The Herald, 1910-10-07, Page 77.4f4:f Ak,u„t
4 0}14;4,04%.#4,V +a,0l 1141..,S,Vstr•!1 IIIV 0a+I P...ur4:?et4tV,siC11`+. 'a •l ' t e.eeete {t:•.: ..
He stopped short in time, as the door
opened and ,loan glided in.
"We13. Joan!' he said, with the gal-
vanized senile, "been on the cliffs, eh?"
Joan inclined her head and passed to
the window. then turned and came back
to him.
"Colonel Oliver, can I have my divi-
dend money? I"—and she smiled half
apologetically—"I have been set longing
for a new dress by seeing the girls' pat-
terns?"
"Eli? Dividend money!" said the col-
onel. "Yes, yes, of course, Joan. I'll get
ie in a day or two."
He had drawn it that morning, and it
consisted of the two five -pound notes
which he had so generously lavished up-
on Julia and Emmeline.
Joan gave him a little inclination of
the head had passed to the other end of
the room, took up a book and sat her-
self down for a spell of dreamland; but
the two girls, who never read anything
but the newspaper and fashion maga-
zines, kept up such a, continual chatter
that reading was impossible, and Joan
put her book clown and strolled out of
the room into the hall.
The rain had ceased, the wind drop-
ped, and a broad patch of moonlight bell
across the oilcloth.
Joan's eyes brightened, and taicing her
thick croak of Irish frieze from the sand
she wrapped it round her and wen; out
closing the door after her quietly.
CHAPTER II.
Ae bliss Oliver had remarked. .loan
wee balifferent to weather; she was
never so happy as when onteide the
Elms, and preferred the eliffs or the
beach, on the bitterest and most tempes-
tuous evenings, to the sham luxury and
make-believe comfort of the drewing-
room at home.
Almost always alone, unless one of the
fishermen's children, with whom she was
a general favorite, happened to be tod-
dling by her side, Joan wandered about
Deereombe, sometimes with a book in
her hand, but oftener communing with
her own thoughts.
That they were not very gets or joy-
ous eommunings may be gathered from
the slight sketch of the Oliver menage,
which has been given.
For Joan, life was a strange mystery.
:Most girls, she knew, possessed affec-
tinr.atc parent, and loving homes;
friends with whom they could associate
and exchange ideas; but of her parents
Joan knew little or nothing.
Her father, she _knew, had been in Col.
Oliver's regiment, and had left-, her to
Lis care.
Of her mother the colonel rarely if
ever spoke, and all that Joan knew
about her was that site had died in giv-
ing birth to Joan, her float child.
It was doubtful whether the colonel
ltint.eelf knew anything of her bother,
for Captain Ormsby had kept his marri-
age a secret, and had only confided to
Colonel Oliver on hid death bed, the fact
Hutt a motherless child belonged to the
dying mean.
The Elms stood well up on the hill,
within sight of several others of the new
house.
Descending the road ana turning
abruptly to the left, Joan wee making
her way through the rows of cottages
which formed the village; but sudden-
ly recollecting that by this time the sim-
ple folk were all asleep, and that she
should set the dogs barking and rouse
the village, she struck off into a lane to
the right, and following it for a minute
or two, lost sight of the sea.
A lodge and a pair of massive iron
gates stood before her, and through the
gates a broad carriage ()Ave, shining yel-
lowy in the moonlight. It was the road
leading to the Wold. And if she were fa -
miner with it, Joan abstractedly pushed
the gate open and walked on through
.the avenue. Suddenly the avenue cess
ed, and at a sharp angle a magnificent
view broke a vision on her sight.
It was the old house, white—almost
silvery white, or like Parian marble—
in the: moonlight, •and the sea with the
cliffs in the background.
Every window, every tracery, almost
every ivy leaf on the old building seemed
to stand out as if carved, and at the
beet: glittered and shimmered the now
placid sea.
Joan stood still for a moment enrap-
tured, her color corning and going, and
her lips apart. She knew the view well
but she doubted if she had ever seen it
to greater advantage than to -night.
The house was unoccupied, the win-
dewe dark and black. Joan knew some-
thing of its history, and as she sauntered
along pondered over it in her dreamy,
absent fashion.
