The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1885-02-07 00:00:00

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CHAPTER XLIV.
ALONE.

For ever, and for ever, fare thee well,
If we do meet again, why, we shall smile;
If not, why, then this parting was wed made.
CARRIE darted after him into the passage without.
" Alick !" she cried, despairingly.
But already he was at the head of the stairs,
which he began to descend slowly and deliberately,
not even turning his head in answer to the piteous
cry which must have reached him; and Carrie
re-entered her room, locking herself in with the
grief she could no longer control.
She had fought long—so long—against the know-
ledge, but could no longer blind herself to the fact
that she was as nothing to the man who had just
left her. It was a righteous punishment, but sore
to undergo. Unprincipled, inconstant, she had long
known him to be ; but through all she had solaced
herself with the belief that her faithful, all-enduring
love must ultimately iziumph, that it would win
him back to her in time, and the disappointment
was more than she could bear.
Hope of seeing him back she had none. He was
gone from her, and a sure prescience warned her that
this parting was the last.
Her sobs subsided at last, and she sat listlessly
gazing out of the window. The room was nearly
dark now as she looked out, watching with a dreary
gaze the carriages that rolled past beneath her,
bearing daintily-dresied ladies and their squires
arrayed in "customary suits of solemn black" to
theatre or dinner-party; and the poor forsaken
woman felt very lonely in her enforced solitude.
Far rather than be sitting there, robed in delicate
silks and surrounded by all creature comforts,
would she have donned again the simple attire of
her younger days, could they come back once more
and bring with them the love that then was hers—
the love for which she had forsaken all else, to be in
the end cast off as a dog, left forlorn and desolate,
without one in the world whom she could call a
friend, without a home to which she could go in
search of rest and solace.
A tap at the door arolnexi Carrie from her musings,
and on unlocking it a, chambermaid entered with
lights.
!here's a person risking for you, ma'am," she
said, regarding Carrie rather curiously as she made
the announcement.
'lndeed! Who is it ? "
"A policeman, ma'am."
A policeman! What can he want with me P"
wouldn't say, ma'am," answered the woman,
"only that his business is particular."
Carrie thought for a moment. Could this visit
be connected with the affair at Rouen? Had Alick
been traced here?
—'"Are you quite sure there is no mistake P "_she
asked.

"Quite, ma'am."
'Carrie hesitated, but a moment's reflection eon-
Vfnced her that it would be better to see the ;man;
indeed, that there was no choice, and she gave the
required permission.
The officer was shown up accordingly, and Carrie,
after dismissing the chambermaid, who showed
signs of lingering to hear what passed, enquired his
errand.
,' I've been sent from Bow-street, ma'am,"
answered the man, civilly, "to ask whether you
have lost anything lately.
.he started, and for a moment an affirmative
inswer trembled on her lips, but she checked the
impulse. This might be some trap, and it behoved
her to be cautious.

"Why do you ask me?" she said.
"Well, ma'am, because I was ordered to do so."

"There must be some reason."
." Yes. The fact is, ma'am, one of our men took
111) a tramp this evening on suspicion that turned
out wrong, and he'd have been let go again at once,
Only that he was searched when he was first brought
to the station, and some property was found on him
that it didn't seem likely he'd come by quite
honestly. Did you ever see this before ? "
And he took out of his pocket a purse—an elegant
trifle of ivory and mother of pearl—which Carrie
immediately saw to be her own, the one stolen from
her that very day.
"Yes—it is mine," she involuntarily exclaimed.
"All right, ma'am," returned the man, putting
tack the purse with a satisfied look. "if you
Identify it I must trouble you to come with me to
the station and charge the prisoner, who made the
excuse as you'd gave it to him."
"Gave it him I--"

