THE WRONG ROAD

Evening Star, Issue 7652, 30 June 1888, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE WRONG ROAD

BY HOOK OR CROOK.

[By Major Arthur Griffiths, Author of Fast and Loose,’ ‘Looked Up, Lio.] (All Rights Reserved.) VOL. 111.-CHAPTER LV. MILITARY DISCIPLINE. Sir Hubert Lezairc, as wo know, had returned to Market Reepham alone, Mrs Leleu wished him, for reasons that will shortly be explained, to accompany her to London. But he had pressing business at Hazelgrove. . General Wyndham-Parker received him ns usual with great cordiality. “Sorry you left us yesterday afternoon. You should have shot the Kneston coverts. We had really capital sport. Seventy head to five guns.” Tr T L j “It was as well I didn t stay. If I had I shouldn’t have seen what I did, and you wouldn't have seen me to-day, answered Hubert, in a tone of surly discontent. “Hey? I don’t understand. You didn t sec Etta ? I know she was on the sick-list yesterday.” . ~ “ I saw her in Haverstock ispmuey. “ My dear boy, it’s impossible, perfectly impossible." “ Saw her with a chap—you know him—being kissed* and squeezed, and hugged, like any common wench, out in the open day.” . ... “ Pardon me, Sir Hubert Lezaire, said the little General, with immense dignity. »Am I to understand that your remarks refer to one of my daughters—to Miss Etta Wyndham-Parker, in fact ?”_ “ I can swear she was in Haverstock Spinney, spooning like mad with the man she calls Sam.” “ Captain Sutton ! the arch scoundrel. Has he indeed seduced my daughter’s affections ? I cannot believe it. _lt ia too monstrous, too humiliating, too painful.” “It can’t be half so bad for you as for me,” protested the disappointed lover. “lam her father, sir.” “ And I am—l mean I want to be her husband.” . This was the first direct declaration the young baronet had made, and the Genera snatched at the occasion. “ Hev ? lam quite taken aback. I had no idea you meant marriage, not at least till now. I fancied you admired Etta, and I could understand it. She is not unattractive.” “ Meant to marry her ? Why, what else brought me here?’” blurted out Hubert rudely. “I’m mad for her. I can’t do without her. I must and will have her.” “ Wait, wait, Sir Hubert. Allow me. We are very sensible, Mrs WyndhamParker and myself, of the honor you would do us. But we must first think of our own. Let us clear up this miserable business. It may admit of explanation ; you may have been mistaken.” “I saw what I saw. Mistake! Who puts his arm round a lass’s waist by mistake? I don’t, I mean it. He meant it too, and if I’d had my gun ” “That is the way I should wish to call him to account. But unhappily, I think it was the only check to outrage and insult —the days of duelling are over. Otherwise, and I would have waived the difference in rank, I assure you, I would have had this impudent fellow out. It is not the first time. I have been under fire before now, as you may suppose. ” The General looked a very Bombastes, as though his really peaceful services had filled whole pages of ‘Hart’s Army List.’ “I’d do for him, double quick,” Hubert added, still more bloodthirsty, “ just to get him out of the way.” “There will be no need for that. Etta shall have nothing more to say to him, shall never iseo him again. I can promise you that. She will be guided by her parents, afid will choose as we wish. I need hardly tell you, Sir Hubert, whom we should prefer.” “ But she must marry me, right away. I won’t stand any more of this. It must be either he or me—now, on the nail.” “Of course she will accept you, and you shall marry her with all—convenient despatch. But with people in our position there is much to arrange. lam bound to think of my dear child’s interests. There ■must be settlements, you understand. We must call in the