The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1885-01-17 00:00:00

CHAPTER XXXIX.

ON THE TRAIL.
Tricks, shifts, evasions will not profit thee.
Relentlessly 1 fol ow on thy path
Go where thou wilt my hate will find thee, and
just rever go have way.
HR coroner, with his jury of twelve good men and
,yue, is an entirely unknown official north of the
#weed, Where " crowner's quest law " has no being.
state a things not altogether without its advan-
taps, perhaps, when some of the sapient verdicts
l'e'ullied by coroner's juries in our more favoured
Portion of the island cdme to be considered, though
not lacking drawbacks of its own, the chiefest
Vaictong which may be numbered the undoubted
aeility it affords for the concealment of crime,
nd the safer exercise of the secret poisoner's devilish
art.

T9e) there is a certain individual with a high-
ding and imposing title whose duty it is, under
ertain circumstances, to institute enquiry into any
eases of sudden or violent death that may come
I.lllder his knowledge, but the PrOcurator-Fiscal
.`_es not as a matter of course make such enquiry
!ithout any grounds, and in Mrs. Grxme's case
there did not appear to be any that called for his
Interf rente
ta,The old lady's death had been very sudden, cer-
e.'nlY, bet hardly to be called unexpected, since Dr.
Vaenherson, who had attended her for many years,
long Since, with Scotch bluntness, named
ltri'r that she held her life on the frailest tenure, and
etnY- the slightest-shock woald probably be
,Tha'al, an announcea.ent which she received with as
coolness as it was male
d:tlfaY be sac" she had replied. calmly. "You
ken sae' muckle that it's nee use disputing
.Your wor 1. Pm an auld body the noo, and canna
ZPeet mony mair wars o' life at the test. A few
air or less makes little difference."
Dr. Macpherson, helping
P,Q'haps not, in the long run," grittily re -
snuff irntuel hin3self to a huge
;Zell of snuff as he grved with something of admi-
t, his keen, twinkling eye at the woman evho
e tad listcn so unmoved to a fiat that might have
r:„e esed some touch of terror even in the strongest
N,,s4' "At the same tiMe madam, I au; pose you
10ould not, more then the majority of us, desire
meet the common fate of mankind quite un-
v"Pared
•44`rid what for no F" sharply demanded Mrs
nle• "Is it for us to fash oursels aboot when
an",' how we should gang awa ? The Almighty liens,
re 7 t a' in his hands No but Id rather close
/ e'en at hame, and ten I was to be carried oot
t
. hose I IoN e -eh, but what's the use o' haver-
my time comes I hope I shall be ready
And if a life passed in to-
cardsa, ity and kindliness to-
artem her fellow-creatures, untainted by selFsline s
,11:,narrove bigotry of creed, could suffice to render
L'pared, then surely Euphemia Cheeme made
ere idle vaunt. Her death, if startling to those
ori°l2llcl her in its suddenness, was at least a painlf is
if e' and the moiirners who attended her funeral,
?let lend and clamourous in the exi ression of their
grief were Sincere.
lin here was no enquiry, as has been said. Dr.
hei,P,herson's knowledge of the old lady's pre arious
a"e) and Angus Cameron's certificate that devil
cr due to natural causes, quite suffice], and Mrs.
14 me was laid peaceably in her last resting-place.
r• Sartoris attended the funeral, and then bade
th" to make ready to return home with him, which
dtd the following day.
LaLhe had egged hen to be allowed first to visit
ref° a Desmond, but this re nest her guardian
nm.i. in a manner against which it was useless to
4PPeal.
ler" I have made every necessary enquiry respecting
f r case," he told Eye. "If there was any room
•1,14' doubt as to the truth of the accusation against
Z,el', or even if I saw the smallest particle of evidence
Vo,at it was the result of ignorance or misfortune,
;07,neuld,,help her myself by every means in my
ellouird; tnough even in that case I doubt whether I
h 4-ri 0w you to hold any communication with
are" hit are you eure -quite sure, gnarly, that you
„„onot condemning her too hastily F" asked Eve,
eawn . little as she had really cared for Laura Des
-
had all that impulsive generosity of youth
ri.,',lch prompts pity for the unfortunate. "There
tiT be some mistake, you know."
hi•lt this Mr. Sartoris would not admit. Wounded
is most sensitive point-his self-esteem - by the
;relation that he had allowed himself to be im-
4Bed upon by the artfully-concocted st-ry of an
•ef:enturess, he had yet sufrcient sense of justice
a's4a fair play to enquire fully into the matter. But,
he told Eve, his enquiries had satisfied him that
46hadow of excuse could be found for the culprit
0 had so egregiously deceived him.
f. And herein, perchance, lay the "very head and
•ront of her offending," so far as Mr. Sartoris was
ic"cerned. To be so bamboozled and hoodwinked
,
a woman! He felt that he could never forgive
himself; but still less could he find condonation
