> - -<p>"I'm so glad there is a chance of your doing what I ask you," he said -gratefully.</p> - -<p>"It all depends upon the home authorities," replied Clendon, -judiciously; "but I think you can set your mind at rest, old fellow. -I'll go home to-morrow, and wire you result of inquiries. I think you -can pretty well rely on everything being fixed up beautifully."</p> - -<p>"You're a good fellow, Toby."</p> - -<p>"I am! I am! My friends don't know half my virtues. But about this -detective business of yours, Archie, I'm afraid you won't find out -anything."</p> - -<p>"I'll try, at all events. 'Nothing is done without trying.'"</p> - -<p>"Oh, if you're going in for copy-book maxims, I've nothing more to -say."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_22" href="#div1Ref_22">CHAPTER XXII.</a></h4> -<h5>MRS. BELSWIN CONSIDERS WAYS AND MEANS.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1">Fortune's a jade. When we don't require her,</p> -<p class="t3">She ever beside us is staying.</p> -<p class="t1">Fortune's a jade. For when we desire her,</p> -<p class="t3">She never responds to our praying.</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>Mrs. Belswin was not a rich woman. When she left her husband she took -no money, naturally supposing that Silas P. Oates, who played the part -of co-respondent in the divorce case, would take care of her. Their -romance, however, came to an end, for the lady's temper being -uncertain, and the gentleman's income being equally so, things went -anything but smoothly, so they parted. Where her quondam lover went -Mrs. Belswin neither knew nor cared, but for her part she earned -enough to keep her comfortable by becoming an opera singer. She was a -handsome woman, with a fine voice and great dramatic powers, so as -time went on she took a first class position on the boards, and -therefore earned a great deal of money. Unfortunately, being -open-handed and careless in money matters, she spent her income as she -earned it, and when she arrived in England in search of her daughter, -found herself very badly off. Of course, owing to the peculiar -position she held at Thornstream, she had received no salary, as Sir -Rupert was the only one who could pay her, and when he saw her, -naturally the money question gave way to much more important matters.</p> - -<p>After Pethram's death, Mrs. Belswin had taken possession of Kaituna -with the intention of marrying her to Maxwell, but now found herself -in London with a daughter to provide for and very little money in the -bank.</p> - -<p>Ferrari, certainly, would have been delighted to have shared his -salary with her, but Mrs. Belswin had always kept the Italian at his -distance, and was determined not to give him any hold over her by -being in his debt. Since leaving Oates, she had lived a decent life, -earning her own money and asking favours from no one, so that although -she had led a somewhat Bohemian existence, yet, for the sake of her -child, she had kept herself pure. Reckless, vehement, careless as she -was of all outward appearances, no one could cast a stone at her in a -moral sense, and Ferrari, knowing this well, respected her for it. He -had often pressed her to take money from him, to be repaid by her -marrying him, but Mrs. Belswin, not being prepared to discharge her -debts in this way, had always refused. Even now, when her daughter -looked to her for support, and but a few pounds stood between her and -absolute want, she never thought of asking Ferrari for money, and had -he, suspecting her needs, offered it, she would certainly have -declined to take advantage of his generosity.</p> - -<p>Therefore to appeal to Ferrari was out of the question. But what about -Maxwell?</p> - -<p>No, Mrs. Belswin had her daughter's happiness too much at heart to -jeopardise the girl's future by an appeal to the purse of her future -husband. Besides, Maxwell was not rich, for she had heard him lament -to Toby Clendon over his lack of money, which made him an unacceptable -son-in-law to Sir Rupert.</p> - -<p>Clearly, therefore, she could not ask Archie.</p> - -<p>Of course there was Dombrain. No doubt, if she asked him he would give -her money; but suppose he refused to assist her? Ah, well, then she -could force him.</p> - -<p>At this point of her meditations Mrs. Belswin stopped.</p> - -<p>Could she force him? It was questionable. She did not like the way he -looked at her over the dead body of her husband. Certainly she knew -his secret and could damage his position in London, which he prized so -highly, but then, a worm will turn, and if appearances were against -her as they certainly were, about the death of Sir Rupert, he could -make things very disagreeable for her. Formerly she would not have -minded, but would have dared him in her old reckless fashion, trusting -to her indomitable will to carry her through safely, but now she had -Kaituna to think of as well as herself, so she determined to leave Mr. -Dombrain alone.</p> - -<p>Ferrari, Maxwell, Dombrain. She could ask none of the three to assist -her, and yet something must be done. The terrible blow of her father's -death had left Kaituna prostrate with grief, and she looked to Mrs. -Belswin for every thing. Yes, the daughter, ignorant of the mother's -personality, depended upon the mother as she would have done had she -known the truth; and Mrs. Belswin, although concealing her real -relationship; acted towards her newly-recovered daughter with the -utmost tenderness.</p> - -<p>Still, what about money?</p> - -<p>There was the stage. She could resume her profession, but that would -entail time to obtain an engagement and constant absence from Kaituna, -who was not fitted in her present upset state of mind to be left -alone. So after going over all kinds of possibilities in her mind, -Mrs. Belswin found herself at her wits' end which way to turn for -assistance.</p> - -<p>Coincidences happen in real life as well as in novels, and it was a -curious thing that Mrs. Belswin should find in a society journal the -name of Silas P. Oates mentioned as staying at the Langham Hotel.</p> - -<p>Silas P. Oates, millionaire. Most extraordinary! He had arrived just -in time, for she could apply to him for money. He was her old lover; -he was the man who had ruined her life; he had deserted her -shamefully; but now he was rich, and had a right to help her. Yes, she -would call on him at once and ask him for assistance. For the sake of -the dead-and-gone days he would not refuse. So with a smile of -satisfaction Mrs. Belswin looked at the paper again.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Silas P. Oates is accompanied by his wife and daughter."</p> - -<p>Oh! he was married then--married and respectable--while she was still -tossing on the stormy waters of the Bohemian ocean. Ah, these men, -these men! they always have the best of it. They love, and ruin, and -forsake a woman, and then settle down into respectable members of -society; while the woman, who has lost all for their sake, is -condemned for the rest of her life to be the sport of one sex and the -scorn of the other.</p> - -<p>Still, now that he was married she would certainly be able to obtain -what she wished, for he would not dare to refuse lest she should speak -to his wife and destroy his happiness.</p> - -<p>It never struck Mrs. Belswin that to act in this way would be -dishonourable. She had been a free-lance for so long, and had been so -accustomed in fighting her way through the world to use all kinds of -weapons, that the means she intended to employ to extort money from -Oates seemed quite legitimate. Many a woman would have died rather -than have applied for help to the man who had basely deserted her; but -Mrs. Belswin, her moral sense blunted by constantly battling with the -stormy world, not only intended to get money from her old lover, but -intended to apply that money to secure the happiness of her innocent -daughter. Here is a text for the preacher on human nature. Does the -end in this instance justify the means? Strange things are done in -this world of ours, but surely nothing more fantastical or shameful -entered a woman's mind than to use her former disgrace as a means to -secure her daughter's ease and peace of mind. And yet Mrs. Belswin -could not see it--did not see it--and made up her mind to call on -Silas P. Oates the next day, and not leave him until she had his -cheque for a considerable amount in her purse.</p> - -<p>To-day, however, Archie was coming in order to tell them about Toby -Clendon's proposed mission to Australia, and Kaituna was seated at the -window watching for his coming, while Mrs. Belswin pondered over the -problem of Silas P. Oates.</p> - -<p>It was a dull little sitting-room, in a dull little house, in a dull -little neighbourhood, but then the aforesaid neighbourhood was -eminently respectable, and that satisfied Mrs. Belswin. In her dread -lest her daughter should be tainted by Bohemianism, Mrs. Belswin had -gone to the opposite extreme, and, with the assistance of Archie, -taken lodgings in a severely respectable quarter, where church bells -rang every other hour of the day, and nothing less genteel than a -four-wheeler was ever seen in the dingy street.</p> - -<p>Their abode was situated in Grail Street, which was so deserted that -it put the reflective in mind of London during the plague, especially -as a hearse was no uncommon sight owing to the undertakers (Wilps & -Co., High Class Pauper Furnishers) being at the corner. All the houses -were sad-looking, in keeping with the corner establishment, and -Kaituna's face was sad also as she looked out on to the lonely road on -which fell the fine rain.</p> - -<p>Dressed in black, with her hands lying listlessly in her lap, and her -face thin and worn with trouble, Kaituna looked a very different girl -in the dingy London lodging from what she had been at Thornstream. -Mrs. Belswin thought so as she glanced at her after answering the -money question, and went across to her with a look of anxiety on her -face.</p> - -<p>"Kaituna, my dearest, do not look so sad," she said, tenderly bending -over the girl. "You make me feel so terribly anxious."</p> - -<p>Kaituna pushed her thick hair wearily off her forehead, and sighed -deeply.</p> - -<p>"I cannot help looking sad," she replied, listlessly; "I feel sad. A -few months ago and I was so happy; now everything is taken away from -me."</p> - -<p>"Not everything, dear. You have still me."</p> - -<p>"You!" echoed Kaituna, with a wan smile, taking the elder woman's -hand. "Ah, Mrs. Belswin, what should I have done without you, my good -angel!"</p> - -<p>"Don't call me a good angel, dear," said Mrs. Belswin, hurriedly. "I -am not good. God help me! had I been good things would have been -different."</p> - -<p>"I don't know what you refer to," replied Kaituna, simply, stroking -the hand she held. "All I know is that you have been good to me. -Without you I should have died. You are my only friend."</p> - -<p>"You forget Archie," said Mrs. Belswin, with an attempt at lightness.</p> - -<p>"No; I don't forget him, good, kind fellow; but, Mrs. Belswin, I -cannot hold him to his promise. I am poor now. It will be unfair for -me to drag him down. I must go away. I cannot stay to be a burden on -you--a burden on him. You must let me go."</p> - -<p>"Where?" asked Mrs. Belswin, quietly.</p> - -<p>"I don't know. I will get the position of governess somewhere. Mrs. -Valpy will recommend me. She knows what I can do."</p> - -<p>"Then you wish to leave me?" said Mrs. Belswin, reproachfully.</p> - -<p>"No, I do not; but how can I ask you to keep me like this? You--a -stranger!"</p> - -<p>"A stranger!" said Mrs. Belswin, with a strange smile. "My dear, you -must not look upon me as a stranger. I told you my story once--about -my little child. Now you stand to me in that child's place. I love you -like a daughter! If you left me I should go mad. Leave me! No, -Kaituna, you must not--you shall not leave me. Promise that you will -always stay beside me!"</p> - -<p>The vehemence of the woman frightened Kaituna, unnerved as she was by -what she had gone through, and she shrank back in alarm.</p> - -<p>"Dear Mrs. Belswin----"</p> - -<p>"Oh!" cried the woman, walking up and down the room with tears -streaming down her face, "for you to go away--to leave me, after all -that I have suffered. You do not know what you say. You call me a -stranger. I am a stranger. Yes! I am Mrs. Belswin, who was your hired -servant. But I love you, Kaituna, like a daughter. You will not leave -me--oh, my child, you will not leave me?"</p> - -<p>She flung herself on her knees beside the girl, and looked up into her -eyes with a fierce intensity of gaze that moved the girl strangely.</p> - -<p>"No, I will not leave you, since you wish me not to," she said gently; -"but indeed, Mrs. Belswin, I don't deserve such love."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin covered the hand she held with kisses, and sobbed -hysterically; then the strange creature suddenly dried her eyes, and -rose to her feet with a smile on her lips. It was the savage nature -all over. One moment all fury, the next calm and smiling. She never -controlled herself in any way, but let her natural moods and fancies -have full play; so the result was bizarre, and rather terrifying to a -more civilised nature. By this time, however, Kaituna, perhaps from a -secret chord of sympathy inherited from her savage progenitors, was -beginning to understand Mrs. Belswin's whirlwinds of passion and -sudden transitions from storm to calm; therefore, when the present -outburst was over, the two women chatted together quite easily, as if -nothing unusual had occurred.</p> - -<p>"But of one thing I am certain," said Kaituna, after a pause; "that it -is not right for me to marry Archie at present. I am poor, so is he, -and I cannot consent to drag him down with me."</p> - -<p>"My dear, you are too fine in your ideas," said Mrs. Belswin, with a -superior smile. "Archie Maxwell loves you, and if you refused to marry -him it would break his heart. Besides, perhaps the Pole Star shares -will be worth a lot of money."</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid not. It's no use building up hopes on those. Ah, my poor -father. He thought to make me an heiress, but he has only made me a -pauper. My poor, poor father. Was he not a noble man, Mrs. Belswin?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, dear; yes! But you forget I only had a short interview with -him."</p> - -<p>"I remember, on the night he died--the night that he was murdered. Oh, -if I could only discover who killed him. But I can do nothing. I am -only a woman, and have no money to employ any one, so he must lie in -his grave unavenged. Oh, who will help me?"</p> - -<p>The answer came in an unexpected manner from the servant opening the -door and announcing--</p> - -<p>"Mr. Maxwell!"</p> - -<p>"Curious!" murmured Mrs. Belswin: "that is the second coincidence -to-day."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_23" href="#div1Ref_23">CHAPTER XXIII.</a></h4> -<h5>BETTER LEAVE WELL ALONE.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-7px"> -"When things to outward view are smooth,<br> -'Tis wisest to disturb them not.<br> -Restrain the prying eye of youth<br> -When things to outward view are smooth;<br> -For should ye seek to learn the truth<br> -Much evil may by chance be wrought.<br> -When things to outward view are smooth,<br> -'Tis wisest to disturb them not."</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>When he entered the room Archie looked very pleased, and a trifle -excited, which happy demeanour was noticed at once by Mrs. Belswin.</p> - -<p>"Good news?" she asked, as he greeted her, and walked over to Kaituna -with the eager step of an expectant lover.</p> - -<p>"Very good news," he replied gaily, "the best of news. Toby is going -out to Australia to look after your fortune, Kaituna."</p> - -<p>"My fortune," echoed Kaituna, faintly, raising her eyes to his bright -face. "I'm afraid my fortune is a myth."</p> - -<p>"Not at all! Not at all!" replied Maxwell, kissing her pale cheek. -"Your fortune at present is not in the clouds, but in the earth; and -when The Pole Star Company find that rich lode they are now looking -for, you will be a female Crœsus."</p> - -<p>"I hope so, for your sake."</p> - -<p>"I hope so, for both your sakes," said Mrs. Belswin, bluntly; "and -then there will be no more talk of breaking off the engagement."</p> - -<p>"What, our engagement?" cried Maxwell, in an astonished tone, looking -from the one to the other. "Why, what do you mean?"</p> - -<p>"Ask Donna Quixota there, my dear Mr. Maxwell. She has been talking -the high-flown nonsense which the virtuous heroine uses on the stage -when she appeals to the gallery. She knows you love her for herself -alone, and that I cannot live without her; yet she talks about leaving -us both on some absurd scruple of honour."</p> - -<p>"My dear Kaituna, you are surely not in earnest," said Archie, -smoothing the girl's dark hair. "Mrs. Belswin is jesting, I suppose?"</p> - -<p>"No! she is repeating my words in a slightly different way."</p> - -<p>"But, Kaituna?"</p> - -<p>"Now you are going to begin a discussion," said Mrs. Belswin, -good-humouredly, "so I will leave you for a time. But first, Mr. -Maxwell, tell me about your friend. You say he is going out to -Melbourne?"</p> - -<p>"Yes! I got a letter from him to-day. Miss Valpy and his father are -both agreeable, and he starts by one of the Orient line in a -fortnight."</p> - -<p>"But the money?" said Mrs. Belswin, in some dismay, thinking of her -straightened means. "What about the money?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, that is all right," answered Maxwell in a satisfied tone. -"Providence has tempered the financial wind to the Clendon lamb. He is -going to write a series of articles on Australian cities for <i>The -Weekly Scorpion</i>, so the benevolent editor of that paper pays his -expenses."</p> - -<p>"Oh!" said Mrs. Belswin, with a sigh of relief, turning towards the -door, "I'm so glad. It's a good omen for the silver mine. I hope he'll -come back as prosperous as he leaves. Now I'm going away for a few -minutes, so I'll leave you, Mr. Maxwell, to convince Kaituna that -things will turn out better than she expects."</p> - -<p>When Mrs. Belswin vanished, Archie took Kaituna by the chin, and -turned her face towards his own.</p> - -<p>"You wicked young woman," he said, laughing; "how can you speak, even -in jest, about leaving me?"</p> - -<p>Kaituna rose to her feet, and walked backwards and forwards several -times in deep thought. Then she paused before Archie, and looked -steadily at him with her clear, honest eyes.</p> - -<p>"Archie," she said, at length, "believe me, I did not speak without -reason. While my father was alive there was a chance of our marrying, -for I would have persuaded him to consent some time, and Mrs. Belswin -would have helped me. But he is dead, and I have not a penny in the -world. How then can I marry you, who have nothing but your profession -to depend upon, and that profession one which means constant -travelling? If you married me you would have to leave me, for we -should not be rich enough to travel together. You would find me a drag -upon you. Enough for one is not enough for two. I love you! You know I -love you! And it is for that very reason that I want to break off our -engagement, and not be a burden to you in the future."</p> - -<p>Maxwell laughed, as she ended this long speech, and seizing her hands -drew her towards him.</p> - -<p>"What a capital lawyer you would make," he said, with an indulgent -smile; "but let us look on the other side of the question. Say that -these shares turn out to be worth a lot of money, will you expect me -to give you up?"</p> - -<p>"No, no! Oh, no!"</p> - -<p>"Ah! you see then that the case is the same with me. You love me for -myself. I love you for yourself. It is no question of money between -us. With you as my wife, I would work hard. I shall only be too proud -to work for you. We shall not be rich; but we should be happy. No, my -dearest, I should indeed be unworthy of your love did I look at the -future from your point of view. I love you! You are mine; and rich or -poor, we will always be together."</p> - -<p>"But----"</p> - -<p>"But me no buts," said Maxwell, in a peremptory tone, putting his arm -round her neck. "You know what I say is right. You love me, do you -not?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"And you will never leave me?"</p> - -<p>Kaituna kissed him, with tears in her eyes.</p> - -<p>"No; I will never leave you."</p> - -<p>Archie pressed her to his heart with a cry of joy, and at this moment -Mrs. Belswin entered.</p> - -<p>"Well, young people?"</p> - -<p>"I have explained away all objections," said Maxwell, as Kaituna -withdrew her arms from his neck, "and we are going to marry on nothing -a year."</p> - -<p>"Meanwhile," said Mrs. Belswin, satirically.</p> - -<p>"Meanwhile," echoed Maxwell, rising, "I am going to speak to you for a -few minutes, and then take Kaituna for a walk in the Park. You'll take -compassion on a lonely bachelor, will you not, dearest?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. I'll go and put on my things at once," said Kaituna, whose face -now looked much brighter than before.</p> - -<p>"Archie."</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"I am afraid you'll be a dreadful tyrant when I marry you."</p> - -<p>She laughed, and ran out of the room, whereat Maxwell also laughed out -of sympathy; but when the door closed the laugh died away on his lips, -and he turned gravely to Mrs. Belswin, who had resumed her seat.</p> - -<p>"Well," said that lady, with a half smile, glancing at him; "you look -as gloomy as a November day. What are you thinking about?"</p> - -<p>"Sir Rupert's death."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin half expected this reply; but, notwithstanding, gave a -sudden start at the abruptness of his speech.</p> - -<p>"You are still determined to find out the cause of his death?" she -said, slowly.</p> - -<p>"I don't think there is any question on that point," he replied, with -emphasis. "He was shot, and I want to find out who shot him."</p> - -<p>"What good will that do?"</p> - -<p>"It will set Kaituna's mind at rest."</p> - -<p>His listener played with the plain gold ring on her finger--the ring -which had been the symbol of her marriage with the murdered man--and -frowned.</p> - -<p>"If I were you, I'd let sleeping dogs lie," she said, at length, -without raising her eyes.</p> - -<p>"No! I will not! See here, Mrs. Belswin, I know quite well that -Kaituna is anxious to find out the murderer of her father. If she does -not it will embitter her whole life. She cannot bear to think of him -lying unavenged in his grave. Herself, she can do nothing, but I, her -promised husband, can."</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid you over-calculate your powers as a detective."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps I do," he answered, calmly; "but I'm going to try, at all -events, and see if I can unravel this mystery. Did I intend to let -sleeping dogs lie, as you phrase it, I would have gone out to -Australia myself to look after the silver mines, but as Clendon has -taken that trouble off my hands I am going to devote myself to finding -out the man who murdered Sir Rupert."</p> - -<p>He spoke with such determination that she felt convinced he would -carry out his intention, and fidgeted about in her seat for a few -moments, then, walking to the window, stood looking out into the dull -street, while she made her next remark.</p> - -<p>"I don't think it will do any good. Where the police have failed you -cannot hope to succeed."</p> - -<p>"I hope to do so, with your help."</p> - -<p>"My help?" she echoed, facing round suddenly so that her back was to -the light and her face comparatively in the shadow. "What can I tell -you?"</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Belswin," said Maxwell, gravely, "you were one of the last -people who saw Sir Rupert alive."</p> - -<p>"Yes, that is so," she answered without moving a muscle, "but I told -all I knew at the inquest."</p> - -<p>"I suppose you did; but can you think of nothing else?"</p> - -<p>She looked at him with a piercing glance, as if trying to read his -soul, but saw nothing that could make her think that he suspected her -in any way of being connected with the murdered man.</p> - -<p>"I told all I knew at the inquest," she repeated. "I had an interview -with Sir Rupert about your marriage with Kaituna. He refused his -consent, and I left the study. Kaituna had gone to bed with a bad -headache, so I did not wish to make it worse by my ill news. Therefore -I retired to rest at once, and knew nothing more until the next -morning."</p> - -<p>"You heard no pistol shot?"</p> - -<p>"None."</p> - -<p>"Strange!" said Maxwell, thoughtfully: "no one seems to have heard a -pistol shot, and yet such an unusual thing must have attracted -attention."</p> - -<p>"You forget that Sir Rupert's study was some distance away from the -sleeping apartments, and I think at the time he was killed every one -was in bed."</p> - -<p>"But he was not shot in the room, but from the terrace."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin started again,</p> - -<p>"How do you know that?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know it, I only presume so. The body was found lying half in -and half out of the window; so my theory is that Sir Rupert came to -the open window for a breath of air, and the assassin, concealed in -the shadow of the terrace, shot him through the head."</p> - -<p>"It's a very excellent theory--still, it is only theory."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I know that," said Maxwell, ruefully. "You don't know if Sir -Rupert had any enemies, Mrs. Belswin?"</p> - -<p>"I! Why I did not even know Sir Rupert himself until I spoke to him -that night in his study."</p> - -<p>There was no doubt that Mrs. Belswin was a magnificent actress, for -she uttered this lie without the least hesitation.