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

Auckland Star, Volume XIX, Issue 215, 12 September 1888, Page 6

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

BY EMMA GARRISON JONES, Author of ' A Great Wrong,' 'A Southern Princess,' ' A Terrible Crime,' 'The Missing Bride,' etc,

CHAPTER LX

DEFEATED.

JiJDixft lost iio tiriib in carrying out her determination to warn Captain Fossbrooke of bis dabget; The moriaerit her dutiei to Lady Marguerite were ended^ she hurried ticross the \ypld, in tho waninglight, to the l'esidence of Mr Keithi •,■ > . "'",.'

The old Highland country housie was very silent and sad, for Mr Keith \vasj: absent, at work with the detectives who #ere trying to find poor Maggie; and the old doctor was sitting out upon the stone'steps, hia! head bent itpori his breast, given over to j despair and grief. Judith approached him with tears in her | ......' eyes: '", ■••'. ■ • ■■'' ' ; •,.. I . 'Ay, 'tis you; my girl,' he said* in reply ;. to her salutation, hia eyes fall of the wistful inquiry that never left them. 'I was in: hopes--' He stopped short, his voice choked and unsteady. 'But 'tis useless.' he added after a moment. 'I may as well giveupall hope. \ She's gone, Judith—my pretty bairn's gone—l shall never hear from her again.' : ; t There was deep pathos in the old fathers grief for the daughter he loved so fondly,, Judith's tears fell fast as she-looked at hunv" but her Mrftrds were the words of hope and con'solatiohi ■"■'." : : ; . ;.,.'■ ■ . 'Do not despair,' she said • 'lira iure you will find her—l feel it somehow, * 'doctor—-she's not gone.' ; ; # , But he shook liis gi-ey head in despair. - 1 ■Remember how it was about Hendrick,' the girl continued, hoping to cheer him. ? I had mourned him as dead so long, and in the hour I least looked for it, he Was restored to me. The mercy of Heaven is endless, arid its power is omnipotent, doctor. You will surely find your child again.' He looked tip at the summer stars above hiinJ Judith's earnest words thrilled him •with renewed hope. She passed on, in search of the captain, &nd found/ to her consternation, that he ■ was absent* gone to Glasgow, to return on j Thursday. On Tliursday, the very day on whicn tho fatal wine party was to be Held ! What should sherdo?: Hurrying home through the silent starlight, she thought until her temples throbbed with pain, and 'at last determined to reveal the whole affair to the ... , : countess,., •;.:;■•■. k .\:\-..v ' . Lady Marguerite was in the music-room when Judith reached Kavenswold, filling all the summer silence with her • mournful melodies, and the girl ran to her own little ■ room, to seek advice from her husband. :; • She had told him the story of the baronet's treachery before, and he had strongly approved of her decision to reveal all to the countess, j •,. .-. ■ ■.■■ .. ■ •.*.•. 'There's something wrong,' be said, in his grave, slow manner, I can'tsee ,: through it. I've been watching the baronet since you told me, and there's something ' wrong with himv.Judith. He starts arid looksbehindhim when there's mv cause— vK.s,lie's goba seteet of aomekind Qn'his mind, j ;(■-;.; I'm sure jo' that.' " ." J^"v-' ,"*■*:"-.- :■ K/- ---.;< i* And'he to be my poor little Pearl's husband !'cried Juditbu • And a night or two apb,' pursued Hendrick, without noticing what she said, 'I was down in the|stablesj randj SJr Bayard came down—he' 3 always prying" about the' horses'; They both stopped and stared at each-other, and says the captain : •Why, ColonelMicKmbridßro&lsejpdtlive? • 'And Sir Bayard, he turned sb white that I thought he'd drop where he stoodt The captain went on with a laugh, and then Sir Bayard fell to sweariri' awful. I wonder what it all'means?' , .'