for the sinner who had begliled him, whose artful
wiles had lowered him in his own esteem, and made
him feel an uncomfortable conviction that his judg-
Ment was not of the infallible nature ho had plumed
himself hitherto upon possessing.
80, and for other reasons of equal cogency, Mr.
~.%rtoris not only refused the pet mission Eve sought,
Sit persuaded that it could answer no good pur
rse, refrained from procuring speech himself with
aura Desmond, by which omission he ceF airily
Th'ePrived himself of the opportunity of enlighten
•Febl upon certain matters that afterwards wenttO _
trouble and perplex him by his want of
nwledge.
tie 1114 he 'could not foiesee or guess of how much
V.lnlportance his neglect might be, and Laura, left to h
tnettarifate by him, found help from a quarter e
e
expected.
10 s';e°rg.o. Sartoris having once made up his mind,
bt%no time in taking action, but started for Eng-
.o)rata in search of the evidence he hoped to obtain.
tath"e pbint he was quite decided-to let his
th er know nothing of the steps he was tal ing till
eY were brought to a successful issue. This,
•ll:lever, he found to be a more difficult matter than
ci 'Ad anticipated, for he could find no trace of
tearence Woodville's movements, and was at last
eiela,'''.l37 inclined to throw up the task in despair,
for;i? .ka chance meeting with an old acquaintance
yainiey".ed him with the clue he had long sought so
To
Tufton and he had been companions in the
fields at Eton, and after the former was
upon the world with a commission in the
It gr., the old friendship was continued for a time.
at,": leug since ceased, however, for Tom Tufton
'olfB
~..eared suddenly, after a brief, headlong course
for -14-avagance, and George Sartoris had almost
,he gotten that such a man had ever existed when
acco-ted by a dandified, resplendent per-
Alle fl -ge the Strand, whom he soon recognised as
ex-Guardsman.
he' ,iLle world seems to be using you well, Tom,'.'
'tek,7'erred, after the first hurried greeting had
--elliare and Mr. Tufton turned back with him.
ueard that you were-in fact--"
Xeett c'ne irretrievably to pot. Don't mince the
,old fellow," said the other. "Yes, I went a
mocker, and no mistake. Head over heels
'deleia,e Pretty a mess of entanglements as ever poor
thieworld. But I've pulled through it all
17,°11 Bee.”
no?ueY strolled on some time together, comparing
~,ret; till at length a random remark roused George
if -718 to more vivid attention.
6 Dell! a theatri al agent :" he repeated.
lirecactly," answered Mr. Tufton. " One must
thi ' You know. I tried my hand at all sorts of
tattegs before I settled down in that line, but nothing
Year,e,eded with me, till one day- some half-dozen
85 ago now- I encountered a fellow as hard up
for,naYself who proposed that we should join oar
of il`allies and establish an agency. We had neither
Bo anYthing to lose, and it was worth the venture,
bi4in aßreed. My partner is a capital fellow for
,atiere:e. I knew something of theatrical matters,
make a long story short- we prospered
ear hopes. He does all the office work, I
•4,ta everything out of doors, which means any
61eaa',"17where on the face of the globe. 'Why,
\‘hol I hardly know what it is to spend a
ft lee week in London. One day in Paris, another
1' lenn the ni e next rushing off to St. Petersburg,
aYs on the move in search of novelties,
'?Uce , es having to make a trip to the States, ard
ieo,'4,et year that was-overland to Australia,
Inoia (n mute roila tout! I've cut the
ed h 11
a s of aristocracy and gone over to the.
ceol`:l,,,vagabondage, and a very jolly life I find it,
" iqe`eu you."
Aose tuil doubt," remarked Mr. Sartoris. "I sup-
*very onen.Yon kno et something-more or less- of
in the profession F"
v"unut doubt. Those of any note, that is.
,„
zt-lk as if you had some special interest."
Do you know man named Wood-
" What ;11
--ofrence Woodville?"
II Niv
‘)114 cell' I can't say that I know him. I met him
r twice when I was in Melbourne, and saw
at act. IT
tdi th -e was rather a favourite then, but not
ehligea e ta)rt for a London audience, as I was
e 40 ter e •
ai
Ah! then m only a few weeks ago."
`` Islet "en You have seen him?"
4 p,diZaetly. Ile wrote to the from Edinburgh:7
e Thaysnrgh ! What on earth is he doing there !"
4011 more than I can tell you, thouqhare
44 Y ranch interested in his movements , --
than I • explain t
tto Ilea can just now."
tb Yrs' the On tell you th s much. Ayston, of the
wreokh iS a regular correspondent of mine, an I
c'edv'n 'l3l happen to be aware that Clarence
744, quitle°,,iB. playing some deep game. What, is
15'ntor at":aln but it is a fact that he is a constant
a y 1,11 %the house of a Sirs. Greme, and as theta-,
e. lady living there who is supposed to to
" Object is not so difficult to guess at."
teal, don't
ser:Tultori shook his happen to know the young lady's
Are.,, s head.
grePhed• " but if - as I fancy from your

