MR. PERKINS Of New Jersey, OR, THE STOLEN BONDS.

Auckland Star, Volume XIX, Issue 149, 25 June 1888, Page 6

MR. PERKINS Of New Jersey, OR, THE STOLEN BONDS.

CHAPTER XVI.

It was near midnight when a hospital waffoon stopped at Chung Lung's door, and two bearers and two policemen leaped out and entered. In vain the cringing, trembling Chung Lung protested there was no man there, it was all a mistake. 'See here,' said Appier, taking him rouKly by his queue. 'Get out of my way bed kick you, and ri.o* me where th:l^tSSee-nosickeefellee/ cried seized a lamp, aud without a word led the way through tortuous, dan and filthy passages, reeking in dub and stenches. On and mi he went till a Umt Sh„tr of light showed where Tatnck jv,« concealed. The poor wretch was mg iv a troubled sleep when tbey entcted. but roused up as the bearers put him on a H" Where am I ? Where am I ? he asked With friends,' said the detective. 'Don't be frightened.' , 'Friends!' said the poor creature. 1 didn't know I had one. Where am 1 going?' ... , ;::' To the hospital. Lie still. 'Heis in a critical state,'said the doctor, surveying the man. . 'Keep the life in him till _ morning, doctor," said Appier; * he is an important witness,' and he took his leave. Early the next morning Appier rang at Marlow's door. Sarah answered, and on seeing who it was, discharged at him two double-barrelled sniffs. < Good morning, Miss Albright, said Appier, eager to be polite. ' I want to see Mr Marlow,' as Sarah surveyed him with a stony glare. ' Most disagreeable female ! thought he, a cold rill running down his back 'Cat, indeed! Worse than any cat " he mused, as he follow id her to the dining-room, where Marlow soon joined ' Patrick is found,' said Appier abruptly, 'and is at the hospital' 'What?' cried Marlow. 'And he S&YS *" ——' 'He is too ill to say much. You must go to him as soon as they will allow visitors.' 1 How did you find him ?' Appier related his yesterday's experi- ' JTis impossible for me to believe that Mr Perkins had a hand in it!' ' Oh ! he's in cahoot with Dorset.

' I can't believe that!' ' They are brothers, you know, and blood is thicker than water. But that is neither here nor there. We'll know all this morning.' Appier stayed to breakfast, to the wrath of Sarah, who wished the food would choke him.

Ethel soon saw something was amiss, and Marlow was forced to tell her that he hoped he was on the track of his mother. < Oh ! if I could only hear something of my dear father!' cried th. «>'!• ' I think we will hear # iifm soon, Miss,' said Appier, as he took a quaff of tea. ■ •Oh ! do you ? Din lam so glad !' she trembled with exmcoment aud looked eagerly at her lover* bub his face Was clouded. Now would come the tug of war ! How could he tell her ? flow could he conceal it from her ? How could he* bid her decide betwixt him and her father ?

' Alex, take some tea ! He raised his eyes. How lovely she looked! so pure, so young, •so hmod&it! How could he give her up ?—Oh, no, no ! he could not! he could not! His troubled looks attracted her. ' Take gbmo tea?' said she gently. He started. «No—no—thanks—no tea.'

The breakfast ciime to an end. ' Perhaps they will make an exception in our favour,' said Appier, 'as the man is bad off;' and Marlow gladly agreed to go. 'Good morning.Miss,' said Appier, bowng, and left the room. Pull of contending emotions, Marlow nodded 'Good-bye, Ethel. I'll be back after awhile and report,' he said coolly, and followed Appier out to the hall. . Like a pendulum his feelings swung to and fro, and ho called himself a wretch to leave her so coldly. 'Wait a minute,' said he to Appier.,and hurried back..

Ethel stood by the window with her back to the door, her face covered. with her hands, the tears dropping through her fingers. Marlow strode across the room and clasped her in his arms. ' My darling ! did I hurt you by my coldness ? lam so distressed—so torn about! —My precious ! Hove you better than all the world ! -than any living thing—than life itself! There, there, sweetheart, don't cry ; every drop burns into my heart! Let me kiss them off.' . .

