The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1887-12-24 00:00:00

CHAPTER LV.

A BITTER SORROW.
One woe (10th tread upon another's heels,
So fast they follow.'—SllA XESPEARE.
WHAT is the matter? What has happened Horace
Gayford asked, putting his hand to his aching head as
they lifted his wife from the floor. Is Mrs. Gayford
Ill?'

They could tell him nothing. The waiter had
knocked at the door to see if they would have the
blinds down and the lamps lit, and he had found the
gentleman asleep and muttering as if he were ill, and
the lady on the loor asleep too, as he thought, but so
cold and still when he ventured to touch her that at
first he believed she as dead, and he rung and called
kr assistance. It was only a faint, his mistress said,
but a severe and obstinate otee, and it would be better
if he would let the women put the lady to bed and try
to bring her a little to her sense s.
For poor Phyllis was sobbing violently now, and
incoherently begging them to take her home, to find
her father for her, to hide her, and all sorts of reques's
that would call attention to their proceedings in a
very uncomfortable fashion if she were not stopped;
be must see to it at once, and quiet her. That she had
found out his secret by some means he had no doubt
from a word he heard as they carried her away, and
he collected his scattered wits for an effort, and fol-
lowed them from the room. His head was aching
terribly, and he felt as if everything were reeling
around him, but she must silenced, and they must get
away.
He saw her laid on her bed and sat down beside her,
begging the frightened women to leave her to him.
'Better not, monsieur,' the landlady said; better
let us put her properly to bed and send for a doctor;
she has had a fright of some sort.'
allardly that, I think,' he said; she was alone with
me. There is nothing to frighten her; she will be
quite quiet with me if you will kindly leave us. She
will be ready to come down to dinner.'
In vain the landlady protested that the poor
frightened dishevelled Phyllis was ill, and only fit for
bed and a doctor. Her husband's will:carried the day,
and the women left him alone with his wife. When
they were gone he bolted the door, and stood lookingat
the prostrate figure on the bed. Recognising, him she
gave a terrified start and a little cry.
*What does it mean?' he asked her; what is the
matter with you? They say you have been
frightened.'
His eye was upon her; his will working as it had
worked when she left her father's house to go to him,
as it had worked ever since when he wanted to subdue
her. She faltered for a minute, but no longer.
'Speak,' he said; ma just what happened.'
She told him, as a woman in a dream might have
spoken; everything that had passed; how she had
been sitting by his side, and how he had talked and
shown her all that had seemed so mysterious.
Oh, say it is not true,' she gasped, breaking the
trammels that held her for a moment and becoming
her own natural self; say it is all fancy on my part,
or I shall die.'
'`l%lb you won't,' he said quietly; is that all
'All! Is it not enough to know you for a-'
'-Hush, if you please. The walls in these places
are apt to have ears; you never know who may be
on the other side of the cupboard partition. Youknow
now why I was so anxious to marry your father's
daughter; he will hardly like to give his son-in-law
tip to the hangman. We need never refer to the
subject again, unless yeu give me any trouble, and
what you make for me will fall doubly on you. I
promised you should be downstairs to dinner; get
ready at once, please, and mind you look your best.'
I cannot. Ah, I cannot !' gasped poor Phyllis. 'I
could not eat, it would choke me.'
I think not, when I bid you do it. I have no
fancy for dinner myself; I would rather have rested
this evening in our own rooms and taken something
light, but this absurd exhibition of yourself that you
have chosen to make renders it necessary that we
should show ourselves and together; they will fancy
I have been ill-treating you else.
He never took his eyes from her face while he was
talking to her. Though she shivered a little she did
his bidding, and dressed herself as well as she knew
how. She never had much taste in dress; it had not
been thought good to be stylish in the old days at
Camspie House, but her husband had bought her a
few dresses for present use, and she could make a
fair appearance now. Her dress was handsome and
her lace good, and she had done her hair in a fashion
that she had seen in Brussels. But the face she turned
to-him when she had finished her toilet was so white
and horror stricken that even he recoiled at it. It
was like the face of a dead woman more than a living
creature; but he could not bring back the life into it,
nor take the wild terror out of the weary eyes.
Perhaps she would peas muster; she would get
better when she saw people about her. Any way she
must go down to dinner, and the next day they
would push on to Bingen and change the scene once
more. He had hard work to control his own feelines,
for ho folt -very in, haat ho monogod to do so; and the
pair entered the great dining room together, to the
Intense amazement of the waiter who had found
Phyllis on the floor, and the landlady, whowas watch-
ing from a coign of vantage of her own in the lobby.
What has he done to her ?' she said to herself;' it
Is magic surely; she looks like a corpse. Who are
they, Iwonder ; he has done something. He has the
face of a man always expecting something to happen
to him, and she knows it, poor thing, and is afraid of
him. We shall see. They are going on to morrow.
There is a story in their lives, and I shall hear it some-
day.'
She did hear it at no very distant day, and was con-
siderably astonished thereat. Phyllis sat quiet during
dinner, unable to eat, but having her plate filled and
changed as the waiters thought proper. She would
have gone out of the room again without tasting a
morsel, if her husband had not commanded her, in the
low whisper that had come to be such a thing of
terror to her now, to eat a piece of bread and drink
some wine. The effort took a little of the stony look
out of her face.
But she never looked at her husband, nor plied him
with the little attentions that had so plainly showed
her to be a wife of a few days only till now. And
when they rose from the table it was noticed that she
did not notice him in the least; she seemed to touch
his arm by a subtle instinct, as it were, without ever
looking to see where it was. Once more in her room
there was a break in the stony stillness of her
demeanour, and she flung herself at her husband's
feet.