manner—You iiispect bei; to be allyoriir tale iüi
interest in, I should advise you to make sure. I
know very little personally of Clarence Woodville.
as I said, but I have heard rumours regarding him
of a very shady description, and I'm not at all sure
that he isn't married already. At least 'there was a
woman—a deuced fine actre=s' too, she'd make her
mark here —who was ostensibly his wife."
"Thanks, very Much for your information," said
Mr. Sartoris, hurriedly. "I may be mistake.n, but
I fancy it is just whet I required. At all events. I
shall lose:no time in malzing sure."
Nor did he, for the following morning sainuni
standing before the door of the house from which
01 ly Ale day praviously, his father had t& en Eve
'I rein hard, their trains passing each other during
the night. He had of course heard nothing of what
had taken place, and was much surprised at the
sombre aspect of the house, more surprised still when,
on announcing his identity to Jennie, who answered
his summons, he learned the circumstances connected
with Mrs. Gra me's death and the arrest of Laura
Desmond.

He did not stay long, for he could gather noth'ng
more from the poor old woman, though he questioned
her closely, as to :what had become of Clarence
Woodville. She had not seen him, sh 3 said, since
the day after the death of her mistress, and she was
sure Miss Eve had not either, as she had never left
the house till she was taken away by the elder Mr.
Sartoris.

Perhaps, however, Laura Desmond could aid him,
be thought, and he started off at once to the prison
where she was confine'. There was some little dif-
ficulty at first in procuring admission, but he sue •
ceeded at length in obtaining the requisite per-
mission, and was conducted to the ce'l wherein
Laura awaited her formal surrender to the French
authorities.,
She looked up with a half relieved expression
when she heard the name of her visitor, but this
gave place to sullen indifference on seeing a stranger,
though she received him with as much coolness and
self-possession as though she had been in a drawing-
room instead of a prison cell.
"I have not the honour of your acquaintance,"
she said, with cold politeness. "May I ask the
oh;ect of this visit
George Sartoris made haste to explain, and was
soon oonvinced that he had been right in coming.
At the mention of Clarence Woodville he saw a
dark, vindictive/ look settle on the woman's face,
though otherwise it was fixed and impassable in ex-
pression. he heard what he had to say, however,
attentively, if without comment, and before he left
he induced her to credit his assertion that he would
aid her if in return she would give him help in the
direction he required.
"I daresay you mean it," she answered, after a
moment's thought; "but, you forget one thing.
how am I to be of use to you while I am shut up
here ?"

