The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1885-09-26 00:00:00

[ALL RICIIECTS RINERVED.I
CATHERINE'S MISTAKE,

OR,
A SECRET FOR YEARS

CHAP fER XVII.

CREUSA.
tra next day was that of Ma'amselle Bernstein's
Xttisic lesson.
wmgram was not in the best of tempers when he
f eet ; but he was aggrieved beyond measure when he
,elnicl half an hour taken up by an introduction at
,41et to the German mesmeriser, Creusa. He was
and madame insisted on her protégé being in-
'educed to the Englishman.
; Re was a slight, remarkably well-made man, dressed
a handsome Hungarian pelisse, richly braided.
'4deny, because he had a long white beard and
enstache ; but the oyes above, even through the
taBSeS he wore, showed no signs of ago; they were
'tlr, bright, and penetrating. He wore, too, a skull-
of black velvet, drawn down over his ample fore-
ead. He was a singular-looking man, and not pre-
Possessin g.
Ingram, in his own mind, called him a mounte-
+Tel; an impostor, a quack, and every other name in
"ge catalogue he could remember just then; for his
obstinate common sense refused to do any other than
!eject this man's profession as a vile imposture. The
It?ea of curing disease by the means of animal mag,ne-
kern was utterly absurd; but, perhaps, had the doctor
'tinted that he could so settle a Chancery suit Ingram
blight have listeded to him, at least.
Moreover, he fancied ma'amselle paid the old fellow
fa great deal more attention than was at all called
t9t ; wasted a good half hour of the precious music
tree chattering to him, and then, when stie did come
'4O the library, was distant and dull, made mistakes,
/11:1:1 never once smiled at them; for she generally
b,ughed merrily at any blunder she was guilty of.
:len laugh was so silvery, that he found it impossible
‘o be annoyed; therefore he liked the mistakes now
and then.
Then this Creusa had watched him so, and asked
Beveral impertinent questions about his family affairs
"—Where he was born—who was his father, Sze.—
Which Ingram answered without much regard to
truth. "Hang the man !" he said. "What and who
he, that he should trouble his head with my affairs?
4 don't quite like the look of that man's eyes—they
4,lllean mischief. It is my opinion he has cast them on
'fle baroness's money-bags, for they seem plentiful
enough, and she is a devout admirer of his. The man
18 a humbug !"

CHAPTER XVIII.
TUE DIARY RESUMED.
4a,Th 28t1s.—I had no time in my last to relate what
n
()e, curred yesterday evening; but yon shall learn
ere.

.1)0 you remember my alluding to the exquisite
ildn es s of the evening, that I was then writing at
art
Open window, and could hear Mr. Ingestre's foot-
Ps sauntering leisurely up and down the terrace-
I'Mik below?
.11e came in after a time; I knew it by the cessation
°I all sound, and the return of the sweet spring
.BCevuts, which, while he walked below, were disagree-
1Y
tainted with the smell of his cigar.
t,rfe went in, and not a sound broke the silence of
,Te moonlight night for more than an hour, exceptino.
Lue tinkle of a sheep-bell in a distant part of the
Dark.

...And then, at the end of that time, I was startled by
"ulriething I had never heard before—the steady
iltii/la-sh of oars on the lake. I fancied at first I was
eeeived; but on listening intently, I felt that the
tegrtilar and deep splash of water could be produced
Y 40 other means.
t I immediately sought Mr. Ingestre ; he was walking
Lestlessly up and down the small drawing-room, and
in. no mood to be spoken to. Bat I did speak,
'IQ told him what I had heard.
Ile laughed at me, as I imagined he would.
'lt was the swan scrambling up to her nest in the
'lstid—impossible it could be anything else."
"Why impossible, sir? I heard Ross speak of
'cachers, who took the trout in great quantities."
"flut they don't fish for them in a punt, Miss
ace," he laughed. "Their method is a rather more
tile
. tit one. No; it is impossible, if you reflect an
:astant, that any boat but the one that is chained up
the boat-house could get on the lake; for there is
;41e Mill at the bottom and the bridge over Keighly-
4at the other end. You have noticed the bridge,
eoclare say, and remarked, perhaps, how if a boat
;Ilid get under it at all, the sitters must certainly
Tve ever rowing, drift through with the current, and
vs? at in the bottom. As for the mill end, it would
f 7. simply impossible to pass that, and get on the lake
'esa Westwood side."
do not feel convinced. The moon is bright.
go down as far as the boat-house, and see if the
at is there:,
...I cannot, or rather could not, account for the un-
t7siness I felt. It seemed the climax of all the fears
aci Wretchedness I had experienced since the after-
(Loon.

t' absurd, Mr. Ingestre said, to do anything of
the kind,
but if I wished it so much, he would send
servant. My reply was, that none of his servants
'were to be trusted, either in word or deed. Then he
V:,,_°41121 go himself, if I really was so anxious as I
"'ttned.