Let me go !Jame,' she said; I will never betray
you—l will keep your wicked secret till my dying
day. Only free me; let me go; let me hide
myself where no one will know of my folly and my
Infatuation.'
Get up, he said quietly. I did not marry you to
have you indulge in heroics like that. You will go to
bed and sleep as I mean to do, and to-morrow morn-
ing we will start for Bingen fresh, and looking less like
mad people, than you have chosen we should do to-
night. You took me by surprise, or I should not
have permitted such an exhibition as you made of

yourself.
°Are you man or a devil, I wonder?' she said in a
Tow voice, avoiding his eyes, and shrinking from the
hand he would have placed on her shoulder. I can't
believe you can be human.'
'Oh yes, I am—your husband; and want to be a
good one to you if you will let ire You will take no
harm at my hands if you hold your tongue. You are
startled and surprise d now; you will see things very
differently in the morning.'
I can never see them differently,' she sobbed;
relieving tears coming to the aid of her voice, which
she could hardly make heard for the choking in her
throat. 'Nothing can alter what I heard; nothing
can make me believe that you love me; and I did
think it, God help me!'
For answer, he bade her go to bed; he meant her to
sleep well and be ready for their further journey on
the morrow. And she obeyed him, leaving him sitting
by the fire holding converse with himself.
Maybe, England would be best after all,' he said
to himself. 'lt is easy to lose oneself there; and,
after all, what am I afraid of? They may accuse me;
but what actual proof can they bring? The word of
a drunken scamp, who has half a dozen convictions
recorded against himself at various times. Nothing
has been found; the pool has kept its secret well.
Who dares to say I murdered my cousin? Bab! I
ava PIOT'!" My only safety is in keeping dark, and I
can do that at home as well as here. I must sleep—
sleep--or I shall go mad, and blurt out what I had
better keep a secret. She will sleep now, and if she
does not, she will have to be content till I wake. She
is safe in here with me at all events. • _
He locked-the door and took out the key, putting it
where Phyllis could pot t possibly get at it without
awaking him if he were asleep, and looked at his sleep'
lug' wife' with a somewhat doD.temptumui smile on
his handsome face. _ . _
'She will do my bidding still,' he said to himself.
All is not • lost yet—and now ta sleep myself to
recruit my powers—they will fail me else, and I shall
want them all.' . • _ _

He laid himself•dowtrwith the feeling that some of
us have Lit, times, that he should not close ,his eyes;
and hel6y66a himself to forget what was troubling
him most, and allow nature to assert herself. He had
a singular strength of will, this man—a power that
well direced „Tight have made him a power amongst
his fellow men—but the perversion of which had
brought him almost face to face with the gallows.
Even now Nemesis was on his track! Go where
be would, do what he would, he was in the toils; and
to all human appearances there 'would be no escape
for him. That be was the man who had committed
the crime that had puzzled the authorities, and all
but driven an innocent, man into the hangman'a
hands, was well known ' now in the little squar6 at
Whitehall where the destinies of so many sinners are
settled, 1- - •
trnuip in my hand,'he field, as he
iltaabe the quiet breathing of the unlucky Phyllis
rlarlusess. 'And the game is not over yet; I
mar Sawn the tables against my father-in-law even
noy—we shall see:
Ho Kt asleep almost with the words on his lips,
end slept for hours as though he had nothing on his
conscience, waking refreshed and invlgoratedito fae.a
he cowing day.

