THE MIDNIGHT PROPHECY; OR. THE HEIR OF STRATHSPEY TOWERS.

Auckland Star, Volume XIX, Issue 151, 27 June 1888, Page 6

THE MIDNIGHT PROPHECY; OR. THE HEIR OF STRATHSPEY TOWERS.

BY EMMA ■ GAIUUSON JONES.

Author of • A Great Wrong,' ( A Southern

Princess,' ' A Terrible Crime,' ' The

Missing Bride,' etc,

CHAPTER IV.—(continued. )

What mi-ht have been the ultimate effect of the drowsiness which had so strangely affected Lord Strathspey, we can only surmise The entrance of Doctor Renfrew broke the sorcerer's spell. As he stepped within the apartment the deadly perfume almosftook away his breath, and he staggered back, clutching at the door-post for support. His first thought, as ho recovered himself, was that the distracted young nobleman had made an attempt on \m own life.

"Heavens, Angus!'.he cried, in a voice of horror, ' what is this ? The earl lifted his heavy eyes, stared vacantly for an instant, and then pointed SCSw oi parchment that Jg a hi, feet The old sureeou picked it up, but as the puSnt odour struck his nostrils he dropped it as if it had burned him. 'Good heavens !' he cried, as he dashed we shall both be done for. The most deadly Eastern drug produces this perfume, and to inhale it is certain death. Angus,forHeaven's ; sake rouse yourself, he Continued, grasp ng tt?.-W*.*Xjg shoulder and giving him a vigorous shake, ' and tell me what this means J Lord Strathspey staggered up and made his way to the window. The fresh air soon revived him, but that awful prophecy still rano- in his ears. : ;■■ . . , 'Sly own doomed to a felon's fate ! he muttered, as ho stopped and pioked up the parchment. 'Doctor Renfrew, will you look at this?' , , ~ The old Scotchman took it charily enough, and. examined it at arm s length. ' And pray how came you by this wonderful bit of nonsense?' he asked, depositing.it on the sill of the open window as it it were a fire-brand. Lord Strathspey, related tjhe occurrence of the past night, and the doctor uttered something like an oath. ' The same villain who was lurking in the hall before your arrival,' he cried, 'and no donbt, the same who stole the child. I charged Jeffries to take him into custody Why didn't the knave do it ? All this mischief might have been prevented, Angus, put, down that thing,' he continued, ' What means this alarming propneuy r questioned the earl. '■ Ma'u cannot tight with "fate ! Renfrew, this prediction will haunt me till the day I die !' 'Ppn't'be a fool, Strathspey !' stormed the old doctor; 'that odour has turned your brain. Prediction indeed ! The work of some crafty .villain; can't you see? All that' scribblirig's nothing but moonshine, and so is your prediction. Bub tho thing has been steeped in that deadly drug, and if 1 hadn't happened in here as soon as 1 did it would have done its wlc. ' Don't you s.ee? You Have some bitter enemy, and a crafty one, too. . Who is it, Angus';' ' Heaven knows!' replied the, earl, solemnly. 'I have never given any man cause to be my enemy. But, doctor, how is my wife?' The old surgeon's face fell as he answered.. ■ '~-■ , , 'Very low, my boy,' he said. 'lm afraid to tell you there's but a'spark of hope. Youmust be prepared for the worst at any moment. The : London men are with her now, and we've all agreed that there is but one chance for her life, at\cl that may fail.' "' What is it.?' faltered the ypung husband.