"I have considered that. Not much, of course.
I must see what can be done in tho first place with
those people in Rouen whom you—you--
" Swindled," she suggested, coolly. "Give it the
proper name. I shan't be offended."
"Well, say to whom yon are indebted. Perhaps
I may be able to bring them to terms. At least I
will make the attempt if you do what I require in
return."

Laura Desmond needed very little persuasion to
promise her aid in such a cause. Her desire for
revenge would almost have led her to do so even
without reward, and when Georg?, Sartoris left her
it was with the promise to procure her release if
that were at all within the range of possibility.
"Though I am not at all certain that the law
would not look upon it as a sort of compounding of
felony," he muttered. " However, that's the law's
affair, not mine. If I can only lag that fellow by
the heels I shall certainly be doing good service to
society at large, and so make amends. There is no
time to spare, however."
Nor was there, and he hastened back to Rouen,
with as little delay as trains and boats would allow,
where his first step was to seek Lord Lytwood
and recount all he had heard of him, and they
then sought out Carrie, who, however, asked for
a couple of -days to consider her course in the
rr atter.

With this request they were forced to comply,
and meanwhile Mr. Sartoris, aided by Lord Lyn
wood's purse, contrived to settle matters so favour-
ably for Laura Desmond that on her arrival shortly
afterwards in custody she was released, no one
appearing to prosecute.
When, however, the two gentlemen again sought
Carrie on the day appointed, she was not to be
found, and they returned to England, acompanisd
by Laura Desmond, more than ever itsolved to
leave no stone unturned for the frustration of whate
ever scheme Clarence Woodville was bent on carry-
ing out.

CHAPTER XL,
• BROKEN VOWS.
Thou hast forgot thy vow,
I give thee back its token
'Tis b'it a inem'ry now
Of pledges lightly broken.
A FEW weeks later and Leonard Grant was onck
more at home, returned from his fruitless quest to
find himself repulsed by the woman he loved, of
whose love for him he had felt assured, without one
word of reason for the change towards him.
That is, from Eve herself.
Mr. Ss.rtoris was not so retident. After his
return from Scotland with Eve he had obtained
some clue from his ward's own admissions which
partly accounted for the dejection into which her
spirits were fallen, though she would by no means
confide in him altogether, and from the old lawyer
Leonard gathered that an unknown rival—whose
name and position Eve obstinately refused either to
divulge or give any reason for withholding—had
supplanted him.
In vain, now that the embargo was taken off his
speech by Mr. Sartoris, did Leonard plead his cause
with all the impassioned fervour that had been so
long pent up only to find now fuller utterance. Eve
would have none of them. He could not understand
her, for at times there was a light in her eyes, a glad
smile of welcome when he came, that seemed to
warrant his dearest hopes, but almost directly after-
wards the light would fade, the smile give place to
a cold, set expression of indifference, and he felt
himself as far removed from success as ever.
Still he would not quite despair, though her man-
ner towards him was so changed, so much more
reserved than of old, that at times he almost ( om-
pletely lost heart, and told himself that he must
have erred in ever imagining that she cared for him
sa"e as a brother.

Mr. Sartoris allowed him every opportunity to
seek an explanation, but Eve avoided anything
like private conversation in every way, so that it
was several days before he succeeded in finding her
alone. One evening, however, about a wee; after
his return, Leonard appeared unexpectedly at Chis-
wick: and found Eve walking in the garden, with
no one near.