...' 'Colonel Richmond Brooke,' repeated Judith, thoughtfully. - ".;.: '* 'Xes,' Said Hendrick; 'that's the name. I remember it well.' •Well, 'tis all in a tangle,' She replied: *i can't begin to see one erid ffbtia t'other; but Til take your advice and tell the whole thing to the countess.' . ■ , • :'■' '■■■ 'Ay, lass, 'tis the best thing you can do,' responded fiendricki: stroking her brown hair as he arose to so out. Arid Judith went straightway and tapped for admittance at the door bf^the countess's sitting-room.;, The old lady had a new novel before her and her inevitable silver mug of. strong. coffee at her elbow. She stared a little as Judith, entered and begged the favour of her attention: for a few ■: minutes. But she closed her novel, and pushed back her goggles, and laid one hapd on the jewelled head of her staff, arid bade her proceed with what she wished to say. Judith; obeyed, rehearsing.i in a conbise ; and strictly truthful manner^ and -'With; ; that terse and Striking ntyle 'that was one of her gifts,the whole affair from;beginning to end, winding up iwibh the little incident that Hendrick" had -nbticed,:in the : stable-yard. ;rMi-u ■ -,; .•■-■•;- '" ', . ~ The countess olistened.iher keen eyes blazing.hernaridsworkingnervously ori the ''.:'•■?■!top of her cane, iSlie comprehended all the points that had escaped the girl's compre- .' ■■■'•■■' tension* :i" ':■■■■■>• k'-^';' '"'■■'■ '■''■ -;'::'-" '■'■''■ - ; .When the story was ended she brought down Her stick with, a crash. 'There, 3 she cried excitedly, 'I see the ■ whole thing: "now .••as1 • clear ■as ■ daylight. • What a bliad idiot I've been.not to fiuspec* |b before., The man's an impostor, and " Bayard Bromptom'i dead — murdered •! That's the -whole in - a "autshell. Poor Bayard.' She meditated a moment and then ;■'■":: bounded to her feet with the alacrity of a' girl. ♦ Merer, ioy gadd^itl,' she cried, as jshe, threw off her velvet gown, 'dress me quick.' I won't ring for my maid—bherer the black satin and a fresh turban. Oh, Heayeh !' ■' went "bn'i 'excitedly, .'.as. Judith hastened. to obey, 'to:think how'l'ves ufferedmyself to be duped—thank Heaven, 'tis not too late. Pcbr Pearl, poor little girl, whatai ; fate she has escaped. - , j 'Girl,' turning upon Judith as she was j , folding the anowy turban, 'I'll 'giveyoua. fortune for the service that -you've done me to-night; a fortune that will make you'a '' lady;' . : > ' \ , ' "; ;>' ,'',-:": Judith thanked1; her ; --aß:she arranged the turban and looped ifc in front with the great flashing diamond. The countess grasped, her stick and'hurried down. r , , ■■; , •■' Pearl was still_ afa the piano, ana the; barone{»was bending over her chair,, doing tis utmost play, the devoted plover,, the poor girl shrinking .away from, him with horror and aversion. ' >i . ' The countess crossed the room with the tread of a*cat aad"put her lipS'close to the ■•'■,■■:: baronet's ear.' /:!} :""■'.; ■i ">:;. ; ,v'-J-.'::- ',■ •' • Colbhd "Richmond Brooke,' she , cried, ' shrilly,.' when didyou murder■ Sir Bayard - Erompton?' '„. .''■,.■-..'...'■ • "■.,;,',,.■;.;/.■:■ : •'„■'. The baroriefc bounded up as if a bullet had ■■'■■'■ ' B^ruck him, turned sharply and: stared at theccfuntess in blank consternation. Then, comprehending the whole, his face slowly * whitened, and with one or two ineffectual ;; v gasps he sank to the floor insensible.y: ; The countess sat dowiij contemplating the • prostrate soldier with'an aniused twinkle in '■■; ;Her sharp eyes. -- ;, ~, '„,',.,. v «iVe-giveii myself cireait all,tny- mefor. being a clever woman,' she observed, .'but I'm convinced jaovr that I'm Jineu&rably, pfcnpidj that I ever should have been brought

