Orion, The Gold Beater; OR, True Hearts and False.

Auckland Star, Volume XX, Issue 194, 16 August 1889, Page 3

Orion, The Gold Beater; OR, True Hearts and False.

A TALE OF NEW YORK LIFE.

By SYLVANUS COBB, Junk.,

Author of the "Gunmaker of Moscow," "The Storm Secret," Etc., Etc.

CHAPTER XXXVI. REUNION.—THE STRICKEN. Mrs Lindelii eafc in her comfortable parlour, and with her were Ellen Durand, Constance Milmer and little Lizzie. They were very happy, though their joy was calm and subdued. Constance had been telling over again some of those fearful scenes through which she had passed, and was jnsfc speaking of Orion's nobleness of heart for the hundredth time, when one of the stages stopped at the gate, and in a moment more a middle-aged or elderly man and an old woman got out. As tuey started up the walk towards the house Sirs Lindell arose and went to tho door to meet them. They were Frank Bertram and Aunt Rhoda. 'Is this Mrs Lindell's house ?'asked the former, as they reached the door-stone. j 'it is—and that is :ny name, , returned , the mistress. ' Won't you walk in ?' • Yes, ma'am,' said Bertram. 'Mr Tiverton scut us up here. Wo wanted to see your son. But we'll tell you all.about it when we get set down.' Mrs Lindell conducted them at onco to the parlour, and offered them seats. Constance and Ellen arose and bowed very politely, and the former was about to resume her seat when something in the face and form of the old woman arrested her attention. Constance was eight years of age when she was left by Aunt llhoda; and from eight to bwenyseven U quite a,change. But Aunt Rhoda was sixty when she went away ; and from sixty to eighty-three had not been so much of a change but the eye of Constance caught familiar features. The young widow moved forward, and tremblingly °lakl her hand upon the old woman's shoulder. ' Pardon me, she whispered, much agitated ; • but tell me if I am deceived. Is not this Rhoda Church ?' ' That is my name,' the aged female answered, gazing sharply into her interlocutor's face. ! 1 And don't you know me, grandmother ?' Don't you remember your little Constance V 'What!' screamed the old lady, fairly leaping from the floor, and then grasping Constance by both shoulders. 'You my little Constance ? You are ! You are ! Olio—l know ye now 1 Constance—my own darling ! —ob, I know ye now J' 'And we meet onco more here on earth !' murmured the j'oung widow, while the warm tears stroamed down her cheeks. ' Meet, you said V cried Aunt Khoda, absolutely dancing up and down like a pleased child. ' What once more ? H;i, ha, ha — and somebody eJse meets, too. Aye—somebody else meets, too. Frank Bertram, come here. Come here, I tell ye ! It's yer own child!—your own flesh and blood—yer own darling — yer own little Constance ! Olio, here's your father, my love!' Constance turned, and sho saw a noblefaced man—a man in the prime of life, upon whose brow wore lines ot care, and upon whoso head was premature frout. His arms were half-opened, leaving a broad, full, manly breast exposed, while down his browned cheeks big tears were rolling. In an instant all tho mighty love of her heart wentforth tothatmanand hadsheknownhim for long years her affection could not have been more firmly set upon him. ' Constance —my child !' So spoke tho wanderer, and tho word that came back in reply was the sweetest word that ever dropped its fragrance upon his soul: ' Father!' And while ihose two remained for some moments clasped in each other's embrace, Aunt Rhoda set at defiance all the laws .of old age and decrepitude by dancing about br.e room in a manner that was wondrous to behold. '\\ hv—- they told us you was in the power of a wicked man,' said the old woman, after Constance and her father had resumed their seats. ' So 1 was,' answered the happy daughter, wiping the streamingtears from her cheeks; 1 bun Mr Lindell stt me free. , ' Sir Lindell ?' tittered Aunt Rhoda, with some surprise. ' Why, if what Air Tiverton tells us is true the young man must have a sovt of—what is it ye calls this stuff that draws needles, and nails, and such things?' ' Magnetism,' suggested Ellen. ' Yes—that is it. I should think he'd got a magne-ii'c attraction cowards ye. , 'It would seem so, , returned Constance. ' But,' she added with a devout look and tone, ' I think God haa been very kind.' ' 'So He ha?, , murmured Bertram warmly. After this there was a long pause. Constance trembled violently, for a question had arisen to her lips which came from a fearful source—fearful to her, and she felt, fearful to others. She turned to Aunt Rhoda, and in a convulsive whisper, she asked :

' My mother ! —have you seen her ?' ' Not this time, Constance. Bnfc I saw her before. Think of her no more. Try to feel that she is dead. .

' Aye,' murmured Bentram. f.Try ,to think she died when you were a babe, my child.'

