KATE HOWARTH'S DEVOTION.

Cromwell Argus, Volume XLIII, Issue 2286, 26 February 1912, Page 2

KATE HOWARTH'S DEVOTION.

Copyright.

By the Author of “The Heroine of the Mill,” Etc. PART 9. CHAPTER X. —(Continued.) The express on on the viscount a face had been one of perplexity and gloom. Notwithstanding hia sottish condition, his countenance began to brigivten as the lady proceeded with weighty volubility, until a t last he cried : “ You were right, as you always are. Ido not know where the boy has been carried, but I have despatched a messenger to find out. When I have discovered I shall send for you, and what you propose will b* most rigidly carried out.” And then there followed a conversation which greatly relieved Lady Northenden’s mind, although she knew her lord too well ever to believe implicitly in everything he said. “ But then,” she said, with an incredulous smile, ” how came you and Poison to disappear 7 You have not yet told me that.” ” That is easy enough,” he answered. ” I could not eat the chicken, so I told Poison to take it to the child of his that is ill, You know he lives in the stables, being a married man. I let him out by the wicket door there in the paddock. That was once the paddock for our thoroughbreds, until we got that wa!l built. The explanation is simple enough, you see.” “ \ s,” hesitated the lady. "It will be simple enough when you have told me how you left the room.” ” Oh, that is simpler still,” he laughed ; and she thought there was a touch of uneasiness in the tone. “ I followed by that same door. I crossed to the breakfast-room while yon stood for an Instant by the great window.” ”It is strange !” she said. ” And yet—” " What ?” ” Nothing,” she returned ; for it struck, her that unless he had seen her toy the window he could scarcely have given an explanation so accurately. " 'Trn it seems to me,” she went on, in a disappointed tone, “that it,.,--, are no secret places in this gr nd old horse, after all ?” " The Lords of Northenden have never concealed anything of that kind from their ladies,” her husband went on. ” I should have initiated you before,” he continued ; ” but the fact is, we have not been so friendly late!y.” “ Let that pass,” she said, genially, confident now that he was about to satisfy her curiosity. ” After all,” he said, “ there is nothing much to disclose. You perceive, my love —” “ You may omit those words,” she interrupted. ” I know their value. Let us get to the secret chambers.” ” Very well,” be said. ” You see those glass doors,” and he indicated two sections of shelves enclosed by a glass case.” ” Yes.” ” Well, you perceive when I turn the key, the left leaf opens, and I take out a book, which proves conclusively that that section is what it appears to be. The right portion, however, is deceptive. These richly bound books are merely bac'w of broks fixed upon a flat door under the glass covering, opening in the usual way when I press this little steel plate in its edge, which contains the orifice in which the bar of the lock in the genuine half is shot and as he spoke Lord Northenden pressed the small plate, and the door swung open, disclosing a stone chamber of about fourteen feet square, which was quickly lit up by the lamp on the table opposite. “ You perceive,” he proceeded, “ no luxurious hiding-place. This is merely a strong-room, whose existence is not suspected by the servants. There are two iron-bound boxes, which contain deeds and other valuable family documents ; three tin cases containing matters of less value, and two shelves laden with musty papers of no particular use, so far as 1 know.” “ But what is this —or rather where does this lead to ?” inquired Lady Northenden, putting her hand upon a piece of masonry about four feet in height built up against the left wall of the private room. ” Oh, that,” he said, carelessly, “ covers the staircase which leads to some secret passages and unused vaults. One of these passages leads a long way underground to the high bank of the river below which the Blackwater Mill stands. In 1747 my ancestor, Sir Lyulph Hoghton, who espoused the cause of the Pretender, being sought for here by the Royalist troops, escaped from the house by this way, I shall show you through it and the others some day. At present 1 am rather tired, and some letters must be written for the last post.” Lady Northenden looked thoughtfully down the dark gulf, which descended something like a ship’s companion under its hood. Then she slowly surveyed the whole surroundings, and calmly left the earthsmelling apartments before her lord. " You have gratified me very much,” she said, ” and I am much -- obliged to you. We will go all through these supteranean bassages some day together, when I have no doubt I shall be interested. In the meantime 1 feel tired, I must haf some rebosc. Never mind. When the messenger comes about the boy, blease let me know'. And now gootnight. Berhaps after this we might get on very much better.” " I am sure I hope so,” said his lordship. ” I have tried to make ametrds for the Injury—” ”We will say no more of that,” cried his wife. ** Goot-nigbt.” And she turned as she reached the door opening into the hall. ** he said.