'Mounting the steps of the terrace, she
sat herself in a nook formed by one of
the lions that stood rampant at the head
of the steps, and looked up at the house
and at the sea beyond.
The Wold had been since the four-
teenth eentury the home of the Villiars,
until it had passed by a side line to the
Earl of Arrowfield, a Viliars by family
though an Arrowfield by title.
Of this Earl Deercombe knew little.
Following the example set hint by his
grandfathers, on the Villiars side, the
Earl of Arrowfield had led a life which
it would be gross flattery to call any-
thing but right down bad and vicious;
then he had married suddenly, and his
visits to the Wold, which had been in-
frequent, ceased altogether.
Deercombe heard that his wife was
dead and that she had left a daughter,
and later on came the tidings that the
daughter was dead also.
Still the old earl did not trouble the
Woad, exeeptieeg for a couple of days a
few months before his death.
He had no son, and the heir to the
immense wealth of the Arrowfields was
a cousin --Stuart, Lord Villiars.
Of him, also, Deereombe knew little.
He had come down once to see the Earl
of Arrowfield, and the two men—the
old and the young one—had quarreled
on the first evening, and parted with
the mutual agreement to avoid one an-
other's society for the future.
On eondition that the young earl
should not trouble him, the old earl
made him an allowance. and promised
to leave hint the Arrowfield money; the
title, of course, would come to Stuart
Villiers whether the earl liked it or not.
After this visit of two days only to
the Wold., the Earl of Arrowfield betook
bimeelf to his favorite health resort in
the Pyrenees, and considerately died
there.
Of Stuart Villiars, though Deercombe
knew nothing, it had heard much very
much, indeed. and little or nothing to
eonvince people that the hereditary vein
of daredevil reeklesrness had worked out
in the Villiers line.
The lawyer sent word to Stuart Vil-
liars, Earl 'Villiars, that the \Vold and
the Arrowfield money were now his.
IIe held a commission in a crack regi-
ment, whose fame for extravagance and
"ornamental" vices he lout contributed
to maintain; people spoke of him with
bated breath, as one who recognized no
laws save those of his own momentary
whims and easily wearied desires.
IIe was, sal, the world said, a gambler
and a roue,'` "a dangerous man" in every.
sense of the word; and it was only
those who knew himintimately who add-
ed that Stuart, Lord Villiars, was a
perfect stranger to fear, that he would
spend his last shilling to help a friend,
that if women fell by his heed it was
those who east themselves at his feet,
and that with all his faults the present
Lord \'miters was a considerable im-
provement upon those of his race who
had gone before him.
Colonel Oliver and the Carnfords, whe
lived in a villa at the foot of .the hill,
were never tired of talking about him;
and it was believed that if there was
anyone in the universe whom Colonel
Oliver considered his superior in intellect
and the conduct of a billiard cue, it was
Stuart Villiars.
Of course, only faint rumors of his
character as set forth fully by fame
had reached Joan, but she knew that
he was a wild and reckless man, and
she wondered—not knowing that the old
earl was dead and that Villiars was
the heir—she wondered where he was,
and whether he ever thought of the
beautiful place which his ancestors made
their home.
"If this place were mine," she mur-
mured, half aloud, "I should love every
stone in it. Why, I love it now as it is;
I, who am a stranger with no part or
lot in it," and she turned and looked
along the front that stretched toward
the sea.
As she did . so, she started and put
her hand up to her eyes, for she fancied
that she saw a light flash from one of
the windows.
That it was no fancy, but a fact, be-
came evident the next moment, for the
light appeared at the next window, and
gradually passed from window to win-
dow until it reached the great oriel
which lighted the eentral hall,
Witha spring she reached the steps,
and .was about to run down them, when
she heard the bolts of the huge door
creak back and the key turn in the
lock.
Quick as thought she stepped back to
her old position, and, crouching down fn
the deep shadow, as completely hidden
as if she had been inside the stone lion,
she fixed her eyes .upon the door.
The locks were old and rusty, and the
key turned slowly, and it seemed en age
before the door opened.