• Not yet,' he muttered, looking at Phyllis as she
turned and muttered in her sleep. 'I shall want
you by-and-bye, my dear, and want you fresh and
bright to undo all the unpleasant impressions you
have made in this place.'
A cold bath and a fresh toilet made him look quite
a different man, and when he was dressed he called
his wife and bade her get up. She obeyed him,
listlessly enough at first, as if her sleep had not
refreshed her much; but she grew brighter as her
toilette proceeded, and was ready and obedient to his
bidding by the time he had ordered their breakfast.
Phyllis felt as if she were dreaming; the knowledge
of his dreadful secret weighed her down, and yet she
could no more go against any wish of his than she
could have tried to fly. She seemed more his tool
than ever; she would have done anything, no matter
how repellant to her feelings, if he had asked her, and
borne anything that could be laid on her so he was
gentle and kind to her. And he was kind—so wonder-
fully considerate and obliging, and asked her so
pleasantly whether she felt able to go on that she
would have laid down her silly life for him had he
bidden her do it.

Where are we going?' she asked somewhat list-
lessly; what did it signify where she was going, as he
arranged everything.
To Bingen; we shall see Bingen, as I intended, and
then what say you to England, Phyllis?'
Anywhere you like,' she replied. 'I should like to
go home and see mamma.'
That will be part of the programme, doubtless,' he
replied. But lam not going to give my wife up to
her own people again. England will suit me very well
for awhile; and I can get away across the Atlantic,' he
added to himself, 'if I see occasion.'
If the people of the hotel had fancied there was
anything wrong on the previous evening, they were
inclined to think themselves mistaken when Mr. Gay-
fordand his wife made their appearance.
Faultlessly dressed, and looking fresh and
comfortable—happy was hardly the word to apply to
Pnyllis--she never looked quite that; but there was
not the slightest trace of agitation in her manner, and
the waiter who had found her on the floor and
prophesied a storm between the husband and wife,
was universally voted a story teller and scandal-
monger. _ . _

At-Bingen they went to one of the hotels on the
river—not a quarter of a mile from the one where
Cuthbert Ingram and his wife were staying—and it
was in taking Phyllis for a walk in the dusk of the
calm still evening that they saw the face of Helen
Ramsay looking down at them from the terrace in
front of the house. Phyllis saw it, too, and shrank
back in terror.

'lt is a ghost,' she whispered. 'Helen is dead; we
are haunted, Horace !'

'flaunted; yes,' he said, huskily. 'Everywhere—
by a lsgion of the dead. First, he must come; and
now Helen-- But she is not dead ! it is herself
alive; and, my dear,' and the word seemed to
come with a spiteful accent of scorn, poor Phyllis
thought, 'we will leave Germany; it seems to be full
of the past; a past which both of us would like to
forget. Is it not so?'

'--I should like to forget everything,' Phyllis said,
sadly. 'Going away will not free us from the haunt-
ing you complain of; if Helen is dead, and we have
seen her ghost, we shall see it in England just as mueh.
Why are you afraid of her, Horace? Did you kill her,
too?'

Silence he said, hoarsely. You do not know.
Bill her! No. I would not have hurt a hair of her
head if she would only have come as you came. I
have not hurt you, have I, Phyllis—my wife?'
'No; only broken my heart, the poor girl replied,
with a burst of tears. I would rather a thousand
times you had killed me; I should have been at rest
then, and I should have died believing in you, and
thinking you good even to the last.'
He soothed her as he so well knew how, and left
her, while he made inquiries about the lady whom he
had seen only for a minute. She had seemed to him to
disappear. In his excited scare he had not noticed that
she had hidden her face on a gentleman's shoulder,
and no inquiries that he made resulted in anything.
No one knew of any Miss Ramsay—and he knew
nothing of the name of Ingram. If he had ever heard
it in the old Hillford days he had never connected it
with Helen in any way, and the waiters at the hotel
had managed to make such a corruption of the names
of most of the visitors that season that many mistakes
had been made, and the chances were that he would
have been quite as much at fault as in asking for
Helen Ramsay.
I will not let things take hold of me so,' he said to
himself, indignantly, as he turned away from the
hotel, where Helen was actually looking out for him
In the gathering darkness, terrified beyond measure
at the thoulht of meeting him.
He cannot harm you now, daPling,' her husband
said to her, drawing her to him as they sat together
on the sofa in their sitting-room—she trembling all
over, and he trying with all his might to soothe and
quiet her.
No—l know—l am safe with you; but what is he
doing here. What does he want? Why has he crossed
my path again?'
He shall cross it no more, be sure of that, my own
Helen. I don't think he is looking for you now.
Remember you are dead for the present, till we go
back to England. Everyone thinks so, my uncle
says, and of course he will be of the same opinion.
Besides—
'Besides what?'

