The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1887-08-13 00:00:00

ATURDAY, AUGUST 13, 1887

NOBLER TLIA_N REVENGE.

BY THE
Atahor of The Heiress of Atherstone Granger

CHAPTER XVII. •
•
LITTLE ELOPE.
'The miserable have no other medicine,.
. But only Lope,'
THERE was sorrow and dismay in the pretty little
house Where Helen Ramsay strove in vain to believe
the best, and to
,delude? herself into something like
hope that Frank was alive and well somewhere, and
would come back and make them laugh at their
feats. She was full of dread in spite of herself when
the had been out with Mrs. Churchill and learned
the very worst.
They had been received with much respect at the
police office; Mrs. Churchill begged them to tell all
tilt-re was to be told. Mies Ramsay would far rather
ar everything now than be kept in suspense, and
the men with much reverence for the young lady's
grief told the whole story, how Bagged Jack had
tried to spend a shifting of Mr. Flatherleigh's that he
was known to set great store by, and had been in
possession of his knife beside. Helen's heart sank
very low as she heard the tale. She knew quite well
that Frank would never have parted with that
shilling—he used laughingly to call it his luck, and he
was always going to have a hole bored in it that it
might hang on his watch chain; but Frank was
always going to have things done and putting them
off. If he had attended to this one, there might have
been no clue to what became of him.
One thing surprised the officers in their
conversation with the two ladies. Miss Ramsay, who
was by far the most collected of the two, utterly and
distinctly refused to believe one word against Barney
Grubb. Whoever was guilty, supposing anything had
happened to Mr. Hatherleigh, he had nothing to do
with it.
He was away,' she said; ! he was not near Hillford
the night before last.'
'That's what he wants people to think,' the officer
in charge said. 'He was not away at all. It was a
blind.'
'A' blind!' Helen said incredulously. What do you
mean? I met him walking out of Milford, and he told
me he was going to see his mother; she lived a long
way off.'
Yes, miss; but we have certain intelligence that he
did not go; he have must doubted like and come back
again. He was back the same night.'
Wherever he was, he never harmed Mr. Hather-
leigh,' Helen said stoutly. Shall we go home now,
Mrs. Churchill; we can do no more here.'
She spoke suddenly and sharply, her nerves were
giving way all at once. and she longed to be alone and
have a good cry, it would relieve the miserable aching
at her heart and take away the heavy weight that
. seemed to press her down. She was shocked and
distressed beyond the power of expression, and the
fact of her being so stunned by the terrible intelli-
gence that had come to them made her seem cold and
reserved, and as if *she did not care.
' Yes; dear child, come home,' Mrs. Churchill said,
suddenly waking to the knowledge that Helen's lips
were white, and that she was trembling all over. You
should not have come.'
Yes, it was best; I shall not fancy so much now,'
Helen said quickly, and spoke no more till they were
safe in the house, when she broke away from Mrs.
Church 11 and ran up to her own room. She could
not trust herself any more till she had had her fight
with her own agitation. It would have its way now,
and she sobbed as if her heart were breaking in the
solitude of her own room. She had given Frank up
as a lover: They had come to their senses before it
Wal too late, and acknowledged to themselves that
they did not want to marry each other; but she had
loved him with a brotherly affection all her iife, and
it was as a dear brother she mourned him. She longed
to go to Madge—to the girl Frank loved, and comfort
her—poor Madge, who lay in her room supposed- to
be unnerved by the dreadful news suddenly told, but
whose secret was weighing her down, and crushing her
young life with a sorrow that was as t rrible as it was
new and unexpected.
Norah came out of her sister's room as Helen at last
went downstairs, and put her arms round her
lovingly.
'My dear, what can we say to you; what can we
do to comfort you?' she said, softly.
Help me to disbelieve it, dear,' Helen replied, with
trembling lips. 'I cannot realise it yet. I will not