With a quick beating of her heart the girl saw
him !approach, and strove Vepcape, but he was too
quick for her, and, drawing Ail arm within his own,
he looked down sadly but fondly upon the bowed
head of his companion.
"What has come between us, Eve? " he asl:cd,
slowly. "Why do you shun me -as you have
done?"
She made no answer, she could not at the
moment, though she would have given the world
to lay her head upon his breast and ma' e a con•
fession. Bat how could she? What would he
think of her? Better to let him fancy her cold and
ficl,le than the truth.
"if you would only speak, only tell me in what I
have oended," he went on. "I know not how—
and yet- is it true, what I have heard, that you
have given your heart elsewhere ? "
"ion have no right to ask me that," she replied,
trying to assume an air of dignity, though the
attempt was not so successful as she could have
wished.
. "Right: "he bitterly repeated. "Well, perhaps
not, except that I have been fool enough to believe.
But no matter for that. I have deceived myself,
it seems. Still, as a friend-- if nothing more—l
may at least claim the right of thinking of your
happiness.'
"My happiness ' exclaimed Eve. "Do you not
think that it is better consolted by leaving me in
peace? What has my happiness, or the reverse, to
do w.th you—now ?''
She spoke wildly, excitedly, for in truth she
hardly knew what she was saying, how harsh her
words must sound, and Leonard was stang to
retort.
. "Not much, perhaps," he answered. "And
yet-- Ah, darling!" he continued, a rush of ten-
derer feeling checking the angry words that rose to
his lips. "Do not be bard upon me, do not reject
me altogether., I I lovel. you- I have loved you sa
long, so faithfully--"
She interrupted him here, laying her other hand
upon his arm with a little gesture of suppli -ation.
"Hush, hush ! " she said, in a frightened tone.
" You must not speak to me like that. I must not
listen to you."
But Leonard Grant would not be stayed.
" Will speak, and you have no choice but to
hear me," he replied, and though Eve dreaded what
must follow, longed to escape, it was pleasant to feel
that she was powerless, to know that here was one
whose will was stronger than her Own. "You know,
you must know, Eve, all that you are and
have been to me; knowing th t, judge
what must be the shock of such tidings as
your guardian has given me, tidings- such
as dealt a death-blow to my happiness for years, if
not for ever, if they are true. But I cannot, will
not believe, unless your own lips tell me so, that it
can be so. Ah ! you will not speak! You cannot
deny it ! "
"Heaven help me! no," murmured the poor girl.
Leonard released her, abruptly, and moved a few
paces away.
"it is true, then!" he cried." "And you are
false. How could you, Eve—how could you prove
so heartless! You, who must have seen that all my
hopes, all my future happiness, were bound up in
the love I bear you!"
Eve turned her head away to hide the weary,
pained look upon her features as she ansWered, in
low accents:
"You never told me so before."
"Not in so many words, perhaps. But that was
not my fault, for I was bound to silenee by a pro-.

"na—ise forced tip= me. Besides, I thouicht they
were not needed between us two. My love for you
has grown with me, but I could not take advantage
of your youth and inexperience to draw you into
an engagement without your guardian's sanction,
and that he would grant only upon &gain con-
ditions. And yet] I loved you always—muSt ever
love you. Can you not believe me ?"
"Yes, yes I do, Leonard; indeed I do," answered
the girl, almost unable to restrain her sobs. " 2ut
it is too late to speak of that now. I—l did not
know."

"You must have seen, else why should you think
suth coldness necessary as that with which you
h :ye lately treated me ?" asked Leonard reproach-
fully. "Would it not have been more natural, if you
believed I only regarded you as a sister, to treat me
with welcome? What should you fear, to make you
avoid me as you haVe; if you had not guessed at my
true feelings towards you ? What do you imagine
were mine, when, on hasting here full a joyous
anticipation, I was met .with the tidings that you
had in secret engaged yourself to another rupn,
whose very name you refuse to make known? Who,
what is he? Good heavens! do you imagine that
your guardian, all of us, will consent to your acting
so madly as to marry a man of whom We lq:l9W
nothing ?" _ _ _

(To bo continued.)