THE BRANDED FOOT.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXIII, Issue 75, 31 March 1902, Page 6

THE BRANDED FOOT.

(By a Famous Author)

f\\-\ CHAPTER XXIV.

JANE'S PURPOSE.

Here, as in many anoibhef situation of peril, Jane showed herself a marvel of swift resourcefulness. Her arm shot out, and before Fannie had mJore than risen from her chair, a hand was clapped noiselessly, but with iron firmness, over her mouth. Then Jane bent her head close and whispered five words of infinite significance to the girl: "Donald Gordon is Jack Matthews!" At that instant Mrs Schuyler opened the boudoir dolor. She was about to pass through ■when a low cry of dreadful anguish fitruck to her heart and caused her to turn about. The sight that greeted her eyes was overwhelming" in its appeal to her generous nature. Obeying Jane's hastily whispered directions, Fannie stood with iher arms wildly Outstretched towards Mrs Schuyler, as if to call her back by the cry that in reality had escaped her lips involuntarily the moment Jane had taken away her hand. "My darling-!" cried Mrs Schuyler, brokenly, as she hastened to the girl; "I have broken your heart! Forgive me! say that you forgive me, sweet!" It was an r.nxious crisis for Jane. What the girl might say in her genuine agitation she dould not forecast, ttnd she feared it would be something- that no ingenuity could explain away. Fortunately for their monstrous plot, Mrs Schuyler left Fannie no^ thing so say. She did not wait for An answer, but folded her in her arms and continued: "Do not grieve. I am ihconsiderUte of your inexperience. You need not meet Mr Gordon this evening. Lc /itgo to another time. I give my permission cheerfully that you may have your dinner in private. Cheerfully, do you undersand; do you understand, dear'f She led Fannie to a chair and seated her; and the girl, now alive to the situation, and realising what her part meant, played it with such sweetness and grace that Mrs Schuyler went away still consciencesmitten because she had spd&en severely to the tender, fragile young heart! , , The moment -hey were alone again, Fannie turned with fierce earnestness upon her mother: "Did you say " she began. "Yes, a hundred times yes!" groaned Jane. "I could curse myself for not having looked up Donald Gordon! But how could I guess that we had ever met him?" "You should have looked him up," Baid Fannie, with extreme bitterness. "A nice fix we are in now on account of your neglect." The pallor of her recent terror left Jane's cheeks, and an angry flush took ii,s place. She glared at her daughter an instant, and retorted: "It is not for you, miss, to call me to account. By "whose cleverness, ' audacity and unspeakable suffering have you been placed where 70U can command all the luxuries of life and have millions in sight?" Fannie bit her lip, and averted her eyes. "I know," she said, gloomily, "but what are the luxuries if I cannot in joy them? and wherfe are the millions if another stands ready to expose us, as I suppose Jack does?" Before answering, Jane drew a chair beside the girl, and took her bands in her own. "You and I must remember one thing, Fannie," she said, with gentl/ness that suggested that there •was some trace of the human in her heart: "we must stand of fall together. It isn't profitable for us to quarrel, no mr.-iter what happens. Don't forget that Jane Beaseley does her best all the time." "No, no! I won't forget! I didn't mean to complain-—but this discovery j s —why, it makes our situation simply impossible! I cannot forever excuse myself from meeting this Donald " "You won't need to. As for the situation, Fannie, I have faced worse since we began our operations, and have not even mentioned them to you. I had to tell you of this, because you have a part to play in it. Now, listen: I met Jack Matthews in the corridor." She went on to give an account of her experience, not omitting to confess her own despair until she saw that she had an unforeseen hold upon the spendtnrift. "Do you mean to keep the appointment he made to-night?" asked Fannie, her voice hollow with dread. "I shall meet him to-night," Jane quietly answered. "For what purpose?" After a moment of silence, Jane Bp6.ce with impressive calmness: "To make terms with him—if I can." The girl shuddered. "And," she faltered, "and if you cannot V" Another ominous pause. Then Jane leaned forward, and hissed full in the girl's face; "Dead mo- tell no tales!" Fannie shivered from head to foot, MXI. covered her fac~ with her hands. Jane lc .Ked at her thoughtfully for a moment, and said, composedly, rising as she spoke: "Your dinner will be brought in froon. You must be ready for it." Th«. l sbs went to her own chamber. There was a dull weight.upon Mrs Schuyler's heart rvhile she finished dressing. Keenly as her affections wee tor..ted by memory of her supposed daughter's sensitiveness to ia-

"You saw Miss Krafft!"

wered.

