The Maharajah's Amulet.

Evening Post, Volume LXXV, Issue 122, 23 May 1908, Page 10

T he Maharajah's Amulet.

By Beatrice Heron Maxwell, Author gf " Anne's Sister," eto.

(All Rights Reserved.)

Mr. B^ian Lamont has asked me to .write aUout all that has just,; been E 'happening, >iand though I have told him -that I am no good with my pen, he will take no ''denial. ■ "Mrs.VDering," he said to mej ''you have bees housekeeper at the 'Manor for twenty wars, >arid , I. hope will be housekeeper f oj? • forty ' years- more. And .without jyou I" cenlld • never - have un-, ravelledj|he tangled skein, or > found the (thread j§lat Was- the'clue. So, to, please' 'Miss bJiilcie and me, set it fill down in black and white, and let it belong to the jchrom?ies of the House of ißlentt.**^ 1 W<jsi, to begin with, I came here just B,t iqs,,uine tfta,t^sir Timothy Blenn .quarre'lkcl, with his only son. Master Geoff riy^ as the servants still called'hlmj (though he was twenty-one, and a well-, growh*young naaif^ with a>hot temper of Siis bw# that somV-say he inherited from •his mother, a lady with foreign blood in (her, wfiio died at his birth. I remember he rushed up to the Picture Gatbiry all in 'a hurry 1 and he came .running downstairs and passed me on the way.'Z, "I hay» taken the amulet, Mrs. Bering," he«aid; "it J s the heh-'s by right, and thefli£is never going to be another, heir aftejfe me. I've hade up my mind to be tbfc last of 4he Blenus of Blenpow." *«* ••'—- — I tr}el£ to reason writh him, but he yvas gong; without another word, and I shall ney«r forget Sir Timothy'a^rage iwhen he-femnd that the amufcjt had feone'ii too. For*he set great store l>y ifc^antjio it had been an heirloom fdiJ,,thre€( i T0&»- i ", turies at 'Blennow. I was -told it had ' beso, gi v ,?«- &*• * v ancestor % a MabiHja^olfc'ia^J^fdia, in gratjftlde for some" Service rendered to him^and that as long as one -ialf-of ' |t—itssast — itssas in two portions that matched — reiSjJinfcd under the farialy roof, the 6thei^w : ottitl?- : ffil.wbjftCi»6Vaefe, no matter i how how longJi^^|e^eAsels?ralred. .c&il* unless t|Otlr-?"Were- lost, .tb,ei;e. Voul(4"-8iway8' J -l) r e- - direefc Buctsessiorij* i; and prosperity" a£ "Blehribw. ' i - - - •** It w£s a beautiful thing — a circle ofgold wjth some' dark-inelai- beaten -into It, and encrusted thickly with .'uncut stones, ;;dianiqnds and rubies ascT ajl sorts. On 'the 'back- was engraved a^ lotus floweav and. when the jtwo halves , were separate, .ljalf, the flower-; was; on jach ; and belovj.it the* badge Kri'd" fnpttd Df the •Blenn*s, Vr a noose qi^rope with! % funning, knot?, "Loose to Bind Fast." (They told me it was very valuable. How- ■ >ver, iti'was goaej/with, faster, Geoffrey, „ •md wflen years" had" passed- and still, he did not cpme : baek 4 Sir' Timothy mop-* sd and- failed, and, eyeifytjiing^seemed to go wrong. Then suddenly , one day lie;' returned froip? wliere -he 1 /pad' gone on business, ofinging Master Geoffrey with him, and 'JhVy, seemed good 1 friends, 'again. '"■• > -" • • *• , Master Geoffrey had met f him by chance, 'it appeared, and they * Had infadS it up, but he would never tell what he had done during those £wo years. After a time;- they began -to disagree dgain, and when Sir.. T,Hnqthy sajid ; he ,was going ,abrqad, Master Geoffrey refused 110-go-'wifch- him, hut -went' off,, l by t - himself^EcX''slMe^'butismdish- v piacej'wttft'^ a friend, takin^^h^^'riefcjonce more* with him;.andi3j3Sc s{ex&tping vjfeliJiesjSira'' was that he wa"S~"deattT and the- amulet could not be found anywhere. Sir Timothy was broken-heSrted- : and> said he should never come back to Blennow; so the house' stayed shut ,-up, >with just me arttt^,tfew»sseyvin&»d»" i^c '^ i, \,i One Say little girl — a fchftd'VSf -thread-in her Anns; 'and asked for Sir Timothy. I told her he, •was in''foTeign'^rtsy'a\na v she-'said she had brought a 1 - packet for him and would leave it. I tried to get her to tell me jwnat was i&jft a^U^hb sent ,;fcaj, -but. she said she had no instructions" to d<> moro than*ask-fei^Sir-:'Smothy'-and. gjve fcim the packet. SM"S3r«mfbi?'