THE HOUSE BY THE RIVER.

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Issue 7382, 4 June 1895, Page 4

THE HOUSE BY THE RIVER.

f 15Y TUniJAKA KKNT. \

CHAPTER XXVII,

A SEWS PAPER ACCOUNT

' You have come—you have como !' and Belli? flung herself into Vida's arms, her pretty face quivering with grief. ' Oh, where have you been ? Why did you stay away so long ? •What does it all mean 7 Sidney was here—' ' Was here ?' and Vida became suddenly rigid and cold, a chill in her tone. ' Waa here ? Then he ha 3 gone ?' ' Yes, he has gone. Oh, come in here, Vida dear, there is a fire ! You are so cold.' She led the way to the dining room. In the grate a fire was slowly dying and on the mantel stood somo lighted candles. Vida caught sight of her face in the mirror, and of Bebd clinging to her. How strange they looked, both still in their ball gowns, the early sunlight stealing wistfully through the windows, the neglected candles flaring on the mantel. Over the whole house there was an aroma oE calamity, a mysterious sense of something forever departed, as if death had suddenly crossed the threshold.

Bebd placed Vida in a chair, while her tear-stained eyes, filled with anxious wonder, were fixed upon the pure, pale face, which seemed a mask for some terrible secret.

' Sidney has gone V came in a monotonous whisper front Vida's lips. ' Gone—without a word—without a word ! And such a journey! Oh, pitying God, such a journey! Help him—help him !' she moaned. Bebd sank on her knees and forced Vida to look at her.

' You must tell mo, dear,' she said, coaxingly. ' I ought to know. Something terrible has happened. What, oh, what ? Who were these men who came with Sidney? Why did they stay beside him all tho while he wrote the letters which he despatched Euggles with ? I saw them. One was to his lawyers, the other to his partner. And here are two more—one for you and one to Aunt Madge in Washington.' Vida took the letter and opened it eagerly. It took but a moment to read it. She crushed it in her hand and closed her eyes in pain.

' I feel so cold, so sad, so strange. Oh, darling, what does it mean 1 Why did he look so sad ? Why were there tears in his eyes when he kissed me 7 What did ho mean when he said : 1 Will I ever see you again, little Bebd ? Ever again ?' Vida, where have they taken him ?'

She wound her soft, rounded arms around Vida's neck, and laid her cheek against her shoulder. The attitude was one of protection and appeal.

' You will know very soon, Bebd. Ah, very soon.' Vida roused herself, seized the girl by the shoulders, and brought her burning eyes close to the innocent, wondering ones which met hers. ' But remember, you must not believe what they say. It's not truo. No. It is not true.'

Tenderly and shuddoringly she looked at the written lines again. They were without beginning and without signature :

' You may never return to Appkthorpe. Ido not know. But if you do, dispose of it as you sco fit. Bebe I am sending to Washington. We will never meet again. Better so. Do not be impatient. Perhaps the law will find me guilty and givo you your freedom very soon. If not—if I should be declared innocent of this crime— a divorce c*n, nevertheless, be easily obtained in a Western court.'

This was all. And Low it rankle i ! It told Lor the past forever. No estrangement could be more complete. No reproach, no regrets. He thought it too late for that. No declaration of his innocence. It was as if he were addressing a mere acquaintance—one taking a passing interest in his life. Sending Bebe away, too ! Did that not suggest his opinion of her unworthiness and unfitness to take care of her ?

How bitter it was ! How bitter ! There seemed no future for her. Everything was swallowed up in pain for the present. An hour later, Vida lay on the couch in her room, wrapped in a loose robe. She was trying to think of what there was to be done, and what way her course should lie. She determined to follow Sidney, to hover around him, even though he guessed it not, to know the details of his life, to watch, to hope.

Why could she not hate him, after all that Clyde Hastings had said ? "Did she believe the story of Aloha true ? Perhaps. The story of tbe murder ? No. Yet, despite the first awful uncertainty in her mind, his wretchedness in his present position made her pity him and yearn for him, while there was still one doubt of his untruth to her !

Her maid had brought breakfast, and had carried it back untouched ; but she had hardly left the room when the door was opened with a rush and Bebe flew to her side. A newspaper was clutched in her hand ; her blue eyes were widened in an expression of fear ; the young face had aged strangely, She came to A r ida'a side.