believe it.'
• Oh, I hope it is not true,' and Norah'S rare tears
fell now, and she hid her face for a moment. We all
liked him so much. Can you bear to speak to Madge,
Helen dear? It seems cruel to ask you, but she seems
almost as if she were going mad, and says surit
strang-3 things. The shock has quite upset her.
You know how Mary blurted it all out to her and
mamma.'
Yes, it was enough to make her faint, poor child,'
Helen said. 'I will go to her, Norah, dear; leave her
to me a minute or two.'
'lt is unreasonable to want you now,' Norah said;
but Madge never is reasonable. I should be very
angry with her if she were not so ill.'
She visaed Helen and went down stairs, and Miss
Ramsay entered the darkened room where poor
Madge lay, the lamp hidden from her aching eyes by a
curtain, and no one to speak the sort of comfort she
wanted; her pretty face was all blurred with tears
and her wavy hair tossed and tangled with her rest-
less turning from side to side. Only two days ago she
had been so happy; life had seemed all sunshine for
just a little while, and now a great dark cloud had
come and blotte.l out all her heaven.
Madge, dear,' and Helen went up to the bed and
put her arms round her, and drew her weary head on
to her shoulder, and Madge burst into fresh tears, and
clungte her friend as if there were hope and comfort
in her very appearance.
• Oh, Helen!' gasped Madge, is it true, is it true?'
1 am afraid it is. Madge.'
'Whit shall I de ? what shall I do?'
'Be brave, dear, and hope. I have not given up
hope yet. There is terrible reason to fear; but every-
thing we have heard may be a mistake. I shall hope
it is till the reports are confirmed.'
Tell ine all about it, Helen, everything that there is
to be told. I seem to understand nothing but that
'horrible Word murder.' Mary came in and said it,
and her face was all white, and hr eyes wild and
large, and it has burnt itself into my brain and seems
to be all round me. Don't leave me, Helen; talk to
me, or I shall go mad
'Try and be quiet, dear,' Helen said gently, the
tears stunning in her sweet eyes. Her own heart was
wrung with afixiety and grief, but she could put
.ssicleelier own sorrow to comfort this poor frantic
child, who wore her heart upon her sleeve ana shrieked
(Jut in her despair like a wounded bird.
*I do try,' Madge said; but they will not tell me
anything. They do not know, how should they? And
mamma comes and bids me be quiet, and says excite-
ment is bad for me; and Norah smooths the pillows,
and tells me to go to sleep, as if I were a baby, and
al the while my heart is breaking.'
Not quit, dear Madge, I hope,' Helen said holding
the hot band of the excited girl and forcing her into
quietness by her own calmness. Madge little knew
what a whirl of emotions was going on under that
still exterior. I don't know that there is anything to
tell more than the oae terrible fact that some evidence
has been found—a sort of clue to Frank's disappear-
ance. We hope it will lead to his discovery.'
She stroked poor tvladge's dishevelled hair as she
spoke,and soothed her so that she was able to listen
calmly while she told her all there was to tell—every
little circumstance that had transpired, and how they
had telegraphed for Mr. Jarvis, who would be able
to tell them what to do. In her own heart she
firmly believed the worst, and that Frank was dead;
but she managed to put such a complexion on the
tale that Mary bad brought, and all they had them-
selves heard at the police office, that Madge began to
feel quieted and hopeful, and her excitement wore
out, and Helen saw that she was falling asleep.
Helen sighed as she thought hos, little sleep there
weuld be for the rest of the household, who were full
of dread and weary anffiety, and Madge heard the

sigh and opened her eyes.
You have not been deceiving me?' she asked.
No, dear. I have told you everything. You shall
hear every word that comes to us—l promise you,
:adge. The others do not know what reason you
have for being so eager for news. But I will bring
it to you, never fear:
• Whatever it iF, Helen r
batever it is, Madge—you may trust me. Try'
arn' lo to sleep now. Think what it would be to them
all if you were ill again. You were so much better.'
I was so happy, that was all. Helen, if this awful.
thing is true, I shall die.'
There is an "if," Madge—try and think of that.
Look it in the face, and be brave ; don't let Frank see you
with a pale face and red eyes when be comes back andt
Us •
us where he has been. You were half asleep .just
now, dear.'
'Yes, and it all seemed to Lome back to me suc.—
sinelv, and I felt as if;Mr. Gayferd was talking to me and
• • making me think— Helen, did he—Mr. Gayford,
mean—ever make you do anything?'
' Don't talk of him, dear,' Helen said, startled at
sudden reference to the clergyman, and the
• Curious import of her words. It had not all- been
, mere fancy, then, on her part, that there was a hidden
power in Horace Gayford's mind, and others had felt
it besides herself. Madge spoke dreamily, as if her
- mind was rambling a little. Don't talk about any-
- body now,' she said, softly, and again stroked the fair
hair that lay tumbled on the pillow. She saw that
the touch was soothing, and continued to stroke it,
and again Madge closed her eyes, and presently Helen
saw that she had fallen into a troubled "sleep. She
did not st,r ; she was afraid of rousing her, and it was
only when Mrs. Churchill came softly in and touched
her on the shoulder that she looked up.
Mr. Jarvis has come, my dear,' that lady tied.
Wi,l you come and speak to him?'
He has lost no time,' Helen said. 'lt was very
kind of him. Madge is asleep, see.'
It is very good of you, dear child, to come to her.
She was s idly hysterical and frightened. Very few
girls would have put aside their own grief to comfort
h r;poor
'She needed it,' Helen replied, stooping as she
. - spoke and kissing Madge's sleeping face, and then she
followed Mrs. Churchill to the breakfast-room, where
Mr. Jarvis was waiting for her. He folded her in his
arms and kissed her as if he were the father she had
lost, as indeed she had almost onmee to consider him
in the last year or two of their intercourse',