.S-'wirtlep^nd' I-tdofrher* foverjthe house,, before she left ; and tried ito gain heß^cooSnapnof) iA ev^esyC^y'* '< \'■ Bui it mo x^bthing — not even the' name of the little I'girl1 ' girl who was with; > her. - She -only saidrfihat the lady wßolh'aa^Stife '.'her.; rwoulH no doubt write. I sent the packet to Sir Tjttipthy/ancl-he came home in a» grea^ hurry witn it, for it contaipd^p^, half So E the amulet, and he $/&■ss&£ joyed* to get it back, and wild who-HbrougHt iti iWe t adyerti§e"d £or tjhe.woman;" Duf never' got >; an#;;answer, -;a£d' Sir Timothy * seemed- to droop and wither awajr; until, at lasti v ajiout, twelve months ago, ihe died. '. ' There were no ■ nefti*' relatives, butt a great/, many veiy distant ones, and in his will£he directed failing the ap-fjearance-'-dfi-atty'^lHimant in, ,tb.st $&£s> ine^the Manor.j Qsta^ v §hoid<i'wn|airf u inf and then be 'sold -and all tne-pTfoceeaß--divided befcwjeen_alLy>b.evTQfist r .o^~^ra. ■; . THeSe'L WST'^O'iser'av housekeepewand- a-. sma]*l staff of. servants, and everything jwas'to be kept ujla'as-ihojagh the owner were only away idy" a" time.-'* . lt was a queer fancy of SirTim'ofihv'Si a^fiJokeoL as Tthough he snsp&s£&; 4 wi%| Jt Ma^4^ Geoffrey was married, "&nd;;ra i J^tii^',a;^;Br''. all, -Jiave left an heir. -t>->-- r '^^ 'V-rV The next thing-.^timt^i'.'birp^ned was' thatf a gentlefnan^^Xfi:/ .6te"an-shaven, xvithi pleasant eyei»^eHtttt^a<clever mouth, cam«f £he?e one«i»lp3aS«>on', early this month? and af£Ss3f "ft<f niigty s go pv.,er the Ijkujjuse. ,££?-/* Ai f.' „&£*■:* They/ broaaht me -his card — Mr. Brian Lament, 4e«er Tejtfple ekan^ergs^an^,, •I wSitiitfWfto hinrin the'terllf"*". *i v,> ,# "ftn^a* lover ©c old histories and old houses?' he saiEP— and I thought what a nice^vSicebJie'had,' so well-bred and civil opolgJiJv **'I wotnder if you would let me sco -*he "kanor. I'm staying with Lady Wingar3;""wao has, taken Letchworth ParK for 1 the winter, and-i heard there ,was"a -beautiful old, place in. .this directionr with a story attached, so I walked ove£"_ .__ ,_„...,,..... _ ,> I^aid'l would take him^ round with pleasure, and he chatted all the time, until aiLof ,a sudtten;he"- broken off. in, his tall£ and .stood staring at>a picture iv the Portrait Gallery.. "What a sweet- face !"• he said at last, as tf recovering- himself. < "Who is- it, Mrs? DevingV" -, . ■ - , • iWd that in the- catalogue it was descriUeS *a§ I'Bca'b'thxia/Wughter -of -Hew Hallerton, and wife of Anthony Blenn, j sixth -Baronet of Blepriftw" Manor, iif the ] County "of "Sdmerset." - 7 ♦• ' '"" . He seemed as if he couldn't take his eyes off the picture; and_aitec_that_l . Showed him the half amuletnrf-thetjbony cabinet where Sir Timothy had had it hung, behind a panel of crystal, and so hermetically sealed in, that it would have taken 'aT clever .thi,ef v J.O get it 'out, ggain. ' ' ' ' 7 ■ ■ • Well, Mr. Lamont went away after a time, and a few days later he returned and he said to rao: "Mrs. Dering, you must not think I'm a busybody and -a confounded nuisance, but I believe I have found an owner for Blennow, and J am getting at all the details I can, beWfEf'i'say-CTvordiSO as to be sure of no disappointment." - . I begged him to ; tell" me' wno it "was, but he wouldn't; still he stayed on for a cup of ten, with me, and told me about the house-party at Letchworth, and all' the fine people wb&^e stayjgg with JLadv