'Her mother!' uttered Ellen, starting forward -just as Bertram had clasped little Lizzie to his bosom, and placing her hand upon the old woman's shoulder. ' Toll me ! oh, tell me!'

1 .Don't you guess ?' ' Yes—but I dare not speak it!' . ' Then you are right;. The woman whom Paul Tiverton married, supposing her to be a maiden, was then the mother of a living child. But .mind you—she thought her first huaband dead.'

1 JEfis wife I' murmured Mrs Lindell, pale and trembling. 'Mis wife the mother of Constance, and a wife already when he married her!'

' Yes,' answered Ehoda. The hostess clasped her hand over ber heart and started to her feet. She was pale as death, and trembled violently ; and without another word she tottered from the room.

At this juncture Auntßhodaremembered the .note sbe had from the merchant for Ellen, and taking it from her pocket she handed it to her. The fair girl broke the seal, and recognised the handwriting of her guardian, bub it was a tremulous, nervous scrawl for his pen, and she thought she saw tear-marks upon the paper. Ifc read as follows :

My Own Deab Ellen :—When you get this come to me at once. lam alone—all alone ! Oh! if you love me. come. Come as soon as you can. From thy smile, at least, the joy is not gone. Come and let me see it. Yon will come, I know you will. Tiverton.

Ellen read this over the second time, and tears started from her eyes as she folded it up. A dim glimmering of the truth broke in upon her. She arose and left the room. She found Mrs Lindoll in the kitchen, weeping. • What is it ?' she asked, throwing her arms about the widow's neck, ' Why do yon weep ?' ' You must not ask me. Leb ib pass, If

you love me,' strive to forgeb fchab you found me thus. , ■ . ■ •

'I will, my dear friend—l will. I will not be gone long—ab least without coming to see you. , ' Where are you going V 'To Mr Tiverton. He has sent for me. He is unhappy, I know. .Oh ! he is a noble man !—one of the best —one of the most pure and generous-hearted men that ever lived on earth. I must go at o'nee; but you shall hear from me.' 'Very well, Ellen. / Go-and may the blessing and care of God go with you 1'

'Thank you,' murmured the fair-girl, once more winding her arms about the woman's neck, and kissing her. .. 'And tho3o old people,' she added, after she had wiped away her tears—' they will remaiu tiU Orion comes ?' ' Certainly—and as much longer as they please, X shall love them.' After this Ellen- prepared for her departure as soon as possible, and having , bade her hostess to inform Orion where she had gone, and also promised tho others that she should soon see them again, she kissed Constance and little Lizzie, and then left the house, and took the iirsfc stage that came along. When she reached her guardian's house she rangr the beli, and Sarah Johnson answered the summon?. 'Oh— my deal , , good, kind lady,' cried Sarah, ' I'm so glad to see you.' ,'ls Mr Tiverton in?' the young lady asked, not a little puzzled to account fcr this sudden change in Sarah's manner—for my lady's maid had always followed in the wak'6 of her mistress, and treated the fair ward' rather coolly. 'He is, my dear, good lady.- I'll go and call him at once.' ' No—tell mo where he is. 1 The girl hesitated a moment, for she evidently had a desire to witness the meeting between'her master and Ellen. But-she soon concluded that if she would have the least hope of retaining her place she must nrw obey readily the one who might possibly take tho head of the establishment. So she informed the caller thai; the merchant; was in the library. Ellen waited to hear no more, but proceeding at onco to the door of the library, she gave a light rap. ' VV'ho is it ?' said a voice from within. Surely that could not be Paul Tiverton's voice ! At least, so thought Ellen. She had not seen him since his return from the country, and she hesitated ere she could possibly convince herself that it was his voice she had heard. However, she placed her hand upon the knob : but she found the door fast. * Who is it ?' repeated the voice. It could not be Paul Tiverton's voice. ' I wish to see —' But Ellen was not permitted to finish the sentence, for at the first sound of her voice the inmate sprang to the door aud threw it open. ' Sllen ! Ellen ! Oh, my own sweet Nelly !—you have come to see mo!' He caught her in his arms as he spoke, and pressed her to his bosom. She felt warm tears dropping upon her shoulder, and when she gazed up ehe found him weeping. ' JVly dear, dear, generous guardian,' she cried, ' what has happened V ' Sit down —sit dovrn, Ellen,' he said, resuming his own seat, and wiping tho tears from his face. ' Did j'ou learn nothing from either of those people who came up there ?.' ' Yes—l did.' ' And how much ?' I That Mr Bertram was Aunt Julia's first —' ' Call her aunt no more, Ellen !' ' Well, sir—l learned that he was her fjrst husband,,and that Constance Milmer wits her own child.' • Aye—so much you have learned—but no more V 'No more, my guardian.' * And did you know that poor Constance had again been taken by tho villain who ha 3so long persecuted her 5' ' Yes, sir—l knew that she was taken. But she has been rescued.' ' Rescued ? Do you know it V I 1 do. I left her at Mrs Lindell's when I came away. , j 'Oh, thanllGod for that,' devoutly ejaculated the merchant. 'At Mrs Lindell's, you say V ' Yes, sir. , • And how was ehe saved ?' ; 'Orion did ib.' ' Orion ? By the power of truth, but he is one of nature's kings. But how did he do it ? Ellen related all the circumstances as she had heard them from both Orion and Constance. She told the plot of Jasper Thornton—how he had sent Peggy Warling to entice Orion to seeming shame, and how it had all turned out for real good.

