DOCTOR AVERILL'S SECRET.

Auckland Star, Volume XXVIII, Issue 74, 31 March 1897, Page 6

DOCTOR AVERILL'S SECRET.

BY BERTEA M. CLAY.

Author of« One Woman's Sin,'' The Bur den of a Secreb,' * Love in a Mask,' 'The Woman Between Them,' ' Lord Lynne'a Choice,' Etc., Etc., Etc.

CHAPTEF. I. DUDLEY HARCOCRT'S MISADVENTURE. _, When the London express steamed into Kilbaroie station,' Dudley Harcourt jumped down to the platform, giving venb to an exclamation of relief. He proceeded bo stretch hia long legs, and then glanced about him in wonderment. ♦ Jove !' he muttered. ' How bhe place has altered. Ten years are responsible for come remarkable changes. I should imagine thab Southcome ia on the rebrogade—in ehorb, in a kind of rapid decline, to judge from bhe sleepy appearance of its railway station. Hulloa. porter 1 Look afber my luggage, will you ?' * Luggage air ?' bho solibary official Baid, blandly. ' There isn't none for Kilburnie.' ' Kilburnie to the deuce!' cried Dudley Harcourt, as the engine gave a warning shriek, and the greab wheels began to revolve. ' Are you asleep or dreaming? Signal the brain bo sbop; my brunks are in the luggage van.' 'Too late, sir,' was the phlegmatic response. 'There isn't no luggage for Kilburnie. The next -top is Soubhcome. Mayhapa you've gob oub ab the wrong station, sir ?' The man pointed to a huge sign against the wall, enamelled white letters allowing ■up clearly on a dark blue ground, and spelling bho name of Kilburnie with a diatinetneas that waa extremely irritating to Dudley Harcourt. • I have committed this error because I was told at Euston that the third stop was Southcome.' be said angrily. * Unless signalled bo leave or take up passengers here, sir,' was bho reminder. Then bhe porter added : ' lb'a a pity, because their isn't another train for three hours, and it's fifteen miles to Southcome. Your luggage will be all right, sir.' Harcourt fretted and fumed for a few minutes. It was doubly annoying because he had telegraphed to Lord Southcome to oxpeeb him by bho five o'clock express. His lordship was an extremely punctilious old gentleman, who would regard such carelessness as bhe height of folly, and jusb now Dudley Harcourt was desirous of enjoying hia good opinion. ' Three hours !' he muttered. ' Well, I will beguile the time by having a look around thia place.' He strode through the station, his hands thrust deep into his pockets, a somewhab moody frown on his handsome face, lb was nob in hia nature to toady to any man, and yob he was conscious of feeling very much akin to ib when he thought of Lord Southcome. Excepting a recent interview of a few minutes' duration, he had not Bean or heard of bis lordship for many years, and the memory was nob a pleasant one. ' You are my sister's son,' he had said, ' and for bhis reason I am educabing you, Dudley Harcourb. I shall send you bo Oxford for two years, and when you aro ready for bhe world my lawyers will send yon tbe sum of five hundred pounds. I then wash my hands of you ; 1 beg of you nob to aspire to the title of Lord Southcome, as it may militate againsb your future career. Your cousin ia a robuab man, and I may marry.' Wibh these words be had dismissed the youth, who, but for the wishes of his mother, would have declined further favours at the hands of one whom he believed to be cold-blooded and vindictive. But my lord had not married, and the robuab cousin had died abroad. Dudley Harcourt waß now heir to the title, if not to Lord Southcome's wealth, and it was in obedience to his lordship's wishes thab he relinquished tbe nob very onerous duties of a well-nigh briefless barrister, and prepared to visit Southcome Park. The letter which Harcourt bad received a few days earlier ran aa follows : — ' Mr Dear Harcourt.—Since my visit to your chambers I have formed a good opinion of you. I like your independence and honesty. Instead of wasting your young manhood in a hopelea* quesb for fame, I think that you bad better qualify for tbe dignity of a future Lord Southcome, Unsupported by wealth, a title, evon as ancienb as ours, is no passport to happiness in these Mammon-adoring days. You have only to humour my whims to a reasonable extent to have everything of Talus that this world affords, Bub for your Btraightforward replies to one or two questions which I put to you thia letter would never have been written. I shall begin by making you an allowance of £500 per annum, and if I fiud you to be a reasonable sensible fellow, a portion of my wealth will be yours. I may want you to marry to please me, and beg of you to promptly drop all enbanglemenbs, if any exist). You are aware thab absolutely nobbing goes wibh tho title ; yet if ib is possible for us to understand each other, your future is assured. Lot me hear from you at once. Affectionately yours, • Southcome.' Harcourt had no entanglements, fortunately, and had long given up tbe idea bbab love existed out of bhe books of poets and romancists. If his übclo had chosen a beaubiful and virtuous lady, he was quite prepared to make her a model husband. The airy dreams of bia early youbh—the dreams of somo lovely ideal of womanhood —were gone. Young men of twenty-six years often fancy that they are cynicß. He was thinking of all this as ho strode through the streets of Kilburnie. Ho was half afraid thab he and Lord Southcome would quarrel, and yeb whab folly it would be to quarrel with a splendid inheritance, for my lord waa very rich. ' If he ia a man himself,' he thought, * he will despise me if I appear unmanly. Within the bounda of reason I am quite ready to conform to his lordship's wishes, but I cannot forfeit my self-respect upon any consideration. As for my future wife, I merely require a lady to do tho honours of my house—a lady wha will bis worthy of the position conferred upon her by the rank thab will one day be mino.' He shopped to lieht a cigar, and bo gaze upon the lovely village of Kilburnie, which was revealed to him by a bend in the lane. In the red sunshine of the departing daygod, the village looked like an enchanted valley as it neabled between two giant hills green with the freahnesß of May. 1 Very poetical,' reflected Harcourt, ' bub I doubt if the bucolic gentlemen of Kilburnie ever saw any beauty in their native place. Now I wonder if there is such a thing as ah inn amidab bhe rural charms?' He vaulted over a rough wooden fence, intending to walk to the village through a

