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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Wingham Times, 1888-02-03, Page 2a - j A GREAT SECRET, OR, SHALL IT BE DONE. CHAPTER XVI, young girl, ' had soon through the praft of . A cry broke from old Madame Monnier'e quietly : he! lege fascinating Whoa So he staid lips as Gerald entered the gamekeeper's cottage. She was silenced by two word iron her surly son, who, in his seat by the fire, just pulled off his cap and took his pipe for a moment from his mouth in ungracious welcome, while the old woman brought for. ward a ehair for the young ggntletnan, still /staring at him with vacant mietruet. "What's the matter, granny ?" said he, putting his hand gently on her arm, Ma- dame Monnier, who, by the way, looked scarcely older or more weatherbeaten than her son, was not reputed to be overburden ed with wits; and the feeble friendliness ahe usually showed to Gerald was considei - ad an unflattering preference, ' This evening, however, something had evidently happened to trouble her weak wits, for she drew herself away from his touch, mumbling incoherently and in a low voice. "Don't mind her," said the gamekeeper sharply; and he signed to her that her presence was no longer wanted, with an extra wrinkle in his ugly hoe which caused her to shuffle hastily into the next room. "What's your bueiness, monsieur ?" he then asked. But that was the very last thingthat Gerald would have thought of disclosing to him. So he said he wanted to hear whether /a mere's rheumatism was better, and what had become of Babette. At this mention of the girl's name the gamekeeper's little eyes fastened on him; but the subject had lost much of its interest to Gerald lately, and although he grew red under Monnier's keen glance, he was not much disconcerted by it. " My mother's rheumatism iet no better; she can't expect it at her age. And Babette —why, she's gone away—to service." "To service 1" repeated Gerald, in as- tonishment. "You've changed your tune very sudden- ly, Monnier, after thanking me so warmly as you did six weeks ago for my kindness to your old mother and Babette. As you've grown eo suspicious, Fd better give you a (Mance of making a proper complaint to Mr. Bereef " For ed. E and h sides " C a few to be don't and daugh that alway "Far could all a and old p how i Fro watt: sign tion. es righ any shen i socia door hand puck anxi '' poor iwnigt he Mr. gent mo I've cion Mo old Gera • tore hiinse away, opene door, and let himself out, without one more glance at the blinking foxy eyes that watch- ed him furtively in the darkness as he dash- ed down the narrow red -tiled garden -path and out at the gate. As he turned into the road, on his way back to "Les Bouleaux," he thought he heard a weak voice quavering out his name: "Monsieur Gerald." But he paid no attention to the faint cry, almost believing it to be the work of his fancy, until he heard the cottage -door slammed by the irritated gamekeeper, and immediately after the footsteps of a woman on the road behind him. He topped, looked round, and found himself face to face with old Madame Meunier. Her manner was more wavering and witless than ever, but she was in such piteous distress that Gerald's heart was touched and he submitted to be clawed by her thin fingers and to be treated to a long pointless disci ourse in which she alternately reviled him for "taking her granddaughter away," and implored him to "get her back from the wolf." "It's allright, la more; the wolf won't do Babette any harm," said he soothingly. He had no hope of learning anything from the old woman's incoherent wailings, and he was startled when, after staring blankly into his face for a few moments without speak- ing, she croaked out : 'And they, say Perla is such a wicked place 1 0, I have heard such tales of what becomes of poor country girls when they get there 1" "Paris 1" said Gerald, with suddenly eivid interest. " Has Babette gone to Paris, do you say ?" His vehemence frightened her, and it was some minutes before he could get her to con- fess:that ce beau monsieur" had said she would be quite safe there, and that she would be rich and happy and a great lady. At this confirmation of his worst fears concerning his old playfellow, Gerald turn- ed upon the old woman so savagely that she broke away from him and tottered back to the gate of the cottage. He followed her half -way up the garden path, but as she glanced in terror at the door, and gave him no answer to his questions but disconnected mumblings, he turned back impatiently, and took a short cut to "Les Bouleaux,' with his mind full of new anxiety. Every one had gone to bed, but as he crept softly up- stairs to his room, and paused a moment at the top of the stairs, he fancied he heard a faint sound of sobbing from Peggy's room. Js. throb of tenderness in the young man's heart was