Failing the French maid, who had not yet arrived, Lady Northenden had enlisted in her personal service a very smart upper housemaid. This girl, on this night, was instructed to bring her mistress information when his lordship went to his private apartments. At twelve o’clock the information was brought with the unsophisticated addendum, “ And oh, ain’t his lordship tipsy !” This, of course, would have been the cause for reproof under other circumstances. Ladv Northenden was so full of her own thoughts that she omitted this duty—indeed, the information assured her of that freedom of action for which she had been praying. Dismissing the girl she prepared to carry out her plans, when she unaccountably fell asleep. Two o’clock was striking on the turret clock when she awoke, and some time more elapsed before her fire burned up agaln and she was thoroughly warm. Then she donned a long robe de charabrc of white cashmere, trimmed round the sleeves and neck with oorno soft white fur. Her dark hair and dazzling complexion were seen to greater advantage in this costume and as she raised her globe-protected lamp on high, she might have been taken for some heroic vestal virgin but for the mature rotundity of her form and limbs and the deeply passionate fire glowing in her great dark eyes. Silently she crossed the room and opened the door. All was still. She hurried along the corridor and came out upon the floor of the picture gallery to find a flood of pure bluish moonlight streaming in through the stained-glass windows. A finer effect was seen when she reached the great staircase. The bright moonbeams were floating in a thousand tints of crimson, green, yellow and sapphire upon the wide hall, the silent men in armour, the bright steel swords, spears, and battle-axes which went to make the family trophies affixed to the neutraltinted stone walls and the fine, lofty columns of porphyry. Bent upon a mission of great moment, this woman was unconscious of the wonderful kaleidoscopic effects of which she formed a part. Hurrying on she entered the library, and halted before the secret entrance we have already seen opened. The key was in the lock —the only misgiving she had, fortunately, removed by that fact. She opened the door, pressed the steel plate, and saw the false shelves' revolve back. Entering the strong room, it struck her that there must be some way of closing these doors from the inside. Her eye fell upon a kind of lever fixed to the interior, by the means of which, after bringing the edges of the doors together, she drew them close effectively, the little bar of the lock entering the orifice in the steel plate. Satisfied that she was locked in she looked around and perceived that, the moonlight penetrated the room from the windows opposite. . She then found a space from which the eye could command the whole library. It appeared to be over the tops of the false books ; but to prevent the eye being discernible from the other side, a board of ah least six inches wide kept the face from approaching too near the glass. This was a fortunate discovery' vj>ut not what the lady had come in search of. Turning to the staircase leading below, she cautiously descended, hesitating step by step until she was certain that no noxious gases were present. After a time she was satisfied with her search. She expected to find a well-furnished room underground. She found nothing but empty vaults, and long, mysteriously ventilated, sepulchral-smelling passages. Shuddering from having surprised a small regiment of wild-looking rats she precipitated her retreat, and had almost reached the top of the steps before she perceived that another light than that supplied by the moon shimmered on the iron-bound boxes from the space left in the false bookcase. There was a light in the library, and a man. Her heart beat rapidly, and yet not from fear. She told herself that the man must he her husband, and she never feared hind. Placing her lamp on a low step, she noiselessly ascended and approched the “ spying ” place. Lord Northenden attired in a dres-sing-gown stood near the table, swaying as drunken men only can while still keeping their feet. In his right hand he held a bottle on high, and in his left a tumbler, into which he poured some strong yellow liquid. “ Cognac,” she whispered to herself ; and then she saw him pour the potent raw spirit into his mouth. He had been muttering before, now he commenced to talk aloud. With every sentence his voice grew louder and harsher, and still he kept swaying about and leaning very much over to one side—very much after the manner of a captive balloon bending before the breeze. ” Curse her, and her impertinence ! Why does she interfere 7 She has wronged me beyond all forgiveness, let me tell her that, and I am about to be done with it.- ‘ Confide in servants,’ she said. Confound her ! I’d rather believe in them than in her ; and who the deuce is she, eh ? Who is she ? Why, only a servant. I took her from the kitchen myself and I ought to know — bless 50U, I ought to know. Ha, ha ! Ho, ho, ho!” Here he broke off in his delirious laughter, as his eye fell upon the bottle. ” Ha !” he cried ; “ would you grin at me ? Would you dare to whisper to me of the gallows ? Who are you —who are you ? I don’t kiaow your grinning 1 face. Ah ! Would you—would you ? Don’t attempt to tear me to pieces ! If you do I’ll have revenge—do you hear ? —revenge hj” And the madman drank another glassful of raw brandy, capertng weirdly in the pale moonlight streaming into the old-fashioned room. ” Ha, ha ! but this is merry,” he

went on, shaking his strangely-clad head. " Ha, ha ! but tbis is select! There you are, Father Redcap—and you, Bluewing. I don't like your men, Bluewing. They swarm over a man so—over a man so—over a man. Oh, I see 1 The man is here—that's it. The hour has come, and the man is here."