</p> - -<p>"No, of course not," answered Maxwell, after a pause. "I know he was a -stranger to you. Still he must have had enemies. I wonder if Kaituna -could tell me."</p> - -<p>"Ask her!"</p> - -<p>"No, I won't. It will only upset her. She is so agitated over the -whole affair. I'll go and see the detective who had the case in hand, -and I won't tell Kaituna anything until I can say, 'This is the -murderer of your father.'"</p> - -<p>"It's a wild-goose chase."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps. Still something may be discovered."</p> - -<p>At this moment Kaituna returned, dressed for walking, and after -bidding fare well to Mrs. Belswin, Archie went out with his -sweetheart, leaving the chaperon still standing by the window.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin twisted her hands together, and looked at the carpet with -an angry frown.</p> - -<p>"Something maybe discovered," she repeated in a thoughtful tone. "I -don't think so. The assassin came out of the night, fulfilled his -mission, and disappeared again into the night. Not all the machinery -of the law could find out the truth, and where the law failed I don't -think you'll succeed, Archibald Maxwell."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_24" href="#div1Ref_24">CHAPTER XXIV.</a></h4> -<h5>A MEMORY OF THE PAST.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<h5>I.</h5> -<br> -<p class="t0" style="text-indent:-7px; font-size:smaller"> -"The present becomes the future.<br> -Yes! but the present does not again become the past;<br> -Time goes forward forever--we cannot return on his footsteps,<br> -For the laws of the universe are unalterable, unchangeable and -fixed.</p> -<br> -<h5>II.</h5> -<p class="t0" style="text-indent:-7px; font-size:smaller"> -"Yet when I see you before me,<br> -I am inclined to doubt all that has existed since the shaping of<br> - the earth from chaos.<br> -For you appear as you did in those far-distant days,<br> -When love and sin made up the sum of our lives.</p> -<br> -<h5>III.</h5> -<p class="t0" style="text-indent:-7px; font-size:smaller"> -"Phantom!<br> -Vanish again into the darkness from whence my memory hath<br> - called thee!<br> -As a God I have re-created thee--as a God I condemn thee to<br> - disappear.<br> -I live the present, the future--but the past I will not renew.<br> -Lest such phantoms as you should turn the past into the present."</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>In a private sitting-room of the Langham Hotel sat Mr. Silas P. Oates, -of New York City, millionaire, who had come to England with his wife -and daughter to spend his money, secure a titled husband for his only -child, and look round generally.</p> - -<p>He had made his money in a somewhat unexpected way by sundry dealings -in stocks and shares, besides which he had bought a clever invention -cheaply of the inventor--a poor man--and by dint of dexterous -advertising and persistent pushing had boomed it into a big success. A -far-seeing man was Mr. Oates, none too scrupulous, who regarded his -fellow-men as so many sheep to be shorn of their rich fleece; but he -always kept to the letter if not the spirit of the law, and therefore -regarded himself as a keen business man, who had made his enormous -fortune honestly. All his little knavish tricks, his taking advantage -of his fellow-creatures when they were in difficulties, and his -unscrupulous, unblushing lying, he designated under the collective -name of business; and however scandalous his dealings might appear to -God, they certainly appeared legitimate to his brother business men, -who mostly acted the same way.</p> - -<p>Therefore Silas was called "a sharp business man." All his twistings -and turnings and chicanery and sailing close to the wind went to pile -up the dollars; and however he might have ruined less clever men than -himself, however he imposed, gulled, and swindled the public, he was -generally admitted in the Land of Freedom to be a 'cute man, who was a -worthy representative of the great god Mammon. Charity, according to -the Bible, covers a multitude of sins, but money occupies a much -higher place nowadays in the covering process, and all the doubtful -ways by which he had acquired his fortune disappeared in the eyes of -the condoning world under the golden cover of the fortune itself.</p> - -<p>This worthy product of the nineteenth century was a short, thin, -active little man, with a parchment-coloured skin, dark hair, -moustache, beard, eyebrows, and eyes, and a quick, delicate -restlessness about him, like a bright-eyed bird. He was dressed neatly -in a quiet gray suit, wore no jewellery, not even a watch-chain, and -was always on the alert to see something to his advantage. Outwardly, -he was a quiet, respectable, decent little fellow, who, as the saying -goes, would not harm a fly; inwardly, he was an astute blackguard, who -called his evil doing "business," who always kept well within the law, -and had dethroned the Deity in favour of himself. His past was bad and -tricky, so much so that it would hardly bear looking into by a man -with a conscience; but even though Mr. Oates had no conscience, he did -not indulge much in retrospection: not that he dreaded remorse, but -simply looked upon such dreaming as a waste of time.</p> - -<p>At present he was perfectly happy. He had made a lot of money, he had -a pretty wife for whom he cared nothing, a charming daughter for whom -he cared a great deal, and was now going to show the Old World what -the New World could do in the way of making a splash. It was a very -enviable frame of mind to be in, and one quite beyond the reach of an -honest man, who would have been disturbed at the memory of how he had -made his money. But Silas only thought how pleasant it was he had made -so much money, for the making of which he had to thank no one--not -even God, who, in His inexplicable mercy permitted this gilded worm to -reap the golden reward of a life of legitimate legalised rascality.</p> - -<p>Mr. Oates, therefore, was happy, and thought no one could upset that -happiness in any way; but he found out his mistake when the waiter -brought in a card inscribed, "Mrs. Belswin."</p> - -<p>"Well, sir," drawled Silas, looking doubtfully at the card, "this lady -wants to look me up?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir."</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Belswin!" soliloquised the American in deep thought. "I can't -fix her nohow. Ask the lady to step this way."</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir."</p> - -<p>The alert, active waiter disappeared, and Mr. Oates pondered. He did -not know the name; he had only arrived in England the previous day, -and was unacquainted with any one. What then did this strange lady -want with him? Luckily, Mrs. Hatty K. Oates had gone out shopping with -her daughter, else the situation might have been awkward for Silas, -whose domestic hearthstone was not quite free from connubial rows -caused by jealousy. His wife, however, was away, and would not be home -for the next few hours, so Mr. Oates, feeling rather curious as to the -business of his fair visitor, was by no means sorry that he had a -chance of passing his afternoon in feminine society.</p> - -<p>His visitor entered the room heralded by the waiter; then the latter -retired, closing the door carefully after him, leaving the pair alone. -The lady was dressed in black, and wore a heavy crape veil, which -suggested mourning to the astute Silas; and after he had gathered as -much as he was able from a keen glance at this draped veiled figure, -he politely placed a chair for her.</p> - -<p>"You wish to see me, madam?" he asked, resuming his own seat.</p> - -<p>"I do, for a few minutes. I am an old friend of yours."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin's voice was muffled by the veil, and moreover Silas had -not heard it for nearly twenty years, so he did not recognise his -visitor in the least, and was considerably puzzled by the concluding -part of her speech.</p> - -<p>"An old friend!" he said doubtfully, smoothing his chin. "From the -States?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; down 'Frisco way."</p> - -<p>"Oh!"</p> - -<p>Mr. Oates started. He had many acquaintances down 'Frisco way, but -they could hardly be called friends, as they very much disapproved of -his method of doing business.</p> - -<p>"I've got an eye for faces," said Silas, in a jaunty manner, "so if -you put up that veil I've no doubt I can fix you."</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid I shall startle you."</p> - -<p>"I'm not easily startled, madam. My nerves are in good working order."</p> - -<p>"Are they? Then I'll put them to the test."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin suddenly threw back her veil and bent forward so that her -face was in the strong light, whereupon Silas gave a whoop like a wild -Indian, bounded from his chair and gasped.</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid you over-estimate the working order of your nerves, -Silas," said Mrs. Belswin, scoffingly; and then leaning back in her -chair, waited for Mr. Oates to make the next move in the game.</p> - -<p>"Great Scott! It's Mrs. Pethram. I thought you were dead!"</p> - -<p>"And wished it too, I've no doubt," said Mrs. Belswin, bitterly. -"Well, are you not glad to see me?"</p> - -<p>"No!" replied Silas, truthfully; "I'm uncommon sorry."</p> - -<p>"Ah! you've learned to speak the truth since I saw you last," observed -the lady, raising her eyebrows, "otherwise you're not much changed. -The same ugly little monkey with whom I ran away from New Zealand. -I've often wondered why I did run away with you," pursued Mrs. Belswin -with charming candour, "and now I see you again I wonder more than -ever."</p> - -<p>Silas grinned in an uneasy manner. He would have preferred her to be -less cool, to pay more deference to his position, but she seemed as -candid as ever, and he almost expected to have something damaging -flung at his head, as had been her custom in the old days. It was a -very disagreeable position, so Silas rose to the occasion, and -immediately set to work to emulate her coolness, and find out how he -could circumvent this unwelcome visitor from the past.</p> - -<p>"I see you're still in the vinegar line," he said easily, resuming his -seat. "I guess you did turn me over for a bit. It takes a pretty stiff -dose to do that, but this time you've raised Cain proper."</p> - -<p>They were delightfully amiable to one another, the more so as a -feeling of distrust pervaded the whole conversation; but as Mrs. -Belswin wanted to waste no time, in case the wife of her former lover -should turn up, she opened fire at once--</p> - -<p>"I dare say you're surprised to see me."</p> - -<p>"It's no good beating round the bush. I'm surprised and sorry."</p> - -<p>"You'll be sorrier before I've done with you."</p> - -<p>"Hello! What are y' going to show your teeth about?"</p> - -<p>"Nothing, if you'll do what I ask."</p> - -<p>"See here, Mrs. Pethram," said Silas, leaning forward with his shrewd, -sharp, foxy face, "it's no good your tryin' to play low on me. I've -cut my eye teeth, I can tell you. You think you've got the whip hand -of me. That's as I take it. Well, you can drop that dodge. I ran off -with you to 'Frisco 'cause I was a born fool. I did love you, only you -were more like a redskin than a civilised woman. We agreed to part -company twenty years ago, and I've kept my part of the contract. I've -gone right along in the money line, and this time I've come home on -the winner. I'm married and straight now, and I don't want no one to -put things wrong between my wife and me. As you're an old friend I'll -act square by you if it's money, but if it's blackmail your looking -you'd better believe it."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin was in all things a headstrong, impulsive woman, without -any craft or power to disguise her feelings. She had come to Oates -with the fullest intention of threatening to tell his wife their -former relations if he refused to give her money; but here was her -adversary calmly placing the whole of her nefarious scheme before her, -and she felt completely nonplussed. Oates, on the other hand, was so -accustomed to trickery that Mrs. Belswin was a mere child in his -hands, and the course he was now adopting was certainly the only means -by which he could hope to checkmate her.</p> - -<p>"Well, madam!" said Silas, seeing his plain speaking -had taken Mrs. Belswin aback, "what do you say?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin acted like a fool, lost her temper and stormed.</p> - -<p>"You despicable little wretch," she said, starting to her feet, with -her eyes blazing with anger, "how dare you speak to me like this? Was -it not for your sake that I lost my husband, my good name, my position -in the world? And yet you dare to taunt me with it. You are now rich, -married, and respectable. I, on the other hand, am poor--yes, poor, -otherwise my life for these last twenty years has been above reproach. -Oh, you may laugh! You judge me by yourself, but I tell you since I -left you I have led a decent life. The reason I refuse to tell you. -Now hear what I have to say. I would not have come to you unless it -was a case of dire necessity, I hate you too much to have ever desired -to set eyes on you again, but I was compelled to come, because I want -money. Give me a cheque for £500 and I won't trouble you again. -Refuse, and I'll tell your wife all."</p> - -<p>"Will you, indeed?" sneered Silas, mockingly. "Don't try the -black-mailing game, for you won't bounce a cent out of me. That's so, -Mrs. Pethram. My wife knows all about you. I told her all when I was -married."</p> - -<p>"That's a lie," said Mrs. Belswin, fiercely. "I don't believe it."</p> - -<p>"I reckon it's true, though."</p> - -<p>"I won't take your word for it, so I'll ask your wife."</p> - -<p>"She'll be here at three-forty. You can wait."</p> - -<p>It was all bravado on the part of Oates, as he was in deadly fear lest -his wife should come in and learn all. True this discreditable -connection had taken place before his marriage: but Mrs. Oates would -not take that fact into consideration, and would make things very -unpleasant for him. With all his cleverness and craft, Silas was a -coward at heart; so as Mrs. Belswin sat there, evidently determined to -await the arrival of his wife, he skirmished round, in order to find -out some weak spot in her armour by which he could beat her. Had he -betrayed fear, Mrs. Belswin would have at once perceived that she had -the advantage; but he did nothing but sit smiling before her, and all -she could do in her mad rage was to tell all to Mrs. Oates, thereby -cutting her own throat, and benefiting nothing by revelation.</p> - -<p>"Say," queried Mr. Oates, airily, "why don't you look up Pethram?"</p> - -<p>"He is dead.'</p> - -<p>"Is that so?" said Oates, somewhat startled. "Died in New Zealand, I -guess?"</p> - -<p>"No, he didn't. He died in England."</p> - -<p>"What did you kill him for?"</p> - -<p>It was simply an idle, malicious question, as Silas never for a moment -dreamed that the husband and wife had met, or that there had been -anything strange about the husband's death. Foolish Mrs. Belswin, -never thinking, flashed out at once, on the impulse of the moment, -quite forgetting that she was putting a sword into her enemy's hand.</p> - -<p>"I didn't kill him. How dare you say so? No one knows who murdered -him."</p> - -<p>Silas jumped up from his seat with an exclamation of surprise, as his -apparently idle question had evidently drawn forth something -important.</p> - -<p>"Oh, he was murdered, then?"</p> - -<p>"Didn't you know," said Mrs. Belswin, haughtily, "when you spoke to me -like that?"</p> - -<p>"I know nothing," returned Silas, coolly. "I only spoke because I know -if you had met Pethram in one of your fiendish tempers you would have -put a knife in him."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin saw that she had raised a suspicion in the mind of Silas, -so was now careful as to what she said.</p> - -<p>"You're talking at random. Pethram is dead, and some one shot him; I -don't know who. You can see all about it in the papers."</p> - -<p>Silas made no answer, as he was thinking. Owing to Mrs. Belswin's -unsuspicious nature he had learned a very important fact, which might -possibly lead to his circumventing her demands for money. So he made -up his mind at once how to act, and acted.</p> - -<p>"See here," he said, good-humouredly, pulling out his cheque-book; -"I'll do what I can for you. Tell my wife or not, if you like; but -now, if five hundred dollars are of any use, I'll give you that lot -straight off."</p> - -<p>"Five hundred dollars," said Mrs. Belswin, coolly--"one hundred -pounds. Well, that will do in the meantime; but I'm to have the rest -next week, or I'll make things hot for you, Silas."</p> - -<p>The American had his own opinion on the subject, but, with his -habitual craft, said nothing. Filling up the cheque, he gave it to -Mrs. Belswin, who took it without a word of thanks, and put it in her -purse.</p> - -<p>"I've made it payable to Mrs. Belswin," said Oates. "That's your last -name, I guess?"</p> - -<p>"It has been my name ever since I left you in 'Frisco," retorted Mrs. -Belswin, fiercely. "You need not insinuate that I have been leading a -bad life. I've no doubt my past would bear more looking into than -yours."</p> - -<p>"You've the same old style, I see," said Silas, insolently, "all -gunpowder and dynamite. Well, I guess that now you've got what you -came for you'll get."</p> - -<p>"As you elegantly phrase it, I'll get," rejoined the lady, letting -down her veil. "But let me hear from you next week about the rest of -the money, or I'll come and interview your wife."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I'll write you straight," answered Silas, with a peculiar smile, -as he accompanied her to the door. "Good-bye, Mrs. Pethram--beg -pardon, Mrs. Belswin."</p> - -<p>"Neither correct, sir," said his visitor, jeeringly. "My Lady -Pethram."</p> - -<p>Silas closed the door after her, with a smile which faded from his -face when he found himself alone.</p> - -<p>"Lady Pethram!" he echoed thoughtfully "I reckon then that Pethram got -his handle. Well, now I'd better look after that murder case, and then -I'll fix that she-devil right along the line."</p> - -<p>Having thus made up his mind, he sent for a file of the <i>Daily -Telegraph</i> of the previous month, and went steadily to work to read up -the Thornstream case, which he had no difficulty in finding. He also -discovered the address of a private inquiry office, and at once wrote -a letter instructing them to send him a detective. This business being -concluded, he lighted a cigar, rubbed his dry, lean hands together and -chuckled.</p> - -<p>"Two can always play at a game, my lady," he muttered; "but this time -I guess you'll stand out."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_25" href="#div1Ref_25">CHAPTER XXV.</a></h4> -<h5>SILAS PLAYS HIS LITTLE GAME.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-7px"> -"'Tis very hard to play the game of life;<br> -For tho' you keep your eye upon the board,<br> -And move your puppets in well-thought-out ways,<br> -Just when the winning seems within your grasp,<br> -Some pawn is touched by stealthy-fingered Chance,<br> -And straight the would-be victor looses all."</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>In his dingy office sat Mr. Dombrain before his desk, in deep thought; -and judging from the frown on his coarse face, his thoughts were not -of the pleasantest. He bit his hard nails, he pulled at his stubbly -red moustache, drummed on the table with his large hairy hands, and in -fact displayed all the symptoms of a man very much disturbed in his -mind. The cause of this disturbance was Mrs. Belswin, and, seeing that -he was alone, Mr. Dombrain for the moment threw off his professional -suavity and cursed the lady heartily. Had she been present, she would -have laughed at his outburst of wrath; but as she had just left the -room, he was free to make as rude remarks as he pleased, and he -certainly took full advantage of his solitude. The wrath of Mrs. -Belswin and the subsequent flattening out of Mr. Dombrain arose out of -the following circumstance.</p> - -<p>The lawyer, seeing that Kaituna had been left penniless, except for -certain shares, which he truly assured her were not worth the paper -they were written on, had, in a spirit of philanthropy, offered to buy -those shares off her at his own price--which was a very small one--so -that Miss Pethram would have something to live on. He wrote a -letter--a generous and noble letter, from his point of view--in which -he offered to take these undesirable shares in the Pole Star Mining -Company off her hands at a great sacrifice to himself, and Mrs. -Belswin had answered the letter on behalf of Kaituna in person. As she -was a lady who never minced matters, however unpleasant, and moreover -never exercised any self-control, Mr. Dombrain had rather a bad time -of it for a quarter of an hour. He had seen that phrase in a French -novel, but had never thoroughly understood its significance until Mrs. -Belswin illustrated it to him in her own graphic manner. She said--oh, -he hardly remembered what she said, except that she used the word -"swindler" pretty often, and made several pointed allusions to the -disgrace of an ex-convict exercising an honourable profession in -London.</p> - -<p>Mr. Dombrain could have said something rather disagreeable to her, -which would certainly have shut her up, but this modern Xantippe gave -him no opportunity of saying a word. She came, she saw, she raged, -stormed, crushed, conquered, and finally departed in a whirlwind of -passion, telling him that Clendon was going to look after the shares -in Melbourne, and that if he dared to try any tricks on her she -would--she would---- Mr. Dombrain shivered when he thought of what she -said she would do.</p> - -<p>Now, however, that she was out of the room, and he had collected his -thoughts, scattered by her terrific onslaught, he began to think, and -after several minutes of thinking and frowning, he grinned. Not a -pleasant grin by any manner of means--a nasty Mephistophelean grin -that boded ill to his adversary. She had been unpleasant to him; well, -he could now be unpleasant to her, and in a way she wouldn't like. He -constructed a little scheme in his head which he thought would answer -his purpose, and was about to make a few notes relative to the same, -when a card was brought in to him.</p> - -<p>"Silas P. Oates."</p> - -<p>Mr. Dombrain shivered, and had the clerk not been present he would -have sworn. As it was, however, he merely told the clerk to show the -gentleman in, and then trembled at the thought of this second phantom -of the past which had succeeded to Mrs. Belswin. She knew about his -little mistake in New Zealand, so also did Mr. Oates; and Mr. Dombrain -groaned in dismay as he thought of the double chance of exposure now -threatening him. Did the American come as a friend, as an enemy, or in -ignorance? Dombrain hoped the first, dreaded the second, but felt -pretty confident that the third was the American's state of mind, as -he certainly would never connect Dombrain the solicitor with Damberton -the convict. However, it would be decided in another minute, so Mr. -Dombrain smoothed his hair, imposed a nervous grin on his mouth, and -waited the advent of this second bogie with inward fear but outward -calm.</p> - -<p>The millionaire entered, quite unaware of the second shock which -awaited him; for his purpose in seeking out Mr. Dombrain was wholly -unconnected with the idea that he would find an old friend. The fact -is, Mr. Oates had read the Thornstream case, had noticed that Mrs. -Belswin was mixed up with it, and had sought out Mr. Dombrain--whose -name was also in the papers--with the idea of finding out the precise -position held by Mrs. Belswin in the house of her former husband. Sir -Rupert's solicitor could tell him this if it was drawn from him -artfully. Mr. Dombrain was Sir Rupert's solicitor, so to Mr. Dombrain -came the wary Silas, wholly ignorant of what awaited him.</p> - -<p>Silas did not notice Dombrain particularly at first, but sat down in -the chair beside the table and cast about for some good idea wherewith -to begin an extremely awkward conversation. Dombrain saw that he was -not recognised, so kept his face in the shadow as much as possible, -and spoke in a low, gruff voice, as if his throat was stuffed with -cotton wool.</p> - -<p>"I have called, sir," observed Mr. Oates, after a preliminary cough, -"to speak to you about the late Sir Rupert Pethram."</p> - -<p>"Yes?"</p> - -<p>"You, sir, I understand, were his lawyer. Is that so?"</p> - -<p>"That is so," replied Dombrain, unconsciously dropping into the -Americanisms of the speaker.</p> - -<p>"A friend of mine, sir," pursued Mr. Oates, after another pause, "was -connected, I believe, with the deceased. I allude, sir, to Mrs. -Belswin."</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Belswin!"</p> - -<p>The name so startled Dombrain, that he forgot his intention of keeping -his identity concealed from his visitor, and speaking in his natural -voice started forward so that his face was clearly seen by Silas. Now -Mr. Oates, in addition, to his many other gifts for getting the better -of his fellow creatures, possessed a remarkably retentive memory in -the matter of faces, and in spite of the alteration Mr. Dombrain had -made in his appearance, recognised him at once. This time his nerves -did not belie the reputation he gave them, and after a slight start he -leaned back in his chair with a slight, dry smile.</p> - -<p>"I opinionate," remarked Silas, reflectively, "that I've been on your -tracks before."</p> - -<p>"No!"</p> - -<p>"It was," continued Silas, without taking any notice of the denial, -"it was in New Zealand, sir. Dunedin was the city. A healthy gaol, -sir, according to the guide books."</p> - -<p>"I don't know what you're talking about," said Dombrain, doggedly, -resuming his seat. "I never saw you before, and I'm a stranger to -you."