> ' Sh<s must have fresh blood infused into her veink -That's Avhat I came here to tell you. You understand ?r-blood from some pile's veins infused into hers. We have to do it on rare occasions. But vfhoie blood shallitbe?' '■) , ■■ ; ■■■^-.\ ■ 'Minel' replied' the earl, paring ius muscular arm to the elbow as he spoke. 'But Doctor Renfrew shopk his head. > «I?m: afraid it won't do, Angus/ he said. 'You're feverish and excited, '. and half poisoned by thab.infernal perfume; and you've not recovered wholly from that last illness. ; It must be pure, healthy blood. A woman's blood would be best.?l ;■■.. Thtey were interrupted by a light tap, and. Judith put her head in at the door. 'I beg you** pardon,-my lord,' she said : ' but tho doctors are waiting. They say yon must come at once; there's not. a monie'ntto lose.' . ■ ■• •■ :; '■ ■■ ' What shall we •do ?'cried the earl. 'Doctor, u-on't my blood answer? For Heaven's sake, be quick !' 4 Is there no one else ?' replied the doctor. 'There'll be a risk in infusing your blood in its present heated state. It should be calni, healthy blood, and a < woman's, if we could get it.' > ' " ;: ;' : Judith, who had remained; at the door, advanced into the room, rolling up her sleeve as she came. . /'-tit 'Doctor'—she hesitated-^'my lord, i beg your pardon,- but would you--—' And she paused, crimson with embarrassment, Still extending, her bare brown arm. The old sargedn glanced over, her lithe, •well-formed figure; and it her^pretty rosy facei and. his1 gtey eyes lit with admiration. ' Do you mean to say, Judith,' he asked, * that you aTe willing to give the countess your blood?' ' ' : • " 'That's what I mean,' she replied; *if my lord Will not be offended.' 'Offendedj' Judith?' cried the earl. ■■' heaven bless you ! If you save my wife, I'll give you five thdusand pounds for your marriage portion. ' "■ : 'Done! A bargain, Judith,' cried the doctor. ' You are just what we want, strong arid healthy. Como on. I trust you'll cetyoiir reward.' ' ■ 41 cfon't want any reward, ' sobbed the girl, as she followed them ; 'I'd freely give every^drbp in niy body to save my poor lady's'life.' - On her bed in the crimson stato chamber lay the young mother, white as a snowdrift,the breath fluttering on hor pallid. Kps, and beside her sat the two London surgeons, grave and silent. They arose as Doctor Renfrew entered, with Judith at his side. .........

,' She'll do,. I am certain,' he said, leading lier'to the bedside.

' The doctbrs nodded simultaneously, and. began to make their preparations. 'Now, my good.girl,'.said Doctor Renfrew, placing her ..in a seat, ' be calm and strong; weiwon'fc Hurt ypu,,,, Here, Strathspey, can't you- be-ready to support her. head, if she needs it ?'

41 shall nob need it, doctor,'replied Judith, looking up r with her steady brown eyes, and extending her brown dimpled arm.

And she was right. She eat like a statue while the doctors did their work, and sent her rich warmi-blood thrilling through the sluggish veins of the almost lifeless sufferer.

' I believe it will save her,' remai-ked one of the doctors, as he bandaged Judith's arm. :

' Heaven grant it!' responded the earl; and he added, glancing at Judith's white cheeks as she left the chamber, * whether ifc does or not, my good girl, you shall have 70UEj^arrisgo pprtion (

CHAPTER V.

THE IUKTII'MAKiC.