well-worn path in bhe fields. Ib was nob until his feet touched the other side that ho became aware that he had badly lacerated bhe palm of his lefb hand. He had set bhe whole of his. weighb upon the broken and jagged end of a big rusty nail, and the wound gave him intense agony, while there was a copious flow of blood. • Asa 1' he muttered, savagely. Hh bound hia handkerchief about the injured hand, bub thia only seemed to aggravate the pain. Thore was no doubt that it required surgical attention, and he continued toward the village with rapid strides. In ten minutes he waa on the threshold of a houae of entertainment called the New Inn. Ib was at least a hundred years old and covered wibh ivy. The landlord sbared ab the new comer, and Harcourb hastily called for some brandy. He was white and fainb. «I suppose that you have a doctor in thisneigbbourhoed?' he asked, ' I have cut my hand rather badly on one of your fences. It eeema absurd, but the pain is sickening.' The landlord hesitated a moment, then he replied : # « We ain't gob no reg lar doctor in Kilburnie, sir, but thero'a Docbor Averill, b'obher end o' bhe village, as mighb dress your hand in a case o' this kind. He's a strange old gen'leman, he is, an' wo knows little about him in tho village. He keepß hisself to hieself, he do—him an' hia family.' * Thank you,' Dudley Harcourb said. * I will beard bhe lion in his den ab once.' He turned upon his heel, and the landlord called after him : / * The big red brick house at the end of the village, sir, inside bhe high walls.' Harcourt nodded his bhanks, and hurried away, conscious of many curious eyes being upon him. A ruddy-cheeked boy followed close behind, and Buddenly exclaimed : 'Thia be it, sir, bub I don't think bhe docter'll leb you go in.' The young man found himßelf aba email gate in a great brick wall, over the top of which was a dense masa of foliage. He could see nobhing of the houae beyond, and the gate bad neither bell nor knocker. For a little while he vigorously applied hia heels to the door, and a voice angrily demanded what he wanbed. He looked up, and saw the face of a man scowling at him over bhe wall —a gardener, evidently. • Hello ! Whab d'ye wanb ?' demanded bhe human Cerberus. ' Docbor Averill, I have meb with a nasty accident,' Harcourt Baid impabienbly. •Why d'ye come here? The docbor he don'b pracbice now. You're a obranger, eh ? kVell, I'll see.* Wibh a growl, bhe man disappeared, and five minutes later Dudley Harcourb heard bho gabe being unlocked, and bhe clang of a heavy chain ; bhen ib swung open, revealing the bgura of the gardener—a thick - seb, powerfully builb man, who surlily commanded him to come in. Harcourb obeyed, and the gate was closed and locked. The man glancod curiously at him, then with a jerk of his head, he turned intoagrass grown pathway beneath a small forest of trees, the young man following closely upon his heolß. In one ininube bhey were oub of bhe miniature wood, and within a few paces of a big, prison-like, red brick house. •I'll show you into bho doctor's sbudy,' bbc gardener remarked. ' An', mind ye, if you are here under any frivolous pretence, you'll hear aboub ib ! Whab's your name ?' •Take me bo your master,' Harcourb replied, haughtily. •If you were a servanb of mine, I would beach you to be civil to strangers.' The man favoured him with a wolfish grin, and shambled into bhe gloomy hall. There was no obher servanb aboub, and afber a momenta's hesibabion, he openod ono of bhe many doors in the great passage, silently pointing into a room beyond.