</p> - -<p>"Dombrain is a stranger, I confess," said Silas, fixing his clear eyes -on the sullen face of the man before him, "but I can size up the party -called Damberton without much trouble. I reckon I can tell you a story -about him, Mr. Dombrain, if you want particulars."</p> - -<p>"No, no!" said Dombrain hoarsely, wiping his forehead; "it's no use -beating about the bush. I am Damberton, but now I'm quite respectable. -You surely are not going to----"</p> - -<p>"I'm goin' to do nothin', sir. You ain't upsettin' my apple-cart. No, -sir. That's a fact, anyhow."</p> - -<p>"Then what do you want me to do for you?" asked Dombrain, with a sigh -of relief.</p> - -<p>"Well, now," replied Silas, thoughtfully, "that's just what I've got -to find out. Mrs. Belswin--hey! Do you know who Mrs. Belswin is?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, the she-devil! Pethram's wife. She was here half an hour ago."</p> - -<p>"Is that so? I say, you ain't playin' in the same yard, I guess. Not -much, when you call her names."</p> - -<p>"I hate her!" said Dombrain, fiercely; "she is the curse of my life."</p> - -<p>"I reckon she's been raisin' Cain here," observed Silas, shrewdly. -"Well, that ain't any of my business, but she's been tryin' the same -game on with me. Now I'm a quiet man, sir, and I don't want no -catamount spittin' round my front door, so I want you to put the set -on that lady."</p> - -<p>"What can I do?"</p> - -<p>"I've been readin' your noospapers, sir. They can't scream like the -American eagle. Not much! But I read all about that shootin' case, and -I see you were waltzin' round! hey! Mrs. Pethram wasn't far off -neither, I guess."</p> - -<p>"No; she was companion to Miss Pethram."</p> - -<p>"Well, you do surprise me, sir. I s'pose her daughter didn't rise to -the fact that Mrs. Belswin was her mamma."</p> - -<p>"No; she knew nothing. Mrs. Belswin obtained the situation while Sir -Rupert Pethram was absent. When he returned she had an interview with -him, and----"</p> - -<p>"And he passed in his cheques," concluded Silas, musingly. "Queer -thing that, anyhow."</p> - -<p>"You don't think," began Dombrain hastily, when Silas interrupted him -promptly.</p> - -<p>"I don't think at all," he said, rising and putting on his hat. "I -don't want to think. Compoundin' a felony isn't in my line nohow."</p> - -<p>"But surely, sir----"</p> - -<p>Oates, who had turned away, faced round suddenly, with a sharp look in -his foxy face which made Dombrain feel somewhat ill at ease.</p> - -<p>"See here, Mister," he said slowly. "Mrs. Belswin's been round at my -hotel tryin' to get dollars. I gave her five hundred, and now this -bank's shut. She gets no more, I guess, this fall, because you'll tell -her she's not to come gavortin' round my claim no more."</p> - -<p>"But I can't stop her."</p> - -<p>"No?" said Silas, interrogatively, "I guess you can. See here, Mr. -Damberton, I know what you are--none better, and that's straight. You -know what Mrs. Belswin is, and if she plays low on you, sir, just ask -her where she got the little gun to fix up things with her husband."</p> - -<p>"But she didn't kill him."</p> - -<p>Silas laughed disbelievingly.</p> - -<p>"I don't know nothin' of that game, sir. It's a cut beyond me, and -that's a fact. All I say is, that if Mrs. Belswin comes on the -war-path to my ranch, I'll tell some things about Mr. Damberton that -Mr. Dombrain won't smile at. You take me, sir, I fancy."</p> - -<p>"Yes!" said Dombrain, slowly, while the great drops of sweat gathered -on his forehead, "I understand."</p> - -<p>"Bully for you," replied Mr. Oates, in a friendly tone, going to the -door. "Good-mornin', sir. I'm pleased to see you again. It's like the -old days, and that's a fact."</p> - -<p>Mr. Oates sauntered out with his hands in his pockets and Dombrain -flung himself in his chair, and, burying his face in his hands, sobbed -like a child.</p> - -<p>"My God," he sobbed passionately, "am I to lose all after these -years?"</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_26" href="#div1Ref_26">CHAPTER XXVI.</a></h4> -<h5>VAE VICTIS.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-7px"> -"Those who went forth in brave array<br> -Return again at the close of day,<br> -With tattered banners that flaunted gay,<br> -And swords now broken that once could slay;</p> -<p class="t3">Their march is sad and slow.</p> -<br> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-7px">"Oh, sorrow for those who could not die,<br> -Who, lion-hearted, were forced to fly,<br> -And now for ever in chains must lie;<br> -For hark, there rises the terrible cry--<br> -'Woe to the vanquished, woe.'"</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>When Mrs. Belswin received a letter from Mr. Dombrain asking her to -call, she was considerably astonished, as she had thought her last -interview with him would have pretty well resigned him to the loss of -her society. But evidently he was now throwing down the gage of -battle, so Mrs. Belswin, like an old war-horse at the sound of a -trumpet, felt a certain exultation at the thought of the coming fight, -and lost no time in assenting to the request of the solicitor.</p> - -<p>What he wanted to see her about she could not imagine, unless it was -to make another offer for the Pole Star shares, and as she had already -set his mind at rest on that point, it seemed ridiculous to think that -he would waste his time in trying to encompass the impossible. She was -now quite at ease in her own mind regarding money matters, as the -hundred pounds she had obtained from Silas, together with what she -already had in the bank, would enable her and Kaituna to live in -comfort for the next three or four months in an economical way. Of -course, she quite expected to be in possession of the other four -hundred the next week, which would place them in affluence until the -report of Toby came home about the Pole Star shares, and judging from -the offer made by Dombrain, Mrs. Belswin, with feminine acuteness, -guessed that the shares were more valuable than they now appeared to -be, so that their sale in a few months would realise a decent sum for -Kaituna. If this turned out to be the case, Mrs. Belswin intended to -persuade Kaituna to marry Archie at once, and the future of her child -being thus secured, she cared little for herself. She could certainly -marry herself, as both Ferrari and Belk were devoted to her, but she -despised the first for his cowardice in the matter of removing her -husband, and the latter, in spite of his good looks, was of too lowly -a station for her to think seriously of in any way.</p> - -<p>Since her departure from Thornstream, Belk had written to her several -times--ardent, passionate letters, which showed plainly how deeply in -love he was with her; and Mrs. Belswin could not but feel a thrill of -pride at the thought of her own attractions, even at the mature age of -forty-five. At present, however, she had more important things to -think of than marriage, and drove along to Dombrain's office in a -puzzled state of mind, trying to think of the reason why he wanted to -see her, so that she could be prepared to hold her own.</p> - -<p>That Silas had stolen a march on her she never for a moment dreamed; -and had she guessed the real object of the interview sought by Mr. -Dombrain, she would doubtless have felt somewhat ill at ease. As it -was, however, she knew nothing; and thus, ignorance being bliss, she -walked boldly into the dingy office, and took her accustomed seat with -her usual defiant air.</p> - -<p>Dombrain himself was rather nervous, although he now assumed a -bullying manner towards the woman he was afraid of. She had held a -power over him which had hitherto precluded him from talking to her as -he would have wished; but now he had discovered something about her -life which gave him the advantage, and he determined to use his power -to insult, sneer, and crush her; in fact, treat her in the same way as -she had hitherto treated him.</p> - -<p>In spite of her violent temper, her foolish impulses, Mrs. Belswin was -not without a certain amount of feminine cunning; and, as she was -quite in the dark concerning the object of the interview, and, -moreover, did not like the ill-concealed look of triumph on the part -of the solicitor, she held her tongue, waiting for him to begin the -attack, so that a chance word might afford her an opportunity of -fathoming his motives.</p> - -<p>"Well, Mrs. Belswin," said Dombrain, with a nasty grin on his -coarse-looking face, "and how are you to-day, after your conduct in -our last interview?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin looked him up and down in a sneeringly insolent manner, -which made him writhe.</p> - -<p>"I think I ought to ask that question," she said, disdainfully, -"considering that I left you crushed, like the little reptile you -are."</p> - -<p>"Oh, no. None of those compliments, if you please. Last time you had -it all your own way; this time I have it all mine."</p> - -<p>"Two can play at every game."</p> - -<p>"Yes; but one generally holds trumps. This time I hold trumps. Do you -play cards, Mrs. Belswin? If so, you know that the game is to the -player with the strongest hand."</p> - -<p>"I congratulate you on your knowledge of gambling. And may I ask what -you are talking about?"</p> - -<p>"All in good time, Mrs. Belswin--all in good time. First and foremost, -I wish to know about your visit to Silas Oates. Ah! you start at that. -You are not quite so confident as you were at our last interview."</p> - -<p>"I think you are mistaken," replied Mrs. Belswin, coldly. "There can -be nothing to interest you in my interview with Mr. Oates. If you -fancy your knowledge that I called on him makes me afraid, you were -never further from the truth in your life. I am not to be terrified by -an ex-convict."</p> - -<p>It was the old threat that had formerly reduced Mr. Dombrain to -silence; but now it appeared to have lost its power, for the -ex-convict leaned back in his chair and laughed insolently.</p> - -<p>"People who live in glass houses should not throw stones."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?"</p> - -<p>"Exactly what I say."</p> - -<p>"You seem to have been at your private whiskey-bottle," said Mrs. -Belswin, rising impatiently; "but as I am not in the mood to listen to -your drunken ravings I will go."</p> - -<p>"Oh, no, you won't. Of course you can if you like; but you had better -hear what I have to say."</p> - -<p>"I will give you five minutes," replied Mrs. Belswin, resuming her -seat, "no more."</p> - -<p>"That will be enough. Now, just listen to me. Mr. Oates has called, -and informed me of your attempt to blackmail him. You have got one -hundred pounds, and he says he will not give you any more."</p> - -<p>"That is a question that has nothing to do with you, sir."</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes, it has," retorted Dombrain, coolly. "He asked me to stop you -from calling on him again, and I intend to do so."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin laughed long and loudly.</p> - -<p>"Do you, indeed? And may I ask how you intend to stop me?"</p> - -<p>Mr. Dombrain leaned across the desk, glanced round to make sure they -were alone, then whispered slowly--</p> - -<p>"By asking you how you killed your husband."</p> - -<p>She sprang to her feet with a pale face, her eyes flashing fiercely.</p> - -<p>"It's a lie! You know I had nothing to do with it."</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid a jury wouldn't take that view if they heard my evidence."</p> - -<p>"Your evidence! the evidence of a felon."</p> - -<p>"That's a pretty name, but instead of abusing me, you'd better look -after yourself."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin sat down again and spoke deliberately.</p> - -<p>"I don't know what your object is in talking like this, but I will -take it as a favour if you will let me know precisely how you connect -me with my late husband's death. You say I killed him. You hint you -can prove it. That's a lie, because if that was the case I should be -in prison now. No! No! Mr. Damberton, you are not the man to spare a -woman."</p> - -<p>"Certainly not you, who have made my life a hell for the last few -months."</p> - -<p>"We can exchange these compliments afterwards. First your story."</p> - -<p>Dombrain, who was growing weary of all this fencing, lost no time in -responding to this request, and began at once.</p> - -<p>"As you know, I was staying at Thornstream on the night you arrived. -Ostensibly, I had come down to see Sir Rupert on business, but my real -motive was to see how you intended to meet him. You did not appear at -dinner, and I thought you would put off the interview until the next -day. I was tired with my day's work, and was about to retire to rest -when I saw you descending the stairs, upon which I hid myself, lest -you should see me."</p> - -<p>"Coward!" ejaculated Mrs. Belswin, disdainfully.</p> - -<p>"No, I was no coward, but had I been foolish enough to have spoken to -you, in one of your paroxysms of anger, you might have revealed my -true position to Sir Rupert, out of spite."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin thought how she had really done this, and how ignorant -the man before her was of his narrow escape from exposure--an exposure -only prevented by the death of Pethram.</p> - -<p>"Therefore," resumed Dombrain, coldly, "I hid myself, but I watched -the door of the study. You entered there, and the door was closed. A -long time passed--the servants put out the lights, shut up the house, -and retired to rest. Miss Pethram, I have learned since, retired early -on account of a headache, and as the whole Thornstream household kept -country hours, by the time the clock struck ten--the hall clock I am -speaking of--all the house was asleep except you, Sir Rupert, and -myself. The half-hour sounded, still you had not left the study--the -three-quarters struck, but the door was still closed. I waited, and -waited, and wondered. Eleven sounded from the clock in the hall, and -at a few minutes past the door opened, and you appeared, pale and -ghastly, like a guilty spectre. Closing the door softly after you, -with a furtive look round, lest some one should be watching, you fled -upstairs, brushed past me, and went into your bedroom. This was all I -wanted to see. I knew you had met your husband, that he had not turned -you out of the house, so never dreaming that you had committed a crime -to screen your real self, I went to bed. Next morning----"</p> - -<p>He flung open his arms with a dramatic gesture, quite in keeping with -the stagey way in which he had told the story, and became silent, with -his small eyes viciously fastened on the unfortunate woman before him.</p> - -<p>She was sitting like an image of stone, pale and still, with tightly -compressed lips, and a lurid fire burning in her fierce eyes. Only the -nervous working of her hands lying in her lap betrayed her deep -agitation, and when he had finished, she looked at him with a smile of -disdain.</p> - -<p>"And you saw all this wonderful thing like a cat in the dark," she -said, scoffingly.</p> - -<p>"No! You know perfectly well that the hall lamp was still lighted, for -Sir Rupert himself had told the servants not to wait up, as he would -work late, and he would put it out himself. I saw perfectly well all I -have described and you know it."</p> - -<p>"So you think I killed my husband?"</p> - -<p>"I'm sure of it. According to the evidence at the inquest, the time of -his death was between ten and eleven. I can prove that you left the -room at eleven o'clock, so you must have left your dead husband behind -you."</p> - -<p>"If you saw all this, why did you not tell it at the inquest?"</p> - -<p>"Because I wished to spare you."</p> - -<p>"No! No! Don't lie to me like that. I am your bitter enemy! Why did -you spare me?"</p> - -<p>"I will tell you. Whether you killed Sir Rupert or not was nothing to -me, personally. My reputation as a lawyer is a great deal to me. Had I -denounced you, the result would have been----"</p> - -<p>"That I should have told all about you, and you would have been struck -off the rolls. Ah! I thought you had some motive for sparing me. Well, -what do you intend to do now?"</p> - -<p>"Tell all, unless you promise to leave Oates alone."</p> - -<p>"If you do your position will still be lost."</p> - -<p>"I know it, I know it!" cried Dombrain in despair; "but what can I do? -If I do not stop your going to Oates, he knows me, and he will tell -all. If I do stop you, then you in revenge will tell all."</p> - -<p>"I see, you are between two fires," said Mrs. Belswin, calmly. "Well, -set your mind at rest; I will trouble Silas Oates no more."</p> - -<p>"You will not?"</p> - -<p>"No. All I wanted out of him was money, but as to that you will take -his place and be my banker."</p> - -<p>"I?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, you! Pshaw, man, you needn't look so scared! You know well -enough that the money will be returned to you when those shares are -sold."</p> - -<p>"But they are worth nothing."</p> - -<p>"So I thought until you wanted to buy them," said Mrs. Belswin, with a -sneer.</p> - -<p>"You forget I hold your life in my hand!" cried Dombrain, -threateningly.</p> - -<p>"Well, and I hold your position in mine," retorted Mrs. Belswin. "My -life is a great deal to me, your position is everything to you. I am -willing to leave Silas Oates alone if you give me money when I require -it; if not, you can denounce me when you like."</p> - -<p>"And then you will be hanged!" said Dombrain, spitefully.</p> - -<p>"Bah! I can prove your story to be a lie."</p> - -<p>"How so?"</p> - -<p>"I'll tell you now. Good heavens! did you think that if I was guilty -I'd think my life safe in your keeping? My neck against your position? -Bah! the thing is ridiculous. I can clear myself and ruin you at the -same time, but I want no scandal, nor my daughter to know who I am, as -she inevitably must had I to publicly defend myself of your charge of -murder. So you see that on my side I have as much a desire as you to -keep matters quiet. Now then, I'll leave Silas Oates alone, I will not -go near him; but if I want money you must supply it."</p> - -<p>"I will do so--to any reasonable amount," replied Dombrain, hastily. -"But you say you are innocent?"</p> - -<p>"And I am."</p> - -<p>"After what I've seen I don't believe it. If you did not kill him, who -else had a motive?"</p> - -<p>"How do I know? I was not in all the secrets of Sir Rupert's life. But -I can tell to you, so afraid of losing your pettifogging position, -what I dare not tell any one else. I saw Sir Rupert's dead body on -that night, but I did not kill him."</p> - -<p>"Then you know who did?"</p> - -<p>"No, I do not."</p> - -<p>"Let me hear your story," said Dombrain, with a disbelieving smile.</p> - -<p>"When I entered the study," began Mrs. Belswin, without further -preamble, "I saw my husband. He recognised me at once. We had a -stirring interview, and he turned me out of the house. I left by the -French window, where he was found lying dead; and in order to get -shelter for the night, I went to 'The Chequers' in Deswarth. I'm not -telling you all the story, mind you, but only what suits myself. In -the dock I should tell everything. Well, to resume. I waited at 'The -Chequers' for some time, and then determined to return to Thornstream -to say good-bye to my daughter, as I knew Sir Rupert would prevent me -seeing her the next day. I arrived on the terrace just when the hour -of eleven sounded. There was still a light in Sir Rupert's study, and -stealing along in the dark, I saw his dead body lying half in and half -out of the window. A full sense of the danger of my position flashed -on me, and I saw that if I was arrested I was lost. I dare not try to -enter the house by any door as they were all locked, and if a servant -admitted me I should have to account for my being out at that hour of -the night, which would lead to my being accused of the murder. The -only way to regain my own room in safety was across the dead body of -my husband, so I entered by the French window, left by the study door, -and regained my bedroom without any one having seen me--except you. I -did not kill him! I swear I did not!"</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid that story would not go down in a court of law."</p> - -<p>"I told you I had kept some of the story to myself. To use your favourite illustration, I still hold my trump card."</p> - -<p>There was silence for a few moments, during which Mrs. Belswin, -considerably agitated, used her smelling-bottle freely. Then Dombrain -spoke.</p> - -<p>"Well, there's nothing more to be said."</p> - -<p>"I think not," said Mrs. Belswin, rising. "You know my conditions!"</p> - -<p>"And you know mine, I think," retorted Dombrain with a malignant grin.</p> - -<p>She cast upon him a glance of supreme contempt, and went to the door.</p> - -<p>"I'll see you again when I want money," she said, and vanished.</p> - -<p>"Humph!" said Mr. Dombrain, thoughtfully; "if I can find out the part -of the story you won't tell, I may be able to stop your seeing me -altogether."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_27" href="#div1Ref_27">CHAPTER XXVII.</a></h4> -<h5>THE CASE.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-7px"> -"Out of the night, and into the light,</p> -<p class="t2">Comes the doer of evil deeds.<br> -<p class="t1">Out of the light, and into the night,<br> -<p class="t2">With a sin on his soul he speeds.<br> -<p class="t1">But the hemp is sown, and the tree is grown,<br> -That will hang him high as a murderer known,</p> -<p class="t2">Himself hath planted the seeds."</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>To be an amateur detective requires a certain amount of capital. There -are people "who know" to be discovered, and a search after them cannot -be successfully conducted without money; and when the people "who -know" are brought under the eye of the inquirer, they frequently -decline to speak unless well paid for their information. Money, -therefore, is essential to the success of solving a mystery, and when -Archie Maxwell sat down calmly to consider the aspect of affairs, he -found himself at once face to face with the question of funds.</p> - -<p>He was young, he had talents, he had a profession; so with all these -endowments looked forward to making a fortune, which is the ambition -of every well-constituted youth in this age of gold. Unfortunately, -like the magical draught of Mephistopheles, time is required to make -money, and as every moment was of importance in finding out the -mystery of Sir Rupert's death, Archie could not waste four or five -years in getting together sufficient to prosecute his inquiries. It -was true that he was engaged to go out to Buenos Ayres at the end of -the year, but the firm who employed him were hard to deal with, and -refused to let him draw in advance of his salary. Toby was not well -off, so he could not apply to him for aid, besides which that young -man was already on his way to the Antipodes; so Mr. Maxwell found -himself with comparatively little money in the bank and a difficult -case to solve without funds.</p> - -<p>Luckily Archie was of a very sanguine nature, and hopeful in a -Micawberish sense of "something turning up;" so making up his mind to -at all events make a start in the affair, he collected all the -newspaper reports of the inquest, and made himself thoroughly -acquainted with the ins and outs of the baronet's death.</p> - -<p>It appeared, from the evidence of the butler, that on the night of the -murder Sir Rupert had informed him that he would be sitting up late in -his study, looking over some papers, and that the household could go -to bed at their usual time. Sir Rupert appeared cheerful, but somewhat -preoccupied, and went into his study shortly after dinner. The butler, -according to his instructions, locked up all the house, leaving the -hall lamp burning for Sir Rupert to put out, and then, with the rest -of the servants, retired to rest. He heard no pistol-shot, no sounds -of any one being in the house, and knew nothing about the terrible -event which had taken place until the next morning.</p> - -<p>The housemaid stated that she had entered the study, according to her -usual custom, to put it to rights, and had there found the body of her -master lying half in and half out of the French window, which was -open. Her shriek of terror brought her fellow-servants to the spot, -and the police were sent for but she knew nothing more.</p> - -<p>Miss Pethram deposed that her father had said good-night to her -shortly after dinner, and had retired to his study to attend to some -business. She remained in the drawing-room for some time with Mr. -Dombrain, her father's solicitor, who was then staying in the house, -and retired to bed about nine o'clock, as she had a bad headache. She -had heard no pistol-shot during the night There was nothing in her -father's demeanour that led her to think he contemplated suicide.</p> - -<p>Mr. Dombrain, the dead man's solicitor, said that he had come down to -Thornstream in order to witness the signing of Sir Rupert's will. The -signing took place in the afternoon, and at night the baronet went to -his study to look over some papers. He (witness) offered to accompany -him, but Sir Rupert refused, as he said it was not necessary. Miss -Pethram retired to bed about nine o'clock, and as he was left alone, -he also retired half an hour afterwards. Sir Rupert never gave him the -least idea that he contemplated suicide--in fact, on the night of the -murder he seemed very cheerful. Witness was a very heavy sleeper, but -he certainly had heard no pistol-shot during the night, and it was -only next morning that he learned about the crime.