The Dead Witness: OR, THE LADY OF LISBON PLACE.

Auckland Star, Volume XVII, Issue 202, 28 August 1886, Page 3

The Dead Witness: OR, THE LADY OF LISBON PLACE.

By MRS. M. V. VICTOR,

Author of "The Phantom Wife," "Who

Ownod tho Jewels," &o,

CHAPTER XVllL— (Continued.) Oscar called a family meeting that day, and before his brothers and sistors, including Mr Herbert, denounced Vanco, openly accusing him of stealing the whole sum lost, and bribing Pollard to assist him. The family held up its hands.

Vance quietly remarked that Oscar was crazy, or deliberately wicked, he did not know which—h only knew that he did not propose to boar the onus of Oscar's recklessness. He had failed, and as ho wanted somo ono to blamo for it, Mr Goody-good had selected the scape-goat of the family, as usual. Vance was magnificent in his satirical Goldnoss. Every single person present sided with him except Maude. Thore wero high words> in which Vance cane off victorious.

The matter got in the papors, nobody knew how, and, as bofore t the impression

given was in young Stuyvesant. favour. Severe reflections were oast upon Averill's conduct. His clerk, hurt and offended,

sent in his resignation;

When Bhe heard of hor lover's disasters, Grace Delzemar, with true girlish rashness, came on from Boston to console him with her sympathy and to uigo upon his acceptance half—her whole fortune to repair them. Such action on her part would not have surprised Oscar. He know how noble, how sympathetic, how genorous was hor nature.

In the fearful bittornoss of his trial ho looked to her for comfort — not for pocumwy-

assistance—but for faith, love; sympathy, justice. Grace arrived at Mrs Woodcroft's about noon. That lady, feeline upon herself the responsibility of having "made the match," deemed it her duty to inform the surprised and distressed young lady of the rumours which were abroad with regard to Mr Averill's shameful use of his little brother's money, and all the accompanying circumstances.

Grace waa indignant, hurt; Bhe did not believe the report,v otoven-when Mrs Woodcroft asserted that Oscar's Own family acknowledged it, and were among tho most severe of his condemnors. Forced to admit that there must be something in it, she said that she woilld have the explanation from Osoar's own lips; she believed he could clear himself of all charges except those of rashness and over-eagerness to speculate.

" Faults," she said, " shared in by hundreds of other honorable men, who fell beside him. If he has not a dollar left, it will not make _ bit of difference to mo. Wo will be married on the appointed day all tho came."

She wrote a haßty line to her betrothed, asking him to come to her at once, at Mrs Woodcroft'e/where she was waiting ond longing to see him. In a short time the servant whom sho had despatched withthenotereturned and reported that he had delivered it "to the young gentleman." Now it chanced that Oscar was down town attempting to clear up some of the ruins, while Vance happened to be in the hall when the bell rang and the note was handed in. It was ho who took it, and guessing at its contents, thrust it in his pocket and went to call upon the writer. So that when Grace, hearing the footman showing a gentleman into the parlour, ran down all flushed and rosy with her enthusiam to show her lover how she trusted him and was sorry for him, hurried to receive him, it waa Vance, not Oscar, whom she met.

"Is—Mr Averill — ill?" she inquired, drawing back and changing colour. . " No, my dear Miss Delzemar : but he would not come. I dare say he shrinks from meeting you—under tho circumstances."