would not allow that, of course, and left the room
Zithout telling him of my unshaken resolve to go
'4E:self. I put a cloak over my head and shoulders,
.„(1 took the path leading down to the lake.
ofuefore I reached the boat-house, or even the grove
mschestnut-trees standing before it, I was sensible
Cot some one followed me. I heard the rustle of
th tsteps among the grass, and once a shadow crossed
ate Path. It would be untrue to say I felt no alarm
discovering this—l did; but knew as much danger
pea'sr to be incurred by turning back, and passing the
San who followed me, as in carrying out my design
Oil going on.
4,17 Y heart beat thickly when I left the moonlight
t cl entered the shadows of the grove which sur-
inid
it s the boat-house. In all the brightness of day
a dark and forlorn-looking spot. The water that
livtt'ashes round the moss-grown sides of the rustio
i
e house is deep, and green; the chestnut-boughs
allg own so low that they mingle their leaves with
" of the water-lilies, which stagnate rather than
—ow
tips on the surface of the water; the boat is chained
het' under the shelter of the little roof, and rocks
to4,vilY to and fro when the current is strong enough
o t"hPple the usually moveless tide. I lifted the latch
to,c, e door, but it would not open, the wood appeared
; and as I was attempting more forcibly to
e a hand removed mine from the rusty latch,
Mr. Ingestre's voice said—
It is beyond your strength—allow me." And he
pehed it open instantly.
it ,s annoyed excessively when I discovered who
bqt that had thus dogged my steps from the house,
ile had no opportunity to express the feeling before
e%claimed—
‘A‘ BY Jove ! the boat is gone!'
kes;ll,d so it proved. The chain was there, and the
in the padlock; the boat and oars were gone.
Irig‘'estitunph ! it's rather queer, I confess," said Mr.
it's 're, examining the place all round. "I suppose
aerne freak of Maxall's to get on the lake at this
taite of night. None of the servants would dare to
Nvhe the key of the padlock from the nail in the study,
koeete, it hung. Maxall, I suppose, is inclined for a
..11.tight saunter on the island."
_itr• Maxall cannot row," I said.
rtiou:rtle enough! He has not the strength of a
Nvin „e. Besides, he is afraid his pretty little hands
hiba:uffer. But he could easily get someone to pull
Where's Cle ?"
10001 bed and asleep. Hush! there are voices. And,
twez shadow is passing along the open space be-
Itlg'tl those two Scotch firs—just in front. Mr.
)Tstre, be careful!"
raw?, 'was rushing off directly he caught sight of that
V4ahnn,g shade; but my remonstrance had the effect I
0144'4, and he drew back with me into the dark
tree7w east by the boat-house and the surrounding
solill'a• The voices ceased, and then the swift-measured
Nvlia, of oars came round to the point of land on
We stood.
nokt 'noon was very bright, and I distinctly saw the
'as soon as it turned a sharp bend in the lake—
the the boat, and recognised one of the sitters, Maxall;
~other was a female. One man pulled.
a 41r I
-Ppr • ngestre remained perfectly still as the boat
ha °ached. I heard him grind his teeth, and strangle
to Nvath in his throat- but, beyond that, he appeared
aeairatch the proceedings very tranquilly, and feel no
4Pok:,t° interrupt them. Maxall leant forward, and
kter,,lr the rower in a low voice. The boat instantly
,totaX its course from the middle of the lake, swerved
4°lls-e‘l' and came in a straight line towards the boot-
h,.
Wate."°t there, you fool! There's but two feet of
th.la tuns in it. At the aide—under those trees!"
piluetifitacLall, in an angry whisper to the man who
t _
uom.
t
etilr„.„ „You see to land safely, In that dark place
17°11 a female voice.
„ight Z3' I know every step along here. The water is
ttert deep under those chestnuts, and the boat
0 ft ilialose to the bank."
411 Whi,„' and came up within a few yards of the spot
f-4 I%'. Ingestre and myself were completely
Or 'he e— fectuall
k,sh Y concealed. Maxall leaped nimbly on
'4l, ale ill' julcl turning round to shake hands with the
You
,fide the boat, said, in French—
~."re all right now. All you have to do is to
Z',l',',`;'St float back with the current when you get
trinlath t'.7 Bridge, and I'll be here in the morning
to laagednlingo to look after it. I think we have
docieverly. It was a capital thought of yours
vilae„wnr to
L Keighly, for no doubt he'll ask every
th'itage. `,ie they have seen anybody like you in the
Qot Fall it jolly to outwit the old fellow like
41, wo_it all safe, eh ?"
bra teoo4:us:n he addressed turned her face up to his;
Wi„liehes .Piercing in one long gleam the overhanging
' lighted uP ' tl t face white and wild, with a
. t stnile
it ook en her blood-red lips. She said nothing,
kaAl • a roll Y tiv,
aoirf paper from her bosom, and flourished
reia',,eiat fop .
Dap 'tvii„,2"ved seems now to me like attempting to
the-" so;sed in a dream. It came so suddenly,
I°Utlirie 71,.it1y, that my mind appears to have lost
ittlow u`-.l'.f.w.hat really took place.
11l another second Maxall lay at my