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin, chaperon to Miss Pethram, gave her evidence, which was -rather important, as she was the last person who saw Sir Rupert alive. -She had been engaged when Sir Rupert was in New Zealand, and on his -arrival had gone up to London on business. She only returned on the -day when the crime was committed, and went to see Sir Rupert in his -study between eight and nine o'clock. She only had a short interview -with him, as they had nothing particular to talk about, and had gone -up to her room shortly after nine o'clock. Knowing that Miss Pethram -had retired with a bad headache, she did not disturb her, but went -straight to bed. Some of the servants might have noticed her going -upstairs to her room; she did not know. Sir Rupert was a complete -stranger to her. He seemed well and cheerful; certainly the idea of -suicide never crossed her mind for a moment. She heard no sounds of a -struggle nor any pistol-shot, and knew nothing of the committal of the -crime until next morning.</p> - -<p>The doctor's evidence was to the effect that the deceased had been -shot somewhere between ten and eleven o'clock at night. The bullet, -penetrating the right eye, had entered the brain, causing death almost -instantaneously. From the slanting upward direction of the bullet from -the eye towards the back part of the head he would think the pistol or -gun had been fired from a low position. According to his idea, the -murderer had been crouching behind some shrubs on the terrace. Sir -Rupert came to the window, and, as the study was lighted, his form -would be clearly defined against the brilliant background. This was -the opportunity chosen by the assassin, who had fired from the -crouching position he occupied, so that the bullet had travelled -upwards and penetrated into the brain through the right eye.</p> - -<p>During the evidence of this witness the bullet was produced to the -Court, and afterwards the Coroner summed up. Going on the evidence -produced, the jury brought in a verdict of murder against some person -or persons unknown. In addition to this bold report of the case, there -was a short leader, which theorised a great deal, but ultimately came -to the conclusion that nothing could be done to unravel the mystery, -and (as usual) complimented the police on their vigilance, a -compliment wholly undeserved, as, from all appearances, the case had -been conducted in a singularly slip-slop fashion, utterly unworthy of -English justice.</p> - -<p>Being an engineer, Maxwell was consequently a mathematician, -therefore, having been trained in that exact science, he had a -singularly logical mind. Two and two, according to his way of looking -at things, made four, but in this instance he was doubtful as to -whether they did so. Everything in connection with the case was -wrapped in mystery, and there seemed to be no one on whom suspicion -could rest. All the people present in the house on the night in -question had given satisfactory accounts of their movements, except, -perhaps, Mrs. Belswin, and the only possible suspicion against her was -that she had been last in the company of the dead man.</p> - -<p>This was all very well, but the committal of a crime pre-supposes a -motive, and as Mrs. Belswin, according to her own account, was a -complete stranger to Sir Rupert, it would certainly be very foolish to -even hint such a thing against her. She had seen the baronet, spoken -to him for a few minutes, and then retired to bed. Nothing could be -simpler, and whosoever had a hand in the murder it was certainly not -Mrs. Belswin, so Archie dismissed this fancy as a foolish one.</p> - -<p>The curious part about the whole affair was that no one had heard any -report, and, as Sir Rupert had been shot the sound of the weapon -employed would certainly have been heard. Yet all present in the house -averred that they heard nothing; which was, to say the least, very -peculiar.</p> - -<p>Judging from the evidence of the doctor, Sir Rupert was shot from the -terrace, which argued that the assassin must have been a stranger to -the house. With this idea in his head, Maxwell wondered whether any -suspicious stranger had been about the neighbourhood at that time, and -made up his mind to inquire. Sir Rupert, from all accounts, was not a -loveable character, and, in fact, his conduct towards Maxwell had been -anything but courteous, so that he was just the kind of man to have -enemies. This being the case, what was more probable than that some -man or woman whom he had wronged had followed him to Thornstream and -revenged themselves by killing him. It was rather a wild idea, still -it seemed the only feasible one, so Maxwell made up his mind to go -down to Deswarth, ask the hospitality of the vicarage for a few days, -and make inquiries regarding what strangers had been to the village on -that fatal day.</p> - -<p>This was the conclusion he came to, but then the assertion of every -one that they had heard no shot was puzzling, and the more Maxwell -thought the more puzzled he became.</p> - -<p>Suddenly an idea struck him and he jumped to his feet.</p> - -<p>"I have it," he cried, "it was an air-gun."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_28" href="#div1Ref_28">CHAPTER XXVIII.</a></h4> -<h5>WHAT MRS. BELK FOUND.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:25%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-7px"> -"Nothing appears,<br> -All is concealed;<br> -Chance interferes,<br> -All is revealed."</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>It was a great idea, and one which had never entered the brains of the -detectives employed in the case, so Maxwell looked upon it as an -earnest of success. He told no one about it, not even Mrs. Belswin, -nor Kaituna; but informing them that he was called out of town for a -few days on business, made his preparations for going to Deswarth, and -finding out all particulars regarding the case which had not come to -light at the inquest.</p> - -<p>Then Chance interfered.</p> - -<p>On the morning of his departure he was having breakfast at his rooms, -intending to catch the eleven train to Deswarth, when his departure -was postponed indefinitely by the appearance of a visitor.</p> - -<p>And the visitor was Mrs. Belk.</p> - -<p>She sent up her name to Archie, who told the servant to admit her, -wondering on what errand she had come--never for a moment thinking -that she could have anything to do with the Deswarth tragedy.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belk entered, neatly dressed in her widow's garb, with her mean -evil face looking smug and placid under the white frill of her widow's -cap. On seeing Archie she curtsied in an old-fashioned way, and, with -the natural deference of the lower orders, waited for him to speak -first.</p> - -<p>"You wish to see me," he said, looking at her in some surprise, for -such an odd figure had never before entered his chambers.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belk, with another curtsey, signified that she did wish to see -him, and had come to London for that purpose. This reply having been -made, she shut her mouth with a snap, and waited, still giving no hint -of her errand.</p> - -<p>"Will you not be seated, Mrs.--Mrs.----"</p> - -<p>"Belk, sir," said the woman, seeing that Archie was at a loss, -"perhaps, sir, you may know my son, Samson Belk."</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes! the good-looking bailiff," replied Maxwell, carelessly. "Is -he your son?"</p> - -<p>"He is, sir," answered Mrs. Belk, her heart swelling with pride at -hearing the eulogy on her son's good looks. "He was bailiff to Sir -Rupert, but now he is bailiff to the new baronet, Sir Thomas Pethram."</p> - -<p>"Indeed. I'm very glad his prospects are so good," said Archie -politely, wondering what all this domestic history had to do with him.</p> - -<p>"His prospects ain't good, sir; and that's why I've come up to see -you."</p> - -<p>"But, my good woman, what can I do?" cried the young man in amazement.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belk wriggled in her chair, sniffed significantly, and went on -talking apparently in a manner most irrelevant to the subject in hand.</p> - -<p>"Sir Thomas," she said, with snappy deliberation, "is a hard man. Sir -Rupert was hard, there's no denying, and my boy--who is proud--didn't -get on with being crushed. If Sir Rupert hadn't died he would have -left his service; but as he did die, and Sir Thomas asked him to stay -on--he knowing all the ins and outs of the place--he did so, thinking -Sir Thomas would be a better master."</p> - -<p>"And he was disappointed?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belk nodded her head emphatically.</p> - -<p>"You can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear," she said, -sententiously; "and that's what Sir Thomas is. A hard gentleman, sir, -who thinks my boy is a slave; so we are going to leave his service."</p> - -<p>"But, Mrs. Belk," observed Archie, rather puzzled, "what on earth has -all this got to do with me?"</p> - -<p>"I'm coming to that, sir," replied the woman, imperturbably; "me and -my boy wondered what we'd do when we left Sir Thomas; for situations, -Mr. Maxwell, are hard to get--especially for poor folks like us."</p> - -<p>Maxwell nodded an assent, and waited until she came to the reason of -her visit.</p> - -<p>"In the papers," pursued Mrs. Belk, with a faint smile of triumph on -her pale face, "me and my boy saw that strong men was being exhibited -in London, and all the gentry was mad on 'em."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I believe that is the case. This strong man craze is in all the -music-halls."</p> - -<p>"My son, sir, is called Samson, and he is as strong as a horse."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I know that," said Archie, with the cordial admiration of -physical strength which one Englishman feels for another. "He is -tremendously strong. I've seen him do some wonderful things. Well, and -your son proposes to come up to London and exhibit his strength."</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir," said Mrs. Belk, with a look of triumph; "he does, sir. -It's my idea."</p> - -<p>"I've no doubt it's a good one. While the craze lasts he may make -money; but after----"</p> - -<p>"I'll take care of the money, sir," answered Mrs. Belk, grimly. "He'll -make hay while the sun shines, and I'll take care when the sun doesn't -shine that we'll have something to live on."</p> - -<p>"Do you want me to help you in this, then?"</p> - -<p>"In a sort of way, sir; but not for nothing."</p> - -<p>Maxwell smiled.</p> - -<p>"Really, I don't know what you can do for me."</p> - -<p>"You wait, sir, and I'll tell. To git a start in London requires -money, and me and my son want fifty pounds to give us a start."</p> - -<p>"Indeed. I'm afraid I can't advance the money."</p> - -<p>"So you say now, sir; but when you know what fifty pounds 'ull buy, -perhaps you will."</p> - -<p>Archie's curiosity was now fully aroused, owing to the significance of -her words. There was evidently something important behind all this -apparently idle preamble, and he waited with some anxiety as to what -she was going to tell him.</p> - -<p>"You are engaged to Miss Pethram, sir, I'm told," said Mrs. Belk, -abruptly.</p> - -<p>"Yes, I am. What then?" replied Maxwell rather haughtily, not liking -his private affairs being mentioned by a complete stranger.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belk bent forward in a mysterious manner, touched him on the -knee, then flung herself back in her chair with a searching look.</p> - -<p>"Has she found out who killed her father?"</p> - -<p>"Good God!"</p> - -<p>Maxwell jumped to his feet with an ejaculation, and, one hand grasping -the back of his chair, stood looking at the mean figure before him in -silent amazement.</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?" he demanded in a stifled voice.</p> - -<p>The woman carried an obtrusive black leather bag, of no small size, -with a metal clasp, and this she shook slowly at him as she replied to -his question.</p> - -<p>"In here," she said, in her monotonous voice--a voice that neither -rose nor fell, but kept on droning constantly in the same dreary -monotone--"in here I have something which may lead to the discovery of -the criminal."</p> - -<p>Maxwell gasped. Was chance going to reveal the secret which he had -been so afraid was a secret for ever? He had been about to go down to -Deswarth on an apparently hopeless quest, without anything to guide -him to a conclusion; and lo! at the very time when he was starting, -this woman appeared from the clouds with the asseveration that she -knew something which would be a sure guide to the revealing of the -mystery.</p> - -<p>"In that bag?" he said, mechanically, looking at it in a fascinated -fashion. "In that bag?"</p> - -<p>With a cry of relief he advanced and stretched out his hands eagerly.</p> - -<p>"Give it to me! What is it? Give it to me?" The woman put the bag -behind her back with a frown.</p> - -<p>"No," she answered, in the same passionless voice. "Nothing for -nothing. I have told you what I wanted. Give me fifty pounds, and you -shall have it."</p> - -<p>"But what is it?"</p> - -<p>"A clue to the man who committed the murder."</p> - -<p>"Give it to me at once!"</p> - -<p>"Certainly--when I get fifty pounds." Maxwell reflected. He was not a -rich man, and fifty pounds was a great consideration to him. Still, in -his search he would probably spend that amount, and by giving it to -this woman he would perhaps learn the name of the criminal at once, so -it would be better to save time by acceding to her demand, and thus -arrest the assassin before he had time to leave the country. Therefore -he made up his mind to give it to her, and secure the evidence she -said was in the bag; but first he tried to find out exactly what that -evidence was worth.</p> - -<p>"Do you know who committed the murder?"</p> - -<p>"No, I do not. I found something which I think belongs to him, and may -lead to his detection. You shall have it for fifty pounds."</p> - -<p>"Why do you come to me?"</p> - -<p>"You are engaged to Miss Pethram, and it is to your interest to find -out who killed her father. Besides, you will pay me money. If I went -to Sir Thomas or to Sir Rupert's solicitor, they would probably refuse -to give me a penny, and I want the money for my son."</p> - -<p>"If I give you a cheque for fifty pounds you will give me -this--this--whatever it is you have in your bag?"</p> - -<p>"I will; but I don't like cheques. I'd rather have the money in gold."</p> - -<p>"You mistrust me?"</p> - -<p>"I don't like cheques," reiterated Mrs. Belk, doggedly.</p> - -<p>Maxwell reflected a few moments, then made up his mind what to do, and -rang the bell. When the servant who attended to all the chambers in -the building entered, he handed him a cheque for fifty pounds, made -payable to bearer, and drawn on the Piccadilly Bank, a branch of which -was not far distant.</p> - -<p>"Take a hansom and cash this at once--gold. Will you be long?"</p> - -<p>"About ten minutes, sir."</p> - -<p>The servant departed, and Maxwell turned to Mrs. Belk, who observed -ail these doings with a satisfied smile.</p> - -<p>"You see I am treating you fairly," he said quietly; "and when the -messenger returns I will place those fifty pounds in your hands."</p> - -<p>"Very well, sir. In return I will give you what is in here,"</p> - -<p>"I do not like this distrust!" cried Maxwell, angrily.</p> - -<p>"I am a country woman, sir; I know nothing of London ways."</p> - -<p>She was evidently obdurate, and there was silence for a few minutes. -Then Archie made another attempt to extract information from her.</p> - -<p>"Where did you find this--whatever it is?"</p> - -<p>"I will tell you, sir, when you have it in your hands."</p> - -<p>"Do you know to whom it belongs?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir."</p> - -<p>"It seems to me that I am paying a heavy price for what is of -comparatively little value."</p> - -<p>"I may be able to tell you something in addition to giving this to -you."</p> - -<p>"Likely to be of service in connection with it?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I think so."</p> - -<p>"Humph! Is this clue which you have of value?"</p> - -<p>"To you, yes."</p> - -<p>"Of pecuniary value, I mean?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, it is valuable."</p> - -<p>"Then why did you not sell it instead of giving it to me for fifty -pounds?"</p> - -<p>"Sir," said Mrs. Belk, coldly, "I am an honest woman. The thing is not -mine to sell. Money obtained dishonestly brings no good luck, and as -this money is for my son, I do not wish it to be cursed."</p> - -<p>"The fifty pounds I now give you may be the price of a man's blood. -You are strangely scrupulous. You will not steal, but you will hang a -man."</p> - -<p>"If he is guilty he deserves to die. Credit rather than blame is mine -for handing him over to justice."</p> - -<p>Maxwell looked curiously at her.</p> - -<p>"You speak above your station in life."</p> - -<p>"Very probably," replied Mrs. Belk, indifferently. "I have had some -education."</p> - -<p>This strange dialogue was interrupted by the entrance of the servant, -who handed Maxwell fifty pounds in gold and then took his departure. -The young man placed the money on the table and motioned to Mrs. Belk.</p> - -<p>"Count it, please, and see if it is correct."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belk eagerly advanced towards the table, and dividing the money -into tens, counted it rapidly. Having done so, she took a small canvas -bag out of her pocket and put the gold into it.</p> - -<p>"That is all right, sir," she said, with a sigh of relief, opening the -black bag. "You have behaved like a gentleman; I have the money I -want, and you have in exchange--this."</p> - -<p>"This" was a small diamond pin in the shape of a star, with eight -points, and Maxwell took it in his hand with a sensation that he had -seen it before.</p> - -<p>"Ah!" he said, thoughtfully, turning it over in his hands, "this is -the thing I have bought for my fifty pounds."</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir."</p> - -<p>"It is worth about twenty, I should say," said Maxwell, resuming his -seat. "But doubtless the story attached to it will render it more -valuable."</p> - -<p>"There is no story, sir," replied Mrs. Belk, who had placed the gold -in her obtrusive black bag. "Simply this: I found that on the terrace -of the Hall on the morning after the murder. It was lying close to the -window."</p> - -<p>"Indeed! And you think----"</p> - -<p>"I think that it was dropped by the man who murdered Sir Rupert."</p> - -<p>"How do you know it was a man?"</p> - -<p>"That is a gentleman's scarf-pin, sir."</p> - -<p>"Hah!" cried Maxwell, with a sudden start, "I know now where I saw -it."</p> - -<p>"You saw it, sir?" asked Mrs. Belk, eagerly.</p> - -<p>"Yes, on the scarf of the man I----never mind, I may be mistaken. Did -you tell your son you had found this?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir. I wished to surprise him with the money. I have told no one -except you."</p> - -<p>"I'm glad of that. Well, I think I have an idea; but surely he cannot -be guilty of the murder."</p> - -<p>"Who, sir?"</p> - -<p>Maxwell, who had risen to his feet, looked at her keenly.</p> - -<p>"Have you any idea of whom I am talking?"</p> - -<p>"None in the least, sir."</p> - -<p>The young man walked to the other end of the room, then retraced his -steps slowly.</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Belk," he said, after a pause, "do you know if there were any -strangers in Deswarth on the night of the murder?"</p> - -<p>"Only one, sir. A furriner at The Chequers, and he went away next -morning."</p> - -<p>"Do you think he knew Sir Rupert?"</p> - -<p>"I do not know, sir. All I know is that I found that scarf-pin near -where the murder was committed. If it belongs to the furriner, he -killed Sir Rupert."</p> - -<p>"What was he doing at Deswarth?"</p> - -<p>"I do not know, sir."</p> - -<p>"Humph! Well, say nothing about this to any one, Mrs. Belk. I will see -you again when I come down to Deswarth."</p> - -<p>"You are coming down to Deswarth, sir?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, to find out who killed Sir Rupert."</p> - -<p>"I think you'll find him in London, sir," said the woman, with a grim -smile, as she stood with her hand on the door. "Good-morning, sir."</p> - -<p>"Good-morning."</p> - -<p>Maxwell stood a long time looking at the pin.</p> - -<p>"Yes," he said aloud, "it certainly belongs to that man."</p> - -<p>He had seen it in the scarf of Ferrari in the morning he met Mrs. -Belswin at the Deswarth station.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_29" href="#div1Ref_29">CHAPTER XXIX.</a></h4> -<h5>DANGER.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:15%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-7px"> -"Woman, this stranger<br> -Knows not thy shame;<br> -Yet there is danger<br> -Hears he thy name.</p> -<br> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-7px">"Hide it, conceal it,<br> -Heed not the cost;<br> -Breathe it, reveal it,<br> -And thou art lost."</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>The diamond scarf-pin had been found on the terrace of Thornstream by -Mrs. Belk, so the man to whom it belonged must have been there on the -night of the murder, and the owner thereof, according to Maxwell's -firm conviction--on the testimony of his own eyes--was none other than -the stranger who had been in the company of Mrs. Belswin at the -Deswarth station. The first thing, therefore, to be done was to find -out who this stranger was, and demand from him an explanation of his -presence at Thornstream on that fatal night.</p> - -<p>Maxwell, however, did not know this man whom he suspected of being a -murderer; he did not even know his name; but he could discover all -about him in two ways, one of which was doubtful, the other certain.</p> - -<p>The doubtful way:</p> - -<p>To go down to Deswarth and inquire from the landlord of The Chequers -the name, position, and business in the village of the man who had -stayed at the inn. This was doubtful in this way: that supposing the -stranger had come to Deswarth to commit this crime, he would naturally -give a false name to the landlord, so as to obviate the danger of -discovery, so Maxwell, with this idea in his head, plainly saw that -going down to Deswarth in order to interview the landlord would, in -all reasonable probability, be a waste of time.</p> - -<p>The certain way:</p> - -<p>To ask Mrs. Belswin the name of her companion, and the reason of his -coming to the village. Archie felt his old doubts about Mrs. Belswin -revive as he thought of the doubtful juxtaposition of this suspicious -character with the companion. Why had she gone to London at the time -of Sir Rupert's arrival? Why had she returned with a stranger, who had -been on the terrace on the night of the murder? And why had Sir -Rupert been murdered on the night of her return? Only one person could -answer all these inquiries, and that person was Mrs. Belswin. There -was certainly something very mysterious about her conduct; but -doubtless she would be able to give a satisfactory explanation; -otherwise---- A cold sweat broke out on Maxwell's brow as he thought -of the alternative.</p> - -<p>Suspense is always more terrible than the event itself, and Archie, -full of suspicion against Mrs. Belswin and the unknown foreigner, -tortured his mind to a frightful extent over the possibility of this -woman being concerned in the murder. If, however, she was innocent, -she would be able to exculpate herself from any complicity in the -affair; but if she was guilty it was terrible to think that she was -the daily and nightly companion of Kaituna. She had possibly killed -the father! If so she might also kill the daughter. Was she some one -whom Sir Rupert had wronged, and who thus avenged herself by the hand -of another. The idea was terrible, and Maxwell, filled with the agony -of uncertainty, determined to go at once to Mrs. Belswin and demand an -explanation.</p> - -<p>He made a point of calling that afternoon, and was lucky enough to -find Mrs. Belswin alone, as Kaituna had gone out on a shopping -excursion with Mrs. Valpy, who had come up to town the previous day. -Mrs. Belswin informed the young man of this, and invited him to wait -until Kaituna returned at the hour of five o'clock.</p> - -<p>"Meanwhile," she said, ringing the bell, "sit down, and we will have -some tea."</p> - -<p>Maxwell mechanically took a seat and glanced at the clock, the hands -of which pointed to four. This would give him a full hour to speak to -Mrs. Belswin before the arrival of Kaituna, and in that time he -expected to learn all he desired to know.</p> - -<p>The lady seemed preoccupied, and as Maxwell was racking his brains to -invent some leading question, neither of them spoke for a few minutes. -The servant brought in the tea, and while Mrs. Belswin busied herself -with the cups, she for the first time noticed the unusual silence of -the young man.</p> - -<p>"Well, Mr. Maxwell," she said, handing him his tea, with a smile, -"speech, I understand, was given to us to conceal our thoughts. You, I -perceive, conceal them without speaking."</p> - -<p>"I have come to see you on a matter of business," said Archie, -abruptly putting down his cup on a small table near at hand.</p> - -<p>The paleness of his face, the abruptness of his speech, the agitation -of his manner, at once put Mrs. Belswin on her guard, and a thrill of -fear shot through her heart--fear lest he should have discovered -anything about her past life which would be fatal to her living with -Kaituna. Her iron stoicism, however, prevailed, and she awaited with -outward calm, but inward perturbation, his next words.</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Belswin," he said, slowly bending towards her, "do you know this -diamond pin?"</p> - -<p>"Oh!" muttered Mrs. Belswin under her breath, recognising it at once, -"more misfortune."</p> - -<p>"What do you say?"</p> - -<p>"Before I answer your question, Mr. Maxwell," she observed, fixing her -keen eyes on his face, "I wish to know why you put it."</p> - -<p>"Certainly, that is only fair. Do you remember the day I met you at -the Deswarth railway station?"</p> - -<p>"Yes!"