to belieVe that creature a Bromptoh,. P^ah . Marguerite, chilcl, ring the bell.will you > Marguerite, pale with wondering dismay, hastened to obey. : f ■" \ "-. , i j 'Call that gentleman's valeb, commanded the counteEss of the servant who entered, indicating the prostrate bafoneC with the toe of her satin slipper.' . In five minutes Leonard entered, a startled lbbk in his black eyes. ~. ■ : .■-;., «Take vbur master t6 his room, said the countess; 'he is ill. I will have a physiciari called in.' , , , Leonard obeyed with alacrity; and the dowager proceeded to call in, not.aphysi S,t a pair of officers., Half an hour later they invaded the baronet's room, but lo the casement was wide open, and the baronet arid his valet were both gone ;.: . I Brit the Unsuccessful soldier had left his ! written confession behind^him. 1 'I am Sii-v Bayard Brptnptdrt s halfbrother by an illegitimate connection. His father did n\y mother Van unpardonable wrong, and I owed her son a grudge. Moreover, I was the bider sdri, the title and wealth were mine) T tried to secure them; I have failed.' • «Poor fellow,' tnused the countess; ,ne did have a look of the BroraptoiiS, and 1 can't help feeling sortie pity for him. But he's a' murdbrer—put the officers on his track.''... V =-.;':' ' . ',■;-■: %'■ "■:. ■■■ \JV ;■:.;.; ■ ■'/':•'

CHAPTERLXI.

