The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1885-11-07 00:00:00

FALL morass IESEeVED.I
CATHERINE'S MISTAKE,

OR,
A SECRET FOR YEARS

CHAPTER XXIV.

A RESOLUTIOW.
creOwD of men and women turned out of the door—
alriong them Maxi"ll and Ferdinand, both tightly
grasped by the police; for, both being inexperienced
la the ways of a London "row," they were the soonest
eaPtured and easiest held. Maxall was terribly
alarmed. his dark face was almost as white as he could
!lave wished it to be; but De lijsimont was laughing
Eeartily at the scrape he had got into.
Sacre What is it that you are going to do to us?
vvill it be the treadmill or ropewalk, or whatever you
terrn it, for smashing' a few hats and breaking a few
' tilm? Hi, Monsieur !hands off! they are not scented
'With attarguhl."
George Ingestre saw his ward and the count's
• arother marched off without moving hand or voice
.111 their assistance. He merely spoke a few words to
Policeman, asking before what magistrate they would
aPpear next morning; and then, when the crowd had
gradually moved off in the rear of the prisoners, he too
'Went, but in an opposite direction, igncrant that he
Vas followed by a female.
Wandering purposelessly along the streets, thinking
what he had seen that evening, and a face—a
Vornan's face—which was behind him now, he came
be, fore long to a bridge crossing the river. It was
lilackfriars ; but the name was nothing to him. He
Stopped then, and looked over on the river, where the
4une moon was shedding dawn a pure light on the
black barges, and craft of all sizes and shapes which
floated beneath. Then he looked up at the midnight
12,11 Y, and down on the dark, deep, flowing current, and
thought of his life, as it had gone, was going, and had
Yet to come.

He felt that a crisis to all was not far off. Men do
IN this, when the highest wave in the river of their
rve,s is rapidly rolling towards them. He knew that
elouds were gathering round him ; that sin, and
"trouble, and shame, Formed the darkness folded in
!hem ; that his own great passions were standing up
.L 4 battle array against him, and that they might con-
quer and lay him low in his own and the world's esti-
Itation ; for he was not so fallen yet but that be could
'hate the evil thing he did. And thus he stood, looking
‘tlerwn upon the river, and seeing his own dark stream
of life imaged in its sluggish water, rolling on beneath
the bridge.
~So he stood, when a light touch on his arni roused
•gini from his solemn thought.

"George Ross Ingestre
„fle turned slowly round, and saw at his side the
woman who had followed him so far and so patiently.
•tle did not seem surprised, nor did he answer. He
'tally shook off her hand, as if it were something most
loathsome, and put his hands over his eyes as he turned
11197a37 again.
"So, can you not bear the sight of my poor
face?"
"No. Heaven help me! I hate it."
"Years ago you loved it."
„ "Loved it! "lie cried, with such a laugh. "Loved
*4'l Ah ! what love that was! " and he laughed again
*--11 mirthless, soulless, wretched laugh.
"Yes, I know 3.0 u hate me, you bad man! /know
-!;11 Your wickedness, and that's what the world does
bet; but lam goir.g to expose them. I only followed
,rell here to-night to tell you so. I'm going to do you
ldeadly mischief nt last—wound where you never
.`&10nIn you can be hurt. Ah! I'm gloating over the
vengeance that is in store for me. I shall see you gro-
°ling at my feet., asking for mercy, when you find
tAlt where the knife is to cut. I know what you think
'ilie; I know how you hate me, and sneer at all the
..,14ans I make to be revenged upon you; but now my
41e is come! I have kept my madness off so
tnat lam a different woman now. I can plot an%
13,e/leme, and work with all my old cunning. I can
;4_eceive every one I choose ; I do it, day after day. I
bVe only to tell lies, and they are ready to believe
ien3. You often told me I could deceive the arch-
,elacl himself, perhaps I can. Yes, I hate you with all
Y soul, and everything belonging to you, but your
.obelonging Cleland. I hate your great handsome son as much
.11,8 Ido his father. I'll do you both a mischief, and I
'lave followed ycn only to say so."
. ~_"•Efurt me, as you choose; but if you lift a finger
"gainst him
Woman, I warn you to leave me! Go I or I shall kill

nis frenzy was rising, though he strove hard to
'eeP it down.
Then the wretched creature taunted him. She
eheered and laughed at him, using foul words. It
Sport to see the man's fury bound by his own
"tength and her woman's weakness. She enjoyed it
With all a bad woman's malice.
s'lle could not strike—he dared not kill her!" so
'elle cried, with a mocking laugh on her red lips.
Will you go?"
, "Not yet, George, my love. It is seven long years
'flee I have looked at your handsome face. Ah!
wlno thinks it handsome now, I wonder? Is it Miss
tv ace ?
_ _

