Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1889-06-15


asked Mrs. Wallwork. and. What do YOU know
| about it, Ada?" demanded Helen
Nothing. AT least. have been told nothing:
put nave felt ever since l entered this house
That crime had been committed in it. and
latterly have felt sure that child was MUIR
| dered here-taken from my little sitting-room
| upstairs, carried down here and killed and
then buried under those trees in the lawn.
never mentioned 1t to you because il seemed
such a fantastic idea. but I'm sure of it all the
same"
| what nonsense. protested her sister; and,
turning to Mrs. Wallwork. added: We must
get you out of this room that affects you so
| much, and perhaps YOU had better sny nothing
ABOUT THIS ah!-fancy or recollection of yours.
one doesn't like such stories about a house,
ana, you know. If you didn't recognize the
house you may be mistaken in the ROOM
mo mistake at all, ma am but you're right
| ABOUT not speaking Of the matter. I've never
! opened my lips about it this fifteen years. and
don want ever to mention it again. But if
| You have any doubts about what say, take me
up TO the room Of the young lady spoke of, and
IL see If it's the one I'm thinking Of"
Its quite useless!' cried Helen.
| But Ada said:
Yes, let us co." and there was a strained,
! nerce look on her face that made her sistar
think 1t wiser to consent to the suggestion.
she alone knew how self-willed Ada could be,
ana now obstinate in clinging to her fancies.
| Ihey went upstairs. Mrs. Wallwork leaning
| on Ada's arm, and Helen following them. For
once the younger sister seemed the more de-
cided of the two
Yes. this is the ROOM" said the still trem-
phng woman. 1T was the night nursery, and
| L slept here with the baby. One night about
midnight l awoke. and the child wasn't in my
| arms. and-well, I've told you the rest
But want to know everything" demanded
Ada. Who was this man-tnis father who
| murdered his own chiid?"
An: but can't tell you. They called them
| selves Mr.. and Mrs. Everett; but don't think
t.at was their right name. l took them to be
young married couple. They had been in
irkaam for some months before the baby was
bern. | came to them when it was month
Oh, ana was here six months; L suppose they
were IN lrkham for about year. From some
things they said guessed they had been in
INDIA: but they didn't get any foreign letters
at least. | thought not; all that Game to tho
mouse had London pcstmerk. But once 1
found an envelope with an Indian stamp, and
1t was addressed TO NY master; it wasn't in Il g
name knew him BY"
Nv hat name was it!"'
Il don't remember now it's so long ago, and
l paid no heed at tie time. 1t was only af.er-
ward that began to put things together"
Did tney know many people i'll lrkLGn,.
asked Helen
Not a soul. Iremamher my mistress once
saying to Mr.. Everett Tat they were more soli-
tary there than in the mi st of desert. and he
answered that there was no place like big cite
for concealment"
And why-why did he do this dreadful
| thing
All. Miss. it's sad worldr' said the woman
There things the like of you don't unakr-
! stand. And perhaps Mr. Everett didn't Kill
Lis child. didn't see him do 1t; only when /
| woke up and found the baby gone l rushe out
to the landing and saw light down stairs.
| followed that. 1t came from the open drawing
room door, and there was the poor child lying
| dead. cried out, and then my master rushed
window I'd
silenced me-"
"How?"
HE gagged me and carried me up stairs to
the nursery. Then he tied me down to my bed
with the sheets. and left me for a time He
came back at last, and said:
unless you want grave dug for yourself,
too, you had better dress yourself quietly and
| come with me-
Il was afraid of what he might do so
obeyed him. When was ready and went out
OF the room, found my mistress waiting on
the landing, dressed to go out. She was
trembling. and | think she was crying a little,
but very quietly, only could hear her sobbng
occasionally. The three of us went down stairs
tried to walk as heavily as / could. thinking
might rouse the other two servants; but they
slept at the end of long passage in the back
OF the house. and was still gagged and could
not cry. When We got out of doors, Mr..
Everett said to his wife:
"'You know your way. do you not and have
money enough for the present? Go straight
away, and I'll follow you as soon as l have set
| tied this creature.
My mistress went on by herself and
thought my end had come; but he only kept
me walking through the town till morning
oh. but was tired-and then took me to the
| railway station and put me in the train for
Berstowe, the place 1 came from. He put some
money into my hand and said l would get more
II L held my tongue, and that was the last
ever saw of him, and I've never breathed a
| word Hoy
Bus why did he do it? Why did he do it?''
cried Ada.
That's what can't tell you for certain"
said Mrs. Wallwork. Il have my notions
Well, Ill tell you, and you can make what you
like out of it. One morning, not long before
had taken the baby to her room She had lust
had cup of tea and a letter brought to her
and she was reading it when went in. Before
got near her she jumped up with cry and
ran into her husbands dressing-room and
heard her say:
"'Oh, George, this is terrible Alfred's
coming home. He is so old, SO old; why can't
he die and leave me free?
"Mr. Everett pulled to the door with bang,
and heard nothing more; but I've wondered
since well, may be wrong. There's no
use talking about it,
And did you do nothing to bring this man
to justice?" asked Mrs. Baggallay.
"N-no. You know what it is when poor
folks try to set the law agin rich ones; and, be-
oiUco' uluu hlOW any tuIlS ABOUT where MI.
and Mrs. Everett had gone to. l came up to
lrkham after day or two and went to the
house; but it was empty, except that bailiffs
were taking away the furniture. 1 didn't want
| to get into trouble, SO l said nothing
"Oh, its horrible that such crime should
| go unpunishedt" exclaimed Ada rising from
| her seat and walking toward the window She
| felt maddened with the story that she had Just
heard. She longed to avenge that murdered
child, whose spirit, it now seemed to her ex-
cited imagination, had been trying to win her
ear ever since she came to the house. She
longed to search for this unnatural father and
bring him to justice, but how should she be-
| gin! She had been standing with her hand
resting on the writing table, and sudden, i'm
patient movement she made in rejecting on her
powerlessness, caused the calendar that lay on
| 1t to fall. STOPPING mechanically to pick it up
her eve fell on the motto given for that twen-
| ty-second OF December: 1.-The gods are just
and OF our pleasant vices make instruments to
scourge us"
''Is that enough" she asked herself. 'Does
| the vengeance of God really pursue and
punish every wrong-doer? Can we leave it to
Him?"
She did not answer her own questions. but
she no longer felt bound to help on the punish
ment of the crime.
CHAPTER III.
Captain Walton found, when he arrived at
Irkham, that Gore House was not easy to dis
cover. The address, as he had received il from
Ada, must have been incomplete thouph tho