BY RIGHT OF BIRTH; OR, THE SECRET OF DUNSWOLD.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 53, 2 March 1907, Page 15

BY RIGHT OF BIRTH; OR, THE SECRET OF DUNSWOLD.

By A. GORDON THOMSON,

CHAPTER XXm. — (Continued). Jim Dalton had been informed of all that Madme Despard had explained to I Boy, and was now scarcely less impa- •- tient to learn the history of his friend's - fatHer than was that friend himself. Sylvia, through Vera Lesmore, had also heard with delight for Roy's sake, tut with hopelessness as far as her own future was concerned. Vera, in her quiet way," had stood up for Roy, and lost no "opportunity of urging Sylvia to find a pretest and break off her engagement. To Jill her urgings Sylvia, however, only seswered: "It cannot be. I must marry Lord EUerlon." and Vera, unable to understand the change that had come over her friend, rwas silent. The same day Dalton and Roy paid a visit to the Royal Academy, and were .; somewhat aimlessly gazing at the pic- . tnres when they encountered Sylvia and "Lord Ellerton. - EHerton greeted Roy with grave politeness, and Sylvia with a cold reserve, -•ffliich the light in her eyes belied. " Drawing Roy aside a little while Dal- - ton was conversing with Sylvia, Ellerton, jn well-chosen language, assured Roy of the pleasure with which he had heard that the slur cast upon bis (Roy's) name had been removed, and that the secret of his parentage had been disclosed. "' Syl- - via, too, is delighted," he concluded, with a keen glance at Roy. te -But the latter had his feelings under • "control, and his features betrayed nothing as he thanked him. ••-: "Our marriage," continued Lord Eller- ' ton, "will take place before the end of "the season, and I particularly wish you to be present at the ceremony. I know that your presence.will delight Sylvia." Roy's features flushed at the unexpected request, and for a second or two he -sras silent. Gulping down the lump that gathered in his throat, he managed to . \ -answer in a steady, hard voice: ' "If I ani in England at the date of your marriage I will be present." - The slow eyes of Ellerton scanned his features as he said: "' "You intend to travel?" "Yes," was the emphatic reply. Ellerton was now claimed by another acquaintance, and Roy found himself close to Sylvia. He noted the cold, proud look on her features, which, for one instant, was dispelled as she extended her - land to him with one of her winning Emiles. He took her soft hand in his, held it for an instant, then passed on without ' uttering a word. .-. A little later he said to Dalton, m a low voice, and with &■ bitter emphasis: ' " The clearing of my name has come too late. Jim- It seems, however, that I am now'considered sufficiently respectable to be present at the Ellerton marriage. 5 K lt looks black enough for you, Roy, but then one can never be sure of what . -will happen," replied Dalton. "As Mi-. Brent would say—never be certain of any•—'thing, not even your dinner, until you have swallowed it." I ■ The next" morning Roy received a note J a m 7 Des.pard J :m|iv i h|ch sh? m- " ' in regard to his. (Roy s) : lather she had decided '■' <oa> »■ very .bold step, and requested him to meet her at King , * Cross Station on the following day (Thursday) in time to catch an express which left for the north at 12 o'clock. "You may be absent from town for two r jor three days,' 5 she wrote. While surprised by her curious action, ; Boy resolved to keep the appointment. That evening Errington dined with ■ lim by invitation, for he had not for- ■ gqtten-what he owed to the young clerk, ; >iis intention being- to aid him to advance in his profession. After dinner ■- they were joined by Jim Dalton and Leicester, the undergraduate, and the conversation assumed a lively tone. After a time Leicester turned to Eγjmgton and asked:— "Excuse mc, Mr. Errington, but may I ask if you are related to the Mrs. Eγ"lington who at one time was companion, to my late aunt, Miss Leicester, of the •Towers, Normaahurst?" . "She is my mother, and I have often, heard her speak of Miss Leicester, who* "died very .suddenly," answered Erringion. e£ Yery fortunate that I have met yon. My sister, who is in weak health, used L, frequently to visit Aunt Hester at the ■ Towers, and when there became very mrach attached to your mother. My sis- - ter was abroad at the time of aunt's death, and when she returned your mother had disappeared. I am certain my sister will write to Mrs. Errington, if efce may." '1 am sure that mother •will mc deEghted," returned Errington. ■ ? -Leicester was silent for a few mm - tttes evidently revolving something in Ms mind. The fact was that Mrs. Erlington had been Mβ aunt's favourite : companion up to the time of her death,' which had occurred about two years previous to the da.te of our story. She died suddenly, without making any provision for Mrs. Errington, which she had repeatedly expressed her intention of do- ■. ing. Leicester and his sister, who had inherited