CHAPTER XIII.

Clutha Leader, Volume XIII, Issue 665, 15 April 1887, Page 7

CHAPTER XIII.

THROUGH GOOD AND EVIL RKPORT. There was little in the upstair rooms of Estmere Court to attract attention. Except for the fine view they commanded over park and country round they were without particular interest, i But' I lingered iu them, as I wanted to extract what information I could from Mrs Payne. It was my first attempt at cross-examination. ' Sir Laurence is separated from his wife, you say V I commenced. ' Yes, sir.' ' Lady Estmere must have been very beautiful when that portrait was taken. Have you ever seen her V •I was in Sir Laurence's service when he married, so of course I have seen her.' • Who was to blame for the unfortunate disagreement, Mrs Payne V She pursed up her,lips.. 'You are very inquisitive, sir, for a stranger. Old servants never pass opinions about their master's business.' ' Quite right,' I said; ' but I feel so interested, after, seeing that picture of Lady Estmere and her chilren—be-, sides, I have heard Lord Roth well speak of them.' 'Then, sir, you had better ask his lordship what you want- to know. Would you like to go up to the tower or shall we return to the young gentleman, your friend f 'One moment, Mrs Payne. Lord Rothwell cannot know what you know about it at all. I should like to hear your account of it.' ' It can be no business of yours, sir. This is the way down.' Mrs Payne was immovable, so I deter mined on a bold stroke. ' Did you like Lady Estmere V I asked. ' Her ladyship was loved by every one •; she was the kindest and best of mistresses. 3 ' Then I may tell you, to account for my questions, that she is a dear friend jof mine. I saw her in "London a, tew I day. 5: 3£o.'

Mrs Payne looked at me with more interest than she had hithertodisplayed. ' Indeed, sir, and how is her ladyship 1 — how is she looking f 1 She must have changed greatly, but still is very beautiful. Her hah' is as white as snow. ' Poor lady ! When you see her again will you give her my respects'? Hannah Jones I was then. She will remember me by that name.' • I will. And now, Mrs Payne, tell rae something more about her and Sir Laurence.' ' There is little to tell, sir.' ' That gentleman down-stairs is her youngest son — ao you see lam not asking from idle curiosity.' ' Oh sir ! that Master Valentine ! No wonder he. was so pressing to see Sir Laurence's picture. Poor young gentleman ! Poor Lady Estmere 1 If she sinned, she has suffered for it' 1 But did she sin, Mrs Payne 1 Was it not all a fatal mistake V Mrs Payne shook her head sadly. 'Tell me all you know,' I urged. 'Those who know Lady Estmere can never believe the slander. You who were with her at the time can tell where the fault lay,' 1 Better. let sleeping dogs lie,' said Mrs Payne sadly. • No, let us know the truth, as far as you can tell it, once and for all. . You loved her— tell mo for the sake of her son. Tell me the exact facts.' ' I would much rather not, sir.' 1 Tell me, bad or good ; we must know or how can we prove it a lie 1 Who were the slanderous tongues that poisoned Sir Laurence's mincH' 1 Oh, sir ! it was not what people said — no one ever breathed a word against her till that moment. It was what Sir Laurence saw himself. He was too noble to listen, even if people had brought him tales. Oh, how could she ! how could she 1 I never would have believed it. But he saw it..' Mrs Payne was weeping bitterly. ' He fancied he saw what aroused his suspicions, that is what you mean, Mrs Payne.' ' No ; he saw it and I saw it too. Oh, '.why was I ever there ! If I had not been there that night, I could believe, as you believe, that her ladyship is a cruelly wronged woman. If ho had not seen, I could have fancied I was dreaming, but we could not both have dreamt it.' She was much agitated, so I begged her to sit down. ' You have told me too much yet not enough,' 1 said. ' Now collect yourself, and tell me everything that occurred.' 'I will, sir. But don't judge her harshly — perhaps she meant no harm. They were old. lovers, I believe—perhaps she still loved him, yet never meant to wrong Sir Laurence. But Sir Lauencc was a proud man, and a severe man, and never forgave deceptions.' She rambled oa a little longer. I said nothing, but waited for the thread of the story. I was very sad ; it was so clear that Mrs Payne believed in Lady Estmere'vS guilt. If I wavered for a moment in my faith, the thought of her sweet refined face, with its true sad eyes, rose before me, and I was stedfast again. l Oh, it was adreadful thing sir ; death would have been nothing to it. Till my last clay I shall never forget Sir Laurence's face that night, when he found tho wife he loved was false to him. But I must tell you how it all happened or you will not understand. They were staying then at the Dower House, a little place, belonging to Sir Laurence, about twenty miles from here. It is a sweet little house, a more cottage compared to this, but they were so fond of each other that I think they loved it better than Estmere Court, For the most part they were alonn there, whilst here there were nearly always visitors coming and going. They fancied the air at the Dower House was better for the children than at Estmere Court, so they would go there and stay for weeks together. Master Laurence, the heir, was about throe years old, and Master Valentine a baby in arms. I was under-nursemaid then, and a giddy girl enough, but I was fond of the children and her ladyship. Them was- a cousin of her ladyship's used to come. on visits, both at the big house and the little one. He was a fair man and in the army. People said that at one time he had been engaged to Lady Estmere.' ' That was Cheshain, I suppose.' • Yes, sir. Cheshaui was his name. A pleasant-spoken man enough when it suited him, but a bad man. Servants find out a man's true character long befara their masters and mistresses do, and we ail knew he was a wicked fellow. To Sir Laurence and to Lady Estmere he was as mild and sweet as he could be, but I have seen him watching them both with the devil looking out of his- eyes, and his teeth set against each- other. He must have been good company, I suspose, for he often stayed with them, and at this time was at the Dower House. One day. Sir Laurence was obliged to go j over to the Court on some business. He started in the morning, intending to sleep there and return the next clay. The children were brought down to wish him good-bye, and see him ride off. II fl kissed them and Lady Estmere, and away he went, as proud and gallant a gentleman as ever crossed a horse. -I am ;ilmo:-;t. ,'!/,h,'irner] to U:Yi you, 1 •-•'*■. but. ynu .-.. .= ;_<irl- •<nd V.y;. w,\\