CHAPTER IL

A HOUSE OF MYSTERY.

Dudley entered a large room, whose walls were lined with bookcases from floor to ceiling. The one window was draped with heavy dark curtains, which effectually shut oub the light, and there was a suspicion of stale tobacco smoke in the air. Tho funereal gloom, the massive, sombre furniture and the deathly sileoce were extremely depressing. The young man was curious aa to what would follow, notwithstanding the acute twinges in his injured hand. Doctor Averill was evidently a mosb eccentric personage. Five minutes passed and then Dudley Harcourb became aware of tho doctor's presence. He glided into the room, his feeb encased in soft slippers thab gave forth no sound, a tall, stroDgiy-built man. with flashing dark eyes, a bushy beard, and a perfect mane of black hair. He shot one comprehensive glance at his visitor, and closed tbo door, saying : 'My servant man says thab yoa are badly burb. Let mo look ab your hand. Humph 1 Ib is much worse than 1 expecbed, and you have losb a lob of blood. You hare torn open one of the main arteries, and gangrene will seb in unless the wound is skilfully treated. See !it is full of rust.' His tones were deep and resonant, and he frowned almosb angrily. 'Ibwas a ridiculous thing to do,' Harcourb said, regretfully ; ' bub I had no idea that bhero was any danger. If you can fix it so up that I can catch the eighb o'clock train fco Soubbcoma, I am aura that I shall be ereatly indebted to you, sir.' ' I am nob asking for thanks or gratitude,' Dr. Averill replied, impatiently, • because I regard the whole thing in the lighb of a nuisance. I bate strange faces, and ib seems thab I can find peace nowhere.' He burned to a side 6able to light a lamp, and then continued : • Take off your coab, and don't ttrlk bo me about any eighb o'clack brain. I will express no opinion until bhe wound has been well bathed, only so far thab you will be crippled for life unless ib ia skilfully dressed. There is wine on yonder sideboard. Help yourself. I shall be back shortly.' He glided away in hia heavy noisoless fashion, and Dudley Harcourb was lefb bo reflections which were the reverse of pleasanb. What would Lord Southcome say? He would freb and fume at firsb ; bhen would become alarmed upon receiving no news of his nephew. In the end ib might be hard to obtain his forgiveness. Harcourb helped himself bo some porb wine. He felb sick and fainb. Ho had Buffered a broken arm on the football field in his college days, but the pain and general misery had been weak compared with whab he had ab firsb regarded as a more scratch. Docbor Averill returned wibh a case ot surgical instruments, some liniment, and linen bandages, A girl fallowed him, carrying a large bowl of waber, which she seb down without a word, and lefb the room. Even in thab brief epace, Dudley caughb . the flash of the loveliest pair of brown eyea ib had ever been his lot to see, as they were momentarily raised to his, and his hearb gave a greab throb. •Hold yourself steadily, please,' the doctor said, gruffly. 'If I had acted as my judgment dictated, I should have refused you admibtance to my house ab all.' Dudley made no reply, and with defb fingers Docbor Averill washed and dressed the wound. • There,' he said, ab length, ' You had bebter go bo bed ab once. I shall givo you an opiate, and ab eighb o'clock to-morrow morning my man will wake you. After breakfasting with rao, you musb go to the railway stabion, and I shall ask j-ou never to abtempb to communicate with mo again.' He touched a gong on the table, and in response tbe surly gardener pub in an ap- ; pearaaco.