" Oh ! of course we knew that was all gammon,
ma'am. Though he did say as you'd bear him out
if I gave 101 l this note, which the inspector read
before he allowed me to bring it."
And he handed Carrie a slip of paper which
she took, and read upon it, in villainously scrawled
characters, the following words:
" Plce,e mam I've bene tuk up for steelin wot you giv
me in the park to day witch plees cum and Fay as you did
the wont let me go without you do.
" JOSEPII BRADLEY."
When she came to the signature Carrie started to
her feet with a low cry of agitated distress.
," It is all a mistake," she faltered. " I—l did
give it to him."
The man opened his eyes in broad astonishment.
"Why! I thought as you said----" he con-
tinued.
‘. I tell you it is a mistake," she repeated vehe-
mently, "I must go at once. How far is it ? "
"Not ten minutes' -walk, ma'am. Or perhaps
you'd have rather have a cab !"
"Yes, yes. Go down and call one. . I will follow
you immediately."
The policeman left her, and hastily equipping
nerself Carrie went downstairs and joined him in
the hall, and they were soon on their way to Bow-
street.
Could it really be her father? she thought, ofwa,
it only someone who had accidentally discovered her
relationship to the old coiner, and used his name
for the purpese of hushing her evidence?
Carrie had never seen or heard of her fathel•
since the eventful night of his arrest, beyond whal
she had been told by her brother during their meet
ing in France, and she thought with a self-accesing
pang of all that he must have endure,' in h's long
years of imprisontmnt —justly endured, perhap.z .
but was it for her to remember that? Should ihi
man really be whom_he professed
The cab drew up with a 'jerk before the eta ion.
the policeman got down from the her, and, helpinr
Carrie to alight, conducted her along the whit(
washed passage to the charge-room—a large, squarc.
stone-leered apartment, with an open window in
one wall, behind which sat the inspector on duty, to
whom Carrie's guide stepped up and spoke a ice
words in a low under-tone.
"All right," answered tho inspector.
him out here."
Carrie felt an oppression at the chest as she
heard the rattling of huge bolts and the heavy
clang of an iron door at the further end of a passag •
which led out of the room. Everything seemed to
swim round with her, and then she saw a group
approaching, and a bent, 'wretchedly-clad iigure
placed within the barrier, a policeman by his side.
" NS ill you come this way, if you please ?" said a
voice ( lose to her ; and collecting herself she moved
in the direction indicated and stood also before the
window.
Here, at last, she saw the prisoner's features.
One glance was enough to tell her, despite the
alteration effected by years of hardship and priva-
tion, that she looked upon te man who was her
father.
She could not speak at first, and Joe Bradley
never raised his head while the officer read the
charge against him.
" l'risoner, who gives the'name of Joseph Bradley,
and is at large on a ticket-of-leave, charged with
being in unlawful possession of a lady's purse con-
taining coin and an envelope partly torn, but
addressed to Mrs. Woodville, Charing Cross Hotel.
Are you Mrs. Woodville, ma'am ?"
"I am."
"And you indentify the property described as
yours."
"Certainly." '
"There will be no occasion to detain you any
longer, then. You will have to attend at the
court—opposite here—to-morrow morning at half.
past ten. Will you please to: sign the charge
sheet ? '
The prisoner looked up with a half-scared, half-
threat ening glance, of which, however, Carrie took
no heed.
"I told the officer who came for me that this was
all a mistake," she said, quietly. "I have no
charge to make."
"No charge ? " repeated the astonished inspector.
"You say the purse is yours."
"Was mine would have been more correct,"
answered Carrie. "I gave it—with all it contained
—to this man, to-day.'
A low chuckle of relief burst from Joe Bradley,
but no one noticed him. The inspector looked
curious and doubtful, but of course nothing could
be said. Carrie's appearance and the undoubted
fact that she had been found living at the address
given forbade any suspicion of collusion, and after
a few more words the prisoner was ordered to be
released, and he was accordingly set at liberty,
leaving the station with Carrie, and expressing
voluble thanks as they went for the ready manner
in which she had come forward to support his

"

story.
"I'm blessed if that ain't a rum affair altogether,"
said the man who had been Tent for Carrie to his
superior. " She don't look like one of that sort, or
I'd say as it was all a plant."
"Don't you think she did give him the p.
then ? "
" Ah, that's hard to say. All that I know is that
she neverspoke a word about it till she read his
note. But there goes somebody after them as won't
be long in finding out what it all means."
And he looked after a quietly-dressed elderly man,
who had been sitting in a corner of flu room during
the brief examination, with his face hidden behind a

lurse,

newspaper, but who had now risen, and buttoning up
his coat was passing out of the door.
"Yes," returned the inspector, " Pounceby won't
lose sight of them if there's anything to be found
out. He's a sharp 'un, he is."
Meanwhile Carrie and the old convict walked
away together, unconscious of the form that was
dogging their footsteps, Joe Bradley keeping
slightly behind his daughter, for the contrast
between her dainty, lady-like attire and his tattered
demalion appearance ;was too striking not to excite
remark if they had been seen together, and he con-
tented himself with keeping her in sight till they
reached some place where they could converse un-
observed.
'My 'andsome girl ! " he muttered admiringly,
as e limped along behind her. "And a clever girl,
too. Most of 'em would have fainted or gone into
highstrikes, but ehe's real grit, she is, and no mis-
take, is my Carrie. Where can she be goin' to, I'd
like to know.'