OXE morning when the winter fogs hung dark and dense over the Scottish hills that surrounded Strathspey Towers, there wnj another clash of joyous bells echoed and repeated from every beliry for nines around, not this time rejoicing for a butli, but for a life that was spared. iho Countess of Strathspey would live - For weeks alter that morning when they filled her chill veins with Judiths warm blood, she lay in a death-like stupor ; tor wS they looked for her death day by day, hour by hour. Vet, alter all, sLe lived. Slowly enough she rallied.; her X had touched, a, it were the ohi I waters of the dark river, her soul had wellnigh passed the mystic confines that separate us from the land of spirits; and she came back to life, with a feeble, creeping step. But the danger was past; she would live ! , .. The bells clashed in gladness, and the ioyful news flew from lip to lip, till the country for miles around was in a tumult of rejoicing. For the countess was beloved by her parahioners, from the oldest came in the chimney corner to the little whitehaired children that played uponthe sands. ' I tell you, Strathspey,' said Doctor Kenfrew, when he had imparted the good news to the earl, ' you've need to be grateful. I'm an old man, and I've seen some extreme cases, but I never did see anyone recover after being so near death s» your wife w» But she's safe'now, yet not strong; andl would advise you to take her back to Aukland Oaks, or even to France or Italy, for. the winter. These northern winds are too keen for her thin blood.' ' And resign all hope of recovering my boy ?' asked the earl. 'Certainly not. You can push the search just as well in one place as the other. But, to be frank with you, Angus, I'm afraid you'll never hear from him. For one thing, I don't thinu the child could gtorvive-snatcned away, as it was, only an hour or so after his birth. I don't wish to dishearten you. but I'm afraid the case is °f he earl sat silent, his hands locked tightly, his face white and rigid. ' Good Heaven, Renfrew '.' he burst out, at last, 'who could have done it ?_ Ivo racked my brains trying to make it out. I've not an enemy in the world that I know of- and my successor, ifl die without an heir, is Sir Rudolph Charming, and he has been travelling in the East for years ; and, if he were here, 'twould be all the same. Who, then, is this mysterious enemy ? The old surgeon shook his head. " Tis folly to ask me, Strathspey, lie replied "when the sleuth-hounds of Scotland Yard can't cet on the scent. 'Tia an awful mystery ! it may be cleared up one day, but the best thing you can do is to try and' forget it, and be grateful for what you ye got-your wife and the baby girl. She s a Bonnie little bairn.' ~../., . ,„ •I am grateful,' replied the earl. No man could be more grateful; But 1 can t forget it. That awful prediction haunts nic day and night. lam always thinking that my child was stolen1 that he may be reared up in gush a manner that it will ' What win prvVy u ««w>- ' That prediction—that horrible ' ' Oh, nonsense! 1 gave you credit, Angus, for having better cense. Don't talk about that trickery,' said the doctor. ' But I can't help it,' replied the earl. 'It haunts me eternally, sleeping or walking. ' I believe it will drive nic mad in the end.' 1 Then you'll deserve to go mad !' retorted the blunt old Scotchman. ' Perhaps so,' replied Lord Strathspey. :At the. same hour, Lady Strathspey sat} propped up amid her pillows, and beside her was Judith, with bhe little girl-babe upon her knees. Since her convalescence, or rather since she had been pronounced out of danger, the countess had heard the story of Judith's generous fidelity, and how it was to her strong blood she owed her life; and she felt so grateful to the girl, and conceived such an affection for her, that she refused to have any other attendant in her chamber., So Judith was installed a3 lady's maid and nurse combined in one, and for hours she sat by her mistress, with the child on her lap.' It was a bright, thriving little thing, and the poor mother's'heart clung to it with a love that amounted to idolatry. 'But if it were only-a boy !' she sighed, with the tears filling her handsome eyes J 'not that I care, Judith, but for my lord's sake—he did so desire an heir, and his disappointment is very bitter. -Ah, Judith, it is terrible to think of—the fate of my poor babe—snatched from mo before I ever looked upon' its little face ! If it had died I could have borne it with resignation, but to have it torn from me in such an awful way, and never to know whether it is alive or dead, 'tis more than I can bear.' ' There, now, my dear lady, you really roust not excite yourself,' Cried Judith, in alarm. 'You are so weak yeb'there's no tellinf what the consequence might be. I knowliow bad'it is, but look at your pretty little girl here, and for her sake and poolmaster's sake, don't fret so, and throw yourself back.' Thus appealed to, the countess raised her head and wiped the streaming tears from her cheeks. ' I try to bear ifc as well as I can, Judith, she said ; ' but you dori't know how hard it is. Give me the babe for just a little while, won't you ?'• . , ,': •■ : Judith glanced with alarm at the lady b flushed cheeks, but'she could not find it in her heart to deny her. She put the babe into her arms. 'Oh, my darling ! mydarling!' murmured the countess, covering the little dimpled face with kisses. 'Ah, Judith, shouldn't I have been a proud and happy mother if 1 could have kept them both ?. ■ 'You would, indeed, my lady,' answered the girl; 'but trouble arid disappointment fall to everyone's lot, the highest and the lowest. I trust the child is better off.3 'Better off! What do you mean, Judith?' • Why. my lady,' hesitated Judith, 'it's only natural to suppose the child died—it was so young, Jartd the night was so stormy.' The countess meditated for a few minutes, stroking the baby-girl's velvet cheek with her thin, white fingers. ' If I were sure he died,' she said, at last, 'I could feel resigned in time—l should know my baby was in the fold of the merciful Father; but I have a feeling that he lives — that he is alive, to-day—and I am sure that it is so, Judith.' ' 'In that case, my lady, you possibly.may recover him some day.' ' But how should-i know,' returned the, countess, quickly, 'whether he were my true child or not ?' ' ■.

•■'/ should knoio,' replied Judith, quietly. 'You? Why, how should you know, Judith, if the child had grown and changed ?'■ > ' ■ •The little boy had a marl:, my lady—a very peculiar mark, too. V ' Judith! And you have n&t told me before?' • ' " ' • •

' i have been forbidden to speak with you on the subject, my lady, and Doctor Renfrew would be -very angry if lie know you were talking now.' • ''• : - .;■ . 'It is no worse to talk of a thing than to brood over it continually, Judith. Tell mo what the mark was?' •■■ ' • '

' A scarlet cros-i, very fine and slender, on the right arm, between the shoulder and elbow. I saw it when I was dressing the child, and I don't think the doctor or Mother Goodwin noticed it.' -

' You are certain about it, Judith ?'

'lam, my lady. I noticed the mark particularly, and thought at the time that by no chance could the child be mistaken for another. I have thought of it a great dea Ssince the babe was carried.off, and yefc, somehow, I did not like fo spealrof it.'