' Abel,' bhe doctor continued, ' show this gentleman ' •My name ia Harcourt,' Dudley interrupted. . ' 1 have no desire to know your name, was the impatient rejoinder. 'Abel, show thia gentleman to a apare room, and supply him with what refreshments the house affords. He leavea hare tomorrow, immediately after breakfast.' Abe! iavourod the young man wibh a scowl, and led the way upabaira. The room he pointed out waa in keeping with thereat of "the house—gloomy and dark. The faded, crimson curtains were drawn across the one small window, and the furniture was of the most meagre deacripbien. With hia uninjured hand, Dudley pulled the curtains aside, but an exclamation of diaappointmenb escaped bim. The view waa etfecbually screened by the dense foliage of a small forest of lofty firs, which made mournful muaic as they waved in the' fitful evening breeze, ' A melancholy house—a house of mystery and shadows,' the young man thought. He shivsred slightly, then his face brighboned with hope, and ha murmured : 'Perhaps my attendant will be the girl wibh the glorious brown eyas. A cup of tea from her hands would be delicious ! From the hands of that brute called Abel either feod or drink would choke me—l verily believe 1 I wonder who and whab this Doctor Averill ia ? Can that beaubiful, sad-faced girl be bia daughter?' Furbher enunciations were cub Bhort by tho door being sent open by a kick from the toe of the gardener's boot. He carried a tray, which ho set down on a writingtablo, saying: « Bottled beer and cold chicken. Thab a the best you'll geb here. There's some medicine in thab vial. Take ib ab ten o'clock, the doctor says.' ' Thanks,' responded Harcourt, politely, if briefly. ' No thanks needed,' growled Abel. ' I've gob plenty bo do wibhoub being' botherod with prying strangers. He wenb oub, and banged the door after him. The shock sent a Bharp spasm of pain bhrough Dudley's wounded hand, and he heartily wished himself where bhere was ab least a libtle civility. His aoul revolted at sight of the food and beer. He could neither eat nor drink, and he ompbied the contents of the vial ouo of the window. For an hour he sab perfectly still, his senses half dazed by bhe pain in hia hand and arm. Ib was impossible for him to undreae, oven had ho desired to do so. A strong feelinp of resenbmenb againsb Dr. Averill burned within him, and he resolved bo speak his mind freely bhe nexb morning. Gradually bbc shadows deepened until the room was enveloped in darkness, and all around him was as Bilont aa the tomb. There was nob even the ticking of a clock to be heard, and the lonelineaa and gloom became horribly depressing. Dudley struck a light and a__w thab it waa paab ten o'clock. Then ho laid his watch on the dressing-table, and its quick ' tick tick ' aounded to him like the throbbing of a human heart.' There waa neither gas, lamp, nor candle in the room, and a faint gleam of light attracted him to the window. At first ib appeared bo be as mystic and illusive as a will-of-bho wisp. The wind had completely died out, and the fir trees wore standing, tall and straight, like gianb sentinels. Beyond bheni bhe burnished leavea of some copper beeches fluttered in bhe glow of a rising moon, stirred by the faintesb breath of air. Dudley opened the window softly. He did nob know why, bub he felt bhub thia simple act, if heard, would enrage the 'enemy,' as ho mentally termed both proprietor and servant of this gloomy mansion. The cool night air was sweet to hia nostrils, refreshing to hia hob brow, tie peered into the gloom, and listened intently. Surely that sound was made by bhe ripple of genble wabera I If bo, bhere waa a river very near to the houae—probably one of the many ofi-ehoota of the Severn. 