</p> - -<p>"There was a stranger with you?"</p> - -<p>"A stranger?"</p> - -<p>"Pray do not evade the question," said Maxwell, in an annoyed tone; "I -mean the dark gentleman whom you sent off to see about your -portmanteau, and who accompanied you from town."</p> - -<p>"How do you know he accompanied me from town?"</p> - -<p>"I saw you both leave a first-class carriage together."</p> - -<p>"That proves nothing. Travelling in the same carriage does not prove -that he accompanied me from town."</p> - -<p>"But he looked after your luggage at your request!"</p> - -<p>"Yes! he did so, certainly, but what does that prove?"</p> - -<p>"Simply this, that you know the gentleman."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin would have liked to deny this, as she saw from the -production of the diamond pin, and the mention of Ferrari, that -Maxwell knew something; but she was so afraid, lest, failing her, he -should ask Kaituna, and so possibly discover more than she wished, -that she answered him frankly.</p> - -<p>"Yes, I do know the gentleman."</p> - -<p>"Ah! and you know his name?"</p> - -<p>"Yes! His name is--but why do you want to know?"</p> - -<p>"Because he wore this diamond pin on the day I saw him with you, and -this diamond pin----"</p> - -<p>"Yes! yes!" cried Mrs. Belswin, breathlessly, clasping her hands.</p> - -<p>"--Was found on the terrace of Thornstream the morning after the -murder."</p> - -<p>The woman sprang to her feet, with a cry.</p> - -<p>"Ferrari! impossible."</p> - -<p>"Is his name Ferrari?"</p> - -<p>"Yes! No! that is, Mr. Maxwell," she cried, seizing the young man by -the lappet of his coat "What do you mean? what do you suspect?"</p> - -<p>"I mean that this diamond pin belongs to Ferrari, whom you have just -named. I suspect that he murdered Sir Rupert Pethram."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin uttered a cry of terror.</p> - -<p>"No! no! It cannot be."</p> - -<p>"Then let him prove his innocence."</p> - -<p>"Prove his innocence?"</p> - -<p>"Yes!" said Maxwell, with an air of determination. "I have made up my -mind to bring the murderer of Sir Rupert Pethram to justice. -Appearances are dead against this man, and I intend to put the matter -in the hands of the police."</p> - -<p>"You will never find him."</p> - -<p>Maxwell bounded from his seat, and crossing rapidly to Mrs. Belswin, -seized her wrist.</p> - -<p>"Tell me," he said, imperiously, "have you any reason for wishing this -man to escape?"</p> - -<p>"I!" she murmured, evasively; "I wish him to escape?"</p> - -<p>"Yes! To all appearances he is your friend. He comes down with you to -Deswarth. A jewel belonging to him is found at the window of a room. -In that room a man is found dead. What does it all mean?"</p> - -<p>"Wait!" cried the woman, wrenching herself from his grasp. "Wait; I -must think."</p> - -<p>Maxwell obeyed, and returned to his seat with a cloud on his brow, for -the complicity of Mrs. Belswin in the affair now began to assume -gigantic proportions.</p> - -<p>On her part, Mrs. Belswin saw at a glance the dangers by which she was -environed, and her active brain was already at work seeking some plan -by which she could extricate herself. She already saw that Maxwell -suspected her, and if he did so she trembled lest he should -communicate his suspicions to her daughter. With her hands pressed to -her burning face, she rapidly glanced at the aspect of affairs in -order to know how to act towards this young man, whose attitude -towards her was undeniably hostile.</p> - -<p>If she refused to tell him anything he would put the matter into the -hands of the police, and they would immediately arrest Ferrari. In -doing so they would have no difficulty, as he, being a singer, was -easily to be found, and appearances were sufficiently strong against -him to authorise the granting of a warrant for his arrest. If Ferrari -were arrested he would certainly, urged by a fear of the law, reveal -all about her in his examination, and Kaituna would then learn that -Mrs. Belswin, the companion, was her mother. If she did so, Mrs. -Belswin trembled for the result of such a discovery, so at once she -made up her mind to promise Maxwell an interview with Ferrari, and -meanwhile warn the Italian of his peril. By this means she hoped that, -if guilty, Ferrari would at once fly from England; or, if innocent, he -would be able to exculpate himself without incriminating her, so that -in either case she would still preserve the secret of her true -relationship to Kaituna.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Maxwell," she said at length, suppressing her agitation, "I will -tell you all I know, and then you can judge for yourself."</p> - -<p>"Thank you, Mrs. Belswin," replied Maxwell, in a tone of relief. "I -think that will be the best way, as I am anxious to avoid the -interference of the police."</p> - -<p>"And why, sir," demanded Mrs. Belswin, with a piercing glance.</p> - -<p>The young man made no reply, but looked confused, upon which the woman -laughed bitterly.</p> - -<p>"Ah, I see," she said with scorn; "you think that I, a stranger to the -late Sir Rupert, am implicated in his death."</p> - -<p>"I have not said so, madam," murmured the young man, hastily.</p> - -<p>"I swear before God," cried Mrs. Belswin, rising from her seat and -raising her right hand--"I swear before God that I know nothing of the -death of this man."</p> - -<p>"But Ferrari----"</p> - -<p>"I believe Ferrari to be innocent. Appearances are against him, it is -true, but that does not render him guilty. Listen, Mr. Maxwell. -Stephano Ferrari is a friend of mine, for I met him in America. Before -I came to England I was an opera-singer, and he was singing with me in -the same company. We are engaged to be married."</p> - -<p>"You?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. I wanted to rest my voice, and as I had but little money I -became companion to Miss Pethram. You know whether I have been a good -friend to her or not."</p> - -<p>"You have been a good friend, certainly."</p> - -<p>"My duties kept me near Miss Pethram, so I saw Ferrari but rarely, and -as he is devoted to me, naturally he missed my society. At the time I -left Deswarth, I came to London to see about my marriage, and on my -return--which was on a Sunday--Ferrari came down with me, as he was -not singing that night. Is there anything strange in this?"</p> - -<p>"No; it seems quite natural," replied Maxwell, after a pause. "I would -act the same way towards Kaituna."</p> - -<p>"Signor Ferrari," resumed Mrs. Belswin, coldly, "stayed that night at -The Chequers, and returned, I believe, next morning to town. I did not -see him, as, owing to the terrible death of Sir Rupert, I had to stay -with Kaituna. I do not know how he spent the night. I do not know at -what hour he returned in the morning."</p> - -<p>"But this scarf-pin?"</p> - -<p>"It is certainly his; but what of that? He may have come to -Thornstream to see me, and lost it on the terrace."</p> - -<p>"If so, why did he not see you?"</p> - -<p>"I do not know. I know nothing beyond what I have told you; but set -your mind at rest. Come here to-morrow morning at eleven o'clock, and -I will take you to Signor Ferrari, who will doubtless be able to -explain all to your satisfaction."</p> - -<p>"You will?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; at eleven to-morrow. I am sure he is innocent."</p> - -<p>"I hope so," said Maxwell, heartily, "if only for your sake."</p> - -<p>"You are still suspicious, I see," replied Mrs. Belswin, with a faint -smile. "Well, it is only natural, and I hope your suspicions will be -dispelled by Signor Ferrari's explanation. But now I must ask you to -permit me to retire, as all this exciting talk has given me a -headache. If, however, you will wait for Kaituna----"</p> - -<p>"Not to-night, thank you," said Maxwell, hastily taking his hat and -stick. "I'm too disturbed to see her. Good-bye; I rely on your -promise. To-morrow at eleven."</p> - -<p>"At eleven I will wait you," answered Mrs. Belswin, truthfully; "so at -present good-bye, and don't think worse of me than you can help."</p> - -<p>Maxwell said nothing, but, bowing politely, left the room, while Mrs. -Belswin, annoyed at his silence, stood frowning angrily.</p> - -<p>"He still suspects," she muttered, ringing the bell. "Ferrari must put -an end to his suspicions--if he can."</p> - -<p>The servant entered the room.</p> - -<p>"A hansom at once!"</p> - -<p>She put on her cloak and bonnet and returned to the sitting-room to -wait for the cab.</p> - -<p>"I'm in terrible danger," she said pulling on her gloves--"terrible -danger. One false step, and all may be known. Ferrari is my only hope. -Can he be guilty? Appearances are against him. If he is a murderer let -him suffer, as long as he keeps silence."</p> - -<p>"The cab, ma'am."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin went downstairs.</p> - -<p>"I don't care what happens," she cried, when driving away, "as long as -I keep my child."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_30" href="#div1Ref_30">CHAPTER XXX.</a></h4> -<h5>A CLEVER DEFENCE.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-7px"> -"You say 'twas I! Indeed, sir, 'tis not so;<br> -My hands are innocent of this man's blood.<br> -Nay, never fear! I pardon what you say;<br> -Your judgment is misled by false report.<br> -Why! if you heed the idle tongues that wag,<br> -There's not an honest man would 'scape the law;<br> -For every act bears two interpretations--<br> -One good, one bad--so that our enemies<br> -Use that which fits in best with their desires,<br> -As evil witness 'gainst our true intents."</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>There is no doubt that peril sharpens the wits of all, therefore Mrs. -Belswin, in her interview with the Italian, proved herself such an -able diplomatist, that after some difficulty she obtained what she -wanted. According, therefore, to the arrangement she made with -Ferrari, he was to tell Maxwell as much as possible of his doings at -Deswarth without mentioning the name of Mrs. Belswin.</p> - -<p>On first hearing of Maxwell's accusation, Ferrari wanted to fly, as he -plainly said it would be difficult for him to defend himself against -such a charge, although he swore on the crucifix that he was perfectly -innocent. Mrs. Belswin dissuaded him from this course, as she pointed -out, that if he acknowledged the truth of the accusation by flight, -Maxwell would immediately inform the police, and he would be arrested -before he could leave England. On the contrary, however, if he faced -the charge boldly, and explained the presence of the diamond scarf-pin -on the terrace to the satisfaction of the young man, he would not only -by doing so clear his own character, but might possibly lead to the -capture of the true criminal.</p> - -<p>Ferrari agreed, therefore, to grant the interview desired by Maxwell, -and tell the truth without betraying Mrs. Belswin's true position -towards the dead man in any way; but during this very curious -conversation, both the man and the woman asked each other the same -question, "Are you guilty?" Mrs. Belswin solemnly swore that she was -innocent, and told Ferrari the same story as she had told Dombrain -concerning her doings on that night. This explanation satisfied the -Italian, and then in response to Mrs. Belswin's question as to his -innocence, he gave an account of how he had passed the night.</p> - -<p>"After you departed, carissima," he said, volubly, "I went to seek -you, but the time was darkness. Cospetto! how black. I knew not the -villaggio, so I returned to the osteria in one few minutes."</p> - -<p>"Were you in the hotel before eleven?" demanded Mrs. Belswin, -artfully.</p> - -<p>"Cara mia, you fled at ten hours. I went. I came back at ten and ten. -So I could not have killed Il Marito."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin believed this story, as had he been out longer the -landlord would certainly have talked about it, and Ferrari would have -been arrested at once on suspicion. As it was she felt quite satisfied -that he was innocent; and having thus come to a complete understanding -with him, she departed.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin, therefore, declared that she was innocent.</p> - -<p>Ferrari also declared his innocence.</p> - -<p>If this were the case who was guilty?</p> - -<p>Ah! that was to be revealed the next day to Archie Maxwell.</p> - -<p>True to his promise the young man called for Mrs. Belswin at eleven -o'clock the following morning; and after a short interview with -Kaituna, to whom he talked on the most indifferent subjects, he -departed with the companion. Mrs. Belswin was fearfully pale, as all -her future depended upon the caution observed by Ferrari; and she was -afraid lest, carried away by his impulsive southern nature, the -Italian should reveal more than was desirable to Maxwell. She was not -afraid of being accused of the crime, as Dombrain alone could give -evidence as to her being in the room after the murder; and she had a -perfect understanding with him; but she was terribly afraid of -Maxwell's finding out her true relationship to Kaituna, in which case -she would certainly lose the companionship of her child, to retain -which she had fought so hard.</p> - -<p>Maxwell was also somewhat preoccupied, as in spite of his desire to -think the best of Mrs. Belswin, all her conduct, her hesitations, her -equivocations, appeared so mysterious that he was forced to believe -that she knew more than she chose to tell. Her conduct, however, in -conducting him to a personal interview with Ferrari, was one argument -in her favour, for it never for a moment struck this simple-minded -young man that she had in any way prepared the ground beforehand. -Perfectly honest and straightforward in himself, Maxwell foolishly -supposed all other human beings to possess the same desirable -qualities; and, in the hands of two practised diplomatists, like the -Italian and Mrs. Belswin, he could not possibly hold his own. His life -had always been a perfectly open one, and although he was not rich, he -had never been put to any shifts for money in any way, consequently -his wits had grown somewhat rusty from want of exercise. Mrs. Belswin -and her friend, however, had led a reckless Bohemian existence, which -called for craft, courage, coolness and dexterity, in a very high -degree; therefore they were thoroughly competent in dealing with a -delicate affair like the present, which required subtle management. -Still, a blundering blue-bottle often breaks the web spun by the -craftiest spider; so Mrs. Belswin feared lest the straightforward -honesty of the young man should rush through all her careful schemes, -and by sheer boldness arrive at the truth.</p> - -<p>On their arrival at Ferrari's chambers he was already waiting for -them, and Mrs. Belswin having introduced him to Archie, the three sat -down to talk. It was a fencing match, and the third fencer was -Maxwell, who not only had two opponents against him, but those same -opponents were gifted with powers of attack and parry of which he was -completely ignorant.</p> - -<p>"You speak English, I see," said Archie to Ferrari, after the first -greetings had passed.</p> - -<p>"Certainly, signor," replied the Italian, showing his white teeth. "I -have been long from Italy? Oh, yes. The estates of America."</p> - -<p>"Where I had the pleasure of meeting Signor Ferrari," observed Mrs. -Belswin, ceremoniously.</p> - -<p>At this the signor bowed, but made no remark, so Maxwell, seeing that -he would not commit himself to speech unless questioned, began at once -on the main object of the interview.</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Belswin, I presume, told you I wished to see you, Signor -Ferrari?"</p> - -<p>The Italian bowed.</p> - -<p>"About an article of jewellery belonging to you?"</p> - -<p>Ferrari bowed again.</p> - -<p>"Which was found on the terrace at Thornstream, the residence of the -late Sir Rupert Pethram?"</p> - -<p>The signor bowed for the third time and Maxwell, hot-blooded in all -things, began to lose his temper at this persistent silence.</p> - -<p>"Well, sir," he said, sharply, "perhaps you will be kind enough to -inform me how this scarf-pin came to be on the terrace in question."</p> - -<p>"One moment," said Ferrari, politely lifting his hand. "Will you -kindly tell me who found what you have?"</p> - -<p>Maxwell hesitated a moment, but seeing no reason why he should conceal -the part Mrs. Belk had taken in the affair, spoke out boldly.</p> - -<p>"A woman you don't know--Mrs. Belk."</p> - -<p>"Dio!"</p> - -<p>"Great Heavens!"</p> - -<p>These ejaculations proceeded, the first from Ferrari, the second from -Mrs. Belswin, and in hearing them Maxwell looked suspiciously from the -one to the other.</p> - -<p>"You seem surprised."</p> - -<p>"So will you be surprised," said Mrs. Belswin, gloomily, "when you -hear what the signor has to tell you."</p> - -<p>"I am at Signor Ferrari's service."</p> - -<p>"Per Bacco! it is most strange," cried Ferrari, throwing himself back -on his sky-blue sofa. "Alfieri himself could have thought nothing so -terrible."</p> - -<p>"The story, sir, the story."</p> - -<p>"Eh, signor, I excite your wonder," said the Italian, equably. "Is it -not so? Dio, I myself am lost in fear. Signor, I will tell all."</p> - -<p>Maxwell bit his nether lip with impatience at the leisurely way in -which Ferrari was acting, as he saw from the agitation of Mrs. Belswin -that the name of the woman who had found the scarf-pin moved her -powerfully.</p> - -<p>"Signor," said Ferrari, gracefully, "I departed with the signora here -to the villagio on the day you saw me. Myself I waited at the osteria -you know of, I doubt not. The signora departed to the casa of Il----"</p> - -<p>"Of Sir Rupert," interrupted Mrs. Belswin, quickly.</p> - -<p>"Grazia, signora. To the casa of Seer Ruperts. I am alone, and I weary -of being myself at the osteria. See, then, signor, I take a leetle -walk for amusement. I come to the ground of Seer Ruperts, and there I -meet a galantuomo, handsome as the Apollo."</p> - -<p>"Samson Belk?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, the signora tells me that is his name. Well, this large one -orders me away from the place. I say 'no,' and he would fight me--the -box, signor, you understand. I am not afraid, and I tell him I am not -afraid. Then he says, 'I will put you in prison because you are on the -estate of Seer Ruperts.' At this I fear. I know not the English laws, -so I say, 'Addio, I will go,' but he, signor, answers, 'Not so.' Then -what am I to do? I cannot fight that large man; I have not the box. I -do not know the English laws, and he may truly place me in prison for -being on the grounds of Seer Ruperts. Then, signor, I think, 'Aha, the -money!' but not he refuses the money. Again I say, 'Signor, I will -give you my pin of diamonds if you let me depart.' He says, 'Alright.' -I give him the pin of diamonds. I go away; and that, signor, is all I -am informed of."</p> - -<p>"But, signor," cried Maxwell, jumping to his feet in a state of -uncontrollable agitation, "by this story the diamond pin was in the -possession of Belk."</p> - -<p>"Cospetto! I believe so!"</p> - -<p>"And Belk must have lost it on the terrace."</p> - -<p>"Doubtless, signor."</p> - -<p>"Great heavens!" said Archie, violently, "his own mother found it. If -he committed the crime he is betrayed to the law by his own mother."</p> - -<p>"Through ignorance," interposed Mrs. Belswin, quickly.</p> - -<p>"Nevertheless it hands her son over to justice. Oh, it's horrible! -it's horrible!" and the young man covered his face with his hands.</p> - -<p>"I regret this sorrow, signor," said Ferrari, composedly. "Dio, it is -a tragedy like Lucrezia Borgia. But I have told you the truth."</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes!" muttered Maxwell, resuming his seat; "you could not make -up such a horrible thing."</p> - -<p>"As to myself, signor," resumed Ferrari, quietly, "if you think a -doubt of me, the man of the osteria will tell you I was in the casa on -that night."</p> - -<p>"You can prove an alibi?"</p> - -<p>"But I do not understand, signor," said the Italian, in a perplexed -tone, looking inquiringly at Mrs. Belswin.</p> - -<p>"Oh yes, he can prove an alibi," said that lady, quickly. "The -landlord of The Chequers can give evidence as to his being in the -house all night."</p> - -<p>"I did take a leetle walk."</p> - -<p>"A walk!" ejaculated Maxwell, lifting his head.</p> - -<p>"But I returned at ten hours," finished Ferrari, triumphantly. "No, -signor, I have nothing to do with this death. I can swear it to your -police. The man I spoke to had my diamond. It is found on the terrace. -Ebbene! He alone can have lost it there."</p> - -<p>"What motive could Belk have for killing Sir Rupert?" muttered Maxwell -to himself.</p> - -<p>"Eh, who knows?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin said nothing. Her eyes were cast down, and she was -tapping the ground nervously with her foot. The fact is she was in a -state of considerable trepidation, as she fancied she knew the motive -Belk had in killing Sir Rupert--a motive of which all but herself were -ignorant. Belk loved her. He was in intelligence little raised above -the brute of the fields; so if he had overheard the interview between -herself and Sir Rupert, and seen how ignominiously she was treated, he -might have--but no, it was too horrible; and with a cry she covered -her face with her hands.</p> - -<p>"What is the matter, Mrs. Belswin?" asked Maxwell, looking at her -quickly.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin at once told a lie.</p> - -<p>"It's so horrible to think of a mother being the means of her son's -death."</p> - -<p>"We don't know if he is guilty yet."</p> - -<p>"Then how can he explain his presence on the terrace on that night?"</p> - -<p>"His presence there does not mean that he committed the crime. He may -be able to explain as well as Signor Ferrari."</p> - -<p>"You doubt me, signor," cried Ferrari, wrathfully, starting to his -feet.</p> - -<p>"I have not said so."</p> - -<p>"But you think. Dio, I am not blind. Well, if you doubt, bring me to -this man, signor. I will make him tell all to you before me."</p> - -<p>"Will you, then, come down to Deswarth with me on Sunday?"</p> - -<p>"That is to-morrow! eh! yes, signor, I will come."</p> - -<p>"And I too, Mr. Maxwell."</p> - -<p>"You, Mrs. Belswin?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; I cannot believe this horrible thing of that poor young man," -said Mrs. Belswin, hurriedly. "I will also come. Do you intend to have -Belk arrested on Sunday?"</p> - -<p>"No!" cried Maxwell, vehemently. "I want to hear what he has to say -first."</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid your nature is too soft for a detective, Mr. Maxwell," -said Mrs. Belswin cruelly.</p> - -<p>"Do you think so," he answered angrily. "No! But look, Mrs. Belswin, -at the horrible position of the case. A mother betrays unconsciously -to death the son whom she adores. Oh! it's terrible."</p> - -<p>"He may be innocent."</p> - -<p>"Per Bacco, I hope so," cried Ferrari, anxiously. "I myself think it -is too much a tragedy."</p> - -<p>"I will not speak to the police," said Maxwell, taking up his hat. "We -three will go to Deswarth together and confront this man. If he is -innocent so much the better. If he is guilty----"</p> - -<p>"Well?" asked Mrs. Belswin, seeing him pause.</p> - -<p>"I will do nothing!"</p> - -<p>"Nothing?"</p> - -<p>"No. If I took advantage of what Mrs. Belk told me to hang her son, I -should never have a moment's peace for the rest of my life!"</p> - -<p>"But Kaituna?"</p> - -<p>"She will think the same as I do," said Maxwell, quickly. "And you, -Mrs. Belswin--surely you would not counsel otherwise?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin looked heavenward with a look of almost sublime pity on -her strongly marked face.</p> - -<p>"No; I am a mother, and I know how a mother feels for her only child."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_31" href="#div1Ref_31">CHAPTER XXXI.</a></h4> -<h5>A TRAGIC SITUATION.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-7px"> -"A deed's to be done. There is sin in the doing.<br> -Oh, see how the mother her child is pursuing!<br> -She smites him unknowing. Oh, mother, blind mother,<br> -Thy son thou hast slain--not the son of another!<br> -The deed thou hast done bodes a life-time of rueing;<br> -Thy son thou hast slaughtered, as Cain did his brother!"</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>It was on Friday morning that Mrs. Belk had her fatal interview with -Maxwell--fatal indeed to her son, to benefit whom that same interview -had been sought for. Had she not been of such a secretive disposition -she would have told Samson of the finding of the jewel and how she -intended to obtain money thereon as a clue to the assassin of Sir -Rupert, in which case he would doubtless have prevented her doing so.</p> - -<p>Anxious, however, to surprise Samson with a piece of good news, she -had refrained from taking him into her confidence, and thus -inadvertently placed him in a situation of extreme peril. Ignorant of -this, however, she left Maxwell with the fifty pounds in her purse and -joy in her heart, thinking she could now give her son a chance of -making money by his physical strength. Determined to see for herself -what rivals he would have in the event of his entering the arena as "a -strong man," on Friday night she went to Totahoop's Music Hall, where -"The New Milo" was exhibiting his world renowned feats of strength. -After witnessing his performance, she was satisfied that her son had -nothing to fear in the way of comparison, and on Saturday night went -to a rival variety entertainment to see "The Modern Hercules." This -gentleman, in Mrs. Belk's opinion proved equally disappointing; so the -next day, which was Sunday, she departed for Deswarth with the full -conviction that her son, aided by the fifty pounds obtained from -Maxwell, would only have to appear before a London audience to easily -distance both the Milo and the Hercules.