lawyers.” “ Hang the lawyers. I’ll do whatever is right—whatever other chaps have done before me.” ‘ 1 And the trousseau ; it cannot be got in five minutes, or for five pounds. Indeed the Rousseau ia a serious matter just now. We couldn’t let our girl go to you quite emptyhanded t° such a house as Strnddßthorpe, where of course you will entertain largely, and she must hold her head high, It must be done properly, liberally. But you, Hubert, you have no notion of the frightful, fabulous cost of female dress and fallals.” “Haven’t I, though ! _ I’ve paid more than one gal’s milliner's bill. “Hush! No more wild oats, you are going to settle down now’, I hear *of any'snch escapades. And in any case I ■c&nndt ask you to pay for my girl’s things. 1 IE this was intended as a feeler, it missed its mark. , “Although,” went on the General quickly, to cover his confusion, "I will confess that I never was so pressed for ready money. You see I get nothing, not one single stiver, from my Irish property, and with my large family the calls are so incessant and so heavy. I shall have to raise an odd thousand or two, I expect.” “ Where will you get it ?” asked Hubert, with ill-bred inquisitiveness. “ From tho bank, I hope. But they’re not over-civil to me. I’m not the master of Btroddlethorpe,” “ Would they advance me cash if I asked them ? ” inquired Hubert carelessly. “Only ask them. Advance? Of course, they’d advance anything to you or your friends. If you like to go with me now—but you can’t want money, surely,” he said, stopping short, and looking hard at Sir Hubert, a prey to sudden suspicions. Was it possible that this future son-in-law, so fortunate and so richly endowed, could be short of cash? To what form of extravagance, what secret vices, could this be due? “ I was pinched by the succession duty, and Tinson has been paying off some mortgages. A few thousands would come in very handy for the honeymoon, till they stump up the next half-year’s rents and dividends* I’ve half a mind to try one of them chaps that’s always writing to me—lasacher, or Herman Siltberg, or Pampeluna Brothers,” . “It ia not wise ; I would strongly adyiso you not to got into their hands,” began the General very positively, “unless, indeed, you saw no other chance. In which casewhy, damme,” he said with frank and charming bonhomie —“ damme, I’ll go with you and see you through it. There ! ” Sir Hubert quite jumped at the offer. “ Let’s run up to town, then, and work it out of hand. Are you game, General ? ” “ I’m with you. This very afternoon top, or to-morrow morning. I will meet you in town —you can start at once if it suits you. I won’t ask you to stay to see Mrs Wynd-barn-Parker, or—or ” “ No, nob Etta. I’d rather wait. But tell her, General, from me, that I don t bear no malice, that I’ll never say one word about the other fellow, if only she’ll say yea. I cafi’t do without her; there’s no girl like her in’ or out of Thorpeshire.” And the young baronet, torn now by lealous rage, now melting into maudlin bewailing*, took himself off. General Wyndham-Parker was glad to be well rid of him. He had business before him which could not keep, and which could best be privately performed. He meant to proclaim martial law in Hazelgrove; he meant to hold a c o« rt of inquiry, and administer justice with the stern, unyielding temper of a strict disciplinarian. , , . flia wife, as coinittaudftnt of the garrison, was first summoned and taken sharply to task. How could she have allowed such grave irregularities under her very nose? What ! the girls might come and go as they pleased, parky with an enemy, correspond, flirt, philander, within gunshot of home, and no one a bit the wiser? .mutiny, insubordination, every flagrant ■crime was committed* and the General was the last to know.