'I should like to explore bhis place,' ho bhoughb, 'and, notwithstanding she surliness of bhe enemy, I will be up wibh the sun I' A bab whirred past the window, so close thab its wings seemed bo brush his face, and he ehivorod. He drew back, intending bo shub the casement, but paused with his hand on bhe framework, startled and bewildered by a breath of sweeteat mut=ic, like the whiaporing of an iEolian harp, which floated on the silent air in fairy numbers. Harcourb wondered if he waa dreaming. He clasped his hand to his hob brow. The muaic waa but the outcome of hia disordered fancy, and waa probably the prelude to a long and serious illneaa. There was fever in his veins, and he had acted foolishly, wilfully, in destroying the opiate which Dr. Avorill had prescribed. To be ill in thiß house of mystery would be nothing short of a calamity ! He closed the casemenb and the music was srone. He opened ib again, and now the most entrancing voice in the wido world waa breaking inbo softest song., Then ib was no illusion. In a moment he bhoughb of tho girl with the glorioua oyeß of colden brown, and his heart bounded into his throat. He listened now in a rapture of delight to the words of the singer, whose flute-like voice waa aB faint and mystic as the sighs of -_E«.lus. 'Behold, how brightly soeming All nature shows; In Roltlen sunlight gleaming BIU-ihea the roae. How fury liappy things must bo That aro so bright and fair to see 1 Ah, no! in that sweet flower A worm there lies ; And, lo 1 within the hour It fades—it dies.' 'Behold, youns:beauty's glances Around sho flings; While as she lightly daacos, Her soft laugh rings. How very hsppy they must be. Who are as young and gay as sho 1 'Tis not when smiles are brightest, So otd tales aay, The. bosom's lord sits lightest— Ah! Well-a-dayt ' Beneath tho greenwood's cover The maiden steals, And. as she meet 3 har lover, Her blush roveala How very happy all muat be Who love with truatful constancy. By cruel fortune parted. She learns too late. How some die broken-hearted— Ah ! hapleas fate!' The sweet voice died away until is seemed to mingle with bhe faint murmurt of the wind in the breos. Harcourb forgob his injured hand ; he felb the blood bounding madly through his veins. He saw the flash of a pair of golden brown eyes, for the singer could be none obher than the beautiful, fawn-like creature upon whom be had gazed momentarily in the doctor's study. Her face was imprinted on his soul—the eyes haunted him in tbeir intense mournfulness. He waited breathlessly, but the singer was silent." The he thought thab a sob reached his ear. Perhaps ib waa only the moaning, of the night wind, or the rippling of the river below. No, for the sigh again floated near him, and he called softly : ' Lady, I have been charmed by your sweeb singing. If you can hear me make some reply and pardon me for presuming bhab you are unhappy.' There was silence profound. Dudley Harcourb heard bhe beating of. his own hearb. ' Ab least you will pardon me,' he eaid, apologetically, his tones full of keen dieappointment. 'I am the stranger upon whom Doctor Averill bestowed bis skill and —hia pity.' There was a libtle sarcasm in the lasb word, and he was half regrebfully retiring from the window, when he heard a response, soft and low, like an angel's call: ' Who speaks of Docbor Averill and pity 1 Ab, stranger, you musb be mad 1' J

