JUSTICE AT LAST

Auckland Star, Volume XLIII, Issue 75, 27 March 1912, Page 10

JUSTICE AT LAST

(AJ__ FIGHTS KESEEVED.)

E'KDGAK PICKERXSTG.

{itrtiior of "Dick Betcstcrd's Wife, ♦•The Sign of Secreer," "Madame Lorraine's Kev-ngc" "The Vanishing ot George Bartrani,'' etc.) CH...'TEH XV. — (Continued). Perhaps he thought the moment in-or-portune lor declaring bis passion. lb*, in her distress and confe.cn Ins avowal ot lev.- aud pleading for hits in return tniffht fait, for the word die- away ou hxs 1i,.! There was no -hiniry in i~s nature: very utile true sympathy iv his heart, although his v-iee espr-ased it, and a resolution bora of ber extremity came to his mind. ■'I shall never —i.ever forget your goodness to mc/ replied Cynthia, impulsively. "I shall always remember that you trusted mc. I'm a str-inger to you, Lord Woodville; you know nothing about mc. 1 might be imposing on youi generosity."

"Even then 1 shoulJ not regret helping ■you," lie answered. "But we are not strangers, -Miss Williams. W-uid to God I had the privilege to use the name I did just now. That you rebuked mo for using*' "Forg'vo mc if I was angry for that," the pleaded. "You startled mc. Now let mc go." He had retained her hand at parting, and she drew it away sharply. Then she was speeding back to the house, oblivious tn" eiery thought but that the means of reaching Liin'mrgh were iv Iter possession. She must not. linger now, her impatience to be. on her way would not allow her to pass another night under Mrs. Curtis' roof, and she must start .or London at once.

Cynthia's departure irorn Bladcstone Manor bore the appearance of fljg-ht. Mrs. Curtis was i__-ec__'hk'. and Kitty had been take.n to bed as soon us sxJ her mother returned. Mr. Curtis was a negligible quantity, with whom she had only come in contact at dinner, and to take a formal adieu would have invoved _, needless explanation from her.

Having hastily made the few preparations necessary for her journey to town, Cynthia passed softly down the stairs from her room to the hall, giuuewg round as if fen.-ful of be-ng hindered or Etaycd. and not a. pound disturbed the scicnm quietude, and -ivith a cautious hand she unbolted the massive door of the hall. She had acted up t<. this point almost mecjuanically, but as the still night -'r_ fanned her cheeks, the reality of the -if.e-ilties she v,-o_ld encounter came vividry U; her _>ipd, end she hesitated for an instant. Then she \va_ tainting down the g-_ss grown drive and had vanished from sight. Three days had gone by from the time of Cynthia's u-anjinuiieed departure, and Mrs. Curtis nursed he- wrath in silence.

The grim servant of all work was mute also about the di-appearance of Miss KittyV. treating it as merely another of the strange things which had taken place at Blackstone. M-.uior that -he could recollect; but KiUv was in-consoiabi-e. Her mother rebuked her harshly when the little girl demanded to be told why her governess !»._ been sent away, and v,a> openly unbelieving when ilrs. Curtis gave an invented nason.

Indeed. Cyn'lda's rams was not men-ti-red after th. first fruiUe-.; inquiries after her had been m_de until Dick Curtis reutrned to Blackstone Manor.

"\ou may be surprised/ said the step mother to him, "hut 1 crniess nothing Miss Williams could have done would have astorished mc."

Pick did H3t answer, but (Stood looking at Mrs. Curtis darkly.

"She went, off uakmo.-.-n uo anybody,'* Ehe continued, with conceci-sted V_no"m. "Slit doped, and now. pie ise, do not reVert to ihe subject. Richard." He turned on his heel and was walking away when Mrs. Curtis stayed him. "It may be a coincidence—l -.rust it is " she said spitefully, "but Lord Woodvilic has gone away also. 1 have hid a chat with a Mrs. Melford—quite a vice per?on visiting Lady V.'oodville—\cho h_« confirmed my worst suspicions of Miss Williams."' CHAPTER XVT. "HOY,* LIKE EYE'S APPLE DOTH THY BEAUTY GROW." Th--" train in which Cynthia was seated drajged leisurely along amid rocks and fore-t with the glistening Lahn (lowing BUentiy beside its course, scene after scene ~i natural beauty opening to view ea"h moment but of all of them she was unconscious. She had been tr-velling without pause since leaving Blackstone Manor, consumed by a feverish eagerness to reach Limburgh. hope and fear alternating in her breast, and a thousand memories crowding her mind of days not ago in reality, but which seemed far oil in her imagination. Of the other life she had lived, the one of luxury and ea<e. until the present. . xi.stence", tbe true one, was entered upon. Th.- suspense and anguish she had endured we re telling their tale, but her resolute will had sustained her throu.h the last stages of her journey, which was nearly at an end. She cou'.d see the -oary tower of a church high upon a hill, ascending from the river, and b.-neath it nestled Limburgh, lying in its centuries of slumber, and the train had stopped at la.-"..