</p> - -<p>She went down by the morning train, but on arriving at her cottage -found that Samson had gone to a town some distance away on an errand -for Sir Thomas, his new master, and would not be back again until the -afternoon. Under these circumstances she was forced to curb her -impatience and wait some hours before she could reveal the good news -to her son.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, as fate was thus delaying the warning to Samson which such -a revelation would have brought about, Archie Maxwell, accompanied by -Mrs. Belswin and her Italian friend, had arrived at The Chequers, from -whence they intended to go to Belk's cottage and demand an explanation -from him as to the discovery of the scarf-pin on the terrace at -Thornstream. Confronted with the landlord of The Chequers, Signor -Ferrari had no difficulty in proving to Maxwell that he was in the -house at ten o'clock on that fatal night, and as the doctor at the -inquest had asserted that Sir Rupert had been shot shortly before -eleven, Maxwell was forced to believe by this circumstantial evidence -that Ferrari was innocent of the crime. Mrs. Belswin had also recalled -to the young man's mind her evidence at the inquest, so he could not -possibly suspect her in any way, therefore to all appearances Belk was -the only person to whom suspicion pointed in any strong degree. This -being the case, after the interview with the landlord of The Chequers, -Mr. Maxwell and his two friends set off to Belk's cottage, where Mrs. -Belk was now impatiently awaiting the arrival of her son.</p> - -<p>It seemed to Mrs. Belswin, superstitious as she was in the highest -degree, that Fortune was dead against her in every way. Firstly, she -had been beaten on every point by Silas Oates; secondly, it was only -by the merest chance that she had been able to conceal her identity -from Maxwell, in the matter of his accusation against Ferrari, and now -she was afraid of Samson Belk. Afraid, because the finding of the -scarf-pin proved conclusively that he was on the terrace on that -night, in which case he might have overheard her interview with Sir -Rupert. If this was the case, in order to save himself he would -certainly tell Archie all he knew, and she would be lost. There was no -time to see and warn him as she had done Ferrari, so she walked on to -the cottage with a set smile on her face and a deadly fear in her -heart.</p> - -<p>On their arrival, Mrs. Belk opened the door, and was very much -surprised at such an invasion. However, she said nothing, but, -standing in her doorway, waited for an explanation of their visit.</p> - -<p>"Is your son at home, Mrs. Belk," asked Maxwell, abruptly.</p> - -<p>"No, sir," replied Mrs. Belk, dropping a curtsey, "but I'm expecting -him every minute."</p> - -<p>"Oh, in that case we'll wait."</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir, certainly!"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belk moved unwillingly on one side, as she was in a state of -considerable mystification as to the reason of Mr. Maxwell's -unexpected arrival; and they all entered the cottage. The little woman -gave them seats, and then stood waiting to hear what they had to say. -Maxwell's business, however, was with Samson Belk, and not with his -mother, so he preserved a masterly silence, in order to give her no -opportunity of finding out his errand, and perhaps, by a look, putting -her son on his guard.</p> - -<p>"I hope nothing is wrong about the money, sir," said Mrs. Belk, after -a long pause.</p> - -<p>"No! that is all right."</p> - -<p>"Have you found out anything, sir?"</p> - -<p>"You mean about the scarf-pin?" said Maxwell, evasively.</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Maxwell has found out the owner of it," interposed Mrs. Belswin, -coldly.</p> - -<p>"I am the owner," said Ferrari, complacently.</p> - -<p>"You?" cried Mrs. Belk, with a sudden flush on her face; "you, sir?"</p> - -<p>"Even I, signora!"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belk felt quite taken back. She was quite sure that the owner of -the scarf-pin had killed Sir Rupert, yet, here he was, calmly -acknowledging that it belonged to him, which he certainly would not do -if he were guilty. The little woman looked from Ferrari to Maxwell, -from Maxwell to Mrs. Belswin; and saw in their eyes the same -expression---a look of pity. A sudden thrill of fear shot through her -heart, and she turned towards Maxwell with a cry of alarm.</p> - -<p>"Sir! Sir!" she stammered, nervously, "what does this mean?--why do -you come here?"</p> - -<p>"We want to see your son, Mrs. Belk."</p> - -<p>"My son, sir? Is anything wrong? Oh, tell me, sir, Samson has been -doing nothing wrong?"</p> - -<p>None of the three persons present answered her, so filled were their -hearts with pity for her coming agony.</p> - -<p>"Is it anything to do with the diamond, sir?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"Oh!" cried Mrs. Belk, with an expression of relief on her face, -"perhaps you think my son stole it?"</p> - -<p>"Your son," said Mrs. Belswin, quickly. "Did he have that scarf-pin in -his possession?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belk faced round fiercely.</p> - -<p>"No ma'am; he knows nothing about it."</p> - -<p>"Ebbene," murmured the Italian; "we shall see."</p> - -<p>"What do you say, sir?"</p> - -<p>"I say," replied Ferrari, coolly, "that the scarf-pin was mine, and I -gave it to--to--your son."</p> - -<p>"To my son," shrieked Mrs. Belk, her pale face growing yet paler; "but -I found the diamond on the terrace."</p> - -<p>"Per Bacco! Who loses finds."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belk kept silent for a moment, overwhelmed by the thought of the -perilous position in which she had placed her son, for in a single -instant she saw all; then, staggering against the wall, she gave a cry -which was scarcely human in its agony.</p> - -<p>Scarcely had it died away, when hurried footsteps were heard, and the -door was dashed open to admit Samson Belk, with a look of astonishment -on his face.</p> - -<p>"Mother! what is the matter? Mrs. Belswin?"</p> - -<p>"Yes!" said Mrs. Belswin, advancing a step, "we have come----"</p> - -<p>The mother saw the movement, and with a shriek of jealous rage, darted -between them, and flung herself into her son's arms.</p> - -<p>"Yes, my son, yes!" she cried, convulsively; "they have come to kill -you! to hang you!"</p> - -<p>"Mother!"</p> - -<p>"They say you killed the master."</p> - -<p>"It's a lie!"</p> - -<p>Samson Belk placed his mother in a chair, where she sat in a -half-fainting condition, and turned fiercely towards the two men, like -a lion at bay.</p> - -<p>"Now then," he said--his habitually slow voice, sharp and -quick--"what's all this?"</p> - -<p>Maxwell held out his hand, and in the palm of it lay the diamond -scarf-pin.</p> - -<p>"Do you know this?" he demanded, slowly.</p> - -<p>Belk gave a mighty laugh of scorn.</p> - -<p>"Know it? Yes, I know it. 'Tis the diamond I got from yonder chap."</p> - -<p>"You acknowledge that he gave it to you, then?"</p> - -<p>"Of course! Why shouldn't I?"</p> - -<p>"Because I found it on the terrace, Samson," cried his mother, madly.</p> - -<p>"Well, what of that; I lost it there, mother!"</p> - -<p>"When did you lose it?" asked Maxwell, quickly.</p> - -<p>Belk thought a moment, and then started as the full meaning of this -interrogation flashed across his dull brain.</p> - -<p>"Eh! then you chaps say I killed Sir Rupert."</p> - -<p>"We do not say so," said Maxwell, emphatically; "we only say that this -diamond scarf-pin, which you acknowledge to have had in your -possession, was found near the window where the body was lying."</p> - -<p>"And that pin hangs me, sir?"</p> - -<p>"Not if you can account satisfactorily for its being there."</p> - -<p>"You ain't got the police, sir."</p> - -<p>"No!"</p> - -<p>"Samson! Samson!" wailed his mother, clinging to him, "say it was not -you killed the master!"</p> - -<p>"Quiet, mother!" said her son, replacing her in the chair, "I can tell -my own story."</p> - -<p>"You are innocent?" asked Mrs. Belswin, impulsively.</p> - -<p>"Innocent!" repeated Belk, with scorn, "if I wasn't I'd have been off -to the States by this time. Sit down, gentlemen: sit down, madam, I -can tell you the truth."</p> - -<p>All resumed their seats mechanically; but Belk leaned his mighty frame -against the wall and looked at them quietly. From Ferrari his eyes -wandered to Maxwell, and finally rested on Mrs. Belswin with a curious -expression, at which she turned pale.</p> - -<p>"My God!" she murmured, clasping her hands tightly, "what is he going -to say?"</p> - -<p>Belk guessed her thoughts, and reassured her at once.</p> - -<p>"My story's only about myself," he said, abruptly looking at her -again, upon which she thanked him with a silent look of gratitude, -although she felt a thrill of fear at the thought that perhaps he knew -her secret.</p> - -<p>"One word before you speak," said Maxwell, quietly. "As you know, I am -going to marry Miss Pethram, and I promised her to find out the -assassin of her father. Chance, in the person of your mother, placed -in my hands a clue which led me to believe that Signor Ferrari had -something to do with the crime----"</p> - -<p>"Cospetto! what honour."</p> - -<p>"Signor Ferrari, however," resumed Archie, quietly, "has proved his -innocence, and in order to do so has unintentionally made out a very -strong case against you, Mr. Belk. Whether you are guilty or not I do -not know; but, you see, I have not informed the police about anything -connected with the matter."</p> - -<p>"And why, sir?"</p> - -<p>"Because the clue was placed in my hands by your mother, and I would -not have it on my conscience, however guilty you may be, to take -advantage of the innocent betrayal of a son by his mother."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belk sobbed violently at this, and Belk, with a sudden flush, -held out his hand, but drew it back at once.</p> - -<p>"No, sir," he said, bluffly, "I won't give you my hand yet, till -you've heard my story. I did get that diamond from the foreign gent as -he says. He was trespassing, and I could have made things hot for him, -but to get off he gave me the diamond."</p> - -<p>"Do you think that was right, seeing Signor Ferrari is a foreigner and -ignorant of English laws?" asked Maxwell.</p> - -<p>"I don't say it was right, sir," replied Belk with a queer look; "and -it was not altogether the trespass. There was something else I need -not tell you of that made me take his diamond."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin darted a sudden look on both men, who were eyeing her -jealously, and flushed a deep red; but Maxwell was so interested in -Belk's story that he did not notice her perturbation, and signed to -him to continue.</p> - -<p>"Well, sir, I stuck the pin in my scarf careless like, as I was in a -hurry to go up to the Hall to see Sir Rupert."</p> - -<p>"What hour was this."</p> - -<p>"About four o'clock, sir. I went up to the Hall, and Sir Rupert, sir, -he was in his study; so instead of going in by the door, I went in by -the window."</p> - -<p>"So you first went along the terrace?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir! And as the pin was stuck in careless, I suppose it fell as -I went into the room by the window."</p> - -<p>"Not impossible!" said Maxwell, thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>"I saw Sir Rupert, took my orders, and then came home, sir, and didn't -go out again that night."</p> - -<p>"Eh!" cried Mrs. Belk, starting up, "no more you did, lad; I can swear -to that."</p> - -<p>"And so can Mr. Gelthrip, the parson, sir," said Belk, triumphantly. -"He called here in the evening, and I saw him. So you see, sir, as I -didn't go near the Hall until the next morning, I didn't have nought -to do with the killing."</p> - -<p>"No; certainly not."</p> - -<p>Maxwell heaved a sigh of relief at the turn things had taken, for if -both Mrs. Belk and the curate could prove that Samson had been at home -on that fatal night, the young man certainly could not be guilty. -Meanwhile, he wanted to get away and think the matter over; for what -with the story of Ferrari and the story of Belk, he was quite -bewildered.</p> - -<p>"So my Samson is innocent," cried Mrs. Belk, triumphantly.</p> - -<p>"Yes, and I'm glad to hear it," replied Maxwell, as he went out. -"Good-bye, Mrs. Belk, I'm pleased on your account, but sorry on my -own."</p> - -<p>"Ebbene! but who killed Il----I am talking of Seer Rupert," cried -Ferrari, putting on his hat.</p> - -<p>Belk shrugged his shoulders.</p> - -<p>"I don't know," he replied, nonchalantly; "the master had lots of -enemies, I reckon."</p> - -<p>"Belk," cried Maxwell, overhearing this, "come to The Chequers -to-night, I want to speak to you."</p> - -<p>"Very well, sir."</p> - -<p>"You are not coming up to town with us then, Mr. Maxwell?" said Mrs. -Belswin, who was lingering behind.</p> - -<p>"No! I wish to ask Belk some questions about Sir Rupert's enemies. -From what he says, it appears he had some, and Belk knows them."</p> - -<p>Maxwell and Ferrari both went down to the gate, and Mrs. Belswin was -left alone with Samson, the mother still being in the house.</p> - -<p>"Don't go," she said, in a low tone.</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes, I'll go," he replied in the same tone, "I tell nothing."</p> - -<p>"What?" she said, uneasily; "do you know anything?"</p> - -<p>Belk looked at her with his languid eyes, and stroked his golden beard -slowly.</p> - -<p>"I know what I know," he replied emphatically, and with this reply, -which roused all her suspicions, Mrs. Belswin was forced to be -content.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_32" href="#div1Ref_32">CHAPTER XXXII.</a></h4> -<h5>NEWS FROM AUSTRALIA.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:15%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-7px"> -'Neath the shining southern cross,<br> -News of gain and news of loss,<br> -Silver veining hidden rocks<br> -Changes hourly shares and stocks:<br> -By the magic power of shares,<br> -Paupers turn to millionaires--<br> -Millionaires to paupers change;<br> -Transformation swift and strange.<br> -Genii, no, nor fairy kings<br> -Could not do such wond'rous things<br> -As are daily done by scores,<br> -On Australia's golden shores.</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>What passed between Maxwell and Samson Belk at their interview, Mrs. -Belswin could never discover; but as Archie did not in any way change -his manner towards her she was satisfied that her name had not -transpired during the conversation, or if it had, Belk had said -nothing detrimental to her in any way. As to Belk himself, she saw him -when he came up to London, but he refused to tell her whether he had -overheard the conversation between herself and Sir Rupert, and she was -therefore forced to remain in a constant state of uneasiness. Although -Belk denied that he had been out of the house after his return from -the four o'clock interview, and supported this assertion by the -evidence of his mother and the curate, yet Mrs. Belswin had a kind of -half suspicion that he had been on the terrace on the night in -question, and had heard more than he was willing to confess. But, -then, she argued to herself that, if this were the case, he would -certainly use his power over her to force her into marriage with him, -whereas he did nothing of the sort, but behaved as if he knew -absolutely nothing.</p> - -<p>It was now three months since the famous interview at the Belk -cottage, and Samson had carried out the plan proposed by his mother. -He had appeared at a first-class music hall as the "Nineteenth Century -Samson," and, by his superior strength, had easily distanced his -rivals, both "The New Milo" and "The Modern Hercules." They, of -course, were furious at being eclipsed, but his mother was delighted -with his success; the music hall manager was charmed at the crowds -drawn by his new star, and perhaps the only person not thoroughly -happy was the star himself. The reason of this discontent was, that in -order to preserve his strength, he had to lead a very abstemious life, -both as regards food and drink, so that, although he was making a -large income, he was not enjoying it. Despite his discontent, however, -he still led his life of an ascetic, and saved all his money, which -was a marked contrast to his former extravagant ways; but then, he had -a purpose in economising, and the purpose was Mrs. Belswin, whom he -had made up his mind to marry, as soon as he was rich enough.</p> - -<p>In the meantime, that lady was leading a sufficiently comfortable -life, as, when she ran short of money, she always drew on Dombrain, -who did not dare to refuse it to her. Kaituna still lived with her, -and, as some time had elapsed since the death of her father, she had -recovered nearly all her former vivacity, and was looking anxiously -forward to her marriage with Archie--a marriage which was soon to take -place, owing to the good news from Australia about the Pole Star -Silver Mine.</p> - -<p>Toby Clendon had duly arrived in the land of the Southern Cross, and -had sent home brilliantly written letters of his travels, which -satisfied the editor, and delighted the readers of <i>The Weekly -Scorpion</i>, In addition to this excellent literary work, which, by the -way, was giving him a name in journalistic circles, he had made -inquiries about the Pole Star Mine, and although the information he -obtained was disheartening enough at first, yet, after a time the Pole -Star silver shares began to be inquired about, and in a few weeks were -actually worth money.</p> - -<p>Archie, who had benefited by his mining experiences in the colony, -and, moreover, had made friends with an enterprising share broker, who -was, as they say "in the know," sent to Kaituna for the scrip lying in -the hands of Dombrain. After some difficulty, Archie, who acted as her -agent, obtained it from the unwilling Dombrain, and sent all the -scrip, to the value of two thousand shares, out to Toby, with a power -of attorney authorising him to deal with them as he judged best.</p> - -<p>Acting by the advice of his stockbroker, Toby judged it best to hold -the scrip, as the shares were on the rise, and in a few days his -confidence in the mine was justified. A lode was discovered in the -Pole Star ground, which was said to rival the celebrated Comstock lode -in California, which sent all 'Frisco mad in the old days, and the -shares began to rise rapidly, so rapidly indeed, that Toby was -justified in thinking that Kaituna would be a great heiress after all. -They went from nothing up to twenty pounds a share; again by slow -gradations they rose to fifty pounds each, and Toby wanted to sell, -but his stockbroker still advised him to hold. In a month they were -worth one hundred pounds each, and Toby still held on. The excitement -in Melbourne was intense, and other silver mining companies began to -spring round the famous Pole Star, in several of which Toby invested -the salary he drew from <i>The Weekly Scorpion</i>. The surrounding mines -were very fluctuating in the share market, but the Pole Star itself -never faltered for a moment in its upward career, and at the end of -three months, Toby wired to Maxwell that the shares were now worth the -enormous value of two hundred pounds each.</p> - -<p>Maxwell, in a state of great excitement, consulted Mrs. Belswin and -Kaituna, and they, considering that a bird in the hand was worth two -in the bush, decided to sell at that price. Instructions were wired -out to Clendon to realise without delay, which he did carefully by -selling the shares in parcels, as two thousand thrown on the market, -for no apparent cause, would have caused a drop in the price. The -selling took some time; but at the end of a month or so the whole two -thousand were disposed of, and the amount standing to the credit of -Miss Kaituna Pethram in The Bank of Australia was somewhere about four -hundred thousand pounds, which was certainly a very respectable -fortune for a girl formerly penniless.</p> - -<p>Kaituna herself was wild with joy, and wanted to marry Maxwell at -once; but, strange to say, he that had urged on the marriage when she -was poor, now held back, lest it should be said he was marrying her -for her money. Mrs. Belswin, however, promptly settled all that, and -talked him over into getting married at once. Then a letter was -received from Toby, saying that he also had been successful in mining -speculations to the amount of some thousands, and was on his way home -to Miss Valpy and matrimony.</p> - -<p>Ultimately the two girls decided that they would be married in the -same way, and Archie felt deeply grateful that things had turned out -so well; while Mrs. Belswin, confident now that Kaituna's happiness -was secured, both as regards income and marriage, looked upon her -life's work as over.</p> - -<p>Of course she had to reckon with Ferrari who still urged her to marry -him; and as she had told Archie that she was engaged to the Italian, -she did not very well see how she was going to escape this match, -which was decidedly repugnant to her, as it separated her from her -child, and gave her to a man for whom she cared nothing. Belk also -hinted that his intentions were matrimonial as soon as he had amassed -sufficient money; so Mrs. Belswin lamented the good looks which had -placed her between two matrimonial fires. While she was in this -unpleasant situation, Fate, in the person of Mr. Dombrain, intervened -and decided the question in a highly unpleasant manner.</p> - -<p>After his failure to convict Ferrari and Belk of the crime of murder, -Archie had quite given up the idea of finding out the assassin; and -Kaituna began to think that he would never be discovered. She proposed -to Archie when they were married, to devote their newly gained wealth -to seeking out the cowardly assassin; but Maxwell, who had grave -doubts about Mrs. Belswin, Ferrari, and Belk, endeavoured to dissuade -her. It will be said that if Maxwell had doubts like this, why did he -permit Kaituna to remain with the companion? But the fact is, all his -doubts were very undecided. He could not accuse Mrs. Belswin, as he -had no evidence to go on, so he was forced to remain quiet and let -things take their course.</p> - -<p>In the acquirement of the money through the Pole Star Mine, in -thinking of the double marriage soon to take place, the death of Sir -Rupert was beginning to be almost forgotten, when suddenly it was -brought to the minds of all interested by a terrible event.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin was arrested on a charge of having committed the murder.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_33" href="#div1Ref_33">CHAPTER XXXIII.</a></h4> -<h5>MR. DOMBRAIN SHOWS HIS TEETH.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:10%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1">An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth--<br> -That, as I take it, is Bible-truth.<br> -You have robbed me of my good name;<br> -I will bring you to want and shame.<br> -Both are wicked, so both shall fall--<br> -God in His Heaven shall judge of it all.</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>Mrs. Belswin brought it all on herself. She would play with fire, and -although a life-long experience had taught her how dangerous was that -pastime, she nevertheless indulged in it, even at the risk of burning -her fingers. Indeed, so many times had she rushed into danger in her -fierce, impulsive way, and so many times had she emerged scatheless by -sheer good luck, that she became reckless in her daring, and at last -the inevitable happened--she went too far.</p> - -<p>Everything was now progressing smoothly, both with herself and with -those she loved. Kaituna had received an unexpected access of fortune, -so that the difficulties of her marriage with Archie Maxwell were now -removed by the power of gold; and Mrs. Belswin herself, living -constantly with her darling, had now nothing left to wish for.</p> - -<p>Yes! there was one thing she desired, and that was to see Silas Oates, -in order to taunt him with the news of her good fortune. It was sheer -devilry made her do this, as she cared nothing for her old lover; but -some fiend having whispered in her ear that good fortune to her would -be gall and wormwood to the American, she one day went straight to the -Langham Hotel, in order to enjoy her triumph. Luckily for himself, -Oates was absent in Paris at the time, where he had gone on a matter -of business; but on his return he found Mrs. Belswin's card, and -naturally enough being ignorant of her real object in paying him a -visit, thought she had called for the sole purpose of getting more -money out of him.</p> - -<p>Silas Oates, in a most unjust fashion, did not blame his quondam -lady-love for her persistency, knowing her real nature too well to -expect anything from her; but he blamed Mr. Dombrain for not keeping -his promise, and making Mrs. Belswin stop her pecuniary importunities.</p> - -<p>The lady herself had entirely forgotten Mr. Dombrain and his threats, -or if she did remember them it was with a contemptuous sneer, as she -thought in her own heart that he could do nothing to harm her. But if -Mrs. Belswin thus proved forgetful of the solicitor, Silas Oates did -not. Mr. Oates was genuinely angry at the way Dombrain permitted Mrs. -Belswin to annoy him, so, as the unfortunate lawyer had omitted to -fulfil his promise of acting as watch-dog, the American determined to -punish him as he had threatened for his negligence.</p> - -<p>Silas went about the affair in a way peculiarly his own, and in a very -few days Mr. Dombrain received a letter demanding an explanation of -certain allegations concerning his past made against him by an -American gentleman. The unfortunate man was quite stunned at the -suddenness of his calamity; nor was he comforted when a spiteful note -arrived from Silas, which stated that he had revealed everything about -the convict Damberton to the Law Society, as a punishment for the -negligence of the lawyer Dombrain. Of course the poor wretch could not -defend himself, although he made a feeble attempt to do so; and the -consequence of Mrs. Belswin's folly and Mr. Oates's letter was, that -Alfred Dombrain of London, Solicitor, was struck off the rolls, as not -fit to have his name inscribed thereon.