"I am going to bring Lady Wingard over one day, to see the Manor," he 'said, "and her &ecretary. It's hard work," he went on, as if he wero thinking aloud, "to be a secretary when you are a young girl with all the joy of 'life in you, and the right to be happy." "It's a young lady thon?" I asked. "Yes," ho answered, "a girl of nineteen, beautiful, clever, high-spirited. And all the other ladies slight her beca,uße, they think she ought to be kept in her place. ' They have scolded me — some ,of them — for talking to her; but what , would you do if you were me, Mrs. DeringV" ,"I should do as you do, sir," I said, "I, make .no doubt." . j For I could see now it was with him ; and that he couldn't help talking of her 1 because she was in his mind so muchi ■' "I shall bring them over next week," he said, "if I may, and ask you to show" them the house. " It was a little more -than a week laterwhen I saw a carriage drive up, and two ladies assisted out by Mr. .'Lamont ; one, midjite-aged and haughty-looking, all in sables and ermine, and the other a tall, slender girl, with bright hair, not over well-dressed, but a lady every inch of her. *•« " • \ • . I^met them in the hall, and Mr. Mont said : "I've brought you some visi- -}'§' . Mr i TDeriß6iT Deriß 6i as Iv promised. This is '-Lady? Wingard, and this is her secretary, , Miss Dorothea Hallerton— called by a privileged few, Miss Dulcie." ' '1 gave a start when I heard the name and repeated it after him, in my surprise, but he put his finger to his lips fM, looked at me as much as to say, "Noti^re^.",' t ; J> •• Iffy ?WingaTd had walked to the fire and sat down, saying she was perished with^her ejght-mile drivfe, and must ,gelb /wrarnx* beiore' she went over a 'draughty pld 1 house. I had the tea ready for them, and it came in atthat moment, so her ladyship said she would have some at-, once. "'" ' «. '"5? en J wiU take Miss Hallerton ,to ±h,e : -W v ei&vWingy">said Mr.. Lamont, "iof I Wknfc her' to make some notes there " - rAft .looked round, but Miss ' Dulcie never jsaw him/ for sho was standing Just like pne in a dream, gazing at the old hall, with 'her eyes all shining, and her hands clasped. ' X ajways like the hall best in winter when,, the glow from .the logs in the great fireplace lights up the' dark oak panels, and the old blue 'and: yelloyv tapestries, ;and,the' polished!' steel" of: the armour,, v. " [•;• , .• - i -'„'>;•,»' ". lAll, the oJd; ; psbtuJ'e^'stand J ouVio ; well too, ■< and • look .sentinels,- keeping guard over their trophies of --battle and the Ghase. ' i"What -do you -think of. it?" asked Mr Lamont. ''I must have lived here in some former life,'' she answered softly ; "it is all, so familiar to me. I know this hall; I haye walked. up those stairs. lam sure, there is a. corridor at the tap leading, to a. -long narrow, room, with pictures on j each side, and a. big cabinet half way down." "The Portrait Gallery," Mr., Lamont •assented. . 'and the cabinet that holds the, heirloom. , Come, we will go there now." k ■L $t | e.;4P.'aked ..afc.-'jiim, . perplexed, and•frightened.' - sfe "But,; j '-^he4stamqiered;i "I, don't unierstand v 3 v 3|s%afr*thihlß I can 1 really Eave had' a 'former life and lived in such a, place as-this,?*' - <e We vrill see," ho answered, smiling at her. "We will take the evidence A> jfc .comes.-" ... tYt!£h9n_.; he* led.v hfir *to . tie staircase 1 . "Npvf you'Shalb go first, and I will folloytt't ' he.; said,', "take "me where youwiii.">' !?.•■■"; .« * ..••■' . They imsafeid vp 1 to -the great Crusader window, and then'? Miss Dulcie" turned to tho right, and down the corridor to ih& long doprs> of t the Picture Gallery. I had excused myself to her ladyship, because-- 1 had the keys, and I followed' "them and opened the doors. ':Duleib Chastened on, ■ until' she' came to the portrait tof the sixth Lady Blenn, and, ,j;here' she stopped j transfixed ; and, 'aa I* looked' from 'Her to the portrait, I understood why her face' had .seemed, so familiar, to me from the , .For it might have been her own picture 'sfie' was looking at ; or her reflection, jq, a«\mirror. v $hV s ha^fon 'a simple grey dress, just ?a? Lady- 'Blenn' was wearing, and a 4argo "Jiat -shadowing the same bright -hair. ' ** '