But it was swung back at last, and
there emerged, not a couple of stalwart
burglars with the usual paraphernalia of
fur caps and crowbars, but a littta old
man.
He had a lantern in one hand and the
loeys i'n the other; and, d''liberatoly ex'
tinguishing the light, which was that
which Joan had seen through the win-
dows, he turned and locked the door.
Then he cause with a queer, quick hob-
ble to within almost hand's reach of her;
and, taking out a snuff-box, glanced
from under his, brows up avid down the
house,
RHEUMATISM CURED
Zana-Buk will give you relief !
when you have any deep-seated pain
In the joints, the back, the wrists or
e)sewbere, place a liberal supply of Zam-
13uk on the fingers or on the paint of
tiro hand and rub it in. The penetrating
power of this "embrocation -balm" is
very great. It kills pain and removes
stiffness. Mrs.. Prances Wyatt, of 25
Guy avenue, Montreal, says: "I have
found Zaln-Bolt mostsoothing and val-
uable in a very bad case of rheumatism,
and also for stiffness of joints and mils::
cies. 1 suffered long and acutely 1vom
rheumatism, and tried one liniment after
another in vain, T also took medicines
internally, but it remained for Zam-Buk
to effect a cure. I began applying this
balm whenevey I felt the . aches and
pains of rheumatism coming on, or felt
any of the stiffness. The result was
truly wonderful, Zarn-Buk seemed 10
Penetrate to the veryseat of the pains,
driving them completely out, and I am
now quite cured."
So many of the ordinary embrocations
and liniments are imperfectly prepared
and not sufficiently refined to penetrate
even the skin—much less the underlying
muscles. Zam-Buk is totally different.
7ant-Fink Is so refined, and its essences
and Juices so concentrated, that when
rubbed into the muscles for rheumatism,
sciatica, sprain, etc., its effect is very
quickly felt.
If rubbed on to the chest and between
the shoulders in cases of bud culd on the
chest, 'Lam -Bute will give relief. Apart
from its use as an embrocation, Zam-
13u1t will be found a cure fur all ordinary
forms of skin disease and injury. It
cures eczema, rashes, ringworm, cold
sores, ulcers, abscesses, citapptd hands,
;,Iles, varicose veins, cuts, burns, bruises,
etc. All druggists and stores at 50c., or
pont free front Zam-i3uk Co., Toronto,
for price. Refuse ltarrul intltatiuns,
"Strange, strange!" he stuttered. "Can
I have left any place tweeareh,'d? J)id
the old fool change his mind at the last
moment? Did he burn it?. If so, why
dict he conic here—why did he write to
me Curse the; rheumatism! If it
hadn't been for that 1'd hays- been by hie
ride, as 1 always haa been, and --merci-
ful heaven!" •ht: brok? . i to excl.,au---•
"what's that?"
And Joan saw hint wring around as ii
he had been shot.
She turned her lead to look, and a
thrill len through her.
tnobser•ved by either of them, almost
noiselessly, in fact, a mtu had come
from behind the dietunt corner of the
terrace. and stood leaning against the
balustrade looking up et the.hou,o.
For a moment or. .Ivo he stood p-
fectly motionless, i+"is face "rturned Hoax
her. The figure w s tall .•uid wrapped
in a travelling ulster,
The air and. bea•Ln 1 of the figure,
even as it leant nga:tpt, the balu•urad,'
in perfect indulenr•e, 'were eloquent of
commend, and roan Wqa picturing to
herself what the fare ru:mht he like,
when lie turned, trial the muo:dieht. fat: -
lug full upon leis f et(tnree, math' Inaba.
conjecture tumeeessary.
It was it strikingiv handsome flee, the
handsomest ,Joan bud ever even; slightly
pale, with a heavy er x•:taehe and large.
grave eyes; it wets tie' face- of a g'ntl,-
man, an arietoe,a.t.
Joan, though sae kn. w so little of the
world, recognized tie' haul -mark by iu-
stinct,
The next inrst:enl• elm heard his voice.
fie had caught dight of the shrunken
figure of the old nem standing in tie
moonlight, and there rose a quiet de-
mand from the proud lips:
" Wno goes there?'
"Merciful Heaven:" gasped the old
man. "It is the earl!"
