Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1886-10-18
CONTINUED from Taesday, Oct. I'D
ENGAGED IN HASTE.
II MISS II. Z. BRADDoH.
CHAPTER XIV.

+, ~.
A week went by, week of misery for
every one at Darnel Park, and for at least
one person outside the gates; a week which
had brought no new tidings of any kind
Mr.. Penwern had gone back to Scotland
Yard confessed failure, and Dora was
scathing in her contempt for the detective
force. He had eaten and drunk; he had
been handsomely paid for his services; he
had gone upon expensive journeys to
Liverpool and Plymouth and Cork; but he
had failed TO arrest the footsteps of Jaker,
or even 10 discover what white wings had
waited Jaker and his fortunes westward.
Among the crowd of emigrants for that
western paradise, the poacher, a marked
man in the ueighborhood of Darnel, had
been but an Insignificant unit, and he had
left no trace behind him in the memory of
dock laborers or quay-side loiterers"
The note changed by Jaker at the village
shop had been identified by Sir AlIan's
bankers as one Of the notes issued to him.
This fact established Jaker's guilt in the
mind Of the detective. But it did not
satisfy Dora Darnel From the first she
had made up her mind that her sister-in-
law was in somewise implicated in the
guilt of that fatal night. She was not
going lightly to surrender that belief. 1t
was the frution Of her own evil thoughts,
the elimination OF her long -cherished dis
like of her brothers wife. She was not
going to relinquish her own convictions
the outcome Of much intense thought,
merely because the real caminal had
been clever enough to pass some Of his
plumber 10 Jaker, no doubt with the ex-
press intention of putting justice on a
false scent.
A week had gone by since that morning
when Clare Darnel had entered her hus-
bands room, fall OF love and hope, to be
received with such crushing coIdness She
had not seen him since that hour. She had
waited meekly till he should summon her
TO his bedside She was ready TO bear the
punishment of her sin against him, that
one sin Of concealment, ready to acknowl-
edge that she had erred in Withholding her
confidence from the husband and friend to
whom she owed all her allegiance.
During the week that was just ended,
Sir Allan had made marked progress to-
ward recovery A powerful constitution
and habits of exceptional temperance had
made his restoration to health easy, when
once the bullet had been successfully eX-
tracted. He had been gradually regaiuing
strength OF body and mind during that
week OF quiet and seclusi0n. He had seen
his daughter once. his sister three times.
Dora had urged her right to see him, and
he had yielded to her wish, not without re-
luctance. She had sat with him for an
hour on each occasion, and she had talked
softly in low and gentle accents, yet drop
ping such drops of venom rs those lips of
hers were wont to distill when her broth
er : wife was the subject of conversation.
Whatever Sir Allan thought of her insn-
nations he had been inscrutable.
And now the day had come when he felt
himself equal to an interview with his
wife-that Interview which he felt must
needs he final His house must no longer
shelter a traitoress, his daughter must no
longer call an infamous woman mother.
1t was to Grace, his only child, his darling
OF peaceful days gone by, that he turned in
this hour of dark despair. Amidst the
shipwreck of his happiness she was the
straw to which he chung. And now, to-day,
when he had to pronounce judgment upon
his guilty wife he summoned Grace to
stand at his side, to be, in some measure,
judge between him and the woman they
both had loved. Grace would incline to
mercy. Grace would pity the sinner, even
in the midst of ind iyuation at the sin.
1t was the first day upon which Sir AL
Ian had been well enough to sit up for an
hour or two. He looked the pale ghost of
his old self, as he sat by the fire. wrapped
in n long brocaded dressing gown, Dor
dered with sable, as picturesque as the
robe of a Venetian senator in the sixteenth
century. The gown had been planned and
chosen by Lady Darnel and made in Sc
cret, rs "A birthday gift for her husband.
He remembered that fact when his valet
handed him the garment, and would have
avoided putting it on-but his only other
dressing gown had been stained with
blood on the fatal night. He could not re-
ject the obnoxious ROBE without too plainly
indicating his antipathy, and he did not
want to make his wife's disgrace common
talk in the household,
He sent for his wife and daughter and
they came to him. side by side. Grace
flew to the hearth, where he sat in spac-
ious armchair, She flung herself upon
her knees beside him and nestled her
bright head in his lap.
oh father, what delight to he with
you" she murmured.
Clare stood little way off, calm, erect,
but very pale If she stood before him
thus as a criminal. conscious of that last
worse crime of which "A wife can be
guilty. she was indeed the most atdaclouS
among women. But though her face eX-
pressed proud tranquility, and her eyes,
grave, sorrowful, reproachtul even, looked
at him unshrinkingiy, she was content to
stand aiOof, as one who knew there was
an impossible gulf between herself and
him. So Allan Darnel thought in his
agony as he looked at the wife he had
loved
Had loveds Is there ever an end to such
a love a. thiss Did Lucius Junus Brutus
cease to love his sons when as their judge,
he condemned them to death?
Never had Allan Darnel loved yonder
pale, beautiful woman more intensely
than he loved her now. in this supreme
hour of her Remuneration.
Grace have sent for you because |
have that to say to Lady Darnel which |
wish you to hear" he began, gravely.
"There are some fathers who would keep
such a sorrow rs mine forever secret from