be girls and boys. There was a young man — he has been my husband now for nearly twenty years — who was i looking after me. He lived in a small i house on the Dower Estate, and his i father farmed it for Sir Laurence. I had promised to meet him that night, if I could manage it, in the garden, so about half-past ten I slipped out. The i children were fast asleep, and Lady Estmere had gotie to her room. It was in the front of the house, and Sir Laurence's dressing-room adjoined it. A carriage-drive, with shrubberies each side, led to the house. The stables 1 were some distance off. Well, 1 met John, and talked to him for about half-an-hour, then wished him goodnight. He did not go out by the carriage-drive, but from the side of the garden, a short cut to his house. I came back again, after seeing him go off. When I got to the front of the house, I heard footsteps doming down the drive — a man's footsteps. 1 was afraid it was Captain Chesham, so hid myself in the shrubs until ho should pass by. But it was not the Captain — it was Sir Laurence. He had come back, instead of sleeping at the Court He must have left his horse at the stables and walked from there to the house. The moon was shining, so I could see him plainly. I was afraid of being caught, so I glanced at the house to see if I could venture to make a run for it before he passed me. There was a light burning in Sir Laurence's dressing-room, the blind was up, and standing in the full light, visible to every one outside, were Lady Estmere and Captain Chesham. Oh, sir! if I had not seen it myself I would never have believed it.' And Mrs Payne quite sobbed. I. said nothing, I felt so bewildered at this direct and unwilling testimony. ' Her face was hidden on his shoulder, s i r — her back turned to the window — her arms were round him and his arms round her, and he was kissing her forehead. I would have screamed to warn them, but I seemed deprived of my senses for a minute, and then it was too late. , Sir Laurence passed me, and saw what I saw. Oh ! I pray I shall never sec a face change as his face changed in a- moment! All the life and brightness faded from it. It became stone, and the look in his eyes was awful. He 'stood watching them for at least five minutes. Had that villian Chesham looked our way he must have seen him. His tall figure stood out in the moonlight, and cast a dark shadow on the white road. Yes, he must have stood there for five or ten minutes looking at the lighted window and the figures standing then;. Then Lady Estmere left that wicked man, and I saw him take the light in his hand, and in a moment the room grew dark. But outside all was light as day, and Sir Laurence still stood a few paces from me like a statue.' ' Oil, Mrs Payne !' I said vehemently, ' you must have boon mistaken. It. was a servant, not Lady Estmore !' ' I wish I could think so. But it was her ladyship. Her wonderful long golden hair was streaming down her back. And she wore the dress she wore that evening at dinner. She always dressed in a style of her own, in peculiar colors ; and I heard the Captain ask her that day to wear that particular dross in tho evening; he said ho. admired it so. I thought nothing of that ; you see, they were cousins and old friends.' It was very sad and distressing ; but again I thought of Lady Esfcmoro as 1 knew her, and Claudine's words, * through good and evil report,' came into my mind. Anyway, I must hear all Mrs Payne had to say. ; What did Sir Laurence do V ' He seemed to come to life at last. Then he gave a hopeless sort of sigh, but 1 saw his eyes blazing. He started forward, and I thought that murder would be the end of that night's work. But he seemed to restrain and check himself, and walked up and down in front of the house for at least half-an-hour. I could not take my eyes off his face.' « And then V , , 'Then the front door opened, and tbe -.Captain came out, and stood in the porch with a lighted cigar in his mouth. 1 thought— l almost hoped— Sir Laurence would kill him, but he strode up to him, and looked him in the face — I suppose gentlemen don't rush at each other's throats like common people. ' " Why, Estmere, back again already !" said the Captain. ' u You villian ! you utter villian !" said Sir Laurence. ' Then [ hoped he would have killed him — I would — but he did not. Gentlemen can restrain themselves, I suppose. It's in the blood, perhaps.' She paused, probably considering the matter. *Go on, please,' I said. ' What next?' . ' He knew at once what Sir Laurence meant. " I can give you the satisfaction dir from one gentleman to another,", ho said. '"Yes," said Sir Laurence, "lean shoot you through fcho heart by-and-bye : but that is a pitiful satisfaction." '..' " You will hear of me at my club," said the captain ; " but remember, Estmere, she was mino long before you J came and stole her from me." '"Oq, at once," said Sir Laurence, "or 3 shall kill you now. Go !" Cap- : tain Ohcsbam raised his hat and went, I r.vrijf m -,he uiGOiili^hr, He mast have

