HER CHILD.

Auckland Star, Volume XLIII, Issue 296, 11 December 1912, Page 10

HER CHILD.

By GUNBY HA2DA.TH.

CHAPTER "STI.

TEE CHORDS OF MEMORY. In hip study in Bniton Street. Mr Justice 1.0r.n sat frowning at his books. The C'uun- hid risen, and his confreres had all left town with tho exodus of fashion,; but we grim old judge wis a childless J widower and had no intercut., save those of his profession. Kis work upon the Bench and hio .york anion? his book? ma... all -hat he asked of life. He neither sough: nor wanted more. "vVith h.s blinds dr.iwn to exclude the burning c in. and a legion of legal notes p-_tcJ upon his table, tossed upon his ciairs, and carpeting th? floor around hrm. the old man sat and knit his brows. Afl, abstruse point in criminal jurisprudence was the subject of his thoughts, and had obviously arrested him in the completion of some task, for his qnill had dropped from his hand and the writing tin. the paper before hrm had ceased in the middle of a line. Something was purziinc Sir James. A gentle tap sonnded on his door, but he paid no attention to it. it was repeated a little more insistently. "Come in!"* he bade, testily. A manservant entered, closed the door behind him and advanced with noiseless sttips to the writing table. -~~l beg your pardon. Sir James, but £ young lady is inquiring for you." "For mc, Parker." "If you please. Sir James." "You toid her I was not at home." The well-trained servant hesitated. "Well, if you piea_-e, sir, I did say so, at first, sir." -Well?" snapped the old man, testily. "But if you please. Sir James, she seeried so upset and wretched, sir " Sir James frowned at him, ___j 8 shagr eyebrows twitched irritarbly. 'That 1 told her, sir, I'd just go and snake sure." "What name, Parker?" ''She wouldn't give no name. sir. Bat 6be begged to see you, sir, on a matter of life and death, she said."' "You knew that I was busy, Parker?" "Yessir." "And you know that I never permit myself to be. disturbed at this hour." '"Yessir." "Then tell the lady that I cannot see her. Ask her to write for an appointment. And to state the nature of her ■business in her letter." "Yessir." The man wheeled round, and departed noiselessly. But in a moment he had returned again, with agitation on his features. •'1 beg your pr-.rdon, sir," he gasped. "But she's quite a young girl, sir, and when I returned she wouldn't leave the bail. sir. She insisted on seeing you, sir."' Sir .Tames rose angrily, but as he did so he heard a little cry behind the astonished senrant. and a girl broke into the room. Her long hair streamed behin.i her, and her hands were stretched out. to trim imploringly. She picked her way through the volumes on the floor, till she stood beside his table. "Oh. please. Sir Jamts," she cried, and -.vailed for his answer. "But this is most extraordinary." said Mr. Justice Lonn. searching Nan's features with his keen eyes; "this is an outrage, my young lady. I cannot see you now. There—there —get up, pray."

For N.in had fallen on her knees, and was clasping his hand in hers. Parker, waiting at i ho door, began to blow his nose vigorously. "See." she murmured, 'T am begging you. Sir James. You cannot turn mc a•>- • - until you have heard my story." "ParK-r!" ■ The o: man's tones rang gruffly. "Parker!" he repeated. "Yessir." "Go. And close the door behind you." Then Mr. Justice Lonn raised Nan to her li t-t. and clearing the chair beside him from the books that littered it, he bade her _ .urteously to be seated. "Now collect yourself, child," he said, standing over her with grave regard. "And tell mc why you've come, as quietly and as plainly as you can, please." Mr. Justice Lonn had looked very terrible to Nan when she had last seen him in the full majesty of h!3 great wig and scarlet robes. She found it hard to realise that the dreaded figure on the Bench had been no other than this grey, rather tired old gentleman who had jnst placed a chair for her, and was waiting quietly for her to speak. It flashed across her that Justice had become Hnmanitv at last. i-I will" tell you very plainly, sir," she said, "you need not fear that I shall break down or become hysterical or give Tc_n any trouble in that way. Somehow. _ jlon't—l dont seem afraid of you like this." A grey smile appeared at the corner of« his lips. He was thinking that at least the child was brave, and very pleasant to behold. In a vague fashioh her features seemed familiar to him. -""Have I seen you before?" he asked. ''Yes. Sir James. For two days last March in Court I never took my eyes off- vou —I couldn't." Sir James frowned again, and picked hfs quill up from the spot where it had fallen. " I remember," he said, a little stgrnly. •'•When a woman was tried before you, Sir James, and sentenced to penal servitude,"' Nan went on in quiet ttnes. '■ She was my sister." " Yes. I thought so; when I saw you in Court." he murmured. " She was my sister, Sir James. And she was innocent. But oh—don't stop mc. please " for she marked how his frown had darkened. " I'm not here to argue that. I'm here because she's dyins. Sir James."

- Do you see that bookshelf, child? Would you mind bringing mc the third volume from the end on the second row? No-.v give it to mc, please. Thank you."

For despite her brave bearing, the. shrewd old judge was fearing that the girl before him might break down unless he devised some little task to divert her and stir her interest. The book she I brought him was a bound note of his ' ases. '- And now pull up one of those blinds. my dear," he added, " and let a little light in." She marked the kindli-tess of his address aad her heart began to flutter, w-tue he ran his finger down the paaes of i 315 notes. ° ». " I°n c ~ elrfc . on aftear a " 1 have all the particulars here. But you I dont come to debate the question of tne lury-s fe-____ g . That is closed, ..ail,.. The Home Office have «b_STt__* ___£. fere. -- It's her life, Sir James." 3_i_ feiisd to understand her;

(AUTHOR OF "THE MAX AND THE MAn).".