“ ‘ What for ?’ do you ask Father Redcap. You know —to do the deed. What deed, Bluewing ? * A deed without a name,’ good Daddy Redcap. A deed without —no, no, he has no name. And if he has no name, he haa no rj.ght to live, he must die —die ! Ha, ha, ha ! That’s it ! Die, die, die, and be— Hush, hush ! Let mo see I” The listener stood like a stone statue watching her drink-maddened husband. By the light of her own knowledge every word of his ravings was perfectly intelligible to her. All that she waited for then was the denouement. “ Send him to sea,” continued Lord Northenden, “ and trust to luck. No, no ; not such a fool. Never must the life of doubt return. Her way must never be thought of. No, there is but one way out of it—death, instant death. Death levels all, and I am to-night the leveller. “ But how—but how ? Let me see. Ha ! I have it. In that room, in the iron chest in the strong room, s a stylus—a stiletto that belonged to one of the Borgias. The hilt is of jewelled gold, the blade of Toledo •steel, thin as a needle and finely tempered. The point, the rumour goes, was poisoned ; but that charm is gone. Ha, ha, ha ! Never mind; the dagger cannot fall. One puncture and all is over. Now, then, to proceed, and after that we will rest and be at peace.” He approached the secret door, and hla wife fled down the vault stairway, taking her lamp with her Intending to hide in the passage below until he had retired. After a short pause she concluded that he had changed his mind, and returned to the upper chamber. The moonlight how came only from the library. Thinking he had retired altogether, she was about to free herself, when she saw him return, his lamp in one hand and a broad dagger evidently snatched from one of the trophies in the hall. His whole aspect had changed. His face was bluish red, and yet ghastly pale in the hollows. His eyes glared, and he trembled In a way that gave a distinctive name to the delirium arising from drink. “ That is better,” he cried, ” one cut and all Is over,” he whispered, brandishing the formidable weapon in the air, and in the close vicinity of his own throat. Then to his wife’s utter amazement he went over to the window-seat nearest the chimney, on her right hand, and began in an almost helpless manner, as she thought, to feel about the cushion for something he had evidently lost. With an oath of impatience he turned away once more, and began wiping his forehead, upon which great globules of perspiration stood, with the same brilliant yellow, red, and green Indian handkerchief we have seen before. Thrusting this into the girdle of his dressing-gown, he threw the bronze lamp he had placed on the seat so violently on the table as to put the light out, and then with a wild cry he recommenced his research in the moonlight, which had gradually become less bright, as some clouds obscured the light from the moon. Presently the unsteady searcher gave a cry of triumph, and the hidden witness beheld something that puzzled and nearly appalled her. Something like a black shadow seemed to spread over the broad surface of the thickness of the wall in the ancient embrasure, and into that shadow her drink-demented husband appeared to vanish, for in an instant the moon shone out brightly again upon the massive rosewood panel, ami the room was empty. Lady Northenden was too shrewd to hesitate long over an occurrence so supernatural in appearance as this undoubtedly was. Rushing from her concealment she examined the window, but the inside bar was down. She was turning away disappointed, when her sharp eyes caught sight of the fragment of an Indian handkerchief lying, as she thought, upon the crimson velvet seat. She was about to touch it when she saw it was staihed with blood and drew back as this thought came to her — “ The man is a murderer after all ! ” After facing the evil in this way, she clasped the fragment in her hand, and found that it was detained in the joint of the panel. A new light came with this at once. She began feeling about the base of this panel until she had the satisfaction of touching with her finger a small circular spot which seemed more prominent than the surrounding surface. Pressing it, she saw the wood gradually ascend in its framework, until the dark base of a staircase was visible in the thickness of the wall. Without a moment’s hesitation she sprang t through the opening and rushed up the steps. She never stopped until she had reached the end of a second flight. She was providentially just in time for as she glanced into the circular stone chamber illuminated by a swinging lamp, her drink-maddened husband had his broad-bladed dagger raised to strike to poor insensible Freddie’s heart. We have already described how she tore the dagger from his grasp and then rushed to the narrow casement, attracted by the pale face pressed against the opaque pane—the affrighted face of poor, heroic Katey standing on the giddj ledge outside. All this occupied only a few seconds. The face was the face of an angel, and it disappeared as such faces might be expected to disappear. One moment a white, heart-like form with large wistful eyes ; and next the face of the silver moon Railing high in the heavens. The viscountess was not much given to dreaming of angels. Matter-of-fact like, she ran forward, hoping to