There were the same eyes — like brown velvet pansies, all dewy and soft, with long dark lashes, the same fair palo cheeks- and even the same 'dimple in one of them that seemed to give a tender look, toi the sweet mouth. j^WhcUis^it?" -shei asked breathlessly. ,'\Ohj, wlio can if be?'; - .' s I~ told' her what the catalogue said, ? aJnd i 'sh'e' ldok'ed'from the portrait to 'Mr. Lamont, and back again to the porjbirait,» • > , , "My name — and my face," she whispered. "What does it mean? Tell me, Mr. Laniont, please tell mo." She gasped his arm with both her hands, rl/s^v tfla tears , spring into her «{ 'siicJ'i Laniont -Saw u them too, . for he turni&juddenly .grave, and he- put one of his hands over hers..

"It means," he said, "that I have had the good fortune to- bring you to your own- Your father was Geoffrey "Hal-.y^tSon-Blenn, and you are Sir Timothy's grandaughter and heiress of Blennow.'' I; * . 6he 'looksfli as 1 though she- would la'int, *bu4s 'he v kept* his ■ hand over hers and his eyes fixed on her face, and it seemed to steady her, and keep her up.

iHow he had traced out all the story, I do not know, but he had it all at his fingers' ends. "Do you remember," 'he said, "that I asked you one evening if you were christened D\jlcie, and you told me your name was Dorothea. Do you remember that I drew from you the story of yourself — .your mother, dying in her poverty, leaving you one legacy — the amulet you wear at 'your neck — that you were never to part with? .

, "Your father married her when he ran away from home, and then when he was reconciled to his father, he kept it secret; and told your mother only that he had igome work abroad, and could not take her. She waited' two years- for him, living on the allowance that he sent her, and then one day she, died quite suddenly. "A woman in humble circumstances, who had befriended her, found two packets among her papers. One was to be given to you, and you were to be told to keep it always, and tho other was marked, 'If anything happens to me, take this packet, with my child, to Sir Timothy Blenn, at Blennow Manor, and give it to him. It belongs to him.' It was signed 'Geoffrey.' No doubt your father had given both these packets to hia wife before h» left her. They contained the two halves of the arnulot. "But how did you learn all these things?" she exrlaimed. "How shall I ever be able to thank you?" "By being happy," he told her. "And why did yon take all this trouble for me?" she went on.

. "Because — "he began, and then he changed his mind and said lightely, .."Fojc no. yeason^ a Jove fojjjaejoU