A ROMANCE OF A MONSTROUS PERSONATION FRAUD.

proof, she could Hot dismiss the chill witn which »■- c had heard, the girl use language unbecoming a well-brefl girl of good disposition. She was still depression when she left her dressingroom, and .xme upon Mrs Hapgood and Hilda Krafft. The sight of Hilda instantly dissipated ncr gloom. "Ah!" she said, brightly, "are the letters aY Written?"

"Signed, sealed and Stamped,, Mrs Schuyler," answered Hilda. "And Uncle Franz and Minna will know just how tihemere looks in every par u. alar?" "Dear me! no;- I'm afraid not* It will take a good many letters to accomplish that." 'This young lady," interposed Mrs Hapgood, "must be scoiued for devoting to letters the time, she ought to have given to drt ss. Why, she didn't allow herself any time at all. I wonder Eiie doesn't look like a fright of disorder." •

Hilda laughed lightly. "See if I have been careless!" she cried, and stood for inspection, turning k. - ly around, while Mrs Schuyler examined her costume critically.

There was no fault to be found by the ladie 1, but there Was one observer at a distance who viewed the scene with savage discontent—a man who stood in an archway leading- from the corridor—too far away to see clearly of to hear more than the mere sounds of .-t-ne voices.

"She hiu ttared!" he muttered, aloud. "Well, I'll keep my word and ex "

He closed his lips and turned about sharply, disturbed by a slight sound. Jane wr: approaching him hurriedly from another corridor.

"I want to speak to you," she whis^ pered. "You will waste your breath," he replied, in dangerously loud tones. "Five minutes from now your disgrace will be an accomplished fact." "Oh!" she gasped, "what do you mean? aou promised—be quick! We may be interrupted——" "What do I care for interruptions?" he burst out, fiercely. "I told you not to let that young fraud of yours go down to dinner. I told you I would no; endure her lying presence. And you defy me! I tell you——" "Fannie is in her room," said Jane, eagerly, naif perceiving his mistake. "You gain nothing by lying to me," he replied. "I saw her as she stood with Mrs Schuyler and Mrs—-"

Jane drew a ueep wreath of relief, and would have said more, but a door opened near them, and a servant passed bearing a tray, the dinner for Fannie. He was too busy with his burden to notice them, and they separated quickly. * What a mercy I met him," thought Jane. "Fortune does favour me in spite 0; my difficulties. I missed what I wanted to say, but I've done better, for with that idea he would have blurted out the truth, and then there would iiave been no strategy that could have saved us."

Gordon went to the drawing-room but half-convinced of Jane's assertion. He credited ncr rather with some new deceit, but he was also thankfu. tJ.at she had met him, for he recognised that his rage might ha"c led him into a mistake.

A very anxious young man was Donald Gordon. In his interview with Jane in his room, he had passed from despondency over his lost fortune to confidence in his ultimate possession of it, anu then, at *ne mention of the real May and the real Hester Millburn, back to despondency again.

His brain was awhirl with fears, conjectures, and temptations. The latter 'were the strongest, and Jane herself was not more anxious for the midnight meeting than" he. "I am a wreck,' he thought, "if the real May Schuyler be found alive. But how am I going to be any better off if Jane Bet -jeley and her brilliant daughter snap up my fortune from under my nose? jferhaps midnight will tell."

He was convinced that Jane had not lied to him the moment he entered the drawing-room, for he was presented at once to Hilda KrafEt; but that he forgot in his surprise at the radiant vision, of loveliness" that confronted him.

Fannie was an unmistakable beauty, but there was something in Hilda's face that made the other seem pale. Fannie realised that to the full, and Mrs Schuyler recog* nised it with a regretful pang.

Hilda's skin was of more pearly whiteness, her eyes of more lovely depth and softness; but these outward manifestations were really of less weight in determining the balance than the pure, sweet soul with-

in. It irradiated her face and lent a charm to her timid, yet elegant, manners that F-annie could not hope to attain.

"I hope we shall be friends, Miss Krafft," said Gordon, with the fascinating manner that became him well with ladies. "We ought to be, with Mrs Schuyler as a mutual friend. She has always been better to me than I deserve, though," and he laughed pleasantly. "I confess I have always been villainously jealous of Frank Gresham-—Sir Franklin, I ought to say, now that he has been knighted."