• I saw the gentleman's face more distinctly than
you did, I fancy, and I came to the conclusion that he
was more frightened than you were. If ever a man's
face expressed mortal terror, his did. I think he
thought he had seen a ghost.'
Helen could not get over it. She kept her room all
the rest of the evening, and could not be persuaded to
go downstairs at all. She could not fancy that Horace
Ciayford could possibly be as much scared as she was.
Going back to his hotel he stumbled against someone
who seemed to have been watching him, and recoiled
with an exclamation of surmise and alarm as he
recognised Mr. Stone, the man whom he had seen him
on his wedding day at Brussels.

_
His brain must be turning, he thought. The Mad-
ness he had striven against must be olertaking him at
last; or why should the rough-looking face of that
übiquitoug personage change all at once in the moon-
light to that of his dead cousin, and show itself bright
and clear before it Vanished away altogether, and ,he
was alone with the rippling water at his feiit and the
whispering wind amongst the tree tops.

CHAPTER LVI.
'Show his eyes and
LETTING IN ME LIGHT.
grieve his heart,
Come like shadows, so depart.'
—Sn A SESPEA nr.
MR. STONE, for it was he, looked after the retreating
figures of Horace Gayford and his wife, and laughed
quietly to himself.
'How scared he is of me,' he muttered; 'but he will
keep, I have learned all I want to know, and he will
go b&ok of his own accord, right into the lion's mouth
The waiters at that hotel at St. Gear must have "lis-
tened up," as some fellow says in a play, to some pur-
pose. They were able to tell me pretty accurately
what his movements were likely to be. I must leave
nim and go after Am I dreaming, I wonder?
Have I really seen her face, or was it some wild fancy?
I am not fanciful: and there she stood, looking down
at me and him as if -- Pshaw ! Stone, my boy,
you are a fool. Make your enquiries and satisfy
yourgelf, and go back about your business. Miss
Ramsay is dead—there was ample proof—drowned
through that man's agency in some fashion. I thins
I can guess how he used it. The poor little fool he has
married had love to help her on her road to destruc-
tion. It was the hatred that Helen Ramsay bore him
that kept her from falling into the trap he laid for
h-r. She paid for her escape with her life. unless
there has been magic at work and she is alive.'
He went into the hotel where he had seen the lady
and worried the waiters as Horace Gayford had done
but with more persistence and coherence. They did
not know any Miss Ramsay, they told him, as they
bad told their former questioner; but there was a lady
who had been brought in from the terrace seeming
rather faint—the river air was too much for her, her
husband had said. She was an invalid, they under-
stood, when she came. They had taken her to her
own room, and it was not likely she would be down
again that evening.
That lady I am asking for is not a married lady',
Mr. Stone said. But the waiter persisted that the lady
who had been faint was a married lady—a bride they
all fancied—and her husband seemed almost to
worship her.