the old lady's money, considered themselves bound to carry out the wishes of the deceased, but Mrs. Errington had left the Towers on the day of the funeral, and all traces of her had --been-lost to them. "Let mc see," said Leicester, "I intend running down to the Towers to-morrow I to see my sister and it is popsible I will ... return the same day, and may possibly nave a message for your mother. I will : you at your office to-morrow at 3. o'clock, and you can take mc to your home and introduce mc to Mrs. Errington." '"It will be impossible for mc to get . away from the office at that early hour, Mr. Leicester/ answered Errington. - . " Ol1 ' yes> y° u 11 - Old Akers is my solicitor, and will let you away at any tDne if I ask him," said Leicester, and so the matter was settled. _The following day Roy arrived at •- king's Cross a little before 12 o'clock and on stepping on to the platform the Erst person he met was Jim Dalton. -On his expressing surprise Dalton inlormed Ms friend that in response to an invitation from Mr. Charles went he was on his way to Dunswold - House. , ' J ■J^ 1 * they were Madam Des,pard. appeared. She expressed no sur- - sa B .^ r bearing of Dalton's destination, bo3 c * are i° be feDow and ■ I Ko4 0X the same destination. You, at the request of Mr. Charles -of-Tw ° n , the station of the Squire W hile Roy ™il be there : - ■" We *we,of aa unhidden guest"

Author of "The Vengeance of Love," "A Millionaire's Crime," "The Emerald Ring."

Her "words puzzled the two young men, for the distinction she drew between the invitations was to say the least curious, but no explanation was vouchsafed and they took their seats in the train. CHAPTER XXIV. ALL IS MADE CLEAR. The ambiguous words of Madam Despard did not surprise Roy, for, as far fis that singular woman was concerned, surprise had left him—had, so to speak, shut the shop and put up the shutters. "~\ The journey north was a silent one, for Madam Despard appeared to have something on her mind that weighed her into silence. Roy had also much to think of, and Dalton gave his attention to one. of the reviews. Early summer was now abroad on the Yorkshire hills and green heights. Tlie trees had hung forth their tassels of varied hues, and the hedgerows hidden the last relies of winter in a fresh covering of leaves.. The modest daisy was peeping from amidst the green blades x»f grass, and in the meadows the yellow buttercups were flaunting their gaudy colours, while on many a cottage garden the first rose was kissing the summer air. Round Dunswcld House, in the park, the gardens, and on the lawn the old order of things had passed away. The traces of neglect and decay so long characteristic of the place was gone, trimness, neatness and beauty reigned in their stead, while the house itself appeared to have shed the old life and put on the. new. The boarding had: been removed from the windows, and the ivy pruned and cleared away, showing the splendid architecture of the grand old mansion. Such had been the effect of money and willing hands, applied with a taste that had destroyed the obnoxious, but saved and restored- the artistic. The interior of th& mansion had also been thoroughly overhauled, much of the old furniture having been removed and replaced by new, all in harmony with the stately rooms. When the carriage containing his guests drew up at the principal entrance Mr. Brent was in the hall to receive his visitors, and numerous servants were ready to attend them. "You are welcome, Madam Despard," he said, with a low bow, and the next moment greeted Dalton as an old friend. Turning to Roy, he held out his hand, saying: '" Mr. Sinclair, you are welcome. I need no introduction. Your face has already told mc that that is unnecessary. May I hope that in the future you will not be a stranger within the walls of Dunswold House." Jim Dalton was puzzled and mystified by the words of his old friend. It was Mr. Brent, yet not the Mr. Brent he. had known - in London. On the other hand, the cloud which had rested on the brow of Madam Despard had vanished, and a smile, radiant as the sunshine outside, had taken its place. In the drawing-room tea and other refreshments were offered to the guests, and after a little Mr. Brent said: " I have ordered dinner to be served early, and you have just time to dress," then each of his visitors were shown to their respective rooms. The dinner was a sumptuous one, and served in a manner that the dining-room of Dunswold. had long been a stranger to. During its progress conversation was principally between Dalton and the host, who showed a good deal of the cynicism of Mr. Brent. Roy, who was in a state of bewilderment, spoke but little, nor did Madam Despard, who appeared as if she was labouring under some suppressed excitement. After Madam Despard had retired to the drawing-room Mr. Brent relapsed into silence. At length, shaking off the gloom that had so suddenly fallen upon him, he said: " Come, gentlemen, follow mc. I- have