VICTOR MOREDANT; OR THE LOST SHIPS.

Clutha Leader, Volume I, Issue 37, 25 March 1875, Page 7

VICTOR MOREDANT; OR THE LOST SHIPS.

A TALE OF FIFTY YEARS AGO. CHAP. XXX. A BTRANGET JOURNEY TO BEECHWOOD. We cannot imagine anything more dreadful than the state or mind of a criminal flying from justice — flying from the scaffold — and such was now the position of James Menzies, «s in his disguise he skulked through the streets of Glasgow, starting at every sound and seeing in every passer-by an officer ready to lay hands on him. Complete as was the disguise he had assumed, he had not confidence in it. Se could not believe that it would effectually conceal him, and it was not till he met people who ought to have known him quite well, but who passed without the slightest sign of recognition, that he grew calm, and a little hopefnl of escaping from the town. Julia said what she could to encourage him, but one or two circumstances made her secretely uneasy. His red, bushy whiskers accorded ill with his grey wig and apparent age, while, notwithstanding her many hints, he walked with an erect form and too vigorous a step for an old man. His obvious nervous agitation was also calculated to draw attention, but by taking the most obscure byepaths which could be found they at length gained the S uburbs without being molested or even particularly noticed. The suburbs of Glasgow at that time were nothing like so extensive as they are now. Town and country met abruptly, and were united in a comparatively sudden way, without the graduating influence of those long lines of villas and gardens which at present connect the streets with the fields. Neither did the city spread itself out in such large proportions. In less than an hour, therefore, the fugitives were fairly outside of it, and James Menzies began to breathe more freely. Traversing now the long solitary road they were free to converse as ihey chose. Yet they spoke very little, and for a mile at a time would trudge on absorbed in their own silent thoughts. The subject "for each of them was, no doubt, the present and future, and the thoughts that arose regarding them must have been foreboding to the one and bitter to the other.

Menzies had the shuddering thought to bear that he was within the noose of the hangman's halter, which might ere long be destined to strangle him out of existence, before the gaze of ,a multitude of pitiless spectators. He was by no means sure that he would escape that doom.. Though he had succeeded in leaving Glasgow, the hu= and cry would immediately be raised and search made for him everywhere. He would be hunted like a wild beast, a price set upon his head ; it would be the interest of every one to discover and capture him. What a fearful kind of existence was this to endure. Still, life is sweet, to most people on almost any terms, and Menzies was ready to endure any privation if only he might escape the death to which his crime exposed him. Then, even if he did succeed in permanently eluding the officers of justice, his social and commercial career was terminated. He could never again show face in Glasgow, never again en- ; gage in business. No more would he j buy and sell and get gain. What a prospect for a man to face. Little wonder if its contemplation kept him gloomily silent. And the silence was one which his companion did not seek to disturb, for she too, had her thoughts to occupy her, and they were bitter, ah bitter beyond description. What had her fraud and her scheming come to ? Instead of the fair and pleasant fruit she hoped to pluck, the result had been apples of Sodom, full of dust and ashes. How much better would it have been for her had she listened to the earnest pleading of Olive, and forgone hm* purpose' to become the wife of Menzies. She scornfully and defiantly rejected that, counsel, and now she was eating the fruits of her own wicked way* -and wassailed with her own evil device. She was the wife of a criminal — of a man who might soon be a convicted felon— a man whose very life the law_' might claim as a tribute due to justice. Truly her wickedness had re.Goiled upon her with crushing power . Yet> with all her faults and her false* hood, there was something of the true woman in Julia Hardinage after all If she did not cherish a wife's love" towards her husband, she yet had the the desire to show him a wife's duty. They had wronged and outwitted each other, but they were united by the most indissoluble of earthly ties, and must now be' bound to each ..other for good and for evil. She would, ~ therefore, make his fortunes her own, and [dp her utmost to save him from the deadly peril in which he was placed. This was the impulse which, sebtfid-J^r at ; thtf moment when.she learned his- position^ it still governed her } ands prompted by it, she had deviseti . the plan-.byj, wnictj they had, got jway £qnx .Qla^gowj That, howaver, was but the beginning of her- design- She meant to find a safe concealment for him at. Beechwood j until' time was had for- deliberation Ori ■ome- future course. . The' secret chano] ber in the old tower would atfor'dTa hiding place sufficient to defy the

minutest search, and to this place^ they! were now making their way. j It was hot and sultry, being -among! the last "days Of July, and the' weight; of their unaccustomed garments caused the sweat to pour from them in streams.! Neither was accustomed to walking such a distance, and soon their legs ached, and their feet smarted with blisters. Menzies felt the grey wig upon his head become insufferable, and whenever they gained a solitary stretch of road, when no one was in sight, he was glad to remove both it and the broad blue woollen bonnet to relieve his burning head and throbbing temples. He did this, however, once too often, and received a fright which caused him rather to bear the pain than run such risk again.