I will wait and see him, if you please,' Mr. Stone
said; and sitting down in the saloon he took a paper
and ordered something to eat and drink, resolved to
solve the mystery of this strange likeness to Helen
Ramsay if he could. People went in and out—some
regarded him curiously, others seemed oblivious of his
presence. He was rather an odd figure, eccentric
looking certainly, and he comported himself with
true British indifference to the curiosity he saw that
he excited.
Presently a gentleman'same towards him and paused
in front of him.
I beg your pardon,' he said, the waiters tell me
r —something in the
thatlu Mr.
osiitoanree
g for a
voice struck lheonionikcilediranuinpdgwcfoiatrthhniabyesrtawt wife.'
saw-
his.
face
distinctly.
rubhi s. Ido
lady.rn
:but—
'You us 111,
did hsse Ramsayloetknc ebsrhel:aiewvidaeB4'mhleawrrrastioe
married
enp
eq;
not know whom I have the honour of addressing.'tak
e
My name is Stone,' be said. I— Here,
a glass of wine,' he added, hastily, as Cuthbert
Ingram, with a wild stare at him, almost dropped
into the nearest chair. You are ill, fatigued, or some-
thing, and this Rudesheimer is in capital condition.'
He seemed a little excited himself, as he poured out
a tall glass of the sparkling wine, and almost forced
his visitor to drink it.
Now, we will :go to a private room,' be said.
'There are too many eyes on us here. We have much
to say to each other.
That we have; I must be in a dream, I think.'
No, you are wide awake. I may see your wife,
Mr. Ingram.'
'Surely, if I may prepare her for your visit. 613 e
has been very ill, and no wonder, as you will ita.9
when you hear all that she has gone through; but I
think, when she thoroughly understands everything,
the sight of you will be the best medicine k could
give her.'
'1 'thiek" it 'will,''Mr..Stotie said;'cothpiaoently '
hhve a great opinion of my own powers as a doctor in
some cases.'

Mr. Stone passed the evening with Mr. and Mrs
Ingram, and proved the truth of his own words. Helen
brightened up wonderfully, and looked like the Helen
Ramsay of old times, as she sat between her husband
and their guest, and talked of Hillford and all that
happened to them there, with every detail of which
Mr. Stone was well acquainted.
We must go home now,' Helen said, 'at once, as
quickly as we can; I shall feel as if every minute
was an hour till I see them all again; and Madge
—dear Madge—Cuthbert, my heart is too full of joy;
it will break, I think.'
No, it won't dear,' he replied. Joy does not
kill. Shall we go to Barney Grubb's wedding? Ido
not know the gentleman; but I have heard enough
about him from you.'
Oh, yes,' Helen said; 'Barney was always a
staunch ally of mine.'
And an humble admirer,' Mr. Stone said, with a
smile. He has let out the fact, I hear, since you have
been supposed dead. Barney shall have a lively wed-
ding, and plenty of old friends to wish him and his
natty little wife joy.'
You know Mary, then?' Helen said.
Know her? I frightened her nearly into a faint-
ing fit not long ago. Hillford in general takes me for
a detective or something of that sort, and women are
generally afraid of anything like that.'
I wish we could start to-night,' Helen said
excitedly. I feel as if every moment was wasted
that we stay here now.'
We will go to-morrow,' Cuthbert said. Mr. Stone
must go to be in time for what he wants to do. That
miserable man is rushing on his fate.'
That he is,' Mr. Stone said. 'I know that the
authorities are waiting for him. There has been
pretty bungling over the affair from first to last.
They might have found out the truth months ago if
they had been on the alert. It was spread before
them like a book.'

'lt is what is most under their eyes that they fail
to see generally,' Cuthbert Ingram said. Helen and
I were otherwhere, or might have found it out.'
have no doubt you would. I wonder no one else
has done so. Barney Grubb didn't look at me twice.
I had hard work to keep out of his way.'
The waiters had orders to see to the luggage for the
first boat that left Bingen in the morning. English
people were eccentric and changeable, they thought;
for the orders had been quite different till this odd-
lookingmuffled up stranger had come to disturb them.
Mr. and Mrs. Ingram bad been going to stay a week,
and go about. And now they were all going, since
this friend had come. A very near relation he must
have been, for he was reported to have taken Mrs.
Ingram in his arms and kissed her when they sepa-
rated for the night, and her husband made no ob.
jection, not even any remark.
Mr. Jarvis received a curious telegram from Mr.
Stone the next morning. No thought of cost had
prompted him when he sent it:
'Stone, Bingen, to Jarvis, Campsie House,
Norwood.