succeeded by en impulse of rage against the man who was to be her hueband, "To give a girl like that to a fel- low that dosen't care for her 1 How can Mr. Beresford have the heart to do .it ?" he thought to himself bitterly as he stole to his own room, not for whole- some eleep, but for untimely consideration of the hopeless muddle into which human affairs seemed to have got. After passing moat of the night in refleotions which he considered philosophical, while they were only love-sick, no of course came downstairs on the following morning in the seediest and sorriest oftnoode. He was glad Peggy had not yet appeared; he gobbled up his breakfast in a great hurry to be off to the office, and was furious when Mr. Beresfore, in the ful- ness of his heart, sent down Pierre to say that as today was to be a fete in honor of his daughter's engagement, M. Gerald would please return from the office in time to re- ceive M. Bereeford's guestt. Gerald's face fell as he drove off to St. Pierre. A ghastly tribe they would be, these relations of the Fourniers, appalling in their monotone= scandalmongering to- sclectability, Roeveger, there was nothing for it but to submit ; so at half -past two the unlucky young clerk returned to "Les Bou- leaux," and a little later he was seated in the outer salon among antique spinster cous- ins, high dried and dull uncles and aunts, two or three plump and effusive young girls of the boisterously ingenuous sort, a couple of particularly offensive spoilt children, and the Fourniers themsolvee. Mr. Beresford had retired to the Mier salon with achosen pair of prosy old gentleman whom he left to en- tertain each other; his feeble health was :sufficient excuse for his withdrawal from the clamor in the next room, Where poor Peggy had to undergo I martydom in the midst " Yes; why not ? I don't approve of keeping a great strapping girl idle at home, to have her head turned by some philander- ing fool, while her old father is out toiling to keep her in luxury." "0 1" said Gerald quite simply. The gamekeeper's speech had ignored all the facts of the case so completely that assent and. dissent were alike out of the question. He wondered whether he himself wee the "philandering fool" alluded to, or'whether the term was meant for the stranger he had seen with Babette. And then, his vague fear grew stronger that the girl was in some way linked with the man :about whom he had such grave suspicions ; and Gerald, who had no skill in hiding his feelings, found himself returning the gamekeeper's sidelong looks with a wide stare of mistrust. As soon as he beceme conscious of this the young fellow started up, hot and uncom- fortable; he knew that he had failed as a detective, so he threw off the character. "Look here, Monnieur'" said he, leaning against the high stone chimney.piece and uneasily kicking one of the burning logs, with his eyes fixed on the fire, " I wish you would tell me whore she's gone. I don't want to go after her, you needn't think that ea-oe —Babette and I were always great chums, you know, and of course we're not children now ; but I can't help feeling a great inter- est in her, and—and I should really be aw- fully glad to kno v that she—that she is all right, in fact." Sacre.re-re, monsieur 1" growled the gamekeeper. I should think Meer father is satisfied as to her safety, that is enough. And it is very good of you to interest your- self about her, but she is in ibetter hands than—yours." And he looked straight at Gerald with mean and impudent suspicion in every line of his face, The young man grew red, with alarm as well as anger. He thrust his hands into his pockets and faced the older man steadily. " Well, I can't make you speak," said he after a minu+e's pause. Bat I know some- body who can. You know very well it's nonsense to pretend you suspeot my motives, because you flon't. I never had a motive in my life that wasn't clean compared to the beat of yours. For you've something more to account for than Babette's going away. I saw you sneaking along the road from Calais on the night of the murder, and it's my belief you know something about it, you infernal old fox 1" Gerald hed meant to keep this suspicion a dead secret ; but the sight of the game. keeper, doubled up as if to keep not only his' mind but his person as much to himself as possible,blinking and squinting at him ead. tiously t' e firelight, so irritated the young man that he blurted out the accusing words almost against his own will. Meunier stuck out his lean pointed ohin, pursed up his blue lips, and blinked at his visitor more persistently than ever, but without giving any intimation that his son, sitive nature was wounded. Gerald's hands twitched in his pockets during .the rather awkward silence. Then the injured one nodded his head slowly two or three times with a oraokling laugh of generous con- tempt. "It's very