•I hope not,' Dudley replied, earnestly. • I came here a few hours since, P"™* J? accident. The doctor dressed a bad wound and I am bo be turned oub again early next morning. But surely ib is a waste of time to tell you all this. You saw mo, and muat bheßwect voice interrupted him, warningly. ' Abel is on his rounds. He undersbood bhat she was in fear or the surly gardeaer. There waa terror in the trembling tones that seemed to speaK to him oub of the darkness of the nighb. A moment later he heard tootsteps below, and saw the gleam of a swinging lantern, as ib flashed among bho trees, the barking of several dogs, and bhe muttered imprecations of bhe man, in hoarse, savage, tone?. i Gradually these sounds died away, ana Dudley waited in almost breathless silence to catch tha firab words übbered by tho sweeb voice of the unknown maiden, Vlt, for ono glimpßO of ber fair faco 1 Ab last bis patience was exhausted, aud he cried: 'Lady, lam waiting. My hearb bells me bhab you are in deep brouble.^ If helpiß posoible. you may rely upon me. ' If you are no friend of Doctor Averill s, for pity's sake, listen, and aid me,' was the half sobbing response. ' I am no friend ; I never saw bhe man until to-day. Who are you—where are you ? Explain tbia torturing mystery. He spoke with suppressed eagerness, yob bis voice vibrated wibh fierce emotion. «I will trusb you—even to my own undoing—you, a stranger. Only to stranger dare I speak. lam here a prisoner against my will; I have been hero for many long months, and am never allowed to leavo my rooms withoub an attendant. Sometimes I think that I must bo mad, only that I remember the happy paab so vividly —my dear father's fuca —my beautiful homo. In the end tho docbor will kill mo ; I do nob ace him very often ; but his looks appal me; hia eyea are full of evil. He haboa me ; if you can help me, I will bell you why.' . Tho sorrow, the pathos in tbe girl s voice atirrod Dudley Harcourt's hearb to its very depths. He listened in the utmost bewilderment. Then he remembered that he was a man of the world, a lawyer. He remembered thab he was living in the nineteenth century, and thab rescuing maidens in distress belonged bo bhe more romanbic past. j . ' Answer me a few questions,' he said, in a cold, mabter-of-facb tone, 'and if wrong has been done—if wrong is being done—l will bake prompb measures againsb any breaker of the law. What is Doctor Averill to you, madame? Why are you here at all ?' •Doctor Averill is my uncle—my guardian.' ' What is your name—your age ?' •My name is Laline O'Connor,' the soft, low voice replied. 'And I am eigbboon years of age.' ' The same lovely girl,' be thoughb, hia brain firing. • There is some mystery here tbab needs a Bpeedy solution.' For a little while there was silence ; then he said thoughtfully : «I will think this over carefully, Miss O'Gonnor, and you may rely upon my immediate attention ' But ehe interrupted him with a piteous cry. 'No—no Ilb would be useless; I could not bear'ib; ib would kill me. He would kill me I The same promise waa given to me long ago, by ono wibh a noble, kindly face—a genbleman who came from the river into tho grounds. I spoke to him there, and he promisod aa you promise—he talked aa you talk. He left me, and'my heart was filled with hope and dread. After thab I was locked in here, and bortured by Docbor Averill until I feared thab 1 shoulddie. No help camo bo me, and no moro boats wore permitted on tbe river. I could not endure my uncle's fiendieh cruelty again. Some one must help me to reach the beautiful, freo world beyond this awful place—help me secretly, or it will be my tomb?' Dudley's mind was in a perfect whirl. The young lady's terror was unmiatakablo, bub whab did she desire him bo do ?—to rescue her in an unlawful manner, in the dark hour ot midnight, from the hands of a despotic guardian ? Tho escapade did not appeal to his common sense, bub ib stirred hia chivalry. Then again, ho could not forgeb bhe anger and annoyance of Doctor Avorill—the aavatie surliness of his man. Surely bhey had some cause bo dread the presence of a strangor in bheir more than doubtful household. 'Miss Lalino O'Connor,' he said, softly, * I am convinced thab bhere is some cruel injustice being done here, and at any coat I will assist you. You aay that ib musb be done secrebly, and I only regrob bhab ib cannob be at once. At present, I have only the use of one hand, and ib may be two or bhree weekß beforo you hear of me. again. My name ia Dudley Harceurb, and I am staying ab Southcome, a town a low milea ditibant. lam a lawyer—l have powerful influence., and your story haa stirred me deeply. Perhaps you can contrive to meeb me accidentally before I leavo in the morning—;' ' No—no, ib is impossible,' tho girl interrupted, quickly. * Oh, merciful Heavon I there is liopo ab last I Surely my prayers have been heard.' ' It appears so, Misa O'Connor,' Harcourb said, gravely. ' I wish that I could see you.' Ho laughed slightly. ' Ib ia so strange talking to a mere voice, as ib were. Now, I musb know which I room you occupy, and find an opportunity to reconnoitre tiho irroutide. You may feol assured, Miao O'Connor, that I shall nob fail.' He spoke with aa easy confidence tbab he was far from feeling, and the girl's iwsob thanks flubbered to his ears liko a sofb sigh. He beard tbab her window was the second one in the top story, overlooking the river, aad he smiled a litble grimly. Ab bho same timo Misa O'Connor's confidence in hia strength and will nerved him bo dare anything. The position would be rather a novel one for the presumptive heir of Lord Southcome—rather an axtraordinary one for tho clover London barrister—Mr Dudley Harcourb ! (To be Continued Daily.)