Your corresponcent, whoever no was, was right.
Helen Ramsay is alive! In searching for one of your
lost treasures, I have come across another. She and
her husband leave this with me in an hour en route
for England. Mr. and Mrs. Gayford are ahead of us.
They are making straight for England.'
Helen really alive ! and married! It seemed as if
Mr. Jarvis could not believe his eyes when he read it,
and his wife looked at him across the table, where they
were both sitting, wondering what ailed him. He was
at home that morning, taking counsel with her about
the money that had belonged to his ward, and in the
disposition of which she had had some womanly share.
He had been very loth to relinquish it till the very last
moment. He wanted some clearer proof of her death;
and it did not seem as if he would be ever likely to
get it now. The sea had given up its dead in the person
of the man who had been her companion when she
sailed away in the ill-fated boat to get to La Rochelle,
and he could give no valid reason for waiting any
longer. Mr. Ingram, sen., was on the watch, had he
but known it, ready to prevent any disposal of the
money when a move was made in that direction; but
the next of kin, very distant ones, were beginning to
think time enough had been allowed to slip by, and
to be importunate for their rights, as they called
them.

'ls anything wrong, Iledderwick Mrs. Jarvis
asked. 'ls it about Phyllis, poor child?'
'No ; at least, that is, not much of it. It is no bad
news, thank heaven.'

Thank heaven' indeed!' she replied, simply and
gravely. We have had enough of that of late. Tell
me if you can—if you may, that is.'
Oh, yes; it is news of her—of Helen.'
'Helen!'
Yes.'

_
Where is she? How is she? What has happened
to her? All in a breath Mrs. Jarvis gasped her
questions out in her agitation, and her husband gave
her the telegram to read.
I am so thankful,' she said, her tears falling on it.
,Ab, our poor child. They are coming borne, too, you
see. Ah, Hedderwick, you will not be hard; you will
help to shield him. He is her husband now, you know.
You will not hound on the officers of justice, and have
him arrested.' _ - -

Don't frighten yourself, my dear,' the lawyer
replied. 'I shall not go beyond the arid letter of
the law, believe me.'
Ah, but you know what that letter will be. Think
of the disgrace and the-'
'Have patience, my dear; you have not seen the
edges of the cloud yet. It hag one, though it is hidden.
He wants a lesson, and he shall have one.'
Mr. Jarvis always did say that she never really
understood her husband, and she felt as if she under-
stood him less than ever when he got upon the topic)
of Horace Gayford. He did not seem to dread his
being arrested somehow as she did. Ile must know
what an awful scandal it would be if the police came
and took him. She could not understand it. She
must be patient., and it was a hard task.
Two days after the receipt of Mr. Stone's telegram
Mr. Ingram went to Dover to meet his nephew and
his wife. and accompanied them to Campsie House.
Mr. Jarvis W&R Helen's guardian, and it was due to
him that she should go there at once and explain the
circumstances of her marriage with Cuthbert. Mrs.
Jarvis and her daugher were sitting at the window
when they drove up, and wondered not a little who
the elderly gentleman might be.
Here is Mr. Stone, mamma,' Henrietta said from
her corner. He is altered, and-'
And what, child?'

I don't, know. lam fanciful. I think I seemed
to see someone else; and Ah! here is Helen!'
and Miss Jarvis ran out of the room and down the
steps of the front door before her mother had actually
realised that the visitors had arrived. They never knew
till now how much they had loved Helen; and they
embraced her, one after the other, as if they would
ne,ver have their fill of caresses. Mr. Jarvis came in
in the midst, and the tears ran down his cheeks. He
took his ward in his fatherly arms.

_
'Heaven be praised for this resurrection,' he said,
as he held out his hand to Mr. Ingram, the elder. 'The
cloud is turning up its silver lining at last. 'Don't look
like that, my dear. It is an old friend under a mask,
that is all.'

The last words were addressed to Mrs. Jarvis, who
was staring at Mr. Stone with all her might, with a
look of terror in her face.
'Frank Hatherleigh !' she gasped. 'No! No! It is
a ghost—a spirit!'
A pretty substantial one,' Mr. Jarvis said, as Mr.
Stone grasped her hand, and put his arm about her
to prevent her falling; for she looked as if she would
faint. Frank Hatherleigh alive and in the flesh, my
dear, as you should have known as soon as I did, but
that we were afraid to trust any one in the world.'