walked ton miles to the nearest town. 1 have never seen him since. After ho had disappeared Sir Laurence cle'nehed his fists and woiit a few steps after him ; then he returned, and after walking to and fro for soiile time longer he threw himself down on a grassy bank, and 1 heard him sob as I never heard hum ail being sob before, Then I ran into the house and went to bed.' ' Is that all you have to tell V 'All, except that I don't think he entered the house at all that night ; he was there in the morning, arid the other servants told mo afterwards that her ladyship, who was the first to greet him, went to her own room looking as they never saw her look before, and shortly afterwards Sir Laurence ordered the head nurse to get the eldest boy's things ready for a journey ; then he drove away with him. The next morning her ladyship and the baby went away by themselves — to London, she said. From that day to this I have never seen cither of them. The servants were all paid off, the houses shut up, and my John's father put in charge of the Court Then I married John, and ten years ago the old man died, and we were told to go on as before, living here and seeing it was kept from harm. I heard that Sir Laurence did try to shoot Captain Cheshain afterwards, but did not quite kill him.' ' He lamed him for life, at least.' ' Yes, I heard that, and was glad of it, for of all villians that ever lived that Chesham was the worst.' I was much distressed at hearing the good woman's tale. What should I tell Valentine 1 That Mrs Payne was speaking in all sincerity, and merely related what she saw or seemed to sec, I could not doubt. It was no gossip of the servants' hall she retailed. By chance she had been a witness of what had made Sir Laurence Estmere repudiate his young wife. I questioned her to the best of my ability, but found always the same clear narration of the facts. It was what she had seen herself. There could bo no mistake about that. Yet, in spite of this, she spoke in terms of great affection of her late mistress, whom she willingly credited with every other virtue under the sun. 1 What other servants were in the house at the time?' 1 asked. ' There were three maid-servants besides the head nurse and myself, and her ladyship's maid. It is but ft small house, so only a few servants wore needed.' ' What was her ladyship's maid's name 1 ? Can she throw any light on it? 1 ' Mary Williams was her name. I have not heard anything of her for years — she went to the bad, I think. But she knew nothing about it. No one knew except me. I kept my own counsel, and should never have told you, sir, if you had not pressed so, and .said, as Master Valentine's friend, you would know. I have never been a scandal-monger.' ' I am sure you have not, Mrs Payne.' ' No, sir ; all the servants gossiped, of course, but I told them nothing. You will give my respects to poor Lady Estmere, sir 1 Hannah Jones, remember.' ' But can you believe she forfeited her husband's love and the position she held as his wife for such a wretch as Chesham 1 You say she was everything that was good.' ISo she was, sir. Everything. I could have believed nothing except my own eyes. I have told you what 1 saw.' 4 1 have reason to believe that Lady Estmere has never spoken to Chesham since then. That docs not look like a mad infatuation.' ' No, sir, it doesn't. But the captain was a wicked, wicked man. Whatever he persuaded her ladyship to was for the sako of revenge, not for love of her.' i Poevenge V • Yes, because lie was engaged to be married to her once. It was all broken off before she met Sir Laurence, yet he revenged himself for it by ruining her. He was a devil ! I believe he stood at that window with her, knowing that Sir Laurence might return any moment.' 'How could he know that? Was Sir Laurence suspicious V 'Suspicious! No, sir. He trusted jier ladyship entirely until that moment. This is what makes me say it was revenge. A few days afterwards John — my husband now — told me a strange thing, which I have often thought of since. In the morning, when Sir Laurence started, he met John's father about three miles from home. He stopped and asked him something about the farm ; then, as he rode off, he called out, " If you go up ! to the house tell them I have changed my mind, and shall ride back to-night. I shall be home about half-past ten or eleven." The old man was going up to give the message, when he met the captain. To save his old legs the walk, he told him what Sir Laurence had said about returning, and Chesham promised to make it known at the house. Now, sir, he never said a word of this to any one — certainly not to her ladyship, or she never would have (stood at the open window with him just when her husband should return. ; Yet he knew it, and brought her there i £or, I believe, the very purpose that

