DUNLEATH ABBEY; OR, The Fatal Inheritance.

Auckland Star, Volume XXI, Issue 174, 25 July 1890, Page 3

DUNLEATH ABBEY; OR, The Fatal Inheritance.

BY SANSON PENN DILTZ, Author of' The Duchess Undine, , Etc. CHAPTER LXII. CLOSING SCENES. It waa on the day following the funeral that one of the eistera of the Sacre Cceur sought an interview with Lord Waraock, and placed in his hands a sealed packet, soiled and worn yellow with age. Id was directed to him in the familiar handwriting of the dead, and had been found sowed in the bosom of her gown when prepared for burial. Wondering what it could be, Victor opened it with nervous lingers when alone, and to his surprise found a full confession, written years before. Most of it referred to matters that were known to him, but his face burnt with mingled feelings of indignation and grief when he reached that portion of it that told of his early and secret engagement to Stella. . Briefly the penitent writer outlined the facts relative to that unhappy affair, and her own dishonourable part in it —how she had worked upon the feelings of the supposed earl, to induce him to bind the young cousins in an engagement that neither would dare break— how, when he was past speaking, she had represented him as having uttered the words he never spake — and how, w;hen he was dead, she had forged the letter that Victor had dared nob disobey. In conclusion she appealed to his generosity to pardon her the wrong done him through her ambition for her child. ' God pity me; my sins have almost found me out,' she wrote at the close of her confession. ' I shall see your lordship on the morrow, to tell you the secret of the diamond theft, and I will give you this at the same time if I can summon up the courage. , ' Poor soul, I do forgive you, though you bo nearly ruined my life,' Bighed Victor, and, with the generosity of a noble spirit, he laid the confession upon the fire. ' Nob to my Hazel even will I tell you the story of this poor, tempted creature's crime. She is gone— requiescat in pace.' Owing to the near tie between their protegee and the dead, Rubie was put in mourning for a year. Her education was carefully attended to in the meantime, and when at eighteen she made her debut in society, she created the greatest sensation of the season. Lovely and accomplished, and an heiress in her own right, she was eagerly sought in marriage ; coronets were laid ab her feet, bub her affections were already engaged, her young life given away. When presented ab the Queen's drawingroom, even Victoria Regina was attracted by the pare and lovely face that so many had tried in vain to forget* and spoke some kindly words to the young debutante, who, though dazzlingly beautiful in her court dress of white satin and lace, glittering with jewels, had yet about her that charm of sinless childhood before which all others pale. In the meantime, while events of such import were transpiring in the life of the little Lady of Langs troth, where was he, the Abbey's heir, to whom her virgin heard had been given? When too far' advanced tat be longer taughb ab home, Victor had been aentj to Ebon, where he stood at the head of his classes, and was popular and beloved by all. In person he was the living image of his father, handsome and manly ; and had been the beau ideal of Rubies tender heart. But she had guarded closer than her life the secret of the love that was her doom. Seeing the sensational notices of her in the 'Courb Journal, , and hearing praises of her beauty* on every side, he abruptly left Ebon and hastened to London, his heart aflame with the love that was devouring it, and maddened by the thought that some rival might tear his idol from him and rob life of all thab made it dear. Hushing in upon them ab Ghesley Place, pale and excited, he sought his mother, the confidante of all his joys and woes, and in tremulous accents told her th.c tale of his ' love's young dream. , • Ib would kill me, mamma, to be robbed of her,' he cried, his handsome face so like, so like his father's in fihe days agone. ' She is mine, my Rubie, soul of my soul. Where is she?' ' Just then the object of his thoughts, having heard of his arrival, entered the room to welcome him ; bub at sight of his pallid brow and troubled face, she became alarnasd,' and criod : ' Oh, Victor, what is the matter ? Are you ill, my ' Sobbing, she broke down, and in his arms listened bo the tale, the same old, old story, he had to tell. . And wibh her head on his breasb she murmured the reply thab filled bis soul with rapture. Several days later the engagement was announced to the world, bub t{ie marriage waa nob to take place until Victor should graduate. He stands at the head of his classes, and his ability and eloquence have lod grave men bo declare thab he will one day bs a leader in English politics. And the young Prince Ivor Serriatine? Hβ became so attached to the land of his adoption, that he only visited Russia when commanded by his Czai , to appear ab the C6urt of St. Petersburg, a mandate he would no more have disobeyed than would the poorest serf upon his vaet domains in the Crimea. Fiaally, through the same potent influence, he took up his abode in the magnificent) but gloomy halls of his ancestors, there to receive his education. He was an honoured and welcome gueab ab the Winter Palace of his sovereign, but his affections clung to England, and it was an English maiden he weded in his twenty-second\ year and carried to his ice-bound estates in that bleak north/ where her presence has created an Eden 3 in which, lovely young faces are blooming like flowers around them. . The Indian Prince, Nador, remained at the Abbey, whore he was looked upon as one of the family, until the d,eath' of Lord Cecil, after which* despite the entreaties of Victor and Hazel, he travelled. Later, he was summoned to Calcutta, where he had fallen heir to a large fortune, being the only son of a Hindoo king, who had been slain by the English. Thus did he become a' Nabob, and as the grandchildren of his dead friend grew tip around him he found his greatest enjoyment in dowering them with riches. He spend a year in Russia, and the second son of Prince Ivor Serriatine, born during his sojourn, wears his name and tells of his handsome estates on the Ganges, the gift of his Indian godfather. > As the years ripened and were gathered, with all their eventful changes, into the past, other children were added to the happy family ab Dunleath—a little Hazel, who grew the living image of her mother and Cecil, named for the grandfabhei who had lain twelve months beneatl the shining marble Blab of the Saxo« chapel ere the advent of hie namesake, Ana as they gathered round the nursterj hearth, on wintry nights, when thi wind moaned like lost souls, old Ranni< and Sarah Greenleaf, who had cabini on the estate, delighted to tell these littli

onefl wondrous stories of the past, of which they never wearied—those stories of the children, Victor's and Rubies' fatpers, changed in their cradles oub in a heathen land-of Earl Cecil's return from exile and prison on his eon's first fatal bridal night—of their father's heart-broken wanderings in that world of the setting suit* Parted by some mysterious fatality froW his adored child-wife-and how, while sleeping, he had removed the famous family diamonds, and had, years afterward, repeated the marvellous deed, opiunvdrufreed onibobh occasions. To these and other strange tales of their sire's and grandsire's wondrous life in distent lands and climes the children ab Dunleath listened, awed into silence by thelgrave faces about them. Then, when these old servants were no> more, others would tell those quaint and marvellous stories of trials and sufferings — nobly endared—that have become legendary, and will ever be among the Abbey's best traditituiß. Years have gone by, Mike tfce current of a rushing river, since that night when Ha# knelt by the side of her sleeping husband, and knew that the last shadow of dishonour was removed from his life of • herftic sacrifice; and in that happy Home, where sorrow and shame and gloom once brooded, all ia sunshine and joy. Childish voicpa are now ringing through the ancient hallii, where in the golden summer-time all the loved ones are gathered in a happy family band—emblematic of that reunion to which hope points, in a fairer, brighter land, ' Where adieus ana farewells are a sound nn- '■■■ known.' THE END.