Th.e.n he raised his hand for one moment, but it fell
,abg4ln to his side, and she started away, still laughing,
at rather hysterically.
" That good-bye will do, George Ingestre, until I see
11 again. It will not be long, my old, old love.
'lldieu
And she tripped lightly away; when he stood
.Zatching where her white face had last sent its mock-
g smile at him from beneath the lamp.
.„ Then again he turned to his position, his watch
"Pon the river; but this white face was always the
'bile looking up to him oftencst out of the moonlit
water, and his heart hardened as he saw it. When he
Zalked away his hands were clenched, and he mut-
. red between his teeth—
"Now for the deed, black as it may be. No more
~tralms of conscience for me; where's the use? I must
,heafY Fate; I will defy man; I will risk everything to
ye her. may she never know the wrong Ido her!
irLay Ibe the only one to suffer! May I alone have to
'"tar the shame and agony!"

CHAPTER XXV.
THE TWO BROTHERS.
INGESTRE was at the police-court next morning
'lt time to see the two young men brought up to
l'ecets ive punishment for their exploits in the music-
Zall the night before. The case was soon settled;
'lke proprietor was not there to prosecute, and both,
li!eading having taken rather too much wine after
ner, escaped with a fine and a reprimand on their
megentlemanly behaviour.
Mr. Ingestre stepped forward and paid his ward's
ti"ln_e, greatly to Maxall's astonishment, and confusion
De Resimont pulled out a handful of sove-
'lgus and flung them down.
The surplus will do for the poor," he said, and was
it'uout to walk away leisurely, leaning on Maxall's
tre, when Mr. Ingestre stepped forward.
" With me, if you please, Mr. Maxall."
b,And he put his hand on the creole's shoulder. De
'esimont smiled gaily.
The Herr papa, I presume. Adieu—to-night at
hotel."
AndAn he went on before them, and got into the
,ilindsome little brougham that waited at the door of
court for him, with his brother inside. The
.ttf others watched Mr. Ingestre and his ward follow,
then Ferdinand, throwing himself back among
-"e cushions, indulged in a hearty laugh.
th" Only think, Philippe, what an affair to get into
.Xat prison-house. Ma foi it was terrible! And
int little fellow, whose acquaintance I made two or
hul'ee days since, it was laughable to see the frenzy
was in about it--declared it was my fault, that his
Waardian would find it out through the newspapers,
alld there would be the deuce to pay. He did find it
see—the guardian, I mean; poor Maxall will
'a:atah it !
.11
nd who was that white-sldnned lady, with the
e_rY red lips, you were both escorting last night ? "
-Ferdinand opened his eyes.
Why, where were you to see us, Philippe? I did
-4ut observe you anywhere."
Doubtless not," returned the other; "but my eyes
're seldom off you, my friend, for all that. At half-
East eight o'clock you, Maxall, and that lady were at
Irle casino; at half-past nine you entered the music-
-ell With the same individuals. And now answer my
eqUestion."
„. "I really don't know. What an extraordinarybeing
•Yell are, my Philippe! Nevertheless, as long as you
tive me liberty and plenty of money to enjoy it, I'll
t c)t quarrel with your supernatural attributes. But
„Ile lady Maxall merely introduced as a friend of his.
tie called her Helt!me, I think."
'And what did you think of her?"
Very little. Fascinating in manner, clever,witty,
1,1,1" Well read, -I should say. But—not my sort ol
?Man, Philippe.'
nuippe s lip curled.
111eteen years of age, and you nave an ideal of
Wait a few years, Ferdinand, until you have
Wider experience."
ke younger blushed, and tossed back the hair from
forehead.
bib do not consider my experience has been so
The,cl as you would imply."
,T time the elder brother laugLed.
f'h, Ferdinand, my friend, as I said before, wait!
•disanot form your ideal yet, or you will be bitterly
ea,tEPointed when you find its realisation is not on
the,, Take my advice, boy—and women as you find
lette ere was a silence after this. Philippe read some
patch 1,!I he took from the carriage seat, and Ferdinand
"ed his face arrow] while he did so—watched
With n
soerh a puzzled, wondering gaze. Some question
ret,reesd_hovering on his lips, but the words were
Trh4tkeet again and again.
Vdtli " to say, the boy of nineteen was deeply imbued
fort a' Sense of the absolute superiority of the man of
ta Philip e d
hee be, P a always preserved a certain dis-
ssert • -
ween them, which the other never cared to
ti in Spite of his devoted attachment. There was
atfee„ Y, but no familiarity—there was unbounded
11, but no confidence.
boo.'" affairs of this stern, dark-faced man the
tha?abiet hearted boy never inquired into. He knew
ar,o.ree brother was wealthy; he never asked the
tlci hi 0,1 his riches. He saw him well received in all
bt Enest foreign circles; he never inquired what
h "0 had ta stand on an equal footing with the
'4hest there. He believed that he was immersed in