Joan looked around with the wild
hope of flight, but it was impt:siibk,
unless she wished to be seen; and for
some strong though undefined reasan
Joan felt that she would give ranch,
suffer much, rather than glide out into
toherdlmoy onlight under the gleam of those
leyes.
She must wait!
OHA.P1'1;11 III.
At the sound of the voice so strangely
grave and musical, some responsive chord
seemed touched in Joan's heart; it was
the voieo of a man standing outside the
world, as it were, and the mildly de-
manded "Who goes there?" was delivered
in a tone of indifference which indicated
an entire absence of curiosity or interest
on the speaker's nart.
Joan felt, without knowing why, that
if the old man to wh•,nt it was addressed
had shuffled off w'ith'utt replying, the
speaker would not heal taken the trou-
ble to follow him or sell to him again.
For a moment the thin, bent figure
stood irresolute, the lantern sleeking in
his hand, then he struggled forward and
took off his hat with the air of extreme
deference which is paid to pri.necs.
"Lord Villiars? Yes, it tet you, my
lord," he said, bowing act every other'
word and making r,U elnious suveel>a
with his hat.
The tall figure lucked down et hint
calmly.
"Yes,I am Lord Vti tars," he assented.
"And you?"
"You don't remember nee, my lord,"
said the old mart, w:th a smile that
wrinkled lip his bee like crumpled
parchment; "and, dt'r me. that's not
surprising; it's marry year's same we xnet.
The last time Was when you paid a vi,:!t
here.» and he wave:} the inner rpt toward
the house. "The night the old earl and
yon—chem l'—••" and he coughed. •
"Quarreled," filled in Lord Villiars.
"1 reniember. You are the steward—the
lawyer; 1 forget your name, however."
"Craddock; my lord, Craddock," said
the old man, "Elijah Craddock, attor-
ney-at-law, agent to the Earl of Arrow-
field, my lord."
The eari nodded.
"1 remember you now, Mr, Craddock,'
he said.
There was a moment's silence, during
which the eta man surveyed the hand-
some face above him with his keen black
eyes.
"This is an unexpected meeting, my
lord," he said, deferentially.
Lord Villiars regarded him coldly.
"It is. 1 oertainly did not expect to
see you here."
"No, no," assented Mr. Craddock;
"but I got your lordship's telegram this
morning, and name down to—to—look
over the house."
"And you found everything all right,
I presume—although 1 suppose I should
say all wrong. The place has been shut
up for some time, has it not?" and he
glanced along the wide -stretching fa-
cade.
"For years, my lord, for years. The
Earl of Arrowfield came here for a few
days before he died, but only two or
three rooms were prepared for him."
The earl nodded.
"It is from you that I received notice
of my inheritance, I think?" he said.
"Yes, my lord, yes, I had that plea-
sure. It is a noble inheritance, my lord.
Upon estimation, simple estimation, the
estate must be worth nearly two mil-
lion."
"When did the earl make
leaving it to me "
Mr. Craddock thought for a moment.
"About eighteen months ago, my
lord," he replied.
"Eighteen months? Strange!"
"Strange, my lord "r" repeated the old
man, with coneealed curiosity.
"Yes," said the earl, carelessly.
"Sines that date 1 received a letter from
Lord Arrowfield, stating that he intend-
ed disinheriting me."
The old man turned his head, and
Joan saw the black eyes sparkle and
flash.
"No: Oh, impoe,:ible, my lord! . Why
the will
should he have disinherited your lord -
"For two reasons," said the earl.
"First beeauee we had quarreled, and
secondly beeause the earl gave a reason
for disinheriting ire."
"He gave a reason?" echoed the old
man, with suppreeeed eagerness. "Ind
that reason, my lord—"
Lord Villiars unbuttoned his ulster,
took some lettere from an inner pocket,
and tu:'ned them over,
"A. light ,mv lord, allow me!" said
Yr. Craddock, and he struck a match
anti lighted the lantern, and held it uta.