SAVED BY LOVE. " The wedding day had come and gone, but there waa.no marriage. , The magnificent Parisian trousseau was hidden out of sight;; the upholsterers and French cooks had been ' dismissed;' and the silence and gloom of S the grave had settled down upon the old I Highland bastlo, for in her chamber Lady ! Marguerite lay at the point of death. i She had borne all her sorrow with fortitude, and determined to sacrifice herself rather than harass and disturb her fath with a heorismthat amounted to sublimity; but the shock andjoy other sudden release had prostrated her on a bed of illness, from which those who loved her best feared she would never rise. And the earl did not return from London. They had telegraphed for him repeatedly without success, and now that his daughter grew worse, day by day, Captain X< pssbrooke had gone down in person to n arid bring him to Kavenswold. . , . Lady Marguerite's disease was brain lever, of a very malignant type, and the crisis was at hand. ; ,' ' We shall knbw to-night,' said Dr. Renfrew, who had shaken off the bitter burden of his own grief, and was doing his utmost to save Pearl. He shook his head sadly as he looked down upon her wan, waxen face. ' I am afraid the chances are against her. If she lives, it will beam iraclej _~ Lady Neville left the room in tears. Iho dreadful .denouement in regard to the baronet, together with Marguerite's illness, j and the earl's uniiecouhtable delay, had.1 completely unnerved that stately matron..: She did nothing butweep and bemoan her j ruefulfate. ' j The countess remained by Pearls bed- j side, wrapped in her velvet dfessiDg-gown, Mer tttrban awry, her goggles pushed back, j ! She looked down Upon the white, wan face | ! of the dying girl with a suspicious moisture! liii her eyesi "Marguerite was tbssihg rest; I lessly, and clasping and unclasping her thin little Hands. ', . I ■" 'Oh, papa,' she moaned, plaintively, ; fl| will do w for your sake; but I shall die— ik'n'by the good-Lord will let me die. It Wp«l<i be ■.wir to be Sir Bayaftl's wife, and niy' heart another's-i-arid I love /wtt~my darling 1 iiay darling 1' ' • _ ■[, \ ■ The dowager arose with a determined air, and grasping her cane stumped but of the roomi leaving Judith with her young lady. The countess went in search of Lady, Neville, and found her on a silken couchi with la jewelled saitsJb6ttle at Her nose. •Lady shebe{*an, abruptly, 'if that poor child should die, I shall feel alWays that We've murdered her. 1 Her ladyship uttered a little Shriek. ;; : • Oh, for mercy's *3ake,' she cri6d, ' do say such dreaaful things! lam ;s6 worried now, and have suffered bo much ' ~'Don't speak of what you've suffered,' interrupted tlie'cttunfceßS ') "think of that poof young thing that "we've brought to the brink of. the grave. What 4id,jihe suffer when we were trying to forca mtiixto a raarriage With a murderer? Think of that, Lady Neville.' fief lad yShip sobbed hyaterically. •I'msure wedidn'fck/iow—we thought—' ' Yea, did knb#, 5 cried the dowager; c w6 did know that the girl hated lii?n, and that was enough. I see my error how. If the man had really been Bayard Brompton, the wrong would have been the eatne. I soeitniSwj^ncl I've feom'e here to tell you what I'll do.' , I Lady jSTcville ceased her sobbing, arid was gracefully attentive. '■':.'"" ' There s , but one thing that will save JMtargue"^^ life. She loves Fossbrooke —she must mairy him!' pursued, the cbuht6s3.|. . •;':, -Lady Neville uttered a cry of aismayi aiid covered her face with her hands. : ; 'Hushl hear me* 6ut !'' the do^aeer, continued. .' '.Fossbrboke will be here tonight '; let him' go to Marguerifco; let her know she is at liberty'tb lbVe Hith', it will save her life. We can't >vaifc until;we find the earl,, bi^t yoii can win him over—he won't" object' when he knows her life was at stake. Consent to this; let Marguerite parry the captain, aid I will make him my heir, just as I intended to do by Sir .Bayard. Wh"at dpjou fay■■?' 'V ~'- iV. ; V Lady Neville reflected.; In the space of a 'minute her shrewd brain, always keeiily alert where its own interests were involved, took In all future possibilities. A marriage With a'captain, a man with no name or was a 'deplorable thing ; yet as the heir of the Countess, of Mortlake, it would be no difficult''matterto secure for him a peerage. -■■■ - .'■■:■ ' ••, '-' •■ ■-■■ ■'• ■ 'What do you say 2' repeated the countess, impatiently. , , , ' What can I say ?' replied her ladyship j «if the child's life's afc stake?'. - 'Why, say that you'll try to save ifc. W"eil^ welljr'tis^settled; it won't be difficult to make it rfehVwith the earl when he, comes j and he might search Elngland from end to end and nob find a better husband f6r his daughter.' , : ... ,; So it was understood that Lady Marguerito was to marry the man she lov:ed ; but, all unconscibus of this great happiness in reserve for her, the poor girl lay, suspended "as ib were between time and etermby;- The golden September affcerhooh waned; the crisp, cool twilight fell, arid Captain Fossbrooke drove up. the avenuei under the yellow gloom of the oak 'boughs. The I countess.met him on the terrace. ."' . ;'How is she,?' were his first words. •Alive,' responded the countess, with gloomy significance. ..,...: , . The capt'alh'sTiandsome face betrayed his deepembtiori. ■~, . ..■_.. ■■...■■ . :i.':■:-.~^ ■..■ , '• There is' hope t he questioned, his voice thick and''hoarse.', ~', \ . \ , ~-, > ■'There's always hope "vvliilQ life; lasts,,! .answered /'the countess ".; 'but .only one j thing can 'save Marguefite's life!' ~ | •And that?' said the other, under msj breath.'' '. .' , ' .-. ,-, ' ■ ,-, , „ j :"• She loves you—ancl if she lives she shall be your "wife. You must safe her, or lose ;Ker.':''' -- ■:';••■■■;■-■;;;■';:,.;■■_;-;; [rr./l .'I can't, lose her—l'll save her—my love shall teacher from the very grave itsblf.'. He was rushing past her1, but'the dofthtess j waved him back. .'I fNot now/ she.said, 'the doctors are with -her. Wait!' ■ i ,■>. ,;.'■■. ■■ /, '~■•■■'] ' I can do more than the doctors.' i

'No doubt; but wait. Where's, the earlJ? . , ''Heaven knows. .He has not : been in' London—they know nothing of him' at his club—nor anywhere, The last sight that

was had of him was at ..the railway station in Perch. I'm afraid he's come to hartri.'*> •So am I,' echoed the countess; 'he would have been here/before this if he jhad not cOme to harm. I'm afraid the poor man has lost his reason—he was in a fair way for it-' , ~,,'", ' Even in that case he would be heard from. I fear even worse than that. The earl has enemies. But I'll leave no stone; unturned till he is found, be the mystery of his disappearance mad 6 clear.' :