I Sir Laurence should see them.' 'It is impossible; it w'duld be the act of a fiend, not a man 1' ' That Chesliam was a fiend. Oh) I could tell you things I heard about him afterwards j but it wduld do no 1 good.' I should haVb scouted the tale 1 as Absurd, had I not remembered the bitter, cold-blooded malignity the mart hatt shown during his interview with Valentine. ' But Sir Laiirence .should liavb beeh told this,' I said. 'He was gone } sir. We did not know where to find hiuii Besides, as far as I could sde* It would have done her ladyship no good. It might, if possible, have made $ir Laurence more bitter against the captain, but 1 expect that was not needed, sir.' I was greatly relieved by the last piece of information extracted from Mrs Payne. Wild as the thought was, it pointed to some diabolic plot on the part of Asmodeus It was hard to imagine a nature so remorseless or a motive so strong as to have successfully worked out such a scheme. All speculation failed as to surmising how any ingenuity could have mude Lady Estmere an unwilling participator in it, but to my mind nothing was so impossible or improbable as the idea of her stooping from her height for the love, the momentary love, of a Captain Chesham. There was something yet to bo discovered, and as I rose and followed Mrs Payne downstairs, I vowed I would, for Valentine's sake, and for his mother's sake, devote myself to the elucidation of the mystery ; and how delighted Claudine would be if, eventually, I discovered the truth ! , i • i ! \ I i . i