The earl selected a ietter, and, unfold -
,t, read:
My Dear Stuart. —The doctors have
signed my death warrant, wed as it 18
highly improbable that we chatl ever
meet again, I write to prepare you for
a great disappointment. I had promised
to make pea my heir: it was a promi.
given on the spar of the moment and
without ceeeida,otion. 1 am en old man,
and the;' ray at a certain age old luau
become rhil Dxt t; env cont knee has lea
morea, tender ne n chi:+i':;. Right is
right, Ice eo .,ur.ts .a" ev'!at they will.
and I must <'at ;la right tholr;h it (met i
yoe a bitter di•,.tppointntent, ii, not be
surpri-.cl th+'u if you levan from soar•
dreant of p,u.- c''l.t.~ to• fled that 1 !
h av(. left my wealth tothe'
la'r,on tt:•
tv]uonx it rightt'ou :y civ. You are
still young and i 1'' %• tbt :a.t tt, povcay.
I It ave you euelealr t•., pay your debts;
the rest, every penny of it, must go to
the 1 :esu who le e:tLitd to it. Fours
faitlrrt.l:y,
Arrowfield.
RHEUMATIC TIC PAINS
Not Date to Cold, Wet Weather--
The
eather—The Trouble is Rooted
in the Blood.
Many .people believe that the 'twin -
gee and tortures of rheumatism are
due to cold, damp, •ar wet weather,
and treat themselves by rubbing wird
lirlixents and lotions,- This le ea seri-
ous mistake, and one which allows
the disease to progress 'to sueh an
extent that 14 is 'often impossible to
get it out of the system. Jtlreu(tiatism
conics from poisonous acid in the
blood, and it must be cured through
the blood. All the liniments, and rub-
bing, and so-called electrical treat-
ment in the world will not cure rheu-
matism. This is' a medical truth
which every sufferer from this excru-
elating trouble should know, Rheu•
matism can only be cured by driving
the poisonous acid out of the blood,
and enriching' and purifying ib. There
in no medicine will do this so speed-
il v and surely as I)r. Williams' Pink
Pills. They actually make the new,
rictus red blood, which drives out the
poisonous acid, upbeilds the system.
and makes the sufferer well and
strong. It, is because they do this that
1)r. Williams' Pink Pills • have cured •
thousands of cases of rheumatism af-
ter all other treatment had failed. As
proof we give the ease of Mrs. F. X.
Boisseau, St. Jerome. Que., who says:
"Almost two years -ago I was a terrible
suffer from- rheumatism. The trou
ble first !orated in my right leg; ren-
dering all work impossible, and walk-
ing excessively difficult. 1 tried to
Clive myself by means of all sorts of
liniments and lotions, but without
avail. The trouble was eonstantiy
growing worse. and the pain more and
more unbearable. Finally the disease
spread to my other leg, and I was all
but helpless, and 1 was completely dis-
cc,ura,ged, thinking 1 would be a suffer-
er for the rest of my life. At thi'e
time 1 read an advertisement in our
home paper, of this trouble being cur-
ed by Dr. Williams' Pink Pills and I
&aided to try them. I first got four
boxes of the Pills anti after usiti'g
them for several weeks I could see
that the painful rheumatism was grad-
ually disappearing. 1 continued tak-
ing the Pills, however, until I had used
abrut a dozen boxes, when every
symptom of the trouble had disappear-
ed, and 1 conbl walk as freely as ever
1 dbl. and do my housework without
the least trouble. 1 hare no hesita-
tion in recommending •Dr. Williams' •
Pint; Pills to 'every rheumatic suffer-
er.,
Sold by all medicine dealers ,or by
mail of 50 eents a box, six boxes for
Re ,i) from The Dr. Williams' Medicine
(o.. l,roeltville, (Int.
There was a mehent's silence. The
moor fel full upen the itand::ome, care
less face of the younger man, and upon
the wrinkled, cuuning one of the old at-
torney; and Jean looked fro:n one to
the other.
She saw the old man's eyes glitter
greedily, and his hands twitch behind
his back before lie anoke.
"Ahem, my lord!" he said, with a dry
little laugh. `Au ---an extraordinary let-
ter. Extraardinary. It almost seems to
earl.