</p> - -<p>It was truly a terrible thing to happen to this man, who, not having -saved much money, now found himself reduced from an honourable -profession, which gained him a competence, to a disgraceful position -and absolute beggary. The loss of his money troubled him but little, -the loss of his name a great deal, for having once more regained the -esteem of his fellow-men by years of exemplary life, he felt keenly -the bitterness of being reduced to the same ignoble position he had -occupied years before. He tried every means in his power to escape the -disgrace, but the Law Society were relentless, and Dombrain, lawyer, -once more became that phantom of the past--Damberton, outcast.</p> - -<p>Neither lawyer nor outcast, however, were satisfied to accept this -crushing blow without making some return thereto; and when Mr. -Dombrain found that all his ideas of respectability were at an end, he -turned round venomously to punish Mrs. Belswin, whom he considered to -be the main cause of his unmerited disgrace. He did not write to her, -he did not see her, he did not even mention her name to a soul, but he -went straight to the nearest police magistrate, told his story of what -had taken place at Thornstream on that fatal night, and, as a result, -obtained a warrant of arrest against Mrs. Belswin for the murder of -Sir Rupert Pethram. This being done, he departed, in company with two -detectives, to feast his eyes on the disgrace of this woman, who had -cost him his hardly earned position; and for the first time for many -days he laughed--not a pleasant laugh, but a nasty, sardonic, sneering -laugh, which boded ill to the liberty and peace of mind of Jezebel -Manners, alias Lady Pethram, alias Mrs. Belswin. In spite of the -tragic force of the whole matter, there was something positively -grotesque in the situation; for Silas Oates wronged by Mrs. Belswin, -had revenged himself upon Mr. Dombrain; and Mr. Dombrain wronged by -Silas Oates, had revenged himself upon Mrs. Belswin. It was a -three-cornered duel, to speak paradoxically, in which every one shot -at every one else, but the only person of the three principals who -came off scot-free was the American, and he appreciated the grim irony -of the situation.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Mrs. Belswin, quite unaware how dearly her attempt to see -Oates had cost her, was seated in company with Kaituna and Archie -Maxwell at afternoon tea, and the trio were talking about the Pole -Star shares, the expected arrival of Toby Clendon, and, of course, -about the approaching marriages.</p> - -<p>"And you will be perfectly happy, Kaituna," said Mrs. Belswin, looking -wistfully at her daughter--the daughter whom she dare not acknowledge.</p> - -<p>Kaituna caught hold of Archie's hand, with a quick flush and a look of -delight in her large black eyes.</p> - -<p>"Yes, perfectly happy," she replied, smiling. "We are going to be the -Darby and Joan of romance, are we not, Archie?"</p> - -<p>"I trust so, dear; but Darby and Joan! Oh, what a prosaic comparison. -No! Kaituna we will be--let me think--we will be like Lord Lovel and -Lady Nancy Bell in the old ballad."</p> - -<p>"Fie, that is a worse comparison than mine! They were unhappy, and if -a red rose and a briar did grow out of their respective graves, I -don't know that such a miracle proves your case."</p> - -<p>"Well, you certainly ought to be happy," said Mrs. Belswin, with a -quick sigh, as she realised how soon she was to lose the girl she -loved. "Health, wealth, and love--what a trinity of perfections."</p> - -<p>"All of which are to be found in Kaituna. But you, Mrs. Belswin, what -about Signor Ferrari?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, I have not made up my mind yet to marry him, Mr. Maxwell; -besides, I have another offer."</p> - -<p>"Another offer?" cried Kaituna, gaily. "Oh, fortunate woman; and from -whom?"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Samson Belk."</p> - -<p>"Oh!" said Maxwell, smiling, "he is the other Romeo in the field. -Well, he is certainly very handsome----"</p> - -<p>"And is very fond of me," interrupted Mrs. Belswin, quickly. "But all -the same I am not for him."</p> - -<p>"Nor for Signor Ferrari either?" laughed Kaituna, going over to her -chaperon and putting her arms round her neck. "Ah, there is a third -person."</p> - -<p>"I think you can pretty well guess whom that third person is," said -Mrs. Belswin, kissing the girl; "but Mr. Maxwell is going to rob me of -my third person."</p> - -<p>"I cannot deny the soft impeachment," replied Archie, with a gay nod. -"As soon as Toby comes home we will be married."</p> - -<p>The talk was certainly frivolous; but then, after all the trials these -three people had undergone, it was a great relief to chatter idly in a -desultory manner, especially when all three beheld the brightness of -the future. For them the storms and trials of life had passed--so they -fondly thought; and the elder woman, looking back at the dismal past, -thanked God in her heart for the peaceful present, while the lovers -saw before them nothing but a shining path, strewn with roses, leading -to the paradise of perfect felicity.</p> - -<p>At this moment a knock came at the door, and the servant entered with -a frightened look on her face.</p> - -<p>"Oh, mum," she said, going quickly to Mrs. Belswin, "there are three -gentleman to see you."</p> - -<p>"Who are they?" asked Mrs. Belswin, in some surprise, never thinking -for a moment of the coming storm.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Dombrain, mum, and----"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Dombrain," repeated Mrs. Belswin, with a chill of fear at her -heart; "what does he want?"</p> - -<p>"I want you, Jezebel Manners," said Dombrain, making his appearance at -the door, with a malignant grin on his coarse red face.</p> - -<p>The moment she heard the name Mrs. Belswin knew it was all over, and -with a cry of agony held out her imploring hands to the lawyer.</p> - -<p>"Oh, not before her! not before her!" she moaned piteously.</p> - -<p>Kaituna, overcome with astonishment at this strange scene, went up to -Mrs. Belswin as if to protect her, but the woman shrank from her with -a moan of pain, and hid her face in her hands.</p> - -<p>"What does this mean?" demanded Maxwell, as soon as he recovered his -breath.</p> - -<p>"You will soon know," retorted Dombrain, savagely. "Jezebel Manners, -Pethram, Belswin, or whatever name you like to call yourself, I warned -you the last time we met what I would do if you played me false. You -have done so, to my ruin, my shame, my disgrace, and I have come to -drag you down to where you have hurled me. This is the woman, -officers."</p> - -<p>One of the detectives advanced and touched Mrs. Belswin on the -shoulder.</p> - -<p>"In the Queen's name, I arrest you----"</p> - -<p>"Arrest her?" interrupted Kaituna, her face flaming with indignation; -"but for what--for what?"</p> - -<p>"For the murder of Rupert Pethram."</p> - -<p>Kaituna gave a shriek of horror, and seized Maxwell by the arm, while -he, scarcely less thunderstruck, stared at the detective with a look -of amazement on his face.</p> - -<p>"It is false! it is false!" shrieked Mrs. Belswin, throwing herself on -her knees before Kaituna, "I swear to you it is false. I did not kill -your father."</p> - -<p>"You did," said Dombrain, in a deep voice, "I saw you do it!"</p> - -<p>"Liar!"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin sprang to her feet and made a bound forward, with a -fierce light flashing in her eyes, and it would have been a bad thing -for Mr. Dombrain had she succeeded in reaching him. The detective, -however, was on the watch, and throwing himself on the wretched woman, -had the handcuffs on her wrists in a moment.</p> - -<p>"I cannot believe it! I cannot believe it!" moaned Kaituna, hiding her -face on Maxwell's breast.--"Mrs. Belswin, my kind good friend----"</p> - -<p>"Your friend," scoffed Dombrain, with an ugly glitter in his -ferret-like eyes. "Yes, you don't know who your friend is!"</p> - -<p>"For God's sake, silence!" shrieked Mrs. Belswin, pale to the lips.</p> - -<p>"No, I will not keep silence, you fiend, who have ruined me. I will -tell all. Miss Pethram, do you see that wretched woman with the -handcuffs on--that guilty wretch who murdered your father, that----"</p> - -<p>"I see Mrs. Belswin," cried Kaituna, with sudden fire; "I see the -woman who saved me from starvation, and I do not believe this base -charge you make."</p> - -<p>With noble indignation she walked across to Mrs. Belswin, and threw -her arm round the poor woman's neck, while Archie, who respected and -liked the companion, mutely approved of the girl's generous action.</p> - -<p>"Ah, you put your arm on her neck now," said Dombrain, with a sneer, -"but you will take it away when you know----"</p> - -<p>"Dombrain!" cried the wretched woman, for the last time, "spare -me--spare me!"</p> - -<p>"I will spare you as you have spared me."</p> - -<p>"Be silent, with your cowardly threats, sir," said Kaituna, looking -proudly at him, "and do your worst. Who is Mrs. Belswin?"</p> - -<p>"Your mother!"</p> - -<p>Kaituna gave a cry, and recoiled from her companion.</p> - -<p>"My mother!" she said, hoarsely. "It cannot be! my mother is dead."</p> - -<p>Dombrain played his trump card.</p> - -<p>"Your mother is alive! She stands there, and you can now know her for -what she is--a guilty wife--a divorced woman--and the murderer of her -husband."</p> - -<p>Kaituna gazed at this gibing devil with a terrified stare in her -dilated eyes, then turned slowly and looked at her miserable mother. -The unhappy woman, with a grey worn face, haggard and scarred with -myriad wrinkles, made a step forward, as if to embrace her child, but -the girl, with a look of terror, shrank back, and fell in a faint on -the floor at the feet of Maxwell, while Mrs. Belswin sank on her knees -with a piteous cry, wringing her manacled hands over the unconscious -form of the daughter she had found--and lost.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_34" href="#div1Ref_34">CHAPTER XXXIV.</a></h4> -<h5>IN OPEN COURT.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1">Who's sure of Life's game,</p> -<p class="t2">When Fate interferes?</p> -<p class="t1">For praise or for blame,</p> -<p class="t2">Who's sure of life's game?</p> -<p class="t1">A sentence--a name,</p> -<p class="t2">Turns joy into tears,</p> -<p class="t1">Who's sure of Life's game,</p> -<p class="t2">When Fate interferes?</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>This strange case--particulars of which in some mysterious way got -into the daily papers--excited much curiosity in London, and when the -preliminary inquiry into the affair took place, the court was crowded -to suffocation. The public, of course, learned all about the matter -from the newspapers, but how the reporters managed to learn so much -was most extraordinary, as they gave an account of Mrs. Belswin's -previous life--of her presence, under a false name, in the house of -her late husband--of the murder of that husband--and of the wonderful -amount of money realised by the sale of the Pole Star shares for the -daughter of the murdered man, and the woman accused of the crime. All -this, more or less garbled and exaggerated, appeared in the leading -morning papers, and the "Pethram Paradox"--so it was called--took a -prominent place among the sensations of the day. Maxwell, deeply -angered at this publicity, which would make the public judge Mrs. -Belswin guilty, before she had a chance of defending herself, made -several attempts to find Dombrain, whom he suspected of being the -author of this malignant gossip in order to damage the chance of the -unfortunate woman during her trial, but Mr. Dombrain, suspecting that -he would be looked for, made himself scarce, and until the day of the -preliminary inquiry, nothing was seen or heard of him by those on the -side of Mrs. Belswin.</p> - -<p>Kaituna, noble-hearted girl as she was, persistently refused to -believe her mother guilty; and, through Maxwell engaged the most -prominent legal talent of the day for her defence; but although she -sought an interview with Mrs. Belswin in jail, the unhappy woman -persistently refused to see her until she was publicly proved innocent -of the terrible crime laid to her charge. At this trying time Archie -Maxwell proved himself worthy of the high opinion entertained of him -by Kaituna, and acting as Mrs. Belswin's friend did everything in his -power to assist her during the coming ordeal. Signor Ferrari too, mad -with impulsive Italian wrath at the accusation made by Mr. Dombrain, -offered himself as a witness; but on discovering that his evidence -would be detrimental to Mrs. Belswin's defence, the lawyer declined to -take advantage of his offer. As for Belk, whom Maxwell thought would -be one of the first to come forward and help the unhappy woman he -professed to love, he kept persistently out of the way, and neither by -word nor deed showed that he took the least interest in her fate. When -the day of the preliminary inquiry therefore came, Mrs. Belswin was -left with only three friends who believed in her innocence--Kaituna, -Maxwell, and Ferrari, who were all present in court when she was -placed in the prisoner's dock.</p> - -<p>She looked terribly pale and haggard, for Mrs. Belswin, having one of -those natures which are only strong through impulse, was quite unable -to bear up against the calamity which had befallen her. All her -fierceness, her iron nerve, her reckless daring, which had -successfully coped with so many perils, had now deserted her; for this -blow, so long dreaded, having descended, she seemed unable to fight -against it, and stood silently in the dock, a pale weeping woman, -quite unlike the Borgia-like creature of other days. The follower of -Mahomet will fight bravely as long as fortune goes with him; but when -the tide turns and he believes that it is the will of Allah that evil -should befall him, he says Kismet, and bows to the decree of Heaven. -Mrs. Belswin behaved in exactly the same way--she had fought bravely -against overwhelming odds to keep her daughter and her secret, but now -that the worst had come she thought it useless to struggle against -destiny, so resigned herself to the inevitable.</p> - -<p>The counsel for the prosecution stated that this was one of the most -painful cases that had ever come under his notice. It would be -remembered that some months previously the public had been horrified -to hear of the murder of Sir Rupert Pethram, of Thornstream, -Berkshire; who had been shot while standing at the window of his -study. In spite of the utmost vigilance of the police the person who -had committed this dastardly crime could not be discovered; but now, -by the evidence of Mr. Alfred Dombrain, the prisoner was accused of -being the guilty person. The chain of circumstances which culminated -in the committal of this crime were so extraordinary that he would -take leave to inform the court of the whole affair, and the motive for -the murder would be clearly proved against the prisoner. It appears -that many years ago the deceased baronet--who at that time had not -succeeded to the title--had married in New Zealand, where he was then -living, the prisoner, Jezebel Manners, who was a half-caste, the -daughter of a Maori mother and a European father, a woman of violent -and rash temper. One child was born of the marriage, which turned out -to be very unhappy; and eventually Mrs. Pethram eloped with an -American, called Silas Oates. The late baronet obtained a decree -absolute against her, and remained in New Zealand, where he looked -after the welfare of his motherless child, while his divorced wife -went to San Francisco with the co-respondent Oates. The divorced woman -and her lover were together for some time; but he ultimately left her, -evidently being quite unable to bear with her outrageous temper. The -prisoner then went on the stage, and sang successfully in opera for -many years under the name of Madame Tagni. Finally, about eight months -previously, she came to England, and found that her husband, by the -death of his brother, had succeeded to the title, and was living at -Thornstream, in Berkshire, with his daughter Kaituna.</p> - -<p>The prisoner, anxious to see her child again concocted a scheme by -which to enter the house as a companion to Miss Pethram. Sir Rupert -had gone out to New Zealand on business, and, according to his -instructions, Mr. Dombrain advertised for a companion for Miss Pethram -during his absence. The prisoner applied, and was engaged for the -situation by Mr. Dombrain, who was quite in ignorance of her -antecedents, and her connection with the late baronet. She took -possession of the situation, and while Sir Rupert was absent -everything went well. On his arrival, however, he had an interview -with the so-called Mrs. Belswin, and, recognising his guilty wife, -ordered her out of the house. This interview took place at night, -about nine o'clock, in the study at Thornstream; and Mrs. Belswin left -the house by the window, vowing vengeance for the course adopted by -her husband. Instead, therefore, of going away she lurked outside on -the terrace, and when her husband came to the window she shot him with -a pistol she had in her possession. Having committed this terrible -crime, she had coolly stepped across the body of the man she had -murdered, and re-entering the house went to her bedroom. All the -household being ignorant alike of her interview with the late baronet -and her antecedents, she was never for a moment suspected, except by -Mr. Dombrain. That gentleman, hearing the noise of Mrs. Belswin coming -upstairs, looked out of the door of his bedroom and saw her pass him. -Next morning, when the crime was known, he would have denounced her; -but owing to the darkness of the night was unable to be certain of the -identity of the woman who crept upstairs. The other day, however, he -taxed Mrs. Belswin with the crime; and although she denied it, yet -from her agitated manner he felt certain she was the criminal, upon -which he at once gave information to the police. Mrs. Belswin was -arrested on a warrant, and now stood charged with the murder of her -late husband, Sir Rupert Pethram. The first and only witness he would -call would be Mr. Alfred Dombrain, upon whose accusation the prisoner -had been arrested.</p> - -<p>This skilfully worded speech made things look very black against Mrs. -Belswin; and when Dombrain stepped into the witness-box to -substantiate the terrible statements made by the counsel for the -prosecution, there were many who looked upon the prisoner's committal -for trial as a foregone conclusion.</p> - -<p>Mr. Dombrain, having been duly sworn, stated that he had acted as the -legal adviser of the late baronet, and in pursuance of his -instructions had engaged the prisoner as a companion for Miss Pethram. -He was wholly ignorant of her former life, and that she was the -divorced wife of the late Sir Rupert, but as she seemed a suitable -person for a chaperon, he had engaged her at once, upon which she went -down to Thornstream in order to take up her duties. Upon the arrival -of Sir Rupert in England he had gone down to Thornstream in connection -with some legal business the late baronet wished to see him about Mrs. -Belswin was not at Thornstream on his arrival, as she had gone to -London a few days previous about some private matter; but she arrived -at Thornstream on the same afternoon as he did. She did not appear at -dinner, but on leaving the study after an interview with Sir Rupert -he had seen the prisoner enter. As she did not re-appear in the -drawing-room, where he was sitting with Miss Pethram, he retired to -bed, and he believed Miss Pethram also retired to bed, having a bad -headache. Towards eleven o'clock he thought he heard the sound of a -shot, but was not certain, although he sprang out of bed and went to -the door of his room. It was near the staircase, and as he leaned over -the banisters in the darkness, he heard the study door shut with a -slight noise, after which Mrs. Belswin came hastily upstairs, and -went into her own room. Next morning, when the crime was discovered, -she said she had not been out of her room at that hour. He was not -quite sure if it was Mrs. Belswin, as the staircase was dark. A week -ago she came to his office on business, and he accused her of having -committed the murder, which accusation she at first denied, but -afterwards half confessed to her guilt. He at once gave information to -the police, and she was arrested.</p> - -<p>In cross-examination Mr. Dombrain said he had found out all about the -prisoner's relations with the deceased from some papers in his -possession, and knew Mrs. Belswin was the divorced wife from the -description given of her in the handwriting of the deceased.</p> - -<p><span class="sc">Counsel for the Accused</span>.--I see that at the inquiry into the death of -Sir Rupert you said you had not heard a pistol-shot.</p> - -<p><span class="sc">Mr. Dombrain</span>.--I was not certain and sooner than declare I heard, I -thought it best to reply in the negative.</p> - -<p><span class="sc">Counsel</span>.--Is it not true, Mr. Dombrain, that you have a grudge against -the prisoner?</p> - -<p><span class="sc">Dombrain</span>.--No, it is not true.</p> - -<p><span class="sc">Counsel</span>.--The prisoner declares that she knew you in New Zealand.</p> - -<p><span class="sc">Dombrain</span>.--It is a lie. I never was in New Zealand.</p> - -<p><span class="sc">Counsel</span>.--Not under the name of Damberton?</p> - -<p><span class="sc">Dombrain</span>.--No.</p> - -<p><span class="sc">Counsel</span>.--I understand your name has been struck off the rolls.</p> - -<p><span class="sc">Dombrain</span>.--I don't see what that has to do with the case.</p> - -<p><span class="sc">Counsel</span>.--Ah, you are rather dense; I will explain. Your real name is -Alfred Damberton. You were imprisoned in New Zealand for embezzlement, -and on your release you came to England. Is this not true?</p> - -<p><span class="sc">Dombrain</span> (violently).--No sir! It is false! Who accuses me? The -prisoner!--and why? Because I have brought her to justice. Through her -lies I have been struck off the rolls, but I can prove myself -innocent, and will do so shortly!</p> - -<p><span class="sc">Counsel</span>.--I wish you every success, Mr. Dombrain, but I am afraid you -will find it difficult!</p> - -<p>When Dombrain left the witness-box, the counsel for the prosecution -said he had no more witnesses to call at present, upon which the -counsel for the defence made a short speech, and said that as his -learned brother had set the example of brevity, he would do the same -thing, and only call one witness in defence of the prisoner. The name -of that witness was Samson Belk.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin looked surprised when she heard this name, not for a -moment thinking that Belk's evidence could do her any good; and -Kaituna also appeared to be astonished, as she knew how Belk had kept -out of the way since her mother's arrest. Maxwell's face, however, -wore a contented smile, and this smile was reflected in the -countenance of the defending counsel, so, without doubt, these two men -knew that Belk's evidence was valuable, and were prepared to abide by -the result.</p> - -<p>Samson Belk, stepping into the witness-box, made oath according to -law, and gave the following remarkable evidence in favour of the -prisoner:--</p> - -<p>He had been steward to the deceased baronet, and on the night of the -murder had come up to the hall to ask his master a question about the -discharge of farm hands. If was nearly eleven o'clock when he arrived -at the door of the hall, and he hesitated whether to disturb Sir -Rupert at that hour. However, seeing the light streaming out of the -window of Sir Rupert's study, he advanced along in that direction, but -on hearing angry voices he had hidden himself behind a bush on the -terrace, in order to see what was the matter. The voices were those of -Sir Rupert and another man, whose tones he did not recognise. The -other man was imploring Sir Rupert to keep some secret, but the -baronet refused, and said all the world would know the truth on the -morrow. The man began to threaten, and Sir Rupert thrust him out of -the window on to the terrace, telling him he would ruin him by -revealing everything. So strong had been the baronet's push that the -man fell down upon the side of the terrace near the balustrade, and -Sir Rupert, with outstretched hand, stood pointing at him. The light -of the lamp within shone on the man crouching at the baronet's feet, -and I saw him take out something--I did not know what--and point it at -Sir Rupert, who stood in the window. There was no sound, and yet the -baronet fell, and the man, with a cry of triumph, rushed away into the -darkness. Witness ran forward to see what was the matter with his -master, and found him dead. He (the witness) had had a quarrel with -Sir Rupert on that day, and being afraid lest, if he gave the alarm, -he should be accused of the murder, and could not defend himself, he -went away, and said nothing about it. The crime was discovered next -morning, but no suspicion was fixed upon him, as no one had known of -his presence on the terrace that night.</p> - -<p><span class="sc">Counsel for the Prosecution</span>.--But could you not denounce the man who -committed the crime?</p> - -<p><span class="sc">Belk</span>.--I did not know who he was--I never saw him before or since the -light fell on him through the window, until----</p> - -<p><span class="sc">Counsel for the Prosecution</span>.--Until when?</p> - -<p><span class="sc">Belk</span>.--Until I saw him to-day.