Mrs Wyndham-Parker had a very bad quarter of an hour with her commanding officer. “ You are responsible for the girls,” said the General in a cold, hard, official manner, “ and you have neglected your duty. I can only tell you of it—l cannot punish you," “My dear, lam not a common soldier, remember,” protested his wife. The worm will sometimes turn.” “But I have both power and authority over my daughters, and anyone who offends shall feel the weight of my hand,” went on the General, ignoring his wife’s protest. “But they are not little children now. You cannot chastise a grown-up girl, Wilfrid.” “ Discipline must be maintained, Maria. Be good enough to send Etta to me at once. ” Presently the offending daughter stood before her father, holding herself erect and defiant at her full height. Her cheek was flushed with the rosy hues that fair complexions so quickly take under excitement; her blue eyes were swimming in moisture — tears of anger, not penitence ; and her defiant temper might be from the disorder of her auburn hair, glancing bright in the sunlight, which she had not cared to smooth. The little General was on the hearthrug, Etta in front of him ; she was as tall as her father, and seemed quite unabashed by the severity of his frown. “I am astonished, literally dumbfounded,” he began, “that a daughter of mine should be so lost to all sense of propriety, of decency ” —he spoke slowly, hoping she would interrupt him, but she stood silently staring at him—“so lost,” he went on, “so degraded ” “ What have I done ? Come to the point, father.” “You have been carrying on a secret intrigue; you have encouraged the clandestine advances of a lover, a man we disapprove of ” “ I will never give up Sam, whatever you say.” “You shall never marry Captain Sutton with our consent. Understand that, once for all. I forbid you to hold any communications with him. We have had another proposal for you—a very suitable, most desirable match in every way.” “I can guess. It’s that mean, hateful, little blackguard from Straddlethorpe. But you shan’t sell me to him. I wouldn’t take him if he was a duke, I couldn’t fall so low. I will marry no one but Sam—no one,” she repeated again and again with increasing vehemence, stamping her foot each time. The General was not sorry to see that she had lost her temper. Her behaviour warranted severity. He was justified now in imposing penalties, in using coercion, in fact, to vindicate his outraged parental authority. “ You dare, miss, to defy your father! Such rank insubordination is not to be tolerated for one moment. I’ll teach you the respect that ia due to me and my wishes. You shall go to your room.” Etta flounced away towards the door. “I don’t care,” she cried. “ You may lock me up, put me on bread and water, starve me ; I’ll never give in, I love Sam, and he loves me, and we’ll stick to each other, whatever you may say or do ! ” “Not another word. Go upstairs at once, to the old nursery. I will send your mother to you. But don’t expect me to speak to you again until you submit. Now, go!” Miss Etta left the room, banging the door defiantly behind her, and flew upstairs three steps at a time. She understood the sentence. This old nursery, no longer needed for small children, was still used as a place of penitence and punishment under the Draconian code that prevailed at Hazelgrove. Of late, only the younger children had been consigned to it; but Etta had often found herself a prisoner there in younger days, and it had no special terrors for her. When Mrs Wyndham-Parker came to her she was waltzing round the room, singing at the top of her voice, so recklessly defiant that her mother’s alternate threats and entreaties were entirely wasted on her. “I don’t care; I don’t care. I won’t be bullied. You shan’t make me do what I don’t like, however much yon may ill-use me. Go back and tell father so.” Then Mies Etta resumed her wild dance. But when Mrs Wyndham-Parker had gone, locking the door behind her, Etta, in her turn, bolted it inside, then rushed to the window, saying: “He is still there; I can easily attract his attention.” It was Joe, the gardener’s boy. A window of the old nursery, which was on the first floor, looked into the kitchengarden, and Joe, a shock-headed, simple youtl), was a devoted adherent of Etta’s. That same night a letter to Captain Sutton, describing what had occurred and explaining her situation, was posted in the pillar-box in Haverstock Lane. CHAPTER LVI. FORGET AND FORGIVE. Next day Lady Lezaire, summoning up all her courage, made her way to Harrop’s Green. Sweet Rachel met her as though they had never been estranged. The St. Evelyns were still in the same lodging, part of a little house—Lady Lezaire told Mr Tinson afterwards she had no idea houses were ever built so small—in a long, monotonous, terrace street. The exterior, of dingy London stock brick, with its neglected garden and stucco porch, was not inviting; inside confusion prevailed; boxes and portmanteaus in various stages of packing encumbered the sitting room, from which had already disappeared the few pretty things that Rachel still carried about to