something to show you," and, rising from his seat, led the way from the room. In silence-the two young men followed their host across the hall and up the broad staircase, along a lofty and bril-liantly-lighted corridor, adorned with many priceless pictures and other works of art. At the door of one particular room he paused for an Instant, saying: "This is the blue room, and it was there that the Squire of Dunswold met his death." Neither of his companions spoke, and he again led the way to the far end of the corridor, ■where he pressed his hands against a particular part of the wall, which revolved slowly at his touch, showing an opening, through which he passed, beckoning the two young men to follow, which they did. All was dark for a second, and then, by a touch, a bright light illumined the place, showing that they were in the secret chamber, to which Richard Mpntford had paid his nightly visit in former days. The room was in the same condition as before. The magnificent portrait of the lady still hung on the wall, and the small table with twenty-tlrree letters resting on it, was there. Tie only difference being that the letters had been opened and read, only the empty envelopes being left. No sooner aid Roy observe the picture on the wall than he stood gazing- at the portrait depicted there, with eyes that seemed as if they would start from their sockets. Dalton was standing behind him, he too, recognising the portrait as being the same as the miniature which Roy had received from Rebecca Ernielow. "That is - a portrait of my mother," cried Roy, hoarsely. "Yes," said Brent quietly; "but come, this place has unpleasant associations, and Madam waits for us in the drawingroom." While speaking he extinguished the light, and the' three emerged into the corridor. . Expecting some explanation, yet not knowing what to expect,. Roy, as one walking in a dream, followed the two into the drawing-room. As he crossed the threshold. Brent linked his arm in his, and leading him to the upper end of the room, where Madam Despard sat, halted before her, and with a etrange quiver in bis voice, said: "Madam, permit mc to present to you, Roy Sinclair Montford, who, by right of birth, is Squire of Dunswold." A glow of supreme delight spread over the features of Madam Despard. "Justice at last," she said, rising and confronting . Brent, and continuing: "You are not Charles Brent, but the supposed dead Richard Montford, and therefore Roy's father."

"I"deceived''tie few 'that knew mc, Madam; but your quick eyes found mc oizt," and laying his handon Roy's shoulder went.on: "I-am Richard ford, and this is my son." As revelation after revelation. burst upon Roy,, the state of his mind may he ; better imagined than described. As far as astonishment was:'concerned he had done with it, sold: it: : out as bad stock. Dalton, on his part, had listened to the various developments, with. a. surprise almost equal to' that of- Roy; This was particularly the case- when he learned that Mr Charles Brent was no other than Richard whose death he had read in the newspapers; and in a fever of excitement waited to hear the forthcoming explanation. Coffee was brought in, and after the servants withdrew, the old man gathered. the others round him in the embrasure of one of the windows to begin his narrative. The window was open, and the soft breeze gently waving the curtains to and fro, while the setting sun was tinting the tree-tops in the park,, touching the terrace and the flower garden with its fading glow. With a look at Madam Despard, then at Roy, the old man began his'narrative. . . "At the time I first met Netta Mor.rington, who was your sister, Madam, and your mother, Roy, I was about forty years of age. My life, previous to this had been devoted to wealthmaking, much of my time being spent in seeking money, and I was rich, even before my elder brother's death gave mc the Dunswold estates. ' Our acquaintance was brief, but we loved each other dearly, and were, as you know, Madam, married at Nice, and for nearly a year lived on the Continent a life of unmixed happiness. " I was always of a jealous nature, and my wife, being much younger than myself, I could not bear to see her listen to, or bestow the slightest favour on, any one of the many young men who fluttered round her. She. was of. a light disposition fond of pleasure, and excitement-, but I believe now, that even in thought she never ■wronged mc. Perhaps, I ought to have been more, tolerant, more gentle with her, but it was not my nature, ana regrets are of no avail now. "The papers, Madam, which you sent mc in London a few days ago, showed mc how foolish I had been, but then, I knew not until I read them of the existence of your step-brother. When the crisis came in Paris, and I found a young man concealed in my wife's boudoir, I at once believed the worst, and a few questions addressed to my wife's French maid, confirmed my t?elief. In a fury of jealous anger, I left the house, refusing