'I'm very childish, very foolish,' murmured the girl, her breath almost taken away by her lover's stormy affection. ' No, you are not —you are an angel—a precious love—My very heart-strings !' he etrained her closer. ' I love you ! I love you ! and nothing shall ever part us— Nothing l' One more close embrace, one more passionate kiss, he placed the astonished girl in a chair and abruptly left the room, and she heard the street door slam after him.

What on earth was the matter? A feeling of vague alarm took possession of her. " '■■■'■' 7 Marlow hurried away, and through Appier's influence got permission to enter the hospital at once. The doctor said the new patient was in a very precarious state. He had just slept off the Chinaman's drug and taken a little stimulant when the two entered. At sight of Marlow he shivered all over.

'Quiet yourself now,' said the doctor, ' quiet yourself, of he will have to leave.' , ,'I want to ask your pardon !'wailed the wretch. 'I want to ask your pardon.'

'Never mind my pardon,' said Marlow, 'but tell .me what you wished to confess when yon sent for me before.' 'To tell you. that I helped carry.off your mother.' ,

' Who did it ?' cried Marlow, passion ately, 'Whodid it?'

' Mr—'Here Patrick uttered a scream and fell back in a spasm. ' How provoking !' cried Appier. ' The Very name throws him into a fit!'

They waited awhile. The nurse, directed by the physician, administered restoratives and the tremor passed, tho patient's teeth unlocked. ' I warn you not to waste your time,' said the doctor in an aside. ' Another spasm will come on directly ; tho end is near, I think one of them will take him off.'

'Where is Mrs Marlow?' said the detective, keeDing his wits. ' Tell us that quickly ! now quickly !'

The poor wretch, all in a quiver, ground his teeth and through them hissed : ' At the Hopedale asylum !' 'The asylum!' cried Marlow, horrorstricken.

Before Patrick could answer, another spasm seized him.

'You'll get no more information out of him at present,' said the doctor, ' so let him be now.'

' Hopedale Asylum !' said Appier • Where is ib ?'

'In the suburbs of Alburn. A large private asylum. Dr. Felder has tpiite a fame, and has, I suppose, from five hundred to six hundred patients. It is a Splendidlynifc&aged place,-

«Not if they take in sane persons,' said Marlow, hotly. , The doctor shrugged his shoulders ; he did not believe the dying man's statement. Without another look at the struggling wretch, Marlow and Appier hurried oft to find when the train left for Alburn. On examining a time-table, Marlow saw that ho could leave at 1 p.m. He could get his mother and return next day. ' You don't need me,' said Appier. ' Not a bit, I can manage alone. ' Well,' said Appier, ' one hint. Ask tor Mrs Marlow ; say you are her son, it you choose ; bub don't say you are going to take her away till you see her, or you will have trouble. Let them think you have come to make her a call.'

'Why?' ~ , ~ 'lb will be safest. When Dorset pub her in, you don't know what he said. See your mother first; then you will know best what to say and how to act. And if there is any trouble you can telegraph for me.' Marlow agreed to all this, and then hurried home to notify Sarah. A3 he rode along he wondered how much he should tell Sarah and what he should say to Ethel. When her father's vile plans were exposed, would he allow him to marry Ins daughter? Would he refuse, and so retaliate on him that way? Would Ethel remain true to him ? Ho could not possibly keep up friendly relat ons with Dorset, aid would Ethel consent uo give up her father ? And if Dorset had shut his mother up in the asylum, where was he? Hiw much did Mr Perkins know? lie would go and see hipi if he had time. Though had he not better wait, for he might notify Dorset, and his mother be removed. But he doubtod if his brother knew much about' it; the Chinaman going there for money was no proof. He might have consented to act as Dorset's agent and paid the man not knowing for what. Perhaps he had told him some artful tale about Patrick. Dorset was vile enough for anything. He could not be the father of that angel. Oh ! it was disgusting ! he couldn't believe it! -he couldn't believe it! She must be some changeling left in his charge—maybe he stole her, he was so vicious—he hoped he did. He hated the thought that Dorset's blood flowed in her veins. She did not lco'.t like him-he was such a rough, coarse-looking man—and she —how delicate ! how refined ] Sarah looked astonished to see him back so soon. Ethel was in the parlour practis- I ing a new song he had given her. Mai-low beckoned Sarah into the dining-room aud closed the folding door. • Sarah,' said he, ' I have something to tell you. Now, keep your wits about you.' 1 Very well,' said Sarah, grasping the b ick of a chair and bracing herself, as if she expected a blow on the head. • I have just come from the hospital, where Patrick is dying.'