Mrs Schuyler, delighted to see him display so much manly cheerfulness after the crushing disappointment to which he had been subjected, responded gaily: "I hope you have cured yourself of that malady, for Frank may begin a visit here before you leave." "I shall be glad to see him," said Gordon h^av'iJy ■

Hilda hardly heard this reply, for the mention of Sir Frcaklin had thrown her into confusion. Painfully conscious that she wa<? blushing, she tried to draw away.

Lut Gordon hod detected the tell tale flush, and his curiosity was aroused.

"I presume, Miss Kxafft," he ventured, "you a»e already acquainted w?*h my n)d friend?"

•*T have never met him," she ans-

"Odd!" thought Gordon. "I thought I knew how to read a girl's blush. I :ouM have swern that she

Was in love with hfrifi. Jove! 1 believe Fm failing- in love with her myself!"

Dinner was announced, and he looked around with an expression of assumed surprise. Mrs Schuyler answered his unexpressed question With a polite apology for her "daughter's" absence, and indicated that she wished him to take Mrs Hapgood in to dinner.

That he did, and in spite of his anxieties, the dinner* and the subsequent diversions in the drawingroom passed like a dream of delight. It was not till .he retired to his chamber that the time begun to hang heavy on his mind.

He then had an hour or more to Wait, during which he paced the r00m,,: Or sat desperately trying to sloothe his nerves with cigars.

As midnight approached, he found himself Wrestling with a mighty problem: should he keep the appointment, or cast aside all hopes of fortune, and expose the shameful fraud? - .-■■•'

Against his temptation, to dally with the perpetrator of the fraud, there. Was a subtle atmosphere of pure thought and impulse, the direct result, doubtless, of some hours in the presence of sweet Hilda, though he did Hot recognise it as such, and, at last, just as the clock was on the stroke of twelve, he caught up his hat, and went forth.

"I'll see' what she has to say," he concluded. "I'tl make her tell how she accomplished her fiendish design, and that may be useful in bringing the whole truth to light." Thus, his weakness temporised With temptation, for, alt bottom, the reason that impelled him to go was hope that Jane would show him some way to recover the fortune he had lost.

Matters of small consequence in themselves had occurred to prevent Jane from leaving the hlouse before the appointed time, and Gordon was already pacing up and down beside the ancient powder-house before she stole catttiously out into the night, and sought the double obscurity of shrubbery as she crossed the lawns.

Crafty* malignant Jane! she supposed that she was pursuing her devioUs way unobserved; but close upon her tracjc came a gliding form, following her with the faithfulness of a dog, and the stealthy steps of an Indian!

CHAPTER XXV. THE GREATEST RISK OF ALL.

The moon was full that night, and the sky was cloudless. A moving figure could have been distinguished readily if it had stayed in the open, but both Jane and her pursuer screened themselves in shadows effectually as they drew away from the mansion, and when she had coiiie to the vicinity of, the powder-house there was no further need of concealment for Jane.

The place was well hidden from any other building1 by groves of trees, and it was so far from the mansion that a shout would hardly have crossed the intervening distance.

For the purposes of the interview, it suited Jane well that the moon was shining1 unobstructedly. She had something to reveal that she wanted Gordon to see clearly. He was impatiently striding around and around the ancient landmark When she drew near, and at last, as he faced the distant mansion in his walk, he came upon her. For a moment they stood face to face, and Jane cast a cautious look around.

"I think we are safe here," Slie murmured, gently touching the hilt of a shea-thed stiletto concealed in her bosom.

"You may be sure of it," he responded. "I knew what I was about when I selected the spot, and, while you have kept me waiting, I have explored the entire vicinity. You may speak with perfect freedom." Even then, with noiseless glide, a dark figure was moving to the shelter of a great oak that stood a dozen feet from the powder-house. Gordon paused a brief moment, and, as Jane did not speak, he rushed straight to the questions that tormented him

"Where is Hester Millburn? Where is the real May Schuyler?" "That," replied Jane, coolly, "is my secret, not yours, Mr Gordon." He pressed his lips together and scowled ominously, realizing that in dealing With so crafty an adversary, little would be gained by directness. "I am in your power, Mr Gordon," she added, "and you are in mine." "I don't know about that!" exclaimed he.