< How strange !' ejaculated Lady Strathspe y. 'It is" the hand of Providence, Judith. The child bears the Strathspey birth-mark-the mark of the scarlet crass. For years-centuries, I may say—it has appeared every now and then, and always on a male child. It was but yesterday that Lord Strathspey spoke of it, when we stolo a short iuterview while Doctor Renfrew* was away. He said how fortunate it would have been if the Strathspey mark had appeared upon the body of our babe. Like myself, he is impressed that the boy v alive. Ah, Heaven be praised; we may find him, Judith—we may find him ! ' Heaven grant it, my lady !'

CHAPTER VI.

Judith's dream,

Lord Strathspey had made up his mind, to spend the remainder of the winter in the south of France; his wife had a chateau there, for she was an" heiress in her own right when he married her. She was very fond of Provence, und preferred it even to Aukland Oaks, which was the home of her childhood ; and in obedience to her wishes it was settled that Provence should bo. their destination. Their preparations wero necessarily very much hurried, for the winter was pretty well advanced, and it was desirable that they should make the journey as soon as possible. ... A couplo of weeks from the day on which Doctor Renfrew suggested that they should leave the Towers, found them all in readiness, and the morrow appointed for their departure. The afternoon was chill and gloomy, wjtn a leaden sky, and a desolate, driving rain. A bright lira burned upon the marble hearth of the crimson chamber, and the, countess sat bofore it, wrapped In her cashmere dressing-robe, and the little baby girl upon her knees. Lord Strathspey was bending over her chair, lug line face full of tenderest love. They had been dobating In regard to the moat appropriate name to bestow upon the little lady. 'Yes, it must bo Marguerite,' the earl was saying. ' 'Tia her mother's name, and the sweetest name in the world to mo, Marguerite, the pearl! It will suit her— don't you think so, Judith ?' Judith sat at a distant window, very busy over some article appertaining to the lady's wardrobe. 'I don't think you could choose a prettier name, my lord,' she replied, modestly. ' Wisdom spoken, Judith,' returned the earl, gaily ; ' and I suppose,' he continued, 1 you are going down to Provence with us, Judith, to"help take care of Lady Pearl? I was afraid that Hondrick might raise some objection, or possibly want to claim you himself?' , : , , ' No, my lorci,' the girl replied, her dusky cheeks growing crimson, and the lids droopirig over her brown eyes, ' Hendrick does not object, and if he did 1 should never dream of leaving my lady in her present condition.' , ' She would never be able to fill your place, Judith,' continued the earl; • still we do not wish our interests to come between you and Hondrick; he is a fine, worthy young fellow. When is Lady Strathspey to have the misfortune of losing 1 Never, my loru, u«i-a n™ nountess; 'they arfc both to live with us when the\ marry.' ' Is. that it ?' replied the earl. ' Well, well, I quite, approve of the arrangement. When is the happy event to come off, Judith ?'

Judith flushed hotly, but her voice was clear and steady.

' Not until ho makes another voyage, my lord,' she replied ; ' he'll be second mate then, anil he promises to give up the sea and settle down. But'l;doubt whether he'll be willing, as I tell'him, when the time comes, for you can't make a good landsman of a sailor, no way.'

' Very true, my girl,' responded the earl; ' but 1 dare say you can persuade him; he'll have no need to follow the sea, for you shall bring him a' dowry of five thousand pounds on your wedding-day.' ' Oh, my lord !' cried the girl, ' I would never think of taking nuch a fortune, though I'm obliged to you all the same.' 'There'll be no taking in the question,' said Lord Strathspey. ' I shall have the money settled upon you the day you marry, and think it but a poor compensation. You saved my Yrife's life, Judith.' 'The pleasure,of knowing it is reward enough, my lord..' 'No doubt;- still a few-thousands will not go amiss when you begin to have"little ones of your own about your feet; but we'll not argue thepofntnow—waittillHondrick's voyage is over.' r / } . 'Little one, Lady Marguerite,' he continued, turning to the ,babe upon his. wife's lap, and pinching its -volvet cheoks,; ■' can't you laugh, a little bit for papa ?' . ". :' ■ ! " The infant smiled,- and its mother .Went off into raptures. .. , ■ '~:,.' ' Oh, pray, look at her !' she cried. 'She! is laughing, ehe knows you, she understands you, Angus !' Lord Strathspey kissed the little creature, and continued his baby-talk, but all of a sudden he grew silen*, and glancing up at him the countess saw that his face was full of inexpressible regret- She read his thoughts in ( an instant, and, her blue eyes filled tfith tears. •' Poor Angus !'■ she said, putting up one hand to caress him. ■■' m

He clasped tho little hand and carried it to hie lips. ■ ■ ■. ' Forgive me, darling,' he said, 'I could not help it! The thpught struck me that if we, could have kept the boy wo should have been choosing his name and rejoicing over him. I could bear it if he were dead, but this uncertainty in regard to his fate is terrible.' :■'] . ■ ■ . .