It was -midnight. The little French clock on the mantel in Marguerite's chamber iust pointed to the midnight hour. Doctor Renfrew stood beside his patient with a grave face. She lay like a marble ima^ei her face aa white and wan as moonlight, her sweet eyes sealed^ her lips parted by a faint, gasping effort to breathe; allher ffioriouß golden treeses streaming^unbound around her, her slender hands clasping and unclasping themselves in a nervous, wandering way. . \, " !' The old physician shook his headi and glanced across at Lady Neville. '. 'l'is almost over,' he whispered. Judith, standing by* wrung her hands in; agony, arid the countess sat silent, with an awed, remorseful face. - Captain Fosaebrboke arose, and approaching the head of the bed, bent over the lovely, dying face. : Strong man and brave soldier that he was, he wept in his despair like a woman. r :-;:"' ''■"■' ■;'': . . > 'My darling,' he murmured, clasping the little wandering hands in his own, and holding them to his lips, while his tears rained down on the white face, 'my precious love, can't you speak to me once more ? Only one wofd-^-say that you know me, that you love me, my beautiful little Pearl.' _ The passionate, plaintive voice, the tender kisses, and raining tears, around the failing senses of Marguerite, called her back from-the very gates of. death. Shelay entirely motionless for an instant, even her very breathing suspended; then with one painful gasp, her sealed lids fluttered open, and the sweet blue eyes looked up full of recognition of deathless devotion. 'You know me, you do know me, Pearl ? cried the captain. , ■■■;, '' I know you—and I love you.' The whispered words, faint as a dying zephyr, reaohed her lover's ear, and he clasped her to his.breast in a tranepoit of bliss. '' / . ' •'. ' ' And you aro mine —my own for ever ilndever ; there is nothing to separate us now, sweet brie, and youi shall live for riiy sake,' he cried. . : - ' For your d°ar sake,' responded the feeble lips, arid with a smile of ineffable content, she settleddown; her head against his breast, her thin, white fingers clasping his hand, as she dropped off to sleep like a babe. ' , 'She'll live!' uttered Doctor Renfrew, drawing MS hand across his eyes as he left the room; ■ >i ; -: ■;:■'"■ '':^ J:■ ; ■ ''! .

CHAPTER LXII.

tjnmAsked. The Countes3 of Mortlake sat in her chamber, on the following morning, wrapped, in her royal yelvet, when her waiting woman_ entered to say that Captaiu Fbssbrooke begged the favour of- a short inter■■•view.:. ;';* '"■:■•' , ]J' . "■■; ' •Bring him in theri,i sriapp3d the dowager, who, now that the; pressure was removed from her heart, and conscience, was fast falling back into her old imperious habits;'seridohitn in;' The womon obeyed, retiring discreetty as the captaiiventered. He advanced to. the dowager's side with a courtly bow. :'^ou perceive,' he began, with that irre* sistiblesmile of-his; 'you perceive, hay dear countess, that I am already presuming upori your great kindness. I have a afcbry to tell, arid 1 want to know if you'll have the patienceto hear it V • _ , ' I'ln. pot .fond of stories, Captain Fossbrooke,' she replied, crustily, but at the same time indicating v seat in front of her arm-chair, whiph the captain very gracefully accepted, 'and I can't seei;.what in the world you can have a story about.' ' rhaye one nevertheless, begging your ladyship's pardon,' fcbntiriued the captain, f but I'm not given to many words at any time, and 1 promise tqbe very brief. To begin, Colonel Richmond Brooke, the worthy soldier, who played the role of Sir Baronet for the last few months, has been arrested, arid: Committed to prison by an JinQictmbnt for murder—the murder of Sir Bayird Brompton. 1 ' : ... ,:■• So I was informed by Lady Neville, riot ten minutes ago—arid, let me addi the news gave mp greac satisfaction—but what has wiat to do with your story..?'■■ •More than your ladyship expects, perhaps,' replied the captain, his brown eyes twinkling. ' I happen to know that Sir Bayard Bromptbri!isa;live';'!' :" ':;'v .■■ ■' ',: ■ i'-.. The covintesß started to her feefc.