' So Mi- Thornton begins to be jealous, does he ? But he'll soon run his race. And now tell me one more thing, Ellen. Do you know how the poor widow was thrown into that man's power ?' 'If yon would know, I can tell you, sir.' ' I would know, Ellen.' ' Then I must tell you a tale, of wrong in which Mrs Tiverton acted a leading parti' 'Go on,' said the merchant, with a shudder. So the fair girl went on and related all the circumstances attending Mra MilmerV being enticed into the villain's power. Mr Tiverton pondered awhile in silence, and then gazed once more into his companion's face. ' There's one more thing; I would know,' he said. ' I would know why, and how, you left this house V > And thereupon Ellen told the story of Orion's repulsion from the house, and her own interviews with the lady. ~ ' Alas ! and is it possible that she has been so cruel ?' the unhappy man groaned, with hia bands clasped. ' I knew she was cruel to me, bub 1 dreamed nob that she was so hard-hearted. Oh ! I could bearbut I have something more to tell you. Here, : read this. It was. found upon her dressing-case this morning.'

A.s themerchanb spoke he took the note from his pocket—the note which Isabella had given him—and having clutched it in his hand a moment as though fearful of letting it go, he handed it to Ellen. She took it and read it—she read it oncethen wept—and then read it again; and when she had road it the second time she handed it back to her guardian. He gazed into her face, bub did not speak. The silence was becoming painful when Ellen spoke: 'My dear guardian ' —and she arose , and threw her arms about his neck—' yon must not weep any more.' • Oh, Ellen,—l could bear the grief—l Could bear it and be content; but oh, tiie shame, — the shame, Ellen, which must cling to her name, and overshadow me its darkness.'' ' No, no, my good guardian. Those who know you—who know you well—those who are your friends —must know the character of bhe faithless woman ; and as sure as Corl rules over us you will havo their sympathy and esteem. Those who will feel differently are such as you need not care for. Will you nob think of it in this light ?' 4 Bless you, Nelly ! bless you ! cried the stricken man, earnestly. ' I knew you would give me comfort. Oh, it was—it is— a dark path for me!' ' I know it must be, guardian ; but still remember that the sensible and truthful will honour you as ever, and as you bear yourself before the world bo will its people judge you. Show them a firm, stern front, and they will bow before you. Let them see that you are stricken and crushed, and they will laugh and jeer.' 'I know you speak the truth, my darling.' «I think I do, guardian. But tell me— Who is thia Prince f * A needy adventurer who has by eoine means discovered that my wife; *ad

gome money of her own, and who has contrived to put himself in a way to obtain it. I am sure it is so. , 'And Isabella—where is she?' • Gone ! She was married last night to that miserable swindler who has been so long palming himself off for a Count! Her mother was present at the ceremony, and after ib wa3 concluded rode away with her Prince! Isabella came here this forenoon with her husband. He had the face to ask {'or his marriage portion ; but I assured him that he should never have one penny of mine." Oh, ib was a hard blo.w ! Hard— hard—very hard ! I wanted to keep my child —I wished to save her—l wished to give her money ; but; too well I knew that every shilling given to her would only go to the pocket of the swindler, and I would nob do it. I-knew that she needed a lesson ; and she will surely receive it—stern and harsh. I told her that my door should ever be open j.. 0 her—that my heart should be always hers, and ever ready to embrace her with its love. It was hard to see her go,' but I could not help it! She will coma back, I feel sure of it;'

' I think she will,' returned Ellen.

■ 'And now, Ellen, darling, you will nob leave me. You will,stay with me awhile. Let Orion come when he can. Let him coma every evening. Say that you will not leave me. Oh ! I should be very miserable all alone.'

' I will stop, guardian.' Thesfcout man pressed the fair girl once more to his bosom, and while the tears streamed down his cheeks anew he blessed her over and over again.

(To be Continued.)