to listen to any explanation from my wife, or read any letters addressed to mc, by my, wife, or any of her friends or relatives. Then you were horn, Eoy, and Netta died." A pause, during which Madam Despard dried the tears from her eyes, and after clearing his throat the old man proceeded: " For months I was as a madman, and it was while in this state of mind that I took action to have our marriage declared illegal, but in that I failed, thank Heaven. At the same time I now thank you, Madam, for the ability with which you fought for, and saved your sister's honour and my son's birth-right. With the loss of the lawsuit I shut myself up in Dunswold House, and for twenty years held little communication with the outer world. Alone with, my wealth I sought to find peace, but found none. My" ' only "solace "being '"the portrait of my dead wife, who seemed' to look at mc with living eyes. Your annual letter, Madam, although never read, told mc that my son lived, and the desire to see him, without being known, became stronger with the passing years. My plans for returning to society were formed when Mark Flem-> ing, my nephew, appeared and his actions made mc alter them. Fleming came to mc for money, which I refused to advance, and am afraid, that with sharp words I roused his worst feelings, and he departed in a perfect tempest of anger. Later the same night he returned and smothered in his bed what he believed was myself—his uncle. " I wa3 saved, however, another dying in my place, but all the same, Fleming is a murderer. "My old coachman, who was very ill, indeed dying of old age, was by Saundersv with- my consent, placed in a bedroom next to my own. Mark Fleming, when seeking his victim, saw the faint night light in the ropm, the door being ajar, and taking my ooachman for myself, he, with a pillow, pressed th« feeble spark of life from his body, leaving on the corpse - no incriminating mark. His mistake need not be wondered a-t, as he had only seen mc twice in twenty years, and on these occasions the interview took place in the darkened- diningroom below. He expected to see mc in a weak state, fox. only .a. ffi'vy. hours previously I had acted to perfection the part of a weak old man standing on the brink of the grave. In this he helped my purpose for he enabled mc to bury the squire, appear as Brent, see my son, and punish Mark Fleming. " The doctor who had ben attending the old coachman contented himself with a casual glance at the body, and testified that death was due to natural causes. I had, however, to make a confidant of the doctor before I could have my servant buried in my name." "As I had a supply of coffins in my possession it was an easy matter to stuff one with bricks and bury it as containing the body of my old servant. But Saunders and myself dressed up his body, and it passed as my own, and was buried in an oaken casket, with much of that pomp due to a Squire of Dunswold; while I became Charles Brent and appeared in society to make the acquaintance of my son. " Regarding the estates, they were mortgaged by a mutual arrangement between my brother and myself for speculation in a certain business which was very profitable. After my brother's death I redeemed the bonds 3 and by way of punishment to Mark Fleming I had the bonds renewed in the name of -Charles Brent. The transaction was carried out by Mr. Pickering and Mr. Akers, who were, of course, in the secret. And now my long explanation is ended, and I hope my son you are not ashamed of your father." " No, I am not," answered Roy, quietly. "Why should I?" By this time the sunlight had faded from the sky, and the summer gloaming was giving place to night. A servant brought lights, and lighted up the room, and the somewhat gloomy thoughts engendered by the recital of Montford were dispersed. The old man had shown but little feeling during his explanation, but had spoken in a clear, hard voice. The recital had, however, told upon him, for he showed unmistakable agitation as he turned to Madam Despard and said: "You. can only condemn mc, madam, for allowing passion to influence my actions as I did, and to behave a a only a

madman "wtrald have done..' I once said I would never ask forgiveness, biifc I do now." : .' '"■ >■.. ' ; '--_ " -• - ; "Mr. Montford; I knew you to be» man of strong passion's, one who rarely, acted as other ment. act; , therefore youjr deeds cannot: b& measured by the ordinary standards. But the., past is. gone; why 3hould we. rake up its"ashes? I confess that my own. actions were moved, by a desire for vengeance, my intention being when Roy had passed/ his twenty-first to compel you to acknowledge, him before the. world as. your lawful son, hence much of the "mystery. You will,. I know, make all the amends in your power now, and I forgive you freely, as I know my sister would were she here to-night." The old man bent his head, but did not speak/ and a brief silence followed, which was broken by Dalton saying: " Rather clever