</p> - -<p>There was a great sensation in court, and every one looked at one -another in astonishment, while a gleam of triumph flashed from the -eyes of the prisoner.</p> - -<p><span class="sc">Counsel for the Prosecution</span>.--If you saw him to-day, as you say, do you -know his name?</p> - -<p><span class="sc">Belk</span>.--Yes.</p> - -<p><span class="sc">Counsel for the Prosecution</span>.--And the name of this man who killed Sir -Rupert?</p> - -<p><span class="sc">Belk</span>.--The man who accuses the prisoner of the murder--the man you -call Dombrain.</p> - -<p>If there was excitement before, there was ten times more excitement -now, and the crier found great difficulty in reducing all present to -silence. There was a sudden pause in the noise, and the prisoner, -raising her eyes to heaven, said in a solemn voice--</p> - -<p>"It is true! I am innocent of this crime. He has fallen himself into -the pit he digged for another."</p> - -<p>Yes, she was innocent, and the man who accused her guilty; but -when they looked for Dombrain, in order to arrest him, he had -disappeared--vanished into the depths of mighty London, when he heard -his name coupled with that of murder.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_35" href="#div1Ref_35">CHAPTER XXXV.</a></h4> -<h5>EXPIATION.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1" style="text-align: left"> -What fools are they who think God ever sleeps,<br> -Or views their follies with a careless eye.<br> -Fortune may heap her favours on their heads.<br> -Blithe Pleasure lull them with her jingling bells,<br> -And life for them be one long carnival;<br> -But in their triumph of prosperity,<br> -When all the smiling future seems serene,<br> -God; frowning, stretches out His mighty arm,<br> -And lo! the hungry grave gapes at their feet.</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>So Mrs. Belswin was delivered from her great peril, and was taken home -by Kaituna and her lover with great rejoicing. Maxwell, indeed, after -hearing the story of this woman, had hesitated for a moment as to -whether he ought to let her be with her daughter, seeing that she had -forfeited her maternal rights by her own act, but when he hinted this -to Kaituna she rebuked him with one sentence--</p> - -<p>"She is my mother."</p> - -<p>So Maxwell held his peace, and after Mrs. Belswin had been released -from her position of ignominy and shame, he had escorted both mother -and daughter to their lodgings. There he left them, and at Mrs. -Belswin's request, went to seek for Belk, and bring him there to -receive the thanks of the woman he had saved. Having departed on his -errand, Kaituna sat down beside her mother, in order to hear from her -own lips the story of her sad life.</p> - -<p>With many sobs, Mrs. Belswin told the whole pitiful story of her sin, -which had brought her to such a bitter repentance, and, when she had -ended, fell weeping at the feet of the daughter she feared now -would despise her. Ah! she little knew the tenderness which the girl -had cherished for her mother, and which she cherished for her even -now, when the dead saint had changed into the living sinner. -Pitifully--tenderly she raised her mother from her abject position of -sorrow, and kissed away the bitter tears of shame and agony that fell -down the hollow cheeks.</p> - -<p>"Mother!" she said, clasping her arms round the poor woman's breast, -"if you have sinned, you have also suffered. The one false step you -made has brought its own punishment; but why did you not tell me all -this before, and so have saved yourself this bitter agony?"</p> - -<p>"Tell you before?" said her mother, sadly. "Child! child! what good -would such a confession have done? You could not have helped me."</p> - -<p>"No, dearest; but I could have loved you. I could have made your life -less hard. Oh, mother! poor mother, how you must have suffered when I -treated you as a stranger."</p> - -<p>"I did suffer," replied Mrs. Belswin, in a low tone, "but not so much -as you think, for even then you treated me more like a mother than as -a companion."</p> - -<p>"And I was the little child of whom you spoke?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, dear."</p> - -<p>"Oh, blind! blind! how could I have been so blind as not to guess your -secret. You betrayed yourself in a hundred ways, my poor mother, but I -never saw it. But now--now that I know the truth, I see how blind I -have been."</p> - -<p>"Ah, Kaituna, if I had only known you would have received me like -this, but I feared to tell you of my shame lest you should turn from -me in scorn."</p> - -<p>"Hush! dear mother, hush!"</p> - -<p>"And it was terrible to think that the little child I had borne at my -breast should spurn me."</p> - -<p>"Mother!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, my sin! my sin!" wailed Mrs. Belswin, rocking herself to and fro, -"how it has cursed my life--how it has turned the earth into a hell of -repentance."</p> - -<p>"Do not say another word, mother," cried Kaituna, wiping the tears -from her mother's eyes; "the past is dead, we will speak of it no -more; but the future----"</p> - -<p>"Ah, my child, the future for you is bright; you will marry your -lover, and have him by your side during the rest of your life, but -I--Child, I must leave you."</p> - -<p>"Leave me?"</p> - -<p>"Yes! you know what I am! You know my sin, my folly, my shame! I -cannot look into your clear eyes, my child, for I have lost the right -to be your mother. No, Kaituna, while you did not know me, and -believed your mother to be a pure good woman, I stayed beside you, to -love you and hear you talk of me as I once was; but now--now--ah, no! -no! I dare not remain in your presence, I dare not kiss you, for my -kisses would pollute your lips. I will go away--far away, and expiate -my sin!"</p> - -<p>"But, mother, you will not leave me?"</p> - -<p>"It is for your good, child--it is for your good!"</p> - -<p>"You shall not leave me!" said Kaituna, winding her arms round the -elder woman's neck. "You have suffered enough for your sin, and for -the rest of your days I will help you to forget the past. Archie -thinks the same as I do. Come, mother, you will not leave me; promise -to stay beside me for ever."</p> - -<p>"I cannot promise," cried Mrs. Belswin, breaking away from the tender -bonds that held her; "oh! what a paradox I am. When you did not know -me I wished to stay. Now you know I am your wretched, guilty mother, I -wish to fly. I must go! I must! Seek not to detain me, child. As ye -sow so shall ye reap! The Bible, Kaituna! the Bible--let me go to my -harvest."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Belswin, with her savage nature maddened by the mental agonies -she had undergone, had worked herself up into one of those -uncontrollable fits of passion which made her so dangerous. She -had found her child, and now she was going to leave her of her own -free-will, because she could not bear to live with her own daughter, -who knew how vile she was. With a cry of agony, unable to bear any -more implorings from Kaituna, she flew to the door in order to escape; -but her daughter, who was determined not to let the poor distraught -creature go, perhaps to her death, sprang after her, and wrenching her -away, flung herself back against the door with outstretched arms.</p> - -<p>"No! no!" she cried, panting with excitement, "that way lies death. -Oh, mother! mother! I know what you would do; but do not leave me. If -you have any pity in your heart for the child you bore let me keep -you ever at my side. Where would you go out into the darkness of -London?--to the terrible stormy streets--to the river--ah! the river! -is that what you think? No! no! mother! my own dear mother, you must -not let me mourn your death twice."</p> - -<p>The evening sun was shining through the windows, touching the -furniture, the draperies, the mirrors, with soft gleams of light; and -Kaituna, with her head thrown back, and her arms outstretched, stood -against the door, while Mrs. Belswin, with a sudden cessation of her -mad anguish, stared vacantly at her daughter, and round the room.</p> - -<p>Ah! what was that gleaming in the sunlight from behind a heavy purple -curtain--steel--the barrel of a pistol; and it was pointed full at -Kaituna, With a shriek of rage Mrs. Belswin, guessing the truth, -sprang in front of her daughter to shield her from harm, and in -another moment had fallen in a heap at the feet of the child she -loved. There was no sound of a report, and Kaituna in a state of -horrified amazement, fell on her knees beside her mother. As she did -so a man ran from behind the curtain, and wrenching open the door -flung down a pistol and spoke rapidly--</p> - -<p>"I wanted to kill you!" he said, with a snarl, "to punish her; but she -came between you and the pistol, so let her die as she deserves to, -with my curses on her."</p> - -<p>With a shriek Kaituna recognised him. It was Dombrain, and she sprang -to her feet to seize him; but eluding her grasp he ran out of the door -and down the stairs into the street. Kaituna could not follow him, as -her limbs tottered under her; but she managed to drag herself back to -her mother--the mother, alas, who was dying.</p> - -<p>The red blood was welling slowly from a wound in her breast, and a -thick sluggish stream was stealing heavily along the polished floor. -Lifting the dying woman's head on her lap the girl cried aloud for -help upon which the servant came rushing in. She shrieked when she saw -Mrs. Belswin lying unconscious in her blood, and ran out to call in -aid--ran right into the arms of Maxwell, Belk and Ferrari, who were -just entering.</p> - -<p>"Help! help!" cried the servant, rushing past them, "a doctor--a -doctor! She is dying."</p> - -<p>"Kaituna!" exclaimed Archie with a sudden fear in his breast; and -without a moment's pause the three men rushed into the room, where the -girl was sitting with a look of agony on her pale face as she bent -over the unconscious woman.</p> - -<p>"Kaituna!--Mrs. Belswin!"</p> - -<p>"It is my mother--my poor mother," cried Kaituna, in an agony of -sorrow. "Have you caught him? Have you caught him?"</p> - -<p>"Who?" shouted Maxwell and Belk, while Ferrari, in a paroxysm of -grief, threw himself beside the body of the woman he loved.</p> - -<p>"Dombrain!"</p> - -<p>"Dombrain?"</p> - -<p>"Yes! yes! he was here! he shot my mother with that pistol. He has -just left the house."</p> - -<p>"God!" cried Belk, starting, "he was the man we saw running down the -street." And he was out of the room in pursuit without saying another -word.</p> - -<p>"A doctor! a doctor!" said Kaituna, imploringly, "Oh, Archie! she will -die, she will die!"</p> - -<p>"Stella adora!" moaned the Italian, covering the cold white hand with -kisses.</p> - -<p>"A doctor will be here in a few minutes," said Maxwell, approaching -the unconscious form of Mrs. Belswin; "the servant has gone for one. -Ferrari, help me to place her on the sofa!"</p> - -<p>But Ferrari could do nothing but tear his hair, and cry endearing -words in Italian to the woman he loved; so Kaituna, pale as marble, -but wonderfully brave, helped Archie to place Mrs. Belswin on the -sofa. She was breathing heavily, and Maxwell, tearing open her dress, -strove to staunch the blood with his handkerchief, while Ferrari -remained on his knees, and Kaituna stood beside him with clasped -hands.</p> - -<p>"Good heavens, she will bleed to death!"</p> - -<p>Just as Maxwell spoke, the doctor entered with the scared servant, and -at once proceeded to examine the wound. Having done so he looked very -grave, and Kaituna caught him by the arm with a cry of terror as he -arose from his knees.</p> - -<p>"She will live! she will live! Say she will live!"</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid not, my dear young lady," said the doctor, gravely; "the -bullet has gone right through the lungs."</p> - -<p>"Do you think she will die, doctor?" asked Maxwell, in a tone of -horror.</p> - -<p>"Yes! I am sure of it!"</p> - -<p>"Die!" cried the Italian, wildly, "no! no! Lucrezia--my beautiful -Lucrezia--you must not die."</p> - -<p>"Take that man away," said the doctor, sharply, "and get me some -brandy."</p> - -<p>Kaituna was the first to obey. The nerve of this girl was wonderful, -and notwithstanding all the agonies she had come through, she gave no -sign of fainting; and the terrible strain on her mind could only be -told by the pallor of her face.</p> - -<p>"My brave girl," said Archie, as he assisted her to get what the -doctor required.</p> - -<p>How slowly the hours passed in that room, where this poor woman was -dying. Yes, dying; for although the doctor did all in his power to -save her life, there was no hope that she would live through the -night. She was still lying on the sofa, from which she was unable to -be removed; and when she recovered consciousness, after the shock she -had sustained, she opened her eyes to see Kaituna kneeling fondly by -her side, and Maxwell, Belk, Ferrari, and the doctor, in the -background. Belk had not been able to find the assassin, who was lost -among the crowds that thronged the streets, so had returned in an -agony of grief to see the woman he loved die before his eyes without -being able to save her.</p> - -<p>So strange the scene was in this little drawing-room, with the couch -upon which rested the dying woman standing near the piano, the glitter -of mirrors and ornaments in the dim candle-light, and the silent group -standing round the one who was passing away. Outside the sunlight had -died out of the sky, the purple twilight deepened to night, and the -melancholy light of the moon streamed in through the windows, the -blinds of which no one had troubled to pull down. In the passage -crouched the servant, sobbing as if her heart would break; but Kaituna -could not cry, she could only kneel there with tearless eyes, and a -look of anguish on her white face watching her mother die.</p> - -<p>"Kaituna," said Mrs. Belswin, faintly.</p> - -<p>"I am here, dear mother!"</p> - -<p>"You are not hurt?"</p> - -<p>"No! No!"</p> - -<p>"Thank God," said her mother, with a tone of joy in her weak voice. "I -have paid the debt."</p> - -<p>"With your life--with your life," moaned the girl, wringing her hands -in despair. "Doctor, can you do nothing?"</p> - -<p>"Nothing."</p> - -<p>"I know I am dying," went on Mrs. Belswin in a stronger voice, having -swallowed some restorative; "it is better so! Hush! hush! my poor -child! God knows what is best. If I sinned against you in the past, He -has permitted me to expiate that sin by saving you from death. Archie! -take her, take my darling, and make her a good husband."</p> - -<p>"As there is a God above, I will," said Maxwell, solemnly, taking the -now weeping girl in his arms.</p> - -<p>"My poor Stephano, is it you?"</p> - -<p>"Ah, cara mia--cara mia," cried Ferrari, throwing himself on his knees -beside the sofa. "Do not leave me--do not!"</p> - -<p>"Alas, Stephano, it is not in my power! Weep! weep, poor heart! Your -tears show me how much love I have lost--love that I did not deserve."</p> - -<p>"And I?" said Belk, coming forward.</p> - -<p>"You are a good man," said the dying woman, faintly, stretching out -her hand. "You will find some one to love you better than I would have -done."</p> - -<p>"Never! Ah, never!"</p> - -<p>"Believe me, what I say is true. Ah!" she cried, with a terrified look -on her face. "Kaituna, my dearest!"</p> - -<p>In a moment Kaituna was on her knees again, bending over her mother, -with the hot tears falling from her eyes.</p> - -<p>"Mother! mother! would you like to see a clergyman?"</p> - -<p>"No, my darling no! I have sinned--I have sinned bitterly, but perhaps -God in His mercy will accept the expiation. Archie, be good to my -little child. Oh, my little girl, whom I lost for so many weary, weary -years, put your arms, your dear arms, round me, and let the outcast -die on the bosom of her child!"</p> - -<p>The murmuring noise from the street penetrated into the room; the dim -light of the candles flickered and flared in the faint breath of the -wind, and there was silence among all kneeling there, save for the -sobs of Kaituna and the broken mutterings of the dying woman repeating -a prayer.</p> - -<p>"Our Father, which art in Heaven----Oh, my child, my child, will he -forgive me--will He forgive me?"</p> - -<p>"I'm sure He will, mother!"</p> - -<p>"Half a savage, half civilised! Ah, if I had only been guided, I might -have been a good woman; but we were both wrong, Rupert and---- Kaituna, -my little child, I--I am leaving you! Oh, my baby--kiss me, my -dearest--my little----"</p> - -<p>Her head fell inertly on the encircling arm of the girl, and Kaituna -knew by the terribly calm look on the placid face that not all her -love--not all her money--not all her prayers, had availed to save from -death this mother whom she had lost and found--this mother who had -sinned and repented--this mother who had given her life to save that -of her child.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_36" href="#div1Ref_36">CHAPTER XXXVI.</a></h4> -<h5>A MEMORY OF THE PAST.</h5> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:smaller"> -<p class="t1" style="text-indent:-7px"> -"De Mortuis"--you know the phrase, I think;<br> -A kindly saying, such as poor humanity<br> -Mutters at times when talking of the dead;<br> -Therefore, I pray you, speak not any ill<br> -Of this poor soul who suffered, sinned, and died,<br> -Seeing her sinning brought her but to this;<br> -Yourself when gone may need a pitying word,<br> -When all your virtues with you are entombed, -And naught remains but sins to curse your name.</p> -</div> -<br> -<p>So it was Dombrain, after all, who had committed this crime, and, by -accusing Mrs. Belswin of the murder, placed her life in jeopardy, in -order both to revenge and save himself. Had it not been for the -unexpected evidence of Samson Belk, without doubt the unhappy woman -would have been found guilty, and suffered in the place of the astute -Mr. Dombrain. When this ex-lawyer, ex-convict, and constant blackguard -heard himself accused of the crime, he slipped out of the court and -vanished before he could be arrested, knowing that he could make no -defence.</p> - -<p>Part of his evidence was true, for he had been in the drawing-room, he -had seen Mrs. Belswin enter the study, but here his truth ceased and -his lies began. Fearing lest his name should be mentioned by the -infuriated woman during the interview, which would be sure to end in -the discomfiture of Mrs. Belswin the lawyer, trembling for his -respectable position, went to his bedroom and took his air-pistol, so -as to be prepared for emergencies. It is but fair to Mr. Dombrain to -say that he had no intention of using the weapon unless everything was -lost; so, creeping out of the house, he placed himself beside the open -window of the study, in order to hear what Mrs. Belswin would say.</p> - -<p>In accordance with his expectations, she did tell Sir Rupert all about -him, and when Dombrain heard the declaration of the baronet that he -would denounce him, he knew that all was lost, and that the sin of his -early youth was going to cost him the respectable position of his -middle age. When Mrs. Belswin, thrust forth by her unforgiving -husband, fled out into the night, Dombrain, trembling, sick at heart -at seeing all that made his life worth living vanish, crouched still -beside the window, and here Sir Rupert, who had come out to make sure -that his divorced wife had taken herself off, found him.</p> - -<p>Then an interview between the lawyer and the baronet took place, in -which the latter swore to reveal all the infamy of Dombrain, and have -him struck off the rolls. In vain the wretched man pleaded for mercy. -Coldly and inflexibly the baronet thrust him out of doors, the same -way he had done his wife; and then mad with anger at the terrible -future before him, Dombrain shot Sir Rupert, in the manner described -by Belk in the witness-box. After committing the crime and assuring -himself that his victim was dead, he coolly stepped across the body, -and took refuge in his own room, from whence he did not emerge for the -rest of the night. It was true, as he said, that his room was near the -head of the staircase, for he saw Mrs. Belswin leave the study as he -described, so it was then that the idea came into his head to secure -himself by sacrificing her, and thus both save and revenge himself at -one time.</p> - -<p>On leaving the court after having been denounced by Belk, his rage -against all the world for his thwarted revenge and his perilous -position knew no bounds. He had no idea of escaping justice, but -determined before he was seized to punish the woman who had--as he -believed--dragged him down even lower than his former position. Then -he had simply embezzled money, but now he had committed a crime for -which he would lose his life; and thus, seeing that his doom was -fixed, he determined that Mrs. Belswin should suffer for placing him -in such a perilous position.</p> - -<p>With this idea in his head, he took the air-pistol with which he had -killed Sir Rupert, and went to the lodgings of the dead man's daughter -and Mrs. Belswin. Skilfully managing to evade the notice of the -servant, he ensconced himself behind the curtains in the drawing-room, -and shot the unhappy woman as described. At first, knowing how bitter -it would be to Mrs. Belswin, he had intended to kill Kaituna, but the -unexpected action of the mother had saved the daughter from a terrible -death. Satisfied with his work, Dombrain threw down the pistol and -disappeared--disappeared into the depths of London, from whence he -never emerged. What became of him nobody ever knew. Whether he took -another name, and resumed his profession in provincial England; -whether he left the country; whether he died in the gutter, no one -ever discovered. Falling into the immense ocean of London like a drop -of rain, he became obliterated, lost, unknown, but no doubt in due -time he met his reward for his evil doings.</p> - -<p>And his victim? Alas, poor soul, her troubles, her trials, her -follies, were all at an end, and a simple cross marked the place where -she was buried. To that humble grave, a year after the events -described, came Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell, in reverence for the memory of -the woman--the mother who had given her life for that of her child. -Maxwell had married Kaituna in due course after a decent time had -elapsed from the death of Mrs. Belswin, and later on he had gone to -South America, on business connected with his profession; for, in -spite of Kaituna's wealth, Archie could not bring himself to live upon -her income. He had gone away for a few months to Buenos Ayres, and had -now returned to the side of Kaituna for ever. After much difficulty -she had persuaded him to accept her view of the question, and share -the proceeds of the Pole Star Mine. To this, after much hesitation, -Maxwell consented, and now the husband and wife had arranged to make a -tour of the world together. Before leaving England, however, they came -to Kensal Green cemetery to pay a last visit to the grave of the woman -who had sinned, but who also had suffered.</p> - -<p>"Poor mother!" said Kaituna, as she leaned on the strong arm of her -husband. "What a terribly bitter life she had, and her death was -hardly less sad."</p> - -<p>"She saved you, my darling," replied Maxwell, with a fond smile; "and -that, in her eyes, was recompense enough for the sudden ending of her -life."</p> - -<p>"If that wretch who killed her had only been punished?"</p> - -<p>"I've no doubt he is punished. It is true he escaped the hands of men, -but I am certain he will not escape the punishment of God. But come, -my dear Kaituna, these thoughts make you sad. Let us leave this dreary -place."</p> - -<p>"Yes; but see, Archie, that withered wreath of roses! It has been -placed there by Ferrari, I am sure."</p> - -<p>"But I thought he had gone to Italy."</p> - -<p>"Only three weeks ago! He came to me and talked a great deal about our -poor mother, whom he loved very dearly in his own impulsive way. But -now he is back in his own country, he no doubt will forget about her. -Men have such short memories."</p> - -<p>"Don't say that. Remember Belk."</p> - -<p>"Oh, he will go the same way," said Kaituna, a little bitterly. -"Certainly he behaved very well, for he used to bring flowers here -every week, along with Ferrari. How these two men must have loved my -mother!"</p> - -<p>"She deserved their love," replied Maxwell, after a pause. "She had -sinned, it is true, but she was bitterly punished for her sin. Well, -she lies here, and the two men who loved her have gone far away--one -to Italy, the other to America."</p> - -<p>"Ah, all our friends go thus!"</p> - -<p>"Not all, my dear. Remember Toby Clendon and his wife, who are living -so happily at Deswarth. We must go down and see them before we leave -England."</p> - -<p>"No, no!" said Kaituna, with a sudden shudder. "I cannot bear to go -near Thornstream after those terrible events which cost the lives of -both my parents."</p> - -<p>"Come, dear one," urged Maxwell, seeing how overcome she was with -emotion, "let us go away."</p> - -<p>"One moment," replied Kaituna, kneeling beside the grave. "I must say -farewell to my poor mother."</p> - -<p>And kneeling there in the long green grass, she breathed a prayer for -the soul of her unhappy mother, whose natural love had cost her so -dear.</p> - -<p>Maxwell, who had removed his hat when he heard this prayer mount like -incense to the throne of God, quoted a text from the Scriptures in a -low voice--</p> - -<p>"She suffered much, so much shall be forgiven of her!"</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>THE END.</h4> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Fever of Life, by Fergus Hume - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FEVER OF LIFE *** - -***** This file should be named 56080-h.htm or 56080-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/6/0/8/56080/ - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by -Google Books (New York Public Library) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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