Northern Weekly Gazette. — 1904-03-26 (Stockton-on-Tees, Cleveland, England)

OUGIIT TO BAY.  "George!—George Ferrisl—let me go, I say! Liar, trickster, cotivict, why do y-ou haunt me now Gertrude East flung out her arm.s wildly, the words breaking from her in a hoarse and shudtle , pleSper. To her surprise she herself clasped in a soft and 6 i g embrace, and her dazed eyes, opening once more to the light of day, beheld her daughter's face. Nora had changed her riding costume for a miblin gown, against whose white draperies her cheeks, as she bent over her mother's prostrate farm, showed scarcely less white.  "Mamma," she begged, "mamma, what is the matter—oh, what is the matter? Why did you ring so? Did something frighten yen?" Mrs East raised herself weakly. She was reclining on the couch near the French window; her garments had been loosened about her throat, and her lips and forehead were wetted with brandy. Anxiously her glance soanned the apartment. The autumn sun still shone in at the wide panes. Save for herself and Nora the room was empty.  "I —I rang?" she asked incredulously. Nora put her mother gently back among the silken cushions. "Indeed you did," was the answer, "so long and so furiously that all the servants came running. I was just coining downstairs, and got here to find you lying on the Boor by the window and the maids girin& you  brandy. But you seined when you began to revive t everybody away. I thought  be tem a-larm(;d to see only me."  Gertrude East passed a hand over her forehead. "I —I don't remember ringing," she said wearily; "but I—l suppose I managed to before going off altogether." "yes, yes," replied Nora, soothingly; "and now you must be quite quiet and not worry another bit about it, or even move for half an hour. I will sit and stroke your poor temples —it's all my fault for frightening you this morning. But, first, I must. draw the blinds." And she crossed towards the window.   Her mother started. "Never mind" darling," she exclaimed; "I —I would rather have the sunshine. But you can bring me some Cologne, if you wat. These is a large flask on my tofiete table, and I have a racking headache." With an ejaculation of pity, Nora recrossed the room, lingered a moment by her mother's side to kiss her burning brow and murmur a sentence of girlish tenderness, and then slipped out upon the indicated errand. Hardly had the door closed behind her than Gertrude East sprang up, staggering sickeningly as she did so, and made a swift inspection of the apartment. There, by the cabinet, in the corner near the window, she had staod, with the pistol to her head, and from the curtain beside it had emerged the mutilated band which had checked her desperate purpose. She -stole up and peered from the window, this way and that. No one was without. She moved the curtain—shrinkingly; it concealed nothing. Suddenly she noticed, upon .the cabinet itself, a cheap, soiled envelope. It was directed to her, in a fine, yet scrawling character, and marked "Private." The sight of the handwriting sent a shudder through her; she snatched at the missive and tore it open. A slip of paper fell out. On it was a couple of pencilled lines. They read: "If you don't want every lout in Ingiefield to know that Nora is a convict's brat, you will meet her father this afternoon in Ingle Cleft, by the place they call the Bottomless Pit." I The signature was "Your loving Husband."  Mrs East crumpled the envelope and its enclosure—she saw all.. It had been to place that note where she was likely to find it that the writer had entered by the window, and, being disturbed, had darted behind the curtain, whence he had intervened to frustrate her intention of committing suicide. He must have left during her subsequent swoon, after ringing to secure attendance. She shivered again as she recognised the coolness and daring of the expedient so rapidly devised to prevent her renewing immediately the attempt on her life. Had that resolute grasp delayed an instant in fastening upon her hand and pistol, Nora would have been motherless. Motherless, but, horrible discovery, not fatherless! Sulade would not have cut the Gordian knelt tied by Cyril Marsden's inexplicable discovery of her secret, it would but have woven a deadlier skein about her unprotected darling. The mad. ness that had mastered her fell from Gertrude East; the stern vigour came back into her bearing—she would live for Nora's sake.  Buttoning the high collar that had been loosened to facilitate her recovery, she went out of the room and up the oaken, galleried stair. Nora met her on the landing and gasped, in sheer amazement. Efor mother gave her.no.time to .speak.  "My -dear child," she said, "don't look like that. Don't you know that I have always been like the lady in the play, 'quickly ii and well'? Desidas, I have remembered that to-day I must attend to some important business. There, _I am all right again,  believe me, and you oan -run away quite contentedly. I want to change this habit for something fit to have a nap in. Don't wait lunch for me; I will have a biscuit when I wake." She kissed her daughter almost gaily, patted a girlish cheek, and dieappeared into her own apartment before Nora had got over the shock of her abrupt re N ival. Hinging for her maid, she doffed her riding-costume, and, with the latter's asslistance, donned a soft teagown and ley down--not to sleep, but to think. Half an hour after she unaided, and put an a quiet