She went on tranquilly, just as if he had not spoken. "As neither of us can go down without the destruction of the other, I am here to make a proposition that, if you agree to it, will spare my child and make you independent." "What if I don't agree ?" he hotly demanded. An interval of impressive silence followed. The moonlight fell full upon her face, and he could not fail to see that its lines were set in firm, unswerving determination. "What?" she echoed, presently, "then your fate will be upon your own head." His lips parted and his anger impelled him to a torrent of mad, scornful invective, but he checked himself before her upraised hand. She held it in warning that he should listen, and the impulses of honour within him yielded to temptation. Again he decided to hear what she had to say. "We waste time," she said. bee! She drew from beneath her cloak a case which she opened, and the-pale moonlight blazed upon diamonds oi the purest water. Gordon looked at the brilliant gems in astonishment, and then at her in mute inquiry. . , He was utterly unprepared for the argument she proceeded to draw from them. "They are Fannies," said Jane, eagerly. "Mrs Schuyler bought them the day we went to her house, and gave them to Fannie in the evening. See! brooch, rings, necklace, bracelets, pins, aigrette! You know better than I how immensely valuable tiey are. They are yours, Jack —pardon, Mr Gordon! Get them to New York and have them replaced with paste. Fannie will wear the imitation jewels and nobody will be the wiser, for nobody will suspect. The money that you will get for them will be yours—do you understand?" She would have said more in her feverish eagerness, but he broke in with a harsh, contemptuous laugh. "Madame I!e*saiey," said he, "I would hare broker, in upon your dis-

(To be continued.)

course sooner, but it took me time to realise that one so cunning as you generally are could be- such, a fatal. I can hardly believe it yet. Bo you really mean, to say that this is the way you would compensate me for the loss of my inheritance?" *'They are magnificent—«ostljy," I faltered Jane; "there will .be more presents as time goes on— —" > "Potoh!" he exclaimed, contemptuously thrusting* back the casket, "you trifle with me. Why, you make yourself ridiculous! Don't you know thttt with the income from our lands along1 the Hudson, near Hill-1 crest, from those alone, I could buy such a bauble as that every week of my life? Huh! 1 gave you credit for more wit!" "But this is not all I offer," she panted, "not all. Listen: The rentals shall be equally divided-—-" Again her speech was cut short by a mocking1 laugh. "You have betrayed yourself!" he cried, exultantly. "You would not dicker thus if you were as strong in your position as you pretended to be. Keep your miserable diamonds —until I expose you!" He was excited with triumph, and for a moment' believed that it was his sense of honour that, was the victor, but he saw a fearful change come over the face of the woman —a change that would have put him on his guard if he had known her better. She was driven to her final argument. If that should fail, there would be but one dreadful resort left. "Then," she hissed, grasping hia arm, and resisting his effort to shake her off, "if you won't have' JXQ/iiX •'■--■■'■-" "I'll have all!" "Lose all! Expose us! Y&u will expose what does not exist, for before the dawn of day, before you can say the fatal word, Dannie and I will have Vanished from Pinemere. But listen, Mr Gordon —we will vanish for a purpose. Thlough all the v imps of darkness block my way, I'll find Hester Millburn and the lost heiress to the property you covet!" She drew back then, her hand clutched to her bosom,«her face set in ghastly rigidity, frightful in the ghostly light of the moon. Gordon gave no heed to the warn* ing look upon her face. His atten* tion was taken wholly with her argument. "You will find Hester Millburn," he echoed sharply. "By Jove, but that's an admission. I foresaw it a moment ago when you were dickering. You lied to me! You don't know where Hester and May are I You thought to deceive and scare me into submission to your outrageous scheme, of which I, egad, I was to be the chief victim! Well, on my word, Madame Beaseley, you are the biggest fool I ever encountered—the biggest fool by a large majority!" He laughed loudly as he finished, and turned on his heel. Jane stopped him. "One moment," she said, with strange coolness. "There is one more argument, and when you hear it you will admit that It is unanswerable." He looked at her with some curiosity. She was thrusting the casket of diamonds back under her cloak, and appeai-ng to fasten it there somehow. The drooping lids covered her eyes, and he had no suspicion that whirling in her brain were thoughts of the risks she was about to take— trie greatest possible risks. More rapidly than lightning she reviewed what she had forecast as a possibility—a single well-directed blow, a cautious retreat to the mansion, the finding of a dead body next day, the tragic mystery, the eternal silence of her one dangerous. enemy.

Consequences? Ay, but results, also ! These were flashing through Jane s brain when die said, mockingly:

"Well?" Clear, but not loud> rang tha awful answer: "Your fate is upon your own. head! Die!"

With the words her right arm rose suddenly—a Bwift flash followed the movement of her hand—and the next instant that flash sped downward, straight to its mark !