Not far as he soon found. Turning to the right,
Carrie went on till she reached Covent Garden
Market, now quite empty and deserted, and halted
un 'er one of the colonnades, where, concealed from
chance passers-by in the shadow formed by a huge
pile of fruit baskets, their hands met, and regardless
of his rags and dirt, her own attire, she put her
arms round the old tramp's neck and suffered him to
take her in a close embrace.
" Father !" she murmured, "is it really you,
then? '
"Yes—yes, Carrie. And you're my little girl, as
used to be! A fine lady, doing well in the world;
while her poor old dad has been—but I'll have my
reven,e for that yet," he went on fiercely. "I ain't
a hlamin' of you, my girl—not you, now; but let
me get hold of him—the cur as got me lagged—and
he shall pay for it all."
Inspector Pounceby, who was comfortably en-
sconced behind the heaped-up baskets which they
stood, and could hear distinctly every word of their
conversation, thought as he heard the last words
and noted their vindictive tone, that he would much
prefer not to be in the place of Mr. Clarence Wood-
ville if ever that astute gentleman and Joe Bradley
should come together.
Carrie shuddered a little as she answered her
father. _

"Don't let us speak of him," she said; "it can
do no good."
"Well, well, we won't, then," answered the old
man. "But I mean what I say, for all that."
And for a time they spoke to each other in tones
so low that Mr. Pounceby, though his ear was
scarcely a yard away from them, could catch but
little of their conversation. He lost nothing of im-
port-mice, however, for it was now a rapid series of
questions and answers as to their past, and what
had happened during their long separation, that
formed the subject of their discourse.
At last Carrie; approached what was of more
intense interest to the concealedhstener. She knew
now, of course, that the papers of which she had
been robbed, the loss of which had served to open
her eyes to the falsity of all Clarence Woolville's
professions, were so far safe. But was it possible
for her to succeed in reg lining them?
"You found a packet of letters, of course, in the
bag that you—you—"
Prigged from my own darter, never thinking
as Bach a swell could be .her !" chuckled the old man.
"Oh yes! I found 'em, of course—that's how I
come to know it was you—and what's more, I means
to stick to 'em."
"Do you?" muttered Mr. Pounceby, from his
hiding-place. "That remains to be seen my
fr:end.''
"I want you to 'give them back to me, father,"
Carrie said coaxingly. "They can be of no use to
you, business letters of mine.'
"Business letters o' yourn ! Bah! Look here,
my girl, I ain't so green as all that comes to,"
returned the old man, with a grim smile. "Them
letters is as much use to me as they are to you,
'specially as I knows—and I don't think you do—
just exackly where to find a young gentleman as'll
stump up 'andsome for 'ern."
"Whom do you mean"
Lit tie Lennie as was—Mr. Leonard Grant„ my
dear, as is," chuckled Joe Bradley. " You see I
knows the vally of 'em as well as you. But I
woo't be greedy. We'll go shares."
Carrie considered. She thought that on the
whole it was a matter that she could bring to a more
satisfactory conclusion than her father, and would
fain have convinced him of the same. But Joe
Bradley was not to be moved by her persuasions,
and told her so flatly.
"I means to manage this business myself, and in
my own way," he said with a dogged determination
that was not to be stirred. "I don't trust you, my
girl, though I bears you no malice; and, as I said,
you shall have your share. But none of it goes into
that scoundrel's pocket, I promise you."
"You need not be afraid of that, father.
Alick —"
"Curse him!" interpolated the old man, savagely.
"Has deceived me once too often. I have done
with him."

"Are you in earnest ?"
" Perfectly."
"Let's look at your face. Yes," he went on
after a moment's scrutiny by the light of the lamp
under which he drew her—by which action Mr.
Pounceby was brought within an ace of discovery
—" I think you do mean it; and if you stick to
your word you'll be my own girl again. But I'm
not agoin' to trust you all at once. Come to me
to-morrow."
" Where ?"
"Bather a queer hole to ask a fine lady like
you, perhaps. But you was glad enough to call it
your home once."
" Ah ! you mean the old place?'
Yes. I've got a corner there still, and nobody
t; turn me out. You'll come ? "

"I will."
"And we'll settle it all shipshape. But mind
not a word to anyone."
And with another embrace they parted for the
time; when Mr. Pounceby, after remaining suffi-
ciently long to be sure they were out of sight,
emerged from his concealment, and made off also
very well satisfied with the result of his night's
work.
He did not attempt to follow either Carrie or her
father. What he had heard was quite sufficient for
his purposes, and his mind was soon made up on a
course of action that, if he succeeded—and suc-
ceed he felt assured it would—must secure him a
handsome reward, and enable him to fulfil a long-
cherished purpose, and :make reality of a dream
in'which the buxom figure of Mrs. Rowley was a
prominent feature.
(To be continued.)