find the strange witness of what appeared about becoming a tragcd/. This witness having vanished she threw the narrow casement open and , peered into the depths below. The t moonbeams played upon a little scarlet spot, a quivering mass lying within the intertwining branches of a young walnut tree. She was about to cry “ Are you hurt ?” when her interest turned to horror. The strong right arm of her mad husband encircled her neck, crushing the breath out of her body after the manner of the Spanish garrote. This caused terror enough, for strong woman as she was her assailant had the advantage ; but that terror increased to the deepest horror when she found that the temporary maniac had regained the dagger, and was about to plunge it into her own breast. "The secret dies here !” he yelled ; and she was conscious of the descent of the knife—so wonderfully minute is human perception in such emergencies—when she heard a silvery voice say : “ Do not kill that woman, you bad man.” The knife fell from the grasp of the would-be murderer, and he threw his wife from him with considerable force as he rose to gaze upon the now conscious Freddie, who was sitting up on the rough couch. "Ha!” cried the madman —"that face again ! Will it never cease to haunt me ?” Then, with an awful unearthly shriek that thrilled through the house and the heart of every inmate he rushed from the secret chamber, leaving the boy terror-stricken, and Lady Northenden fainting on the cold stone floor. CHAPTER XI. NELLY HOWARTH IS INSPIRED, AND SPEAKS. Lady Northenden never knew exactly how long she remained unconscious. When she came to herself, the boy, whose timely intervention -ad undoubtedly saved her life, was sleeping placidly, the illness consequent upon his injuries doubtless weighing him down to this envious condition. The great lady looked down upon the fair child, and for a moment a great pity welled up in her heart for the poor waif, whose hair was matted with blood from the wounds received during Jiis two falls from Black Prince, the honest animal which had been pressed by Poison into a cowardly and nefarious service. This boy had just—under a greater power—saved her life, and yet she hated him after that first little bit >f womanly yearning and love. There was something in the expression of his face that reminded her of her own darker hoy, and the memory of that madly-loved child banished all other love and pity, until her thoughts brought her hack to the fate she had sketched out for this obnoxious lad. Closing the window against the mid morning air, she descended the secret stairs, to find the panel still open. If Lord '■ Northenden’s loud cry had awakened any of the household, they had soon turned to sleep again. Her own apartments were soon gained. Opening her private cabinet she applied those stimulants which I science has discovered for shattered ! nerves. ' Being completely recovered, she put ■on a heavy travelling dress and crossed the picture gallery in the direction of the corridor from which Lord Northenden*s apartments opened. With no attempt at concealment she knocked but received no answer, i Opening the door of the ante-room, i she entered, and found her lord lying on a couch with his head hanging over the pillow. "He is likely to have a fit of apoplexy if left there,” she said, j " Well, that is his look-out,” she | "ontinued smiling. " All I want are his keys, and here they are. Very convenient, I must confess.” These useful instruments were indeed banging half out of the gentleman’s pocket. She took them away, j descended to the library, closed the 1 secret panel carefully, and then passed into the paddock. I She tried a dozen keys to the wic- , ket, but without success. At length she came to the ri ht one, and pas- [ sed out into the cnose through which I we have seen To'son head his horse, i and Katey that night wander. Turning in t’ e direction of the broken masonry, she soon came to the walnut tree which grew beneath narrow casement of the private chamber. The red spot was now very conspicuous, but far beyond her reich. I ady Northenden was not the woman to despair. She returned into the house, passed through into the regular garden, and from that place carried upon her own strong shoulder a light garden ladder. By its means she gained possession of poor Katey’s unconscious form. After returning the ladder she placed the poor insensible child on a bed in a spare mom near her own apartments Then she carried Freddie from the secret chamber to the next spare room, and the servants wondered in the morning when they were told by their mistress that "hearing a cry in the night,” she loo’ted from her window and saw these children thrown from a cart in which two people sat and who drove rapidly away upon being rid of their juvenile companions. Most of the servitors remembered the cry, and so concluded that all the rest of the story was truthful. The amiable Viscountess of Northenden drove over early in the morning to Halshaw Moor with the still insensible Katey. Her first visit was to Dr. Mann, who examined the child and said she had sustained very serious injuries indeed —just such injuries as a child would have suffered from falling from a vehicle in motion. Nelly Howarth and Aunt Eliz a were in great tribulation when the carriage drove up to the door. Their sorrow was, however, turned to joy —of a kind—when the peeress carried in the missing little girl in her own

arms. For notwithstanding the injuries, from which the children were suffering, the happiness of the poor woman was almost complete when tenderly told that Freddie was safe under the roof of Hoghton Hall, where he might be left and nursed until his recovery, since poor Nelly had her hands more than full, with John still insensible and Katey now in a similar condition. Neither of the women paid much attention to the tale told of tfie cart and two persons by the voluble viscountess. The first object of the latter was attained. Freddy Howarth remained under her roof, in her power, for a long period after this. It was long before John or Katey recovered, and when they did they had to turn to work at the mill. Dan could not assist them just then for he was nearly ruined by the failure of a firm, and signing a bill for a friend. With sore hearts the poor people then consented to Freddie’s prolonged stay in Lord Northenden’s household. But he usually looted so bright and happy when he came for the season from London that they whispered to themselves that it was all for the best. (To be Continued.)