He stood a moment, struggling hard to overcome his emotion, and then turned abruptly and left' the apartment: The countess bowed her head upon her hand! and the tears trickled through her fingers. In a little while sh/i> looked up. 'Judith,' she said, her voiccJ sounding hoarse and unnatural, ' the doctors say I shall never give birth to another child, and that is why my lord grieves so for his boy. • Judith, Judith, we must find him ! With him the name of Strathspey will die ! Sir Rudolph Charming will come in as my lord's successor; and ' for centuries the Strathspeys have lived and died in this grim -old "castle. Judith, -we must find the heir!'

' I think wo shall, my lady,' replied the girl; ' I had a dream the other night, and some way I can't pub it out of nay mind ; I can't help believing we shall hear something' soon.' ' ' 'Oil, Judith !' cried the countess, turning breathlessly toward her, ' a dream, did you say ? What was it '!" ,--,... '■ ."

'It was Tuesday night, Judith began, as she fitted in the sleeve of the dainty little robe she was making : ' I went to bed 'ate, for I'd been in the housekeeper's roqni, helping her to assort the linen, and I got to : sleep the moment I touched the pillow. I seemed all at once to be in a green valley between two high hills, and right before me wag a little, low farm-house; I can see it so plain, my lady.' , ' 'Goon, Judith/ said the countess, im patiently.

' I thought,' continued Judifcb, • that I went in, and there was, an -old wojnan sitting in one corner, and a table, in the middle of the floor; laid out for dinner, with pewter dishes. You . can't tell how plain it all seemed.' ,• ■ ~

' Go on, ' nodded the countess,

'An old man eanie into dinner, and he seemed to be di-eadfully worried about a milch goafc that was missing from< his flock. He wanted the old woman to go with him to search for it, and then he asked me. : I thoughts that I went out into the valley where he kept his cattle, and ever bo,

far up the heights. But we could not find the missing goat, and the old man was about to return in despair, when away up on the very top of a sharp cliff we espied 'And now, my lady,' continued Judith, ' comes the strangest" part. When we had almost reached her, the old man cried out: " Why, she's got kida !' But at the same moment we heard a strange cry, and harried on. And, my lady,lt was not a kid, but a baby.' ' A baby, Judith ?' cried the countess. ' A real baby, my lady, and it a sucking the creature. I took it up in my dream, and looked at its little face, and I knew it in an instant.' Lady Strathspey, uttered a suppressed, cry. Judith hurried to her side in alarm, but she waved her off. 'What? —who was it?' she cried, excitedly. 'It was your baby, the stolen heir, my lady!' " 'Judith!' . j

' To make sure that my eyes did not deceive me, I thought I turned up the sleeve of the right arm, and there between the shoulder and the elbow was the birth-mark, tha scarlet crons.'

Lady Strathspey, turned deadly whito, and for a moment or two her breath came in gasps, but by a great effort she controlled herself, and said quietly:

' And what else, Judith ? Let mo hear the end.'

' There's but little else, my lady,' Judith answered:'after seeing the birth-mark, I was so glad, in my dream, for your sake and my lord's, that the heir was found, that I cried out for joy, and that awoke me. But some way the dream-has. still haunted me and 1 can't get it out of my head that you will hear something soon.' ' I have felt impressed in the same way for several days,' paid the countess; ' and I very much regret that we're going to France; indeed, I would abandon the journey now if my lord would consent. I fear that Borne tidings or messenger may reach the Towers while we are absent. The large rewards offered will be sure to bring something to light.' ' In that case, my lady,' Judith replied, ' it will be all the same if you are in France ; you will not be long hearing the npws.' • I suppose not; yet I feel unwilling to go. At another time nothing would give me more delight than the prospect of spending the winter at tho dear old chateau ; but now I am in no mood for anything, nor shall I ever be until my boy is found. But Lady Pearl is asleep, and you may take her to her cradle, Judith.' And Judith obeyed, nestling the tiny, pearl-fair face amid the embroidered pillows, and the night shutdown black and stormy, their last night at Strathspey Towers. Alas 1 could they have foreseen the many changes, the undreamed -of changes, that were to como in the. years that lay before them, the earl and his lovely younw wife would never havo slept so peacefully as they did that night!

{To be continued on Saturday.)