beautify their humble home, and which were next to see the light beyond the Atlantic. “I heard you were in town, mother,” went on Rachel cheerfully. “ Gibbings told us so. It is so good of you to come out all this way.” “ As you were leaving England, I thought —I felt ” Lady Lezaire began a stammering apology, which Rachel, to spare her mother, frankly accepted and cut short. “ Yes ; isn’t it good news ? We were so delighted. It is such a fine opening for Ferdinand. The climate, you know, is beautiful, although cold—so healthy for the children. You will like to see them, won’t you ? Little Lucy—we called her after you, mother—is a wonderful child. Only eleven months, and so like you—itis quite absurd.” Lady Lezaire did not speak. She was too touched by the simple, unswerving devotion she had done so little to deserve. “ You are a good girl, Rachel,” she said presently, as she stooped over the cradle of the youngest born, “ and I might have been a kinder mother. But you must forgive me ” “Hush, hush, mother dear,” said Rachel, kissing her. “ After all you have gone through. Please, please do not refer to the past.” The much-dreaded meeting was over, and when the two ladies returned to the little sitting room it was as though there had been no gap or gulf, no painful estrangement between them. “Where is the Colonel?” asked Lady Lezaire. “ I shall see him, I hope ?” “I am not sure. He is still working at the station—he remains there till the end of the month—and this is one of his long days.” "Is it far ? We might drive there on my way back.” Lady Lezaire, quite contrite, was anxious to make the fullest amends. But her face lengthened and her manner stiffened as she saw Rachel hesitating. Colonel St. Evelyn evidently was not disposed to meet her friendly advances half way. “The Colonel would rather not see me, perhaps. Pray don’t think of it.” “It is not that—he will be delighted, only too pleased—he said so this morning —to see you again. But he is so worried always at the station; there is so much going on ; it is such a public place, and so horrid. I shouldn’t like you to see him there first.” “ I think I understand now," said Lady Lezaire, brightening. “But I must see him. Suppose you come in to London tonight and dine »t my hotel. You can have a carriage both ways—of course at my expense. Indeed, you must allow me,” and Lady Lezaire pressed a couple of banknotes into her daughter’s hand. “But it is far too much," protested Rachel. “ What is left will be of use, I daresay. You must want many things for the voyage, if indeed ywn must really go,”

This was the point on which she wished to speak with Bt. Evelyn, and she approached the subject with as much trepidation as she had anticipated their meeting, But the Colonel had soon put her at her ease in this as in the matter of his reception. He had come into Lady Lezaire’s room as though they had only met the day previous, and Had always been excellent friends.' He seemed to take it as a matter of course, talked pleasantly on any and every topic —the weather, politics, Thorpeshire—and applied himself to the excellent dinner he so seldom got nowadays with a heartiness that showed he felt himself at home. He was quite outspoken about the future, and met Lady Lezaire’s shy suggestion that the St. Evelyns need not leave England with plain directness. “ Stay ! It’s not to be thought of, not for one moment. Everything is settled ; our passages are taken ” “ Mr Tinson thinks you may be wanted ; he has hopes—still vague, of course—that Hubert may be dispossessed,” “ We’ll comeback fast enough then, won’t we, Rachel? But it’s a far cry to Loch Awe, lam not too sanguine.” “ But you might help us so much.” “Lady Lezaire, I can’t turn my back ou my luck. I’ve not had too much of late, and four hundred a-year is a fortune, even in the New World.” “You shall not want, Ferdinand.” It was the first time she had called him by his Christian name. “The world is not too prosperous with me, perhaps; but for Rachel’s and the dear children’s sakes you shall share.” “ It would be rank robbery, Lady Lezaire. lam not ungracious, I hope. I would have accepted your generous offer a few weeks ago, but now there is no need.” “You know we shall be quite rich in Nova Scotia, dearest mother. They say beef is only a penny a pound, and everything else is in proportion. Fish, too, and game most plentiful.” “I hope to be able to supply you with both for nothing, Rachel, unless I have forgotten all I know. It is a rare country for sport; that’s another reason for going there.” Lady Lezaire sighed almost involuntarily, for she did not care to revive unhappy memories. But she never could forget that sport had taken Sir Percy Lezaire to this same country. “Of course, if you have made up your mind to go, I shall not be able to dissuade you,” she went on. “ No, mother dear; Ferdy is very obstinate always, and this time I think he is right.” The Colonel pretended to scowl at his little wife. “Asif I wasn’t always right ” But at this moment there was an interruption—a waiter came in to announce—“Mr Tinson. Would my lady see him, if not inconvenient ? ” “Do you