easy to come here," he began mockingly, 'end to say hard u ords to a poor old man when you find that his daughter is no longer about to say soft ones to. And you young gentlemen think poor men were only made for you to kick and poor women for you to kies." Gerald looked as if on the point of illustrating part of his theory. "But there is a heaven above, monsieur— "" Yes, and there's something else under- neath," interrupted Gerald hotly, " and retell get what you deserve some day, if you don't now." "The saints watch over the innocent, monsieur," said the gamekeeper, with gro- tesque resignation, " and you and your fiaunting madam won't get much out of your spying Visite here." Gerald looked at him puzzled. Had Ma- dame de Lawry been here already? And had she failed, as entirely as he himself had done, in extracting anything worth hearing front. the leather -skinned old mewed? The bewilderment on his face encouraged Mon - Who went on in a much more assured tone: "I should like to know what your patron Mr. Beresford would say, if 1 was to go and ooMplain of your hanging about here after My girl Why, it would be enough to get you turned out of his hours, that it Would." His righteous indignation matfett him just a lftble toe fate Gerald, though simple enough to be &Waked by the blue-eyed of a group of ladies, who pulled her about like a doll red asked her questions suited to the intelligence of a child of Rix, and found the unhappy little foreigner vary amusing. At lent her patience gave way whena welldneaning sister of Madame Four- nier's asked her indulgently whether she was net enchanted to find her appointed husband no good-looking and charming. No, madame," answered Peggy with simple ;savagery, while her cheeks flushed and her eyes blazed, " A handsome hue - band admires himself and charms other women ; and nobody who leases my father could pogeible please me," To the intense relief of Gerald, who over- heard this appalling speech in the cornet wher he wag trying to restrain the naught - the :spoilt children from hacking off ohs of a carved armchair with his pen - the ladies received it as a great joke prated it to Victor ; and the young as unutterably thankful when halfpast ruck and they all sat down to dinner sale, and something even more inter - that a half -civilised bride at last drew ttontion from the unhappy Peggy. room was not very large ; every cor- es quickly occupied. Peggy jerked mohair violently intmthat of her right- eighbor, and made room for Gerald left. ome and sit by ine, Gerald," she ered eagerly, under cover of the cletter ustle of the general movement,"rand needn't see so much of that smirking, ring FrenchmanAnd she glanced tor, who .Was charming the staid cone- y of relations by his vivacity, and col - g materials for a burlesque of the entertainment by and by. rald sat down by ker side, but he would elk to her. Her little sad,ibewildered as she sat silently amidst the babble, d him so much that he could scarcely himself to look in her direction. He growing miserable and moonstruok, some words spoken at the other end e table roused his attention. end bow ie it Mr. Smith is not here to- " old M. Fournier was asking. ), he couldn't get back in time," ans- d Mr. Beresford. (can't think what keeps him in Lonon," titer wont on. "Smith's erratic men- d doing business I never can under- " But I must see Mr. Bamford, and at Once." 44 Unfortunately that is hapOssIble," said a wirer voice from a long way below her. And the tiny housekeeper, anxious to recover her lost prestige, barred the way to the inner ocaon, to which the lady was ad- vancing. " Mr. Beresford has already been over -excited to -day, and I cannot allow him to be disturbed." Some watch -dog instinot had told her that the visit of the beautiful estranger would be an unwelcome one. 4( must Meet, I am afi oid," said Madame de Lancry coolly ; " I have come on P. mat- ter of life and death," She made a step further toward the door of the inner salon, when it was opened from thu other side'and Mr. Beresford himself gently tried to push Mies M'Leod out of the way, "Cone in here, madame, if you please," said lie, in a voice that was scarcely steady. And Miss M'Leod felt, as she glanced up at the cruel handsome mouth and steely glowing eyes of the strange lady, who seem- ed to sweep her out of the way as if she had been a fly, that her instinct of mistrust was a right one. 1." But the business gets done," broke in eresford, quickly. es, yes. And if you are satisfied I t to be. Still, I can't help thinking our . riend has been growing more erratic and Apdependent than ever lately, and what there is to detain him in London at this time of year I can't imagine. When there's work calling him to Paris too j" " Ah, I hope your firm has a hand in the furnishing of M. de Breteuil's new house at St. Cloud 1" broke in a. stout and pompous