feet like a dead man—that Mr. Ingestre, the- woman,
and the man who rowed seemed all wrestling together,
in a silence that was most horrible of all. The water
splashed, and the boat rocked violently. The two
had nearly dragged Mr. Ingestre into the lake between
them.
"The oar! the oar! One blow—one blow, and he
is dead!" she screeched.
At this time of deadly peril to him, when I saw
death in the descent of that uplifted oar, my presence
of mind returned, and I caught the weight of the blow
on my outstretched arm. I think the man's frenzy
must have weakened its force, for the limb is only
fractured, not broken in two, as I expected it would
be. It is my left arm, and the pain is agonising as
I write: it must plead my excuse for many halo-
herencies.
Before he could lift it again, the boat was shot far
out into the lake. Its two occupants were pitched
forwards, and fell together to the bottom, while Mr.
Ingestre, with a shout of mad triumph, waved some-
thing round his head. It was the roll of paper, tied
with a ribbon, the woman had held two minutes
before.
"Safe! safe! safe!" he shouted, whilst the answer
from the beat was a volley of very dreadful curses—
most horrible from a woman's lips. She hissed, splut-
tered, and bubbled them out with a velocity most
appalling; and when the man joined her in the foul
strain, I stopped my ears, and heard no more until
Mr. Ingestre spoke.
"Have I killed that wretched boy? Look, and tell
me. Cursed young reprobate !"
He was stunned by the violence of the blow which
felled him; his nose and mouth were bleeding, and he
looked half dead. Mr. Ingestre pitied and abused
him in the same breath, caught some water out of the
lake in his hat, dashed it over the young man's face,
and muttered a fervent wish that he could drown him
with it ; and all this time the boat was fast getting
out of sight, and the woman's voice becoming less and
less audible.
Maxalrs consciousness returned after repeated
drenchings with the cold lake water. He shivered,
sneexed, groaned, and scramb'ed to his feet quickly
enough when he saw who leant over him.
"Mr. Ingestre, you want to murder me V he said,
shivering in every limb. "You have tried to do so—
you have nearly killed me; and I—l only did what
she asked me."
"Murder you! Maxall, don't put me in tempta-
tion's way. Get up. you weak, infatuated little fool!
and don't snivel there at my feet. I won't harm you.
I'll try and not blame you for what you would have
helped that creature of mine to. If she had got it,
then I cannot say what vengeance I would have had.
I can see it all—the old arts, the old cry. I don't
blame you. Get away, boy; and go home. Are you
in pain ?"
"I should rather think I am. All my teeth are
knocked down my throat., I believe. What a brute of
a fist you have, Mr. Ingestre."
"Glad of it, for your sake. Get into the house—
be off !"
"You have got what I gave her, I suppose?"

"Yes, I have. Go."
Maxall tried to give vent to a scornful laugh, but it
was choked by tlie blood which filled his mouth. He
staggered away, spitting, spluttering, and abusing his
guardian in very low terms.
Beyond a deathly pallor on his countenance, and a
slight shivering of the hands, Mr. Ingestre appeared as
calm and self-contained as usual, when he turned
round to me and said, rather abruptly—
" Your arm must be broken, surely."
I did not know it; it hung at my side, devoid Of all
sensation—numbea, nerveless, seemingly dead. I
would not allow him to examine it, nor to believe
that I had received any injury whatever. I dreaded
his sympathy, care, and remorse. I spoke, instead,:of
my wonder that he should allow that woman and man
to depart so easily.
"Do you know who she is? have you ever seen her
be fore ?"
"I have met ber in the village once, ai 11. in the park
once. I was told that her name was Faunce."
"Yes, her name is Faunce—her name is Keziah
Faunce—that is, Mrs. Faunce. You wonder, don't
you—you think it strange—a mystery probably?
None in the world. That woman thinks I have done
her an injustice by withholding a law paper she fancies
ought to be in her possession. Maxall is hand and
glove with her, and helps her to rob me. I can't help it;
I can't punish him, he's my own—l mean— Ah,
ah ! what a battle has been fought and won to-night!
How gloriously the moon shines out among those
trees, and just silvers the ripples on the lake! (The
boat is at Keighly now, I'll warrant.) One moment
more. Let me lean against this old tree, and stop the
beating of my heart, if I can; 'tis horrible."
An objection rose to my lips instantly; but one
glance at his face, and it died away unspoken. Ah, I
cannot tell you how its look pierced my heart ! Such
sorrow—such anguish and suffering, compassed by an
expression of almost death. In his pride of health
and manhood I can resist him; the sunshine of his
prosperity steels me into adamant; but when he
suffers—when I know that some dreadful pain wrings
his physical being, or some intense agony untold his
mental, then I remember what right was once mine,
and send a wretched cry up to God that it may, if
only for cne precious moment, be mine again. Wild
and dangerous intoxication, to stand there and look at
his poor face ! madness greater to dream of what can
never, never come to pass—that I may comfort it!
Would that I had doubted my own strength in the
beginning, and never stood beneath his roof—never
lived to hear his familiar voice in my ear from day to
day, nor allowed my eyes to watch his movements!
It is done now, and repentance overtakes me.
He looked at me, and said, so mournfully—
"l have a great trouble to bear: pity me!"
Yes, and in pitying, I forget to hate, to scorn, and
know him as he is.
- -

(lo be continued)