many dangerous political intrigues, but he never
cared to confirm the belief; and he had his suspicion
that their visit to England now had some other purpose
In it than to give him a taste of London dissipation;
still, he did not wish that it should be anything
beyond a suspicion.
On one thing only did the younger brother ever
opeculate about the elder. Hadlie ever loved a woman,
as he had heard of men loving? At times, Ferdinand
thought it must be so—he spoke of the race so dis-
paragingly. "It was the bitterness of a broken heart,"
argued the boy. And then, again, lie thought Philippe
would scorn such a thing as love, and all its belong-
ings. Fancy Philippe—stern, mysterious, powerful-
minded Philippe—the slave of some frail, weak
woman. That was impossible. But looking now at
the beautiful face of the man, it was hard to believe
but that many a woman had loved him. And when
he had got thus far in his meditations, Philippe looked
up; and Ferdinand felt guilty, for he knew that his
thoughts were read by the other. Strange to say, he
often felt this. With Philippe's eyes fixed on his, his
mind flew open, like an unclasped book, for the other
to read.

"Ferdinand, some day you will see the woman I
have loved. I shall not point her out; you will know
her intuitively. Until then, my brother, wonder no
more."

"Certainly, Philippe, it was impertinent of me."
" No, not so, foolish only. In the meantime, read
that letter; it contains some news of your old friends
in Paris."

Who so assiduous and tender, as was Mrs. Faunce
the next morning over Ingrain's black eye and bruised
forehead? There she stood, in her neat morning dress,
talking, and lamenting it together.
Discreetly enough, she asked no questions, but
instantly presumed he had fallen downstirs last night
in the dark. She did so wish he would allow her to
sit up for him, and not let himself in with that dread-
ful latch-key—going straight to his room, and no one
knowing whether he was in the house or not. And
what time did he get home last night, fir she did not
hear him come in?

"Oh, about half-past one. I went to Brook Jones,
to cast up his monthly accounts for him, at eleven;
and it took me longer than I expected. I did mean
to come home directly after this happened, but going
along I changed my mind. I should have lost a
guinea by it; so I tied my handkerchief round my
head, used one eye, and got on better than I thought,
though my head ached fit to split. Who do you think
I saw last night, Mrs. Faunce? George Ingestre !
And shook hands with him before I knew it. He is
a fine-looking man—not a trace of a scoundrel about
him."

"No, sir; Mr. Ingestre never looked what he was.
Then you are friends with him?"
"No such thing, Mrs. Faunce. lam sorry the man
did me the slight service he did, for knowing now
who did it, I'll not even thank him. The only
way I will repay him is to tell him what I am going
to do."

"1 :ara afraid it will be an expensive action, Mr.
Ingram; and if you lose it, must ruin you. Take my
advice, sir, and let Mr. Ingestre alone."
"Too late, now, Mrs. Faunce. My lawyers are in
treaty with a person who seems willing to advance
the money on very fair terms. A month or two will
decide it, and then in November you will have to
swear the truth of all you have told inc."

" I can well do that, sir."
"So be it, then, and Redfern will be mine as sure as
I live."