She was asking a question of one of the railway officials, whose utterance, slow and stupid, fretted her impatience. Th-' Hotel Konrad. Of . certainty one wouclinthftKaisertra.se the Hotel "Konrad nnd,' replied the man in answer to tier inquiry, and Cynthia walked out of the tation quickly. "Would she be too late?" the thoup-t of what may be i 3 always harder to bear than the one certainty, even the r,i..terc.-t. for the unknown holds a -a:.ixy ot possibilities, and Cynthia's heart ;««ned suddenly to have, stopped its wild throbbing as she- came up to th. hotel Goor.

Tho street -was empty of wayfarers, | except herself hut Bt the door of the old-fa-hmncd i_n she s ,, v the figure of a euro wm pIBD-fo* toward, her. and he! had paused in the act of descending the Strn-. - I!" was an old man, whose office had rron-h: him into contact with every P ,,;l I human prief and suffering and endowed him with a kindly benevolence, such a.n priests of another order and cn-d never nbta n. or at least do not ev'm»ir. A humble prariousDess and f.ithrriy tenderness, shown even to a Btran.er who m'jrhi nee I corafort, and Cynthia noted the searching look in his dark ryes. He was speaking to her in a low vukw

"Am 1 richt ia thinking yen are the Er.._::-h lady who has been expected" he p.sked.

1 I received a telegram. Yes. Tell mc If I v-i !n time?"

.She was scarcely able to articulate, |ot ix sudden awful dread iras H3encing

"It was I who sent for you/ be answered. "Con:.-! with mc," and be led the way indoors, Cynthia following him.

Then, with ail n.e compassionate tenderness of his nature, h_ spoke to her, forbearing to pain her more, even by the bint of resignation, for that he knew by long -xperienee must b« waited for. "He spoke ox you. Chargbig mc with a message. A message I was to give you, for lie knew you would ccme to him," said the old man.

Cynthia was sobbing quietly, hearing his voice as from a distance. There wis no need for her now—no eail to urge her 1 i hasten—ao duty to perform, and a souse of weariness c'ich as she had never felt before came over her.

"Will yon iry and realise, my dangliter.'" he ...'[UiaitcJ. "that the parting is only for a time. That you and he will see each other again, and hear each other's voices. It is so wonderful, too beautiful, so true!"

lie was kneeling at the little table, and Cynthia heard the softly uttered prayer that was lor iter comfort and help. And presently »he was alone, trying to think, strivi.-ig to understand. She had received iier father's dying message, and then th-' po-.v-r lo think, or move, or understand, had gone.

A week pa-ssc-1 before Cynthia was able to leave her room. The motherly landlady of the Hotel Ivonrad had watch ed over and tended her, had made light of her ill-e-.s, which. for nl! that, had been nigh untn death. The shock ol hearing of her father's death, coming at the moment of her physical prostration, had brought i " a sharp struggle for life, from whi.'h Cynthia had emerged cor

qtieror, hove - .er.

Site was accustomed now to the fact that she ."id her father would never meet again, but the deep grief she felt only time *old assuage, and by degrees site had regained strength and courage to 100-.- 'he future bravely in th" f:t_e.

She h.id written lo Mrs. Curtis, giving an aoccimi nj her father's death, that to any ordinary person would have been ample reason and excuse for leaving her situation abruptly, but Mrs. Curtis had replied to it in n strain wh«-_ brought a"* wlvnaiitiii to Cynthia's lips.

"I couldu't go back to Blackstone Manor after this" she ur.nnured. "There aro other situations and I'll try to get one. I shall have to, for I've scarcely any money left." aud shs took out her purse, counting tho coins in it.