brother-in-law, with a round head, close - cropped black hair, a much -waxed mo=tache and imperial. "A perfect palace I believe it is to be." • Gerald grew hot, remembering suddenly Mr. Shaw's words about the confidential clerk's underhand dealings with this rich client of Mr. Beresford. "Yes, yes,'we had a large order from him some time ago." "Ah, if all noblemen had as much money as he, and spent it as freely, we men of com- merce should not be such good Republicans, should. we ?" continued the pompous brother- in-law. " I sawhim in the Champs Elysees yesterday, and at the Opera one day last week ; and each time I said to myself as I lookedat him, "There is something in old blood after all ; he might be a prince, that man 1" With his tall figure, as slim and as straight as that of my nephew Vlototahere, and—why, yes, a face not unlike Victor's either, only a little older, a little thinner, more interesting, I suppose, the ladies would say." Gerald shivered. This description recall- ed the face that had 'glared into his in the darkness on the night of the murder, and he was glad when the talk was turned into another channel by the interruption of another tactless old gentleman. " Well, I don't think Victor need com- plain, when within ten days he has come into a fortuue and gained a charming girl for a wife." "1 can't imagine how it was that Mad- emoiselle Ernestine hit upon Victor to leave her money to, when .she had never seen him, and could scarcelyeven have heard his name, living down in the south as she did." Mr. Beresford's luck in having settled upon his daughter quite a modest dot just two days before hie future son-in-law be- came the unexpected possessor of a fortune had been the subject of much envious cornment. A clue to the mystery appeared suddenly from a most unexpected quarter. "0, but you forget that Mr Beresford has been spending the winter down there," began Miss M'Leod finnocently, when a slight, quick movement of the paralytic's head made her atop short, with the blood rushing to her cheeks. But it was too late. A roar of ironical laughter showed that in the innocence of her heart the poor little housekeeper had betrayed her scheming master ; and though the universal respect for Mr. Beresford, which this discovery of his successful cun- ning only increased, caused the merriment to be quickly suppressed, the whole story mime out after dinner, when the ladies surrounded Mite: M'Leod, and forced her unwillingly to acknowledge that Mademois- elle Ernestine had been at Nice while Mr. Beresford was there, that they had often met, and that the name of Victor, with mention of his courage, industry, piety, and other good qualities, might have crop- ped up now and then in conversation. Miss M'Leod, who was too honest to deny what she knew to be fa:Alava:ea however, certain that no interested thcughts had suggested to her master that high praise of hits part- nor's son. "By affeoting these In whom you have intereet." She could only see the lo wer pert of kis "4.S interest I Whet intermit V' 44 $113.11 tell you ?" facie, the curved nostrile, the drooping white mousteohe the reverend white beard; but as shelooked, trying to define the lips half hidden by the silver hair, she drew back her head with, a slight start, and a ory, whioh he tried to stifle, broke from her, Raising his left hand, 14r, Beresford slowly pushed up the green shade that was over hie eyes. ; the light from the lamp made him blink, but he returned her gaze :steadily, and preached the change which in- etantly took place in her look and manner. Her confidence gave way to doubt, doubt: to atter confusion; after. a few moments' silence her eyes fell and her head dropped. "Wou't you explain yourself, madame 1" said Mt, Beresford urbanely, "You were going to be kind enough to tell me the nature of my interest in Mr. Shaw's murderer." "I made a inistalte," sail Madame de Lancry, rising hwriedly, "1 confess I felt convinced I recognized in you an old boule- vard acquaintance of M. de Bretouil's, and your knowledge of my pest history seemed to confirm that." "An acquaintance is not necessarily an accomplice, madame." "No, no—but your manner seemed to me suspicious When I spoke M.:de Breuteil's "Every man has emorets, 1 among the rest You judge very hastily." "And apologize very humbly.. I hope you will forget and forgive my mtrueion, monsieur." She held her hand down to him in win- ning, grackles apology. The austere old man gave way a little. "A lady's impulsive kindness of heart will get the better of her judgment," said he indulgently, "You take a very warns in- terest in Gerald, madame." He did not take her proffered hand, but pointed to a ohair. Madame de Lanory, however, bowed, and walked toward the door. "I have had an adventurous youth and I am passing into a dull middle -age: two good reasons for my being quixotically and romantioally