mind, Ferdinand ? or shall I tell him to call to-morrow morning ? ” “ I mind ! not in the least. That is for him to say. He ought to hate meeting me more than I him." “You had better let him make friends now, Ferdy,” interposed Rachel. “ I daresay he will be glad to do so, poor man,” “ Ho was doing his duty, or thought he was—l cannot quarrel with him for that, now ” “He is all on your side,” said Lady Lezaire, “ and rather ashamed of himself, I expect.” Mr Tinson did not show it when he cam i up ; he was too self-possessed, too much a man of the world, and shook hands quite cordially with the Colonel as though they had never been enemies. Only a slight and very casual reference was made to the past, “Glad to see you looking so well, Colonel” “after all you have gone through,” he would have added, and the words, although not spoken, were understood, “ No thanks to you, my friend,” replied the Colonel with a short laugh, and in his most offhand way. “ You did your best to send me out of the world. But never mind all that; I’d rather have you for us than against us, I must confess.” “ What is your news ? ” asked Lady Lezaire, coming to the lawyer’s rescue. “ Anything important ? ” “Well, a good deal has happened today,” said Mr Tinson, as he sat down and filled his glass, “You know that fellow who was watching you, Lady Lezaire, promised to put me on the track of Mrs Leleu. He was to meet her this morning at Haggle and Horry’s in Vincent square. The meeting came off, and after that ho followed her to where she was staying, a lodging in the Buckingham Palace road. Having marked her down there he came on to me. “It seems his job is ended with her. She questioned him a good deal about you, Lady Lezaire, and learnt—so I take it—all she wanted to know; at any rate, he was told he need not follow you further, and was practically dismissed.” “ That was this morning, then,” said the Colonel, “before you came to us, Lady Lezaire. So Mrs Leleu will not know that we have kissed and made friends,” ‘ ‘ I doubt whether she would care to know that. Her object in watching you, I feel sure, was self-defence. When she heard of our trip to Brighton that object was gained —she knew then that we had found out the fraud of obtaining her place with a forged character. And that I am right in this surmise is proved by her having stopped her pursuit. Now is the time to begin ours.” “You have set a watch on her, then?” inquired Mrs St. Evelyn. “At once—directly I heard her address. And it has borne fruit already. Sir Hubert has been with her to-day. He was not long in following her up to town.” “ Can you guess what brought him ? ” asked the Colonel. “ Not positively, although I have my own idea. The point is complicated by the fact that Sir Hubert has not come up to London alone. General Wyndham-Parker is with him.” “ Is it possible that he is associated with these wretches ? ” cried Lady Lezaire. “Spiteful little beast! He is quite capable of it, and worse,” said the Colonel, with hearty disgust, “ But you know they have been trying to catch Hubert for one of their girls; Gibbings told us that,” suggested Rachel. “He is very intimate at Hazelgrove.” “ The General may merely want to make use of him, They are on some money business, evidently.” “ Wyndham-Parker speculates ; I know that. He is a guinea-pig, too, mixed up with all sorts of rotten companies. Sir Hubert Lezaire of Straddlethorpe might be very useful to him if properly worked.” “ There is something underhand in this, I feel sure. He would naturally have come to me, for we have not openly quarrelled yet, about any straightforward investment, or the question of settlements, if ho thinks of marrying one of the Parker girls. But these two—the General and Hubert—seem to have been going round to the Jews. I hear of them calling at three different money-lenders to-day." “ The General’s flying the kite, and has got Hubert to back him ; that’s about it,” said the Colonel. “That’s part of it, but not all. Mrs Leleu is in it somewhere, else why did Sir Hubert call there this morning ? ” “ Did he take the General with him ? ” “No; which show? that whatever the game is, the General is not entirely in it. But we shall know more to-morrow, unless Pm greatly mistaken.” Soon after this the St. Evelyns took their leave. (To be miMnwd.) The electric light has not only found its way on to the dinner table, but even into the dishes in America. A jelly, in the midst of which the electric light was set, created a great sensation at a recent fashionable dinner party in New Orleans. The effect was enhanced by the fact that it was arranged as a M surprise" for the company. The dish had been on the table from the beginning of the repast, but was hidden from sight by a large silver cover placed over it, which was in turn concealed under a heap of flowers. When the cover was at length removed, and the jelly was disclosed, the effect was-r-the word is in place for once —electrifying. It must be added that those who partook of the jelly thought that it smacked of the electric fluid, and one lady went so far as to say that she felt as if she were swallowing a Leyden jar,