DUNLEATH ABBEY; OR, The Fatal Inheritance.

Auckland Star, Volume XXI, Issue 104, 3 May 1890, Page 6

DUNLEATH ABBEY; OR, The Fatal Inheritance.

BY HANSON PENN DILTZ, Author of • The Duchess Undine,' Etc.

CHAPTER V. THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGEE. Httrstmoyne was a Bmall, picturesque village upon the Brighton and Lewes railroad, and at tho time of the famona Dunleath diamond robbery was the nearest station to the Abbey, which could be reached by a short drive through the beautiful forest and flowering meadows stretching southward to the shores of the English Channel. ■ It was late in the afternoon of Lord Warnock's bridal day, and ever since morning exaggerated reports of the daring and nrysterioua robbery of the past night had been circulating in the streets, uhough there were but few among the villagers, the earl's tenants, who gave credence to the rumours afloat. They were too unheard-of. • Nevertheless they v/ere the theme of all conversation —at Hurstmoyne as well as at the Abbey, and in the doorway of the 'White Swan,' the only inn the place could boast of, the landlady in person stood, in dispute with several neighbours, who had dropped in for a friendly chat. While they were still in the midsb of their lively discussion the six o'clock passenger train from Brighton came steaming into the station, ■which was not far from the inn, and as several couples, "whose elegance indicated their rank in society, descended from the cars to tho platform, Mrs Grant, the landlady, cried: • See ! the grandees bound to the wedding at the Abbey this evening. Didn't I tell you so? , she went on. triumphantly, as a string of carriages, bearing on their papels the Dunleath arms, came dashing into sight, and were drawn up in a line along the pavement running from the depot to the town. ' ' What beautiful ladies !' sighed a widow in bhe little crowd at the inn door, as she ■watched the travellers disappear into the carriages, which then drove off at a rapid pace and-were soon lost to sight. • What a happy life ' 'Tut, tut, my dear, there may be heavier hearts beneath their lace and diamonds than under our linen,' answered , Mrs Grant, sharply. ' But there is a » gentleman left,' she added abruptly, glancing toward the depot platform on which one solitary figure was still to be seen. • _et it may be only some transient visitor for the *'Swan"—but no, there is some one with him —his valet, no doubt.' ■ Even while she was speaking, the gentleman in question might have been seen advancing along the pavement in the direction of the door at which the coterie of gossips was stationed. As he drew nearer he paused and looked aboub him, seemingly unconscious of the admiring eyes bent upon him. What they saw was the figure of a tall, magnificently formed man, with features regular and handsome, the mouth well-shaped, the eyes dark, •while his moustache and peaked beard, a rich brown like his hair, were heavily streaked with grey. He was clad in a suit of linen, which was soiled and travelstained, and a soft felt hat shaded his face, which wore an anxious, troubled expression, as he now gazed about him. • The years that have passed since last I looked upon these scenes, and how little they are changed !' he sighed, and the gloom upon: his countenance deepened. • Oh, God, what I have suffered since I I left my native shores, a light-hearted boy, with him who was my Judas. Ah, ■well, he has long slept in his grave, having lived but a little while to enjoy the fruits of his treachery. And I—l have go_b through all that a human . being can and not go mad! Ah, God, how familiar it all seems after my long, cruel exile!' Murmuring thus, he had advanced until he now stood face to face ■with Mrs Grant and her companions. • This, I believe, is ;the village inn ?' he said, bowing with the air of a king. 1 Yes, sir; and I am the landlady,' Dromptly responded Mrs Grant, regarding him with a puzzled expression as she curtsied. • And you are a relative of the 'lam a stranger, who desiree the best accommodations your house affords,' he replied, quickly, turning pale. *My man •will follow ue with my baggage,' he continued, entering the, hall. 'So I shall be glad to be shown to my room at once. , «Certainly, sir, if you will step this way,' smiled Mrs Grant, mounting the stairs, followed by her guest, about whom there was an air of mystery that both interested and puzzled her. ' Who can he be? Surely he resembles the Warnocka,' she assured herself, with growing wonderment, as she watched the-tall soldatesque figure enter the doorway of the chamber allotted to him. ' Thank Heaven that ordeal is over !' he