kind-hearted—by fits and starts. After this abortive outburst, I have no doubt the volcano will slumber peacefully for a twelvemonth at least." She laughed, in the most light-hearted and oharming manner, and wished him good. evening, as if her errand had been about bonbon& And. Mr. Beresford chuckled civilly in re- turn, as if any errand would have been wel- come that brought him such a fascinating vest. But the artificial grin left both feces ea soon as they were out of eaoh other's sight; and both grew grave and hard, as if the interview had brought each in contact with a new enemy. In the outer salon Madame de Lanory had some difficulty in escaping from old M. Fournier, whose elaborate compliments and civilities she received with the manner of a tired empress. Victor did not come near her until called by his father, and then he stood by rather shyly, without looking at the beautiful lady, all his vivaoity suddenly gone. He was quite eclipsed for the time by the quiet Gerald, who shook Madame de Lanory's hand warmly in both his, and begg- ed her to sit down on the ohair he brought, and hung over her affectionately when she had done so. The ladies rather held aloof, as if feeling that there must be something improper in this beauty, this stateliness, and the devotion they excited in the less particu. lar sex. (TO BE CONTINUED.) CH AFTER XVII, As soon as they were alone together in the -little salon, Mr Beresford laid his fee- ble hand on the back of a chair near the fire, and begged Madame de Lawry to take it. • 44 Thank you," said she, seating herself 011 an ottoman that was nearer to his own armchair, "1 would.rather sit where we can see each other." "Certainly, madame." The green shade he habitually wore over his eyes made the privilege onesided ; but Madame de Lanory watched the little she could see of her companion's face as she went ori talking. " You will forgive my intrusion, I think, Mr Beresford, when I tell you that I hay e just learned that a man in whom you are as much interested es 1 am lies under sus- picion of a crime which you know and I know he has not committed." ' Mr. Beresford's perfect self-possession for a. moment loft him. "Indeed 1" he said huskily, without look- ing at his visitor ; "your :statement is very sensational, very startling, madame." "It is more than that A warrant has been issued in England for,the arrest of the man Blair, on suspicion of his being the murderer of Mr. Shaw. Now, 1 know and you:know that the real criminal was quite another person"—whether this were a ran- dowshot or not, its effect on the paralytic wee:sudden and strong—" and I. want you to help me, not to bring the guilty man to justice, but to prevent his crime from hurt- ing the innocent." " Really, I—I am not in a fit state of health to bear all this exciting talk—" " You are strong enough to hear one thing: Mr. Shaw was murdered at the very time when' he was going to prove Blair's innocenoe, and to befriend Gerald Staunton actively. On learning the death of the man on whom he relied, Blair has not dared to show hien- self, and therefore he now lies under sus- picionboth of the theft and of the murder. Gerald remains in his old position of under- paid clerk. The wrongs of these two men nave to be righted." ".Very likely, madame, but it's not my work." The paralytic's manner grew cooler and drier as the lady became more excited. " Then it will be mine." Mr. Beresford slowly shifted his position a little, and leaned back as if amused, "Most kind and womanly. If talking will do them any good, I am sure you will do your very best for them." "Believe me, it would be so much wiser of you to do the work tor me." never guessed a riddle in my life, madame, so if you will explain your melo- drama) threats—for I suppose you are threatening' me—we shall get over the ground quicker." "Very well, then. Your philanthropy in keeping Gerald Staunton here is a sham; you have no personal regard, no pity for him whatever. You took him up merely to keep him off the track of his father's murderer." Her words might have been the ravings of a madwoman for all the effect they had on the paralytic. There was a pause before he answered her. sure his f ather's murderer ought to be very much obliged to me." Madame de Lanory was not more easily disconcerted than he. "You have asked nothing, madame." "1 ask you, first, to recompense • Gerald Staunton for his six long years of exile and misfortune, for his clouded name, for his services to you—by giving him your daugh- ter in marriage. I ask you to find some means—I don't care what means—to rescue the man Blair from his position as a suspect- ed thief and murderer' "Your demands are certainly modest. And what is to be my reward? The satis- faction of having done two good deeds ? I am -not philanthropic." "Rut you are prudent, Let M. de Bre- •teuil know what my demands