"He was always too sensitive," she murmured, determined to defend him. " He should have come, after reading my note. I told him that I longed to assure him of my warmest sympathy." " Which made him feel all the worse, I suppose. A man hardly dares to face a woman whom he has wronged as my brother has wronged you. Dear Miss Delzomar, may / tell you all about it ?" His voice was tremulous with the deepest sympathy ; his manner respectful to veneration ; he took hor icy hand and led her to a sofa, where he sat beside her the remainder of tbo afternoon, talking, low and earnestly, about the " wretched affair," putting everything in a false light, and winding up his wicked work by the assertion that his brother would fain have involved his betrothed wife's fortune in his speculations, also reminding ber of Oscar's great anxiety to be married in September, and boldly asserting that this was not a lover's fondness but a stock-speculator's sharpness ; adding the story with which we are familiar, that Oscar had told him that Grace was not his ideal, etc. He excused himself for repeating this on the ground that now was the hour to be fully undeceived, since so much bad already been shown. Poor Grace 1 mortified, convinced,_ tor. tared almost to death, she sat at last like a ghost immovable, pale, stony, until Vance was frightened at the effect of his iniquitous . eloquence. " What are you going to do about it 1" he asked, rather uneasily. "Ism going home in the morning, Mr Btuyvesant." This was just what he wanted. " Shall I ask Oscar to see you this evening ,Grace?" ... " Ask him to see me ! she repeated, with womanly scorn. " No, sir 1" And Vance had gone away delighted, certain that Oscar and Grace would not meet, and that Bhe would givo him his dismissal by letter. Miss Delzemar did as she said—returned to Boston the following morning ; and the first intimation which Oscar had of her having been in New York was the reception of a few cold lines from her, requesting that their engagement might be considered at an end. Under any other circumstances tho diamissed lover would have flown to her, demanding his right to a personal explanation. But not under these. He had been accused of falsehood and deception by his own family, and when he would have turned to his betrothed—the pure-minded, confiding girl, in whose love and trust he believed as he believed in himself and Mb Maker—for solace to his agonised feelings, she, too, condemned him unheard. From the hour in which he received her letter, Oscar Averill dropped all attempts to exonerate himself or to retrieve his fortunes. Making over every dollar of his property which still remained tobim to little Bennie, he left New York, telling no human being, except Maude, where he was going. _ Sick, _ick—sick almost unto death of life, he rashly resolved to change his name, and shake off every association of the past, He asked nothing of his past years except to forget them. In order to assume this false name without discovery, and escape the prying observation of Vance, be did not travel directly to California by rail, but took his way South, sailing from New Orleans to the Isthmus ; and there taking the regular steamer for San Francisco, where he arrived, as we know, one of the most forlorn of the many forlorn ones who have sailed through the Golden Gates to the shores of " the new El Vance, with all his wit and strategy, could never wile from Mrs Herbert any hint as to Oscar's whereabouts, although quite certain that she was in his confidence. He suspected that they corresponded ; but failed to track the letters. _ It waa not until this June evening, wben he overheard Mr Herbert rallying his wife on her secret correspondence, that he obtained any clue ; and very slight, indeed, this would have been, had be not resorted to the base means which he did—a small crime in a gentleman who had already done far worse desds. Nothing could exceed Vance s high spirits, and his graceful, mocking politeness to Maude, on the morning after their private interview in her littlo sitting-room. Mr Herbert had already left the breakfast-table and departed down town—anxious to transact what littlo business he had to do before the worst heat of tho day came on—when Vanee, the indolent, strolled into the breakfast room.

The two sisters were still idling over their cups, discussing tho Newport question ; how soon the houso should be closed, and would the dressmaker ever como up to timo with their summer dresses, etc. Ho entered into this feminine chat with all the esprit of a lady ; .only betraying to Maude that he cherished any feeling against her by bia profuse and extravagant gallantry. Lillio was delighted with him. Even Mrs Herbert could not deny his fascinations, and half-forgive him his wickedness, except wh9n her heart went out toward Oscar, betrayed, exiled, rui_ed by that wickedness. Ho kept them at table until the hour came at which Lillie was to have been at hor dressmaker's ; then he offered to escort hor there, asked Mrs Herbert if sho had any errands, vowing that his timo was hers and ho should be grateful if sho would give him something to do for her.

And all tho time his dancing eyes smiled into hers with a triumph which m.de her uneasy, she knew not why. There wan no humility, no contrition, no fear, in his demeanour. One would not havo dreamed that she htld in her possession the moans of bringing tint haughty spirit to shame. His manner made Maude far more uneasy than a moody or reproachful one would havodone. She somprohended something of how utterly reckless ho was, andhis threat of suicide returned to her again and again, making hor shivor in tho warm June weather.

As he went out with Lillie to tho oarriago brought around for their shopping and dressmaking excursion she detained him a moment in the hall, whispering in his ear :

" Remember ! you have threo months in which to confess and repent."

"My darling sissie, you aro too good to an unmitigated scamp like your humblo servant. Threo months ! one can do a great deal in that time,"