' You did not tell me,' she said brokenly, ' because you knew it would break my heart! Oh, do you know what they are saying of Sidney here ? Do you know ? They say he murdered Allan Love, Felix's father. Think of it! Think of it ! And Felix must believe it. Ah, that's why he went away without a word ! What could ho say ? What would be the use of words ? His father's body found, and Sidney accused of killing him ! This is what he meant, months ago, when he spoke of disgrace parting us. It has come ! It has come ! Felix hoped it was not true, and became Sidney's friend. But he heard of this—this awful body found ! —and he went away. How horribly clear all is now ! Oh, Sidney—dear, dear Sid ! —what brutes to think you could havo done this !"

Sho flung the paper passionately before Vida. No need to look very far nor vory long. Tho head-lines flamed bcEoro hor eyes :

' AN OLD MURDER DISCOVERED,

' For moro than a year the unexplained absence of Allan Love, tho well-known mine-owner, resident of Honolulu and San Francisco, has puzzled all who knew him. Many conjectures were rife as to his disappearance, and for tho first fow months but little was thought seriously of it, as he was eccentric in his habits of life, rich, and a persistent traveller. However, as all advertisements and enquiries availed nothing, and ho seemed to have absolutely disappeared from tho face of the earth, one rumor grew aud spread : This was the event of a snowy night last winter, tho last time that human eyes rested upon Allan Love. At that time he was seen in San Francisco with Sidney Raritan, the purchaser of the great Latour mine, which proved a bonanza. It was strange to see the two men together, as their enmity since Allan sold tho mine to Raritan had been well known. He had disposed of it at a small sum as almost worthless. Raritan was more patient, and found it a veritable gold mine, They were known

to he rivals in business, though formerly fast friends, and it was rumored that they were rivals in love for the hand of Aloha Brysdale, one of the prettiest English girls in Honolulu. When, therefore, they were seen together by mutual friends in San Francisco the incident was commented upon. It has never been explained. That night the two set out on a journey across the plains. It was one of the wildest nights of the winter ; still they went—but where and for what reason has remained a mystery. Allan Love was never seen again. Sidney Raritan went East, where, by reason of his wealth and social position, he became one of the representative young men of New York. He married a very beautiful woman, formerly the wife of Ripley Hetherford. Life went very well with him. 'An astounding piece of news has just come from the West, however, and Sidney Raritan is to-day an accused murderer. The body of Allan Love has been found in a remote, sheltered pool near Draxton, Arizona. It is, of course, almost unrecognisable, but marks upon the clothing prove its identity. The interest in this remarkable case is, however, centred around a small, red, ram-soaked, and sodden memorandum book, discovered in the mud of the bank. To think that a man's fate hangs upon such a trifle, and that a memorandum book may be the means of putting the gallows rope on Sidney Kari tan's neck ! Ihe b:>ok was his, the last entry in it being made on the day before he left San Francisco with Love — the words being : ' Meet Love at four.' ' Last night the officers sent by the coroner arrived in New York from Arizona. Raritan was at the splendid ball given by Mrs Frankland to several distinguished foreigners, and the detectives, anxious to secure him, as they had learned of his intention to leave America on the following day, went to the Fifth Avenue Mansion on their ghastly errand. He was not there, however, having left just before the close of the ball, and he was traced to the rooms of his friend, Mr Clyde Hastings, at the Lombard apartments. 1 To-day he leaves for the West to stand trial for his life. "The circumstantial proof against him is at present significant, and in all probability will be strengthened. His hurried preparations to leave the country seem very suspicious, and Mr Sidney Raritan will have a good deal to explain.' Vida read this to the last word, and the blank anguish in her face stabbed Bebe's heart. She stooped and kissed her. ' Poor dear,' she said in her caressing way, 'how hard this is for you ! You will go to Sidney, of course. He will want you ! He will need you.' An ache rose in Vida's throat. ' I will go to him—yes, I will 1' she said, and set her little teeth, and thought drearily of Sidney's altered love. ' You did not tell me where you went to-night from Mrs Frankland's. Sidney seemed anxious—and then his returning without you. Oh, I was full of such awful fears. Had it anything to do with this 7' and her shuddering eyes rested on the paper where she had read the destruction of her own love dream as well as the menace of her brother's life. Vida was spared the necessity of answering by 'an interruption. The maid entered. ' If you please, ma'am, Mr Raritan's valet says he supposses he's not needed here any more, and, as his wages are paid up, ho is going.' [to be continued.!