' Good Lord !'■ ejaculated Sarah. ' He has confessed that he helped to kidnap her.' ' Good Lord have mercy !' Sarah's hands tightened on the chair. ' And that she is now shut up in a lunatic asylum.' ' What! Good Lord have mercy on me 1 she gasped, staggering back as if he had dealt her a heavy blow. ' Calm yourself, Sarah. I leave at once for Alburn, and will probably return tomorrow with mother.'

' Thank God !' said Sarah, fervently. ' Amen !' said Marlow.

' But tell me,' said Sarah, who ' was Patrick helping, to put her into the asylum ' ' That I cannot say ; he fell into a fit before he could call any name. All that ho said was that he helped to put her into the asylum at Alburn.' ' Wretch of the earth!' cried Sarah, fiercely. ' I wish I had him here in these two hands—how I'd choke him !'

•Retribution has overtaken him very swiftly,' said Marlow gravely. * His greatest enemy could not wish him a worse fate than has befallen him. But to return to our own affairs. Prepare mother's room, and have everything ready for her ' 'Miss Ethel?' said Sarah ' Give her my room ! «And you ?'

* Put me anywhere—in the dining-room —in the attic —I don't care. And, Sarah, take good care of the child while I am gone. Don't let anything happen to her.' 'Of course not,' said Sarah, with mild contempt. ' What is there to happen to her?'

Marlow made no reply. He pulled open the folding doors, and went into the parlour.

' Ethel, my pet,' he said, as the girl rose to meet him, ' you will be glad to know I've heard of my mother.' 'Oh! lam indeed glad. Where is she ?' * At the" asylum at Alburn.'

'Theasylum I' 'The lunatic asylum.' ' Oh, oh, how dreadful! Alex, lam very sorry for you.' ' Sorry for me ?' ' That such an awful fate should have befallen her.'

1 Awful fate indeed ! Child, she was kidnapped and put there. She is nob insane.' 'Oh !' cried the girl, full of horror. ' What black-hearted wretch could do so vile a deed ?'

Marlow's brow contracted as he gazed on her. How pure and innocent she was. Oh, great heavens, could it be possible that she Was thab man's child? And when his vile plots were exposed what would the end be?

'Ethel,'said he abruptly, 'lam leaving you with a heavy heart.' ' Oh, how can you say that ?' said the girl. ' Why, if I could only see my dear father, or even know that he was safe somewhere, I would feel a3 gay as a bird.'

Marlow involuntarily recoiled. Ethel gazed ab him in surprise and her eyes filled. Marlow caught her in his arms. ' Ethel,' cried he, hoarsely, 'Ethel, my darling, I IoV .you ! I love you to distraction. My heart'is filled with gloomy forebodings of evil. Sweetheart, I love you better than life ! Promise me that whatever happens you will be true to me. Promise me, pro mise me!'

Ethel looked at him with an air of innocent surprise in her great dark eyes. ' True to you ?' she repeated in wonder. ' I feel that some great misfortune is impending over us. WhateveP may betide, promise me that you will be, true to me, that you will let no one come between its, that you will.love me only, love me ever. Promise me.'

' I promisei,' said the girl, clinging to him, frightened by his manner. ' Oh, Alei, what is the matter ?' ,

'My heart is torn by somo misgivings,' said Marlow as he kissed her passionately. ' But I love you to distraction, and I will never give you up. Never ! Never ! Remember that, Ethel, whatever may happen, on thab I am resolved.'

Then he tore himself away and placed her in Sarah's arms.

*I commit her to your caro till my return. Let nothing happen to her.' •Yon may bet on that,' said Sarah, stoutly.

Encircled in Sarah's arm, Marlow stooped and pressed one kiss on the girl's forehead and hurried from the house.

For many a long day did both Ethel and Sarah recall that last farewell. ■ '

(To be Continued.)