They had come to a level part of the country, where the road run straight for nearly a mile, bounded by a dry stone fence on each side. No person was in sight, either behind or before, and the opportunity was too good to be lost j so, with a long relieving breath, he bared his palpitating head and panting bosom ; but had hardly enjoyed the first sensations of coolness when an ejaculation of amazement, emitted near at hand, caused both to start and turn round to behold the moonstruck face of a herd boy staring at them over the wall.

It was grey and dirty as the wall itself, and hardly, at a first glance, to be distinguished from it. He had been lazily leaning his chin upon the copestone, watching the approach of the seemingly old man and woman, when, to his nnmitiga.ed amazement, he saw the man remove his bonnet and his long grey hair, and reveal thereby a face at least thirty years youn ger, surrounded by bushy red whiskers.

" Michty me," ejaculated the bucolic youth, in the extremity of his amazement, to the great consternation of the two pedestrians. In a twinkling Menzies replaced bonnet and wig, and the pair hurried forward, saluted by another equally astonished exclamation from the wide-eyed boy.

" Govey ding, if ever I saw the like o' that."

It was an important occurrence for Menzies, being destined to bring harm to him afterwards.

They were subjected to one or two other annoyances during their journey, arising chiefly from the tendency of country people to enter freely and familliarly into conversatiun with each other. Thus several times on the road, and once at a wayside inn into which they ventured for refreshment, Menzies found it extremely difficult to sustain the character which his clothes gave him. His only refuge was in silence, and when that was impossible he answered in gruff monosyllables, after a fashion which caused him to be called by more than one indignant accoster, " a sour, cankered, auld carle."

Julia would have come to his rescue if she could, but inasmuch as she was totally unable to assume the Scotch dialect she had to remain even more taciturn than her companion At length her inventive mind suggested an expedient which freed them almost entirely from the annoyance. Thereafter, when spoken to by passers-by, Menzies had an answer ready which invariably served the purpose —

" I'm owre deaf to hear ye, and mj puir auld wife here is dumb."

Twilight had fallen sometime before they reached the vicinity of Beechwood and when at length they came to the boundary of the estate the semi-dark-ness of the summer nip:ht had deepened to its full extent. They were now utterly weary and worn out — hardly able to drag themselves along. But risk and danger are strong incentives to exertion, and when a man is fleeing for his life he will undergo an amount of fatigue which in less exacting circumstances he could not endure. They therefore toiled diligently forward, cheered by the thought that they were now near the end of their journey.

As it was most important that their approach to the mansion should not be Derceived, Julia, who was acquainted with all the bye-paths, led the way through fields where bean blossom scented the dewy air, and new-made hay spread delicious odours, all around) by the side of fir woods; whose rich aroma smelled like spices from " Araby the bless' t," and by the brow of a deep bosky ,dell. where violets bloomed in rich profusion; It was a scene of great stillness and peace, soothing alike to heart and mind, suggestive of rest and quiet yepbse/biit.to the; ;souls..; of; those who now glided stajthijy through it^ its influences found rio avenue. " T?ear and anxiety had sole possession there; Nature's harmony and beauty could find no welcome or response.