Cried, when the door had closed behind him, *-- 'and he was alone. *My presence.in England is a secret, except to a few, and I desire ib to remain so a little while , longer. Yet ' who could guess my identity, when they believe me in the grave ?—who, but that villain up yonder at Dunleath, reigning all these years in the hall of my fathers V He stood lost in painful recollections of the past, until his servant entered, bearing a leather " portmanteau, his only piece of baggage. 'The first thing I wish you to do, Djalma, is to order my supper, , he said. 'Then, go out and gather any news that you can without attracting attention. Be careful of that, for he may have his spies abroad.' 'Very well, my lord;' replied the man, a tall, heavily-built Englishman, some forty years of age, who bore in his dark features traces of Indian blood. 'No more of that now, Djalma,' cried his master, starting. •Remember, lam only Colonel Chandos at present.' • Excuse me, I forgot myself, and ib came so natural, seeing you here,' responded the Anglo-Indian; and he went below to order bis master's supper. He found their landlady in a pleasant state of excitement over the presence of her distinguished guest. 'I will see to his supper myself,' she said ; 'and I suppose he will want it in time to go to the Abbey this evening. Oh, I knew the moment I looked into your master's face that he was some relation to the earl,' she continued.by •way of explanation, observing, the surprise •with which the valeto had listened to her previous remark.. ' And since you are going to Dunleath, you will likely want our old chaise, which is about the only vehicle for hire in the place. Well, it will be ready.' 1 Without either accepting or declining 1 the kind effer r Djalma passed on out into the street, and leisurely down it. Thirty ■;.' minutes later he might have been seen retracing his steps, flushed and heated, and trembling with excitement. In the meantime Mrs Grant had again as- . , cended to her guest's apartment, followed by a maid bearing-a waiter of most savory--smelling supper. She had just arranged this upon the lamp-lit table spread to re- / ceive it, and was,in the act of retiring, ■.-whenthey were suddenly stalled by the abrupt entrance of the Anglo-Indian: valet, who came rushing in like one demented. * "My lord, my lord, 1 must speak to you privately at once,' he for.ward; unconscious of the presence of their _ horrified landlady, if Jt may even now be too late '

.* Mrs Grant, will you please retire, and also forget the title by which you have heard my valet address me? , inquired Colonel Chandoa, turning pale, as he arose. Then, when he and the Anglo-Indian were left alone, he angrily demanded: 'How often have I warned you against such indiscretion as this, Djalma ? It will be my undoing. Did I nob tell you I had assumed a name not my own as a matter of policy, as well as for my safety ? The man who calls himself Earl of Dunleath has long err this received my letter, and if he is in the least like his villainous father, he would not hesitate to set his spies upon me and put me out of his way. So you must see my life would be in danger if my disguise should be penetrated ' •You musb forgive me this once more, my master,' murmured the offender. • There is nothing that I would not forgive you, Djalma, my good fellow,' answered Chandos, more gently. ' And now it can make but little difference, any way, we are so near the end of the chase. So go on with what you were saying, as it may be something that I should know.'

' I am sure that it is—it is the most astounding thing 1 ever heard of, , continued the valet. ' But let me tell you first, by begging your pardon, that you have made a very serious mistake. You came down here—did you not—under the impression that the —the earl was to be married to his cousin, Miss Langstroth, to-morrow evening V 'Certainly I did, but—what do you mean ?' cried Chandos, his face ghastly pale. 'My God ! surely I am nob too late to save her from the horror of a union with him !' ' I hope not, but it may be,' replied Djalma, hurriedly. ' The marriage comes off this evening, and the young couple leave for the Continent in the morning.' ' Great heavens ! is that true ? What time is it, Djahna ?' asked his master, starting ap. 'We must reach the Abbey in time to stop the ceremony and save that unsuspecting woman from such a fate as would be hers as—as the wife of that young scoundrel. ,

' But listen, my lord ; the most wonderful part of my story is yeb to come,' continued the valec. 'Only last night the famous Dunleath diamonds were stolen —'