about the mortgages. I do not quite see how you managed it." " Nothing easier. - merely had the old bonds revived and transferred to Charles. Brent. It was only a case of cheques passing between the two lawyers," he answered. "And what of Mark Fleming?" asked Dalton, who appeared to be the only one capable of speech. " He has got what he deserves," replied the old man. "He is my sister's son, villain though he be. Not wishing that further shame should fall on the race of Montford I dealt with him. My son's future must, not be blighted in its youth. I saw Mark Fleming in London, when I gave him the option of leaving the country or taking the consequences of his crime. He chose the former, and is out of England. I settled sufficient money upon him, well—to last until his wasted life finds an untimely end. His punishment is increased by the belief that it was his uncle's life he took in this house. This thought will never quit his mind, and I have even yet sufficient of the devil in mc to pray that the ghost of his crime may hover round his death-bed." " But, Mr. Montford, he will, when you resume your proper name, learn that he has been duped." " No, Mr. Dalton, he will never learn that. My old servant died in my stead. He gave his life for mc; it was all he. could give for his master, He has been buried as Richard Montford, and as such let him sleep. I will not again resume the role of Squire of Dunswold, but live the remaining years of my life as Charles Brent, and be buried under that name. There is uo one living who knew mc as Montford who could recognise mc." In vain Madam Despard, Roy, and Dalton urged him to resume his right position, but he positively refused to listen to their reasoning, answering emphatically, "No." After a brief silence he again spoke. ■• Aiariv Fleming never really took possession of the estates, Pickering threw many difficulties in the way, nor have the death duties yet been paid. Roy shall at once come forward and as the son of Richard Montford claim the estates to the exclusion of Mark. Fleming. A long pause, and he added: This day has tried mc more than I believed possible, and, if you will excuse mc, I will retire for the night." Next day Madame Despard returned to London, an important engagement preventing her further stay, but Dalton and Roy remained. They had much food for thought, much to talk of, and Roy was making the acquaintance of his father, a task which he found not unpleasant. Brent—for so we shall continue to call him—-taking the utmost pleasure in showing Rpy_ over the estate and' the , house.' ■' He tbld him rijany a. chapter of family history, and pointed out the art treasures the mansion contained, but nothing either Roy or Dalton could say would induce him to again appear as Richard Montford. He was certainly a singular and eccentric man, this, his whole history proved, while he had lately thrown off many of his former <;herished beliefs he still clung to this last idea that he would remain Charles Brent with a tenacity which could not be shaken. During the twenty years he had shut himself up in Dunswold House, the hereditary trait of his race, love of gold, had developed 'to a marked degree, but since he had assumed the name of' Charles Brent he became free, even lavish in his expenditure. As Jim Dalton said: "To judge this man by any given standard was impossible." One thing, however, which the old man did not omit, and that was to instruct Mr. Pickering and Mr. Akers to do all that was necessary to assert his son's rights, and to prove in the usual formal manner that Roy Sinclair was the lawful son of Richard Montford. On the Monday morning the three were seated at luncheon in the diningroom, and Mr. Brent, whose spirits had revived wonderfully, was treating his 3<*oung companions to a few of his cynical sayings, which they appeared, to enjoy. Suddenly a footman entered the room, and handed Roy a telegram which had just arrived. Hastily he took the telegram, tore it open, and read as. follows: " Come to town by first train. Terrible accident. A case of life or death. " Arthur Leicester." The telegram was certainly sufficiently startling, and Roy's cheeks blanched as he read its contents. "What can it mean?" he asked, handing the paper to Dalton. The latter read it aloud, then glanced at Roy. The lips of the latter formed the one word, " Sylvia," and Dalton, too, became pale, and the two stared at each other in fear and consternation. Mr. Brent was, however, equal to the occasion, and in his sharp voice, said: "The London express is due in an hour at Headley Junction, there is just time to catch it. Go and get ready." While speaking he had rung the bell, and in answer to his instructions a light trap, drawn by a spirited horse, was at the door in a few minutes. " Wire mc," said Jim as Roy was passing out, and he answered in a, harsh, strained voice, "Yes." In a few minutes he was speeding to the station and toward London. ■ (To be continued next Wednesday:-)