VVoodville had been generous in his loan, but the expenses of her journey and illness had left Cynthia very little of the mcr.-y. Enough, perhaps, if she was careful, to last -'-.other mouth, and in that time she would do her utmost to get employment. An English governess might very proba_h' get a situation in Oeniiany. and she took the landlady o\ the Hotel Konrad into her cantkenee, who knew very little of such matters certainly, and for that prophesied the more eonCdentlv o: success.

She found relief from her thoughts in waadering beneath the forest trees, and climbing the hills. The soiitude was in tune with her loneliness, and -llewed her mind freedom to range unhindered. The past until that day of her coming to 1-mburga, seemed like a dream —the memory of forming a strangely confused picture, wherein, dear from the misty recollections of London and Blackstone :\la_or, Dick Curtis was always present. His manliness and sympathy and the love that she had read in his faithiul

"I'm doing do v,rong in thinking of h_m," j'le ' old horsnlf. "He will never know that I do, anil we shall never see ouch other a'jain, any nior". He'll believe that I ran arwny—not that he'd blame mc for that, perhaps. Vet I wasn't so very unhappy at the lianor. Kitty ln\i'\ mc and 1 loved her, and he came soi_eti__s3. It was best, that 1 left though -. bert for him and best for roc. for he might have found out. I couldn't ever become his wn"c because I vrouldn't dare to let him share my disgrace."

Sometimes she would rest herself in the little Cathedral perched high on the hill. The cool solemn quietude was grateful after a ramble upon the ascent, and there was the Cure often to be -poken with, lie and she were tamiiiar friends by (his time, and he had promised to help in obtaining a situation . ; or her.

One day. ji:-t as tec setting sun was tinging the distant hills with its magic tints. Cynthia entered the porch of the ancient church, to rest awhile before continuing her return to town. The walk h-id I r. tight a rosy colour to her cheeks. and leaning back against the

i■-. ■•;■• stonework with her clasped hands lehind he;- iicaJ. the raven tresses slightI." disarranged by the breeze, she pre-s'-'ited a virion of beauty unconsciously.

tli gaze --as fixed dreamily upon the landscape, and one of those rare moments of mental detachment from everyday subjects had brought back some of the old light to her piquant features. The pence by which she was surrounded, the environment of bills and verdure, the sacred spot where she was seated, and the vapourous mystic depths within the cathedral, where honied the vesper lamp like some lone star, aJi these combined to enhance the sweet res 2 fulness stealing into her mind. If she couid only b e at peai« for ever thus—waiting foi the lime when hopes and fears and all the eounth - - things that must be done should end—if -"

Then the day dreaming was suddenly disturbed by a footstep coming towards the porch, and Cynthia started from her languorous position lo utter a little cry which was neither fear nor surprise, nor pleasure, although all these flashed into her mind, as she saw Lord WoodviHe standing at the entrance to the Cathedral.

He held out his hands, and Cynthia returned lii 3 salutations with her old impulsiveness, whilst a teeming host of iiieinories confused her.

"V\e found you at last,'' he excL-im-ed. ""and it's worth my search, Miss Williams, to sec you lookin? yourself. I've been .afraid you were ill, or have been spirited a,way from Lirobu-'-gb by the fairies. They believe in :hem here/ 1 arid he pointed downward to the town.

"You knew I-had not returned to Mrs. Curtis," replied Cynthia, infected by —is merry voice.

"I rather guessed scmeihing of the sort," he answered quietly. It was as it he had noticed h«- bia-k dress for the first time, for his Tone changed to seriousness. "1 think you have done wisely by remaining in Umbuigh."

"1 have been ill," she said, "I could hardly do otherwise thin remain. The people here have been very good to me.'' "I have been Slavics -» a town near j here for ."„« past'week," he told her, '■.-.ii,l this i 3 my .thirl visit to Lin-burgh. j And now I'm going to ask a question | which you mustn't mind. What arc your plans?" "I have not any. 'I've a little money left of what you so kindly lent mc, but maybe I shall find employ Trent." "As a governess ajraiD?" "It is the only thin. I am _t for. Yea, 1 am looking out for someone who might want an English govmess. It oughtn't to be so very hard; to find them. If not, perhaps Providence will intervene.''

"Pardon ine," he rep-ied, "tart yon don't see the seriouaa.ss of the case if yo_ fail in getting a- situation. A woman —e-peciaJly one such as you —would _c in a position of danger. I speak plainly because oil that may affect you. _* of tbe utmost interest to mc."

"What should that be?" and the hauteur that enhanced her beauty in Woodville's eyes was in her voice.