' Stolen, you say ?' almost shrieked Chandos, arid the lighb that shone on his face revealed its pallor. ' Great heavens ! the son is as vile as the father ! He is the thief, but he shall be unmasked--ay, and that, too, before the very people he would dupe!' Muttering thus, he walked rapidly to and fro, chafing like a caged lion ; then, abruptly confronting Djalma, he said: 'It is only three miles from here to Dunleath, and if you can get a horse we will be able to make it ere the hour appointed for the ceremony. I tell you, I musb reach there in time to stop that marriage !' ' I will go at once and have the old chaise hooked up,' replied the valet, retiring. ' I will be ready, sir, by the time you are. > So you can come on down.' 'How wily and like his father he has been, this thief and son of a thief, who calls himself a gentleman,' murmured Chandos, when left alone, and opening a package of papers that he had taken from his portmanteau, he placed part of them in his breast pocket. 'From the very hour in which he received my letter this fellow's scheme has been to obtain possession of these diamonds, the most valuable and ancient of all the Dunleath heirlooms, to hold as a pledge of lenient treatment on our part. And he thinks that, with Stella Langstroth his wife, we will, for her sake, spare him — the coward ! to shelter himself behind a woman ! Well, I guess I have all the documents I shall want tonight. It is well that there are duplicates of them in the hands of my London lawyers, for I am venturing into a hostile camp, and almost putting myself in the power of an unscrupulous enemy, whose dearest interest would he advanced by my death. Yet everyone speaks well of the present Earl of Dunleath—of course they do—he is rich ! And now I am ready, and I pray Heaven I may be in time.'

Regardless of the comments he knew his singular conduct would call forth, Colonel|Chandoshurrieddownstairs,leaving his supper untouched, and sprang into the vehicle that stood ready ab the door. His servant followed him, gathered up the lines, and a moment later they were rattling over the stony street. It was dark by now, but the moon had risen and was flooding with its mellow light the romantic defiles through which they had to pass when they had left Hurstmoyne behind them.

' Oh, God, how familiar it all seeina,' sighed Chandos, as they drove rapidly on over the forest road, that was bringing him nearer and nearer to his destination. It was so familiar, although he had nob traversed it since when a boy; and there was something so sweet and dreary in the night, that touched his home-sick soul with a sadness, a longing that was full of pain. 'God forgive me if I am too late to stop this cruel marriage !' he suddenly cried, remembering the self - imposed task he had taken upon himself, of saving a woman he had never seen from the hands of a designing villain. Just then his words were rudely cut short in a most unexpected manner, and at a glance he knew that they had met with an accident that would render it utterly impossible for him to go on to the Abbey that nighfc, unless he did so on foot. In crossing a rivulet ab a poinb where the shadows lay dark and deep, a spring in the body of the chaise" suddenly broke, caused by a wheel striking against a rock; and had not the colonel, with wonderful presence of mind, reined in the horse, they would have been thrown out in bhe water or obherwise injured. • Merciful heavens, what terrible luck !' he cried, springing from the chaise, and his voice was full of despair. ' There is an evil fate pursuing us, and yet I will save that girl if possible. I will go on footthere is nothing else left for me. You will have to fasten the horae to a tree ere you follow me, Djalma.' • You have two miles yet to go, sir, and it seems to me you will be too late to stop the ceremony, for it is now almost nine o'clock,' replied Djalma. 'Hease wait for me, I shall be ready to accompany you in a moment. These forests are awful dark and lonely, and Victor Warnock may have his. emissaries hidden some place in them to murder you, knowing you will have to pass through them to reach the Abbey. Pity you did not keep Brown along with you.' ' Well, I am armed to the teeth, as it is, and will sell my life dearly,' responded Chandos. 'Sα let us push ahead. Whatever fate may have in store for me, I will bravely meet it. «Bub I cannot believe that the hand that has shielded and brought me thus far will leb me perish through an assassin's steel.'

Djalma made no answer, as they silently pressed on, the moonlight streaming on them through the dense foliage overhead; but they had gone only a short distance and Had: just entered a lonesome defile, suggestive of crime, when they were suddenly startled by the sharp report of a rifle shot, fired near them, evidently at Chandos, since the ball grazed his throat, drawing blood. Naturally brave and fearless, it was an instinct with the colonel to face rather than flee from danger, and. as he drew from his breast the pistol he had placed there ere leaving his room at the inn, he turned in the direction whence the firing: came. •Oh, my lord, save yourself, and leave me to deal with these murderers,—see, they outnumber us,'.whispered Djalma, imploringly, springing forward and shielding his mastoer with hie own body. 'Oh, for the love of Heaven, go ! ' But it was too late, for shots were being poured upon them by their assailants; and.

even as the faithful valet spoke, and ere Chandos could discharge his own weapon, they were surrounded by the murderous crew, who covered them with their rifles, and whose eyes shone cruelly through the crape masks they wore. ( To be Continued.)