'What .do you : say?', she s cried ; 'Sir Bayard Brotriptori^ alive ? What are you talking about, Captain Fossbrooke ?'' 'About what I kribw to be so, Lady Brornpton-T^but first hear my story : 4 When your letter—-you remember it, rio doubt—in which you notified. Sir Bayard Brompton of your determination tb make him your heir, provided he should consent to marry the Earl of Strathspey's daughter —when that letter,; and the invitation to your ball, reaohed the baroriet!fl robniis, the baronet was absent, having made a trip down to Sussex. Biib his bosom friepd Colonel Richmond Brooke, who shared tlie baronet's. rooms, arid purse, and ■ .whatever else he might pbsßbis, in a very Eiampn-and Pythias-like manner—this gallant colbriel chanced to be present when the letter came, the letter bearing your ladyship's seal and coat of arms. ■■'. '- •' ' >,■' ■: 'Now it has since been revealed that Colonel Richmond Brooke was half-brother to Sir Bayard, arid, had .lorig riaeditatfed getting possession of the title and iriheritiarice \Vhich he fancied belonged to him; but Sir Bayard had no suspicion of this,; he never 'dreamed that the colonel was aught/else, than the good friend he pretenddd to be. :':. .'!'■";■■, > ■.;■;. '■;■'. ■ .-. ,;, v . 'To return to the pointy however; the letter,! bearing your ladyship's : coronet appears to hay© suggested, some opening for action to the adventurous colonel. He broke the seal, read it; saw that Sir Bayard Bromptpp v/as fated to bearichand happy man, and decided that tho hour had come when he must step into Sir Bayard's shoe's." ' Goon,'- urged .the countess, deeply interested.;, ■„■ ■'. ; :.',:, : .....•,',.',;',.',:.>..'.„ ■~,,,, •-,:,,,; ...] ; ; ., : . ■■• Accordingly,' pursued the captain, his handsome eyes still twinkling, 'the colonel's valet was at once sent down to Sussex, to intercept Sir Bayard's return. He did so in a rri'ost: effectual manner. He waylaid the; baronet .when Tie was driving | towards London, struck down his horse, i and dragged him from hia carriage. A brief struggle ensued, and the colonel's I valet drew a dagger and pluuged ithilt- ! deep into Sir Bayard's breast.' The countess shuddered, and covered her face with her hands. "'Leonard, was sure that his job was Veil done,',pursued, the captain,, '. arid.'he pro-/ ceeded to place the body of the murdered man in his own carriage, and mounting up besidei hina, hedroye tb a pile of old ruins sqmet\vo or three miles distant.; Here he diagged him but again, and carried him into" the old building,; and hurled him head fofeihosb into a vault a dozen feet below. The fall should, according to all ■reason, have broken the baronet's neck; but I dare say he; was not 'born to be murder,ed. Instead,, the shock- of the-fall-roused hitnj and sent the blood fronv his wounds, that was flowing inward, gushing out in gtfeat jets. This saved his life,; but it left hini very weak.' ■ ' For an eternity, it seemed, he lay there, on tha reeking flagstones, in ufcier dark-

ness, * and-suffering indescribable 'tortures; If Sir Bayard ever was a bad riian— —' *■ He never was a bad man,' interrupted the countess; a better fellow never lived.' The captain smiled, and went on : • 'I was going to say, if he had any sins upon his soul, he repented qf them in those endless hours of darkness and torture wheji, bereft of all hope, he facbd death iri all its horror, But contrary to all expectations, help and came. At last the sound oi' footsteps and the murmur of human voices broke the grave-like silence, and the light of a lantern streamed in upon the darkness. • ■:-: ■, ■-; i; .' ': .