"I don't thlnX we need argue that point," he replied, "What I wish to impress upon you is that you clearly can't remain in Limburgh or anywhere else without the means of living. I'm not going to insult you by offering you financial belp_--the money you needed was 'a loan, and I -hall expect a return of it. You required money for a epecific purpose and I ivas Tery pleased to be of use—it was purely a business transaction. You ask why I am interested in your welfare. I hardly think you were required to, but possibly I've deceived myself—nattered myself. Anyway I've a regard for your well-being and happiness that you mustn't reproach mc for."

"Nor do I, but I'll have to light my own battles." she answered. "I've tried to do 30 hitherto."

"And failed. You'll own that. Black"Manor wasn't a success. You were absolutely out of your element there and mie.rable. Come, is not that true?''

"In part." "Don't despise help when it's offered you," he went on. "There are ways in which even I can 'ue of assistance."

They were pacing slowly down the hill by this time, and Cynthia was trying tn feel grateful for his proffered help."Only she could know how much help was required and how darkly tho future bad loomed up before ber lately.

"You expressed « suggestion about the intervention of Providence just now," he continued. "It seems to mo that it has stepped in at the right r-oment, thanks to my finding you. I'm not going to excuse myself; you think I ought to?" i-'or what?" ''I&cau.e I intruded—l read something in your face when \v<> met. I disturbed your meditations and my coming was an intrusion.*' "Indeed 1 never thought that," she exclaimed. "I wns glad. It's awfully lonely for iae in liroburgh—nobody could understand what it means to bo quit* alone as I havo been. Now you'll believe mc when I repeat that I was glad to see you, honestly glad." She had for a brief moment regained some of her old vivacity and her words ciriceived him for they conveyed a wrong impression from their intention.

"Thank you for saying that," ho said, giving her an answering look, and the fierce passionate longing, that was consuming him, making self restraint difficult, had almost gained the mastery. "1 wae glad to sec you. I may "say that now witho_t angering you."

"I'm sorry if you thought I should resent seeing you. who have been »-- kind to mc, when other people were- but need to talk about: myself further? That is bo useless."

"Yet very sincere on my port," he answered, "and you arc qu. > wrong as to its We were discussing the chance of you getting eraployment-a very prosaic subject, but living, in the ordinary sense, is prosaic. The plain humdrum of daily drudgery. I mean, such as you are willing to condemn yourself to, when a far pleasentcr life might be enjoyed. An existence to which you have not been a stranger, unless I ha.-* erred in my judgment. I gather my opinion from a thousand little tokens, in your voice, your your manner." "Which cai-piotes the mystery you are pleased to imagine," she "retorted "I haven't used the word."

"Only thought it. Well, let it be so. VTc were talking of my chances of getting work," she answered, and her harsh expression brought a little laugh from him.

"How long shall you remain in Lirarurgh," ho said, ignoring her last remark.

"Until I can earn my living. Where else can I go? My lajj-Jady i. very good —I am not in her debt. I never shall be."

"Cnl<!ss you fail to obtain a situation, he replied. "How then?"

'".She turned suddenly, looking him straight in the face, aaS _ers hardened.

"I meant you to liave understood mc. What could a defenceless woman do, when she finds herself homeless and starving! I'm not deceiving myself—l've thought it all out, Weighed my chances because I may be that woman. Not different from any others, I suppose, when they know the last hope is gone, and Lfc not worth living." "There's not one woman in a thousand who has your pluck —would dare to say what you have. Yes, 1 understand you."

"1 said it because I want you to understand that I'm willing to accept any way of earning my own living. I 'doubt if I'm strong enough for menial work — that would be the only objection to H."

"We may as well consider the sul'jret in a rational way," he answered drily. "Well stick to the governess idea. I fancy I may be able to introduce you to a friend of mine—she's living near limburgh wit!; >er two liUle children. You might suit each other. Will you allow mc to sec you again!" "Why not!" "For" fear we might quarrel. You'll think that a strange thing for mo to say, but it's the only alternative." "From what?" "That you shall know, but not now. Let mc meet you tomorrow where 1 did to-day." "Yes." They parted at the hotel Jdoor, and WoodviTle felt a pleasing exaltation of spirits as he walked away. "Mrs. Melford told mc the truth, I fancy," went his thoughts. "Cynthia is worth winning, too, at all costs. I'm not likely to ever forget that iook of hers. Yes, she's a nriso I'd give my soul to win and hold!" ' (To be continued daily.)