'Frank Hatherleigh !' exclaimed old Mr. Ingram, in
amazement. Why, it's a miracle! You will be the
most famous man in England, sir. Upon my soul, I
am very glad to see you!'
Which odd jumble of congratulation, set them all
laughing, and restored their scattered wits. There
was so much to tell and hear, that they all stayed at
Campsie House, an! talked far into the night—Mrs.
Jarvis hardly able to take her eyes off Frank Hather-
leigh all the time, and feeling as if he would suddenly
disappear, and leave the mysterious Mr. Stone in his
place.
But you were dead,' she said, her voice coming
thick and husky with the agitation cf the moment,
and her face looking more womanly and motherly
than Frank had ever seen it. 'Killed—murdered.
Was not Barney Grubb tried for it, and nearly
hanged?'
• Nearly, but not quite. I should have taken care
of that. Mn. Jarvis, I was in no state, even then, to
have nor, nred a d vindicated him; but I had an ally
1.71'n could have managed it for me, but, luckily, there
was no ne
Tell me all about it,' the lady said. But her hus-
band interposed, and insisted on their going to dress
for dinner, and have their talk afterwards.
'We are none of us quiet enough for listening now,'
he said; and I suspect Frank has more to tell you
than could be squeezed into the time there is to spare.
If we all go to our rooms for awhile we shall meet
again, fresh and comfortable, and able to listen and
talk.'

'We have infleed much to hear,' Mrs. Jarvis
said. cannot believe in our happiness yet. Helen,
and Frank, and Mr. Ingram. It seems too good to be
true.'
• It is true, nevertheless,' Cuthbert Ingram said,
with a smile. Ido not feel like a stranger to you,
Mrs. Jarvis. My wife has made us acquainted.'
The ring of honest pleasure in his voice, as he
spoke the word • Wife,' and the love that shone out of
his eyes, were good to see and hear. The lawyer felt
that if his ward had taken her future into her own
bands, it was pretty safe: • He could see that the
young man was a gentleman, and he had heard
nothing but good of him from anyone. •
You and I shall have some business together, Mr.
Ingrain,' he said, 'when all our wonder and excite-
ment are over, and we can talk to one another like
ordinary mortals. I ought to have known when you
were so intent on the tombs in the old churth in the
Temple, the day Helen here came home from school,
that there was more in it than your admiration for
the musty old records of the crusading marauders. She
nearly betrayed herself afterwards. I can remember
It plainly enough now. I was. very blind to try. and
There was
gement the. pry
Helen
said. 'I had never seen anyone I loved-as I did
coerce two younngofocolkesracisoln,lirt;helreranwko two.'
And so did I; Helen said,
hi ieistthtobs ea
tdeeaynsl. obueeghnt
till Cuthbert came in
could days
haed ea. 11;11?
n

3, --..r - ---_-

the way, and then I knew I could not marry Frank.
But I did not free him till I found him out,' she
added, with a bright smile, and a gentle touch of her
hand on Frank's shoulder, as she passed him on her
way to her room.
It was very well that Mr. Jarvis had postponed the
narration of any adventures till after dinner. Mrs.
Jarvis had been excited just enough, and the first
thing she did on reaching her own apartment was to
go into a fit of hysterics, all the more violent from
their rarity. They did her good, and her husband,
very wisely, let them have their way.
'Better now?' he asked, when at length she was
quiet, and only crying, without any noise, as he bathed
her face, and rubbed her hands with a deft gentleness
that she wondered at; for she had never courted his
sympathy or good offices in the little attentions that
some women are so fond of.

'Yes,' she replied. 'I; was very foolish; but it
seemed too much for me, all coming at once. I cannot
believe it, even now.'
You may, my dcar,' the lawyer replied. I ought
to have prepared you better. But you see, Frank's
secret has been no secret to me for so long, that it made
me fancy every one would take it as calmly as myself
when the denouement came about.'

'Then it really is himself, and no wild dream of
mine,' Mrs Jarvis said. shall not believe it till I
see him again.'
*You will believe it when you see him as himself,
and not as someone else,' the lawyer said. He has an
ugly scar that he will carry to his grave, poor fellow.
But otherwise he is not much altered. A little grey.'
Grey?
Yes. He passed through enough to have turned
him white. Bur he is alive. We should thank Goa
for that.'

'I do. I do. And for the knowledge that whatever
else the poor, unhappy child may have prepared for
herself, she will not live to see her husband hanged.
Hedderwick, the thought of that has been killing me.'
'He will not be hanged,' Mr. Jarvis replied. 'But
for all that, I hope nothing will interfere to spoil the
wholesome lesson that the police will give him. They
are busy about him, and very likely will have made
him smart before this.'

(To be continued.)

A VERY MERRY CIIISTMAS
INDEED!

I I I I Lie