are, and ask him whether it would not be better to am cede to them." "It is ten years since you Were the mistress of M. de Bretenil—you see my knowledge of your history is as ex- tensive) and more accurate than yours of mine —may not your influence over him have waned since then ?" " My power over him has not Ten years ago I knew one desperate secret of him ; now I know two. Shall I give you the de- tails of both I have no doubt you kno w enough about them to be able to judge of my accuracy." Madame de Lawry sat upright and spoke calmly ; she might have passed for a statue of Justice butlfor the steady are that burned in her gray eyes, which betrayed that this ives not with her a mere question of Abstract right and wrong. The paralytic, moved nervously in his chair. "For God's sake be quiet," said he, in a kW voice watching her uneasily from under the shad:over hie eyes. "What difference can it make to you who Marries my daughter ?" " We'll gay it is a whim of Mine that Gerald should Marry her, Knowing my hsstory as you say you do, you will not be eurprieed that I have vehinits." There Was jaat' a 'shade of increased Con- fidence in her tone, and the peralytio no - deed this:, "And what if I refuse, madame ?" " Then 1 shall use my knowledge of M. de Bretenirs wrists as 1please." " And hove will that effect Me ?" She was trying to think of an excuse for escaping from the throng of laughing ladies , - and was yet in doubt of what reception she might meet from Mr. Beresford, who had retired again to tho inner salon, when the door was flung roughly open by Delphine, who ushered in, without announcement, a lady whose appearance, unknown as she was, cast all the chattering group into si- lence. Tall, beautiful, majestic, she advanced into the roost like a queen her heavily jet- ted black !silk train making subdued. Music as elle Moved. Madame do Lanory 1" cried Gerald eagerly. And he sprang toward her with a light la his face Which emitted poor little Peggy's eyes to 1111 with angry jealous teats. " lam afraid 1 have come at the wrong time, Gerald," said the visitor, hi a low voice, glanoing at the crowd doping WW1, The Common Lot. There is a place no love can reach, • There b a time no voice can teach, There is a chain no power can break, There is a sleep no sound can wake. Sooner or later that time will arrive, that place will wait for your coming, that chain must bind you in helpless death, that sleep Must fall on your senses. But thousands every year , go untimely to their fate, and thousands more lengthen out their days by heedful, timely care, For the failing 'strength, the weakening organs, the wasting blood, Dr. Pierce's Golden Medical Discov- ery is e. wonderful restorative and a prolong - et of strength and. life. It purifies the blood and invigorates the se stem'thereby fortify- ing it against disease. Of druggists. He who learns the rules of wisdom with- out conforming to them in his life is like a man who labored in his fields but did not sow. Famous Women. It is a significant fact that most of the women who have achieved fame in art, lit- erature, or " affsira," have enjoyed vigorous health. This shows that the mind is never capable of the severe and continued applica- tion necessary to creative work, unless the body is at its beat. The woman who as- pires to fill an exalted place among her as- sociates, must be free from nervous debility and female weaknessee. Dr. Pierce's Favor- ite ,Prescription will banish these, and it is warranted to restore those functional har- monies which are indispensable to health. As a specific for all those chronic weaknesses and ailments peculiar to women, it is un- equalled. There is this difference between happi- ness and wisdom : he that thinks himself the happiest man is really so ; but he that thinks himself the wisest is generally the greatest fool. Great Little Men. Some of the greatest Men that ever lived were of small stature and insignificant ap- pearance. The reader will readily. recail many ittstances. Very email are Dr. Pierce's Pleasant Purgative Pellets, but they are far more effective than the huge, old-fashioned pills which are so difficult to swallow and sq harsh in their action. The "Pellets" are gentle and never cantle constipation. For liver, stomach and bowel derangements thsy'have no equal, The Austrian Crown Princess Stephahie, while curling her hair reliantly, ran the hot durling tongs against her eyelip and was laid up for a week. She should hire a meld. Ocean Steamship Atsgengers Via New York should take the Erie as it is not only the shortest and beet line, but lends people alone to the piers of the leading :steamship companiee. XII bhy- ing tickets!, ask for the Erie. An Triali terrier belonging to George Gar, kin, of Bebbacombe Beach, Englend, watches for Misokerel from a high'bluff near the hotel, and becks and points when a school appears.