" Her life, child! She is well cared for at Avlesburr."

" Sir James, do you remember how my sister begged for her child?"

A little twitch of pain passed over the -item, grey features. " Yes, she cried for it in Court—l shall never forget," he answered simply.

" But you thught she was acting a part ?"

Tho twitch of pain returned; it was there still when he answered:

" I did. And I pray I was not ."wrong." Nan had risen and was pleading passionately.

"You were, Sir James. Her child was all her life to her. And she is dying now because they will not give him back to her. Ln plain truth, she is dying."

And then in simple words Nan told him of the danger which threatened her sister's life, of the pitiable condition in which she lay, of the bitter need that her child should be restored back to her. He listened without comment, but now and then at some period of her narrative he touched her shoulder gently. CouJd this be the man -who had pronounced that ruthless judgment upon Janet Denvil ?

And when Nan had finished Sir James sat for some minutes, deep in the same silence, regarding her under his shaggy eyebrows. She supposed that he was pondering the case.

But had she been able to read the mind behind that impassive mask, she would have trembled in a dim alarm. For the thoughts of Mr. Justice Lonn had bridged the gulf of many years. He was recalling a summer afternoon, just such a summer's day as this, when he had been a struggling barrister, but rich in love. A day whereon he and his young wife had first shared a secret very sweet together, one that She had told him shyly, while he kissed her with a tenderness that welled from some newlyspringing source. His eyes, had dimmed., his throat had choked a little, he remembered, as , she told him. And then they had spoken in tremulous whispers of "their cttfld. Their child, they hoped, would be a the autumn had come, and the winter, and the day when snow .ell softly en the grave in which James Loan was "burying hope. With a broken heart he had bowed his head and come from it knowing that neither daughter nor wife was hereafter to be his. Success had sought him with the years and honour and respect, but tod alone had brouaht forgetfulness. And slowly the stricken heart had hardened. And slowly the fonts of pity had dried. But while the world *»• «3** t ££ Sir James Lonn had no heart, tb« never fell a summer which brought him Z„ of that July noon on which £i shy secret. Ntver a July but he called the recollection back, to tear his wound afresh. His mind drew pictures of the daughter whom Heaven should have given bun. "Now she would he so she would be so tall," he had told binsdf each year. "To-day it would have been her birthday." He. had thrust the memory from him, turning fiercely to the task of every day. Nar was waiting, but still Sir James sat silent. Her sweet, child face was plavino- on every chord of memory. He was thinking how brave sho was, how transparently pure and brave. He wondered if his daughter would have had hair like hers? Would his child's voice have rung so sweetly? His eves passed from Nan at last to his books and the familiar room. How dull, how dark, how lonely it .seemed. What a dungeon of a place! Hra hand went to the cord of the blind behind him; he picked it up to let a flood of sunshine in. All the room was in sunshine now. What gold her hair was! Just the colour of that lock he kept "Are yon unwell, Sir James?" He started at her voice, while she bent anxiously beside him.

"No. child." he said gruffly, but caught her hand in his. "I think I feel a little faint, ,I'm getting an old man, you see, and this room's close. There, open a window for mc. No, never mind; well ring for Parker." But he was hungering for the sight of her as she did this little task for him. Just so, he told himself, he could have spoken to his daughter. "Shall I ask for a glass of water, Sir James?" "No, come here beside mc. How old are you, child?" "Seventeen," she answered, simply. Then slowly he drew from her the' story of her life. She found herself recounting it without embarrassment, with the feeling that she spoke to an old friend. He had taken her hand again, and was patting the little palm with his grey, old fingers. "She'll die, you tell mc," he asked abruptly, returning to the object of Nan' 3 visit, "unless her child can be retored for her?" "She is dying now. Sir James." "And what medical authority have you for believing that her child may save her life?" She repeated the opinion of Dr. Jack. "A tall, plain young man?" he queried. And suddenly Nan remembered the passionate words which her friend had hurled from the body of the Court to the kind old gentleman beside her. "Oh, sir," she began, "he is the best man in the world. He was distraught when " But he stopped her with a gentle pressure of the, hand. "I know, dear," he nun-mured, "I know. I've forgiven him a very, very long time ago. Do you know how long ago?" He was smiling strangely. "No," she faltered. "The ages and ages ago since you came into this room, my dear. For a very much longer time than any clock shows has passed since the sunshine sent you into mc. Now, listen. If that plain young man has passed that opinion, I will take his word for it against the word of all the prison doctors in the land. But you must never, never let anybody know I said so. Fancy one of His Majesty's judges declaring such a thine!"

He laughed; it was the first laugh of happiness which had passed his lips for forty years. Parker, enterin_t that moment with the tea-tray, almost dropped it in astonishment.

Tiave you brought some cake and— ?_!_-. fiOTt of thin & barker?" •voJ T ? axdon > sir; I never bring laS«tsas__s3Ba

"Yes, sir," ejaculated Parker, and fled. Burt he returned four minutes later with a second cup and saucer, a large cake, and several fancy buns. He placed the afternoon table at Sir James' elbow, and was retiring sedately. "Parker!" "Yessir." "Ladies always ponr the te* ou.t,.Plact the table by Miss Ogirvie." (To be continued daily. V