'The baronet lifted up all the voice he could command, arid cried for help. It j came, in the form of a band of counter- j feiters, who carried on their" unlawful prbceedings in an adjoining vault. They eurv rounded him, grutf, dark-faded men, stained with crime, yeb not without sorrie human i good. They diessed his wounds, gave him nourishment; in short, gob hipa ori his fefei again, and asked no remuneration but hiai pronli»e not to betray therii» You may be sure he gave them that.' , ••• And6ir Bayard V gasped the' countess. j 'Returned to London, and found that his place was filled, Kis nanie, his title, even his old garments, had all been- appropriated by the man who was-his bosom friend;' .'Where is he how ?'.• cried the countess.

'Hedetermined to reiriainincognito:fpr' a time, and see how matters went y^ and, my dear countess,' he continued, his brown eyesi fairly dancings isl it possible fchiafc ybu do not suspect? Is there no look of my ancestors in my face to tell you who I am:?'' , r :;. •;'•■■;■ '■■; -■■:'::r ■ • '■■'.'; ,

The countess arose a- stifled cry, staring wildly over her goggles.; The captain put up his liand. at the same moment and removed his wig' of black, curling hair, and stood before her in all his stalwart, Saxon beauty, a Brompton froiri the' crown of his blonde head to the sole of his aristocratic foot.

The old lady stared for aiull minute in utter amazement, then she sat down and folded her hands' meekly.".-''. - ]■: ■ •Well, well,' she uttered, '* what a stupid old woman I must be t •

The captain broke into a laugh, and the j sound 6red her temper. I 'How dared you deceive me so?' she cried; 'why didn't you make yourself known to me, and spare all this trouble?' . 'I beg your pardon, my honoured kinswoman,' explained the young ; man.: * I.j should haveYJone so, but nbb long after my recoveryj I went to the ball at Lisiewpod, curious'to'meet the man who had the daring audacity to personate myself.: I got up this little disguise for the occasion, fully intending to riiake myself known^ in a few days. Bub that evening I met Lady Marguerite. Well, it was a case of love at first sight. I might have resigned my name and inheritance, bub never her. On the instant I .conceived the madcap design of trying my power to win her under iriy, assumed name and character. You know j how far I, have succeeded! She thought j me worthy of her love, and your ladyship honoured me: with—^-' ' •Oh, fiddlesticks I' ejaculated the count- ] ess; ' don't presume on my preference—l'll j never forgive you—l won't!' j But she ended by throwing her arms; about the great fellow's neck, apd sobbing I like a girl. And the baronet declared him-1 self the happiest and proudest man in England. ? ;--v--'::' • i | *43ut' not a word: of this,' cried the dowager, gleefully, when she had dried her. eyes; * clasp-on your black wig again, poor Marguerite's too weak to bear surprises now, and I want tb keep my Lady Neville in tho gall of bitterness a while longer. A cajptain's too vulgar for her fine ladyship ! ■Won't she stare when she bears the story 1' The captain' readjusted his black locks. • But there is one matter that musb;bb "aptende'(i-'tb,''';]|i6.:BaJd^vi^ayelyi-f.the..--xiian; who calls himself Colonel Brooke: has been I arrested.' ... : ,v-'-: '' ~,;: '> .',;^,: : -:;;;;•'■. ■-•.:,,j 'Let him be tried for hie crimes,': replied, the countess. 'No,' responded the baronet, 'he is my[ half-brother, according to his own; state-! merit, and I can afford to forgive him now. Let him go free—and,' he added a little] hesitatingly, * I haven't much in my bwa right to give, but, I shall do what I can. Poor fellow, it does seem uoju'at that I ;! should have all, and he nbthine. I must give him enough to get out oi England vvithjat anyrate.* : . : The• courites gave venb to -her dry;J peculiar laugh. : •Pm sure of, your identity now,' Bho Remarked ; 'no one but a Brompbon would ever dream of rewarding the man who tried to murder him. But have it your own way. Hand me that writing-case, will you ?' ' The barbriet, obeyed, ,arid she proceeded to write her cheque for a considerable amount. .;,, ■ .-' • > , ■ ~,; _' That will coritenb; you,' She said, and Sir Bayard, bowing profoundly, withdrew., (2'o bt cohtniued onSvtut'dtiy.): I