The ravine terminated in a dens^ wood, which ran along by the back ojf the .mansion, and under covert of ths trees the pair Wcje able unoeen to, ges j quite close to the building. It ' was now that the mcst difficult fYaYt of thei? task had to be i Accomplished — viz.| access to the house and to the secrep ! chamber in- the tower without th^ i knowledge of the^servantsv This could i be accomplished "only if^ the" private | door was unlocked, the door by which 1 Julia had formerly! g-ainect admission to| the lower portkma-of tbJebuilding, He^ i plan now was u>- gaini admission in this way if possible/ men* to make her waj to • the 'library- and procure 5 the key of ,the door whysl|~gaye , access , to ihe; underground passage. Here she meant

to lodge Menzies in the secret chamber/ and proceed in search of Mr Moredant, Whose ; sanction and co-operation were essential to~her husband^ , , concealment for such a length Of time * as'i might be required. , / . They came with, the, utmost-caution-to the edge of the wood^ where at a little distance, rose the shadow-of the mansion, and close beside it the dark, massive tower, at the ruinous top of which a colony of daws had taken up their abode. These had gone to ' roost for the night, and perfect silence reigned over the scene, save when a wood pigeon, startled by the footsteps beneath, flew with rushing sound from its perch among the foliage. •

There was an open grassy glade to cross, then they were among the shadows of the yews and other densely growing shrubs, safe still from observa tion. By a gap in the lofty mossy wall they crept into the enclosure which connected the mansion with the adjacent tower, an enclosure which Julia knew was not frequented even in day time, and less likely to have a prowler at that late hour. It was commanded b} T one or two of the lower windows, and lest eyes might be gazing from one of these, they kept well within the shadow of the wall till the important door was gained. It was closed, but this was to be expected ; but was it locked ? Julia's hand trembled with excitement as she tried the handle, and the recollection came upon her of the evening not two weeks before when she led Olive in by that same door, that she might treacherously immure her in the secret chamber which they were now so anxious to reach.

The stiff rusty handle went cracking round. She pressed nervously against the door, and to thpir joy it opened.

Once inside and the door carefully closed, Julia led her husband by the hand through the murky darkness, till they gained the other door communicating with the passage to the tower. This was locked, as she fully expected, and here she had to leave Menzies till she made an effort to procure the key, or, failing that, to open communication with Mr Moredant.

Julia had of late traversed these underground regions so often that she had a full recollection of the various turnings which it was necessary to take in order to gain the private stair leading to the library. She could therefore grope her way without much stumbling, and had made a stealthy, silent progress through the basement cellars and other underground places, when to her terror her eye discovered a gleam of light in motion. Instinctively she drew herself into a recess, and had scarcely done so when the butler appeared, carrying a candle end the keys of tbe wine cellar. He came close past the cavity in which she stood, and, trembling with ■' apprehension, she pressed close agains the cold wall If. he observed her the rpsult might prove fatal to her plans. Fortune, however, again stood her friend, for just as she reached the spot, and, when probably another step would have revealed her, he turned a sharp corner into another passage, at the far end of which was the door of the wine cellar. The moment he disappeared within this cob webbed receptacle for nort and shprry, Julia darted noiselessly from the recess, and speeding along gained at length the foot of the private stair. Ascending this she traversed the corridor, and stood with beating heart outside the library door.

The supreme moment in the execution of her task had now come. She listened with intense anxiety, but heard no sound within. If Mr Moredant waß there he was alone.

She laid her fingers on the handle, turned it and pushed the door open. There were no lights burning within — the room was empty.

Believing this to be the < case she glided in, and was advancing to the ; spot where hung the key she wanted, when, to her dismay, a dark form emerged from a bay window at the "far end of the long room and came towards her. She saw at a glance, that the ;figdre, was not that of Mr M/6redant, but "the figure of a younger man, and before shie had time to turn and flee it was • close upon her. - '' • - 'a , " Who are you ?" demanded a voice, , which brought the blood back into her^ face, for she recgnisedit as the 'voice of Victor Moredant. " Hush," she whispered, tremulously. , i( For heaven's sake, speak low." , : -> _ .A dim Kghtfron} , one of the fj westernc .winjdo^s enabled tji'em toseeea^ptner, riot clearly^ J L i ■ r. " Whoiare. yous?_ What.;want moii< here ?" asked ViGtOr r again, withi-the,. same sharpifless- ' , , T \\ Shethreipv back the huge.cpakschftlß bonnet which covered her- . face^ and r ntade answer— ] ' >„ ' , \ lt Tarn she whbmyOu knew as Oiiv|e Moredant, whoih yb'u now know as* Julia HardiWa^eV t^am the wife of James :Menaie>" <-. -i . [ .Victor stepped back a pace, and f 4Jazecl Lai -her. .. in,.spe£ch:lessL.aatftßish: ment i_ , .;, „ ...., : - ( To be-continued. } - {