"No, no!" replied the ottorney; "cer-
tainly not. aaeurediy not. I was his
lordship's confidential man of bre-
mess, and should have been flee
first to 'know of it. And therefore
we may asinine that tate b t.er was
writtee to annoy or frighten your lord-
ship."
"It mulct do mit leer."
"Alvenl ccrtainl• 'lot, n:y lord; but,
me that--per-
don
h• t ---p tr-
' to a
bythrway,itocem.i
don me, 1 noticed your lordship kept the
letter loose amongst paper,, papers pro-
bably of little \ alai. 1. m ty ge, mis-
laid-•--•--"
`Sorbing more prob Ibis," sail the
earl, carelessly.
"A nd—ereereraaps your lordship
would prefer to commit it to my care
Lord Villiers held it nn •: t'te old
man's tr. mnlir ;; fins;: rs were extended,
claw like, to ciutc:t ia w:tt'n the earl
-drew it back,
"No," said tie, with a smite; "I receiv-
ed so few lettere front the old cavi that
1 think I should like 1. 1::e' titre as a
curiosity," tend he throat it in his pocleet,
Joan SAW the old men's hen.l draw
imek reluct tutiy, and the thin lips twitch
with cl ?appoxntment.
�s yon pleas'', my lor.i," h' said.
"Aral now, what arta your lordship's in-
structsic:^v for me?"
t'1 cosi know that 1 have any," said
the earl, slowly.
"But your lordship intends coming in-
to residence here, your lordship will want
„ the Wold rendered fit and suitable?"
"Shall 7?" said his lordship indolent-
ly, "I. am not so sure. It is a pretty
pine; the view 11 b'nut'fnl, bit 1 —
�_.. geniis
don't know, I don't think 1' have any
t6etttuoet bud lua,jn. dvre sI,cOI25 beeinstructions for you, Mi'. Craddock."
`:' nd._.01141 what does your lordship in-
trad to do:'"
'17tt' :earl looked et the view again,
knocked the ash off his cigar, and smil-
ed \leerily. •
eltnul.l be very inu:'h obliged to you,
t1v, ('ratldeck, if you would answer the
question for ire." he said, quietly: "1.
certainly ennnot answer the question for
my,e lf. (:ire me yonr London address,
pie st•, \\'bon 1 have arrived at a decl-
sit; on n'.y future plans 1 will write to
yet
Tile old nein tock a rand from a volum-
inous pocketbook, and handed it to the
ear 1.:end his lordship, without glancing
at it. pet it in his pocket.
"And this place?" said Mr. Craddock.
"\]rat's to be done with h,'"
(To 13e ('ontinned.)
'
quickly stops coutihs, cures colds,, bents
the throat and. 2B cents.
4 - O r
Aerial Postcards.
Have you seen the "aerial postcards"?
They (ire the latest novelty in the line,
and those who collect postcards are di -
lighted at the idea that before long they
will be able to add to their albums a
"carte aerietute," dropped from the
t'lontis by one of their friends passing in
an aeroplane. The new card bears a
printed request that the person finding
it on the ground will be so good as to
take it to the n:sarest post office, whence
it will be forwarded to its destination.
A spree is reserved for the mention of
the altitude at which the message left
the sender's hand', and the situation ,ap-
proximately, of the aureoltrne at the
time of senting. A photograph of the
ntonuplitne or biplane figures on the
other side.
It is said ti;at a reenest has been
made to the Minister of Posts and Tele-
grephs that it special stamp should be
created for these aerial missives, but so
far 1 have not bean] that 111. -\lilierand
Lae nretlertuken to rls.•---Paris eorres-
pendenee London Globe.
ORBIN FIIR 26 CENTS
A WEEK
We hose oc hand thirty -flat organs,
taken in exchange ea I:enttzman & Co.
pianos, which we meet sell regardless of
tote, to make loom in our store. Every
irtstrumeut has been thoroughly over-
hauled, and is guaranteed for five years,
and full amount will be allowed on ex-
change. The prices ran from $10 to 05,
foe such well-known makes as Thobeas,
Dominion, Karn, Uxbridge, Goderich anti
Bell. This is your chance to save money.
A poet card will bring full vartiealars,
Hein+zman ee Co., 71 Ling street east,
iTamJton.