dhng in other people's business. Please don't overrate- my services', Miss Dulcie ,• it has been an amusement to me ; that is all." "An amusement?" she said, and sho burst into passionate tears. They had forgotten all about me and I did not like to disturb them at such a time. He broke down altogether when she cried like that, and put his arms round her. "Listen, Dulcio," he fcaid. "If none of this had happened, I should have told you that I loved you — I should have asked you days ago to be my wife. But don't you see* that this creates a barrier between us ? Am I to tell the world that I hunted out the proofs of your being an heiress and then asked you to marry me — as the price of my work? That I was seeking my advantage while pretending to seek yours? No, no!" He caught her hand, for she would have protested. "I am not going to drive a bargain with you, to take your gratitudo for love, and bind yon to me at the very beginning o£ your freedom. You have tho world before you now; you can mako a brilliant match. You have had no opportunities in life yet ; they are all to come. Do you think I could be so mean as to cheat you of them, I who love you so dearly?" She was crying still, but the tears wero of joy, I knew, not of grief ; yet as she lifted her eyes, with the lovelighfc in them, to his, and was going to put her arms round hia neck when he stooped to ,kiss her, she gave a little cry and started away from his embrace. For coming towards us, dowp the gallery was Lady Wingard, and her ladyship's face was a study of majestic wrath, and indignation. "Miss Hallerton," she said, "your conduct admits of no excuse. I have already had complaints from my guests of your forward behaviour with Mr. Brian Lamont, and have been considering your dismissal. From this moment you cease to be^ — " But Mr, Lamont interrupted her boldly.

"Your secretary, Lady Wingard," he said; "that, I fear, is .unavoidable, but it is the force of circumstances and not Dulcie's fault. I was just explaining to her that as ' Miss Hallerton Blenn, of Blennow Manor, she must not dream of throwing herself away on a struggling barrister. We were arranging a little bond of agreement on- that point, and '"it was about to be Sealed when you arrived. I feel sure you will agree with me."

But her ladyship, when she had got over her astonishment' and heard the whole story, differed from him entirely. "It is a delightful romance," she said, "and must end as all romances do, I shall lose my favourite bachelor for Christmas parties, Brian, but it can't be helped. You have always been so impervious to feminine wiles that I never imagined you were sincere about Dulcie. In fact I warned her only this morning about letting her head be turned by your attentions. 'fake us over the house — Dulcio's hoiise — and let us drive home. I am arranging a surprise in my mind for all the others.''

They told me afterwards that Lady Wingard made quite a dramatic scene of it at dinner that night-. She related the whole story, and when every one was worked up to enthusiasm and excitement, suddenly presented Miss Dulcie to them as the. heroine of it. They looked very small and ashamed of themselves, some of the fine ladies who had slighted her, but Miss Dulcie was too sw,eet natured not to forgive them, and they couldn't make enough of her after they knew who she was. "The. woman brought you here, the day she came with the packet to Sir Timothy, and, 'though you were only three years old, the memory of it returned'to you just now. Then she fulfilled your mother's last wishes by placing you in the school where you were brought up. Your father sent a sum of money to pay , for your education and expenses, for- a certain number of years —rand doubtless he meant some day to seek you out but he died, while he was travelling in Egypt vfith a friend. . "You nave only to make your claim and there is not a shadow of doubt it will be proved. I have the necessary documents, for you — the certificate of your parents' marriage, and your birth — and other .papers. So that you are now Miss Hallerton Blenn, of the Manor —and I am the, first to congratulate you." *

He said the last words very formally and took a step away from her ; for Miss Dulcie was on the point of breaking down, and" l. saw that he dreaded that. < - ' "I can't believe it," she said at last; "it seems as if it could not be true."

■, "It is quite true," he said quietly ; "you havo one of your proofs there." He pointed to the amulet — the missing half — hanging from a chain- round her neck. "You will find its twin here," he said, and took her along to <the cabinet.

" Mr. Lamont insisted that Miss Dulcie should begin her reign at Blennow alone, and said if they were ever engaged at all it must not be for a year at least ; until she had had time to sco plenty of others, and make her choice. j But he had to give in, when he saw Her happiness depended on it, and she came to me yesterday with .her face like a ray of sunshine, and showed me a diamond ring on her third finger. "That's my new amulet, Mrs. Dering," she said, "and I like it much, much better, than the Maharajah's. It is not to come off until it makes room for a plain gold one." And she draw it up to the tip of her finger and showed me the motto engraved inside : 'Loose to bind fast." "That is the way to keep a womari," she said laughing, "as Brian very well knows." And I don't think they will either of them have much difficulty in keeping the other, for I never saw two young people so much in love in my life !