FICTIION IN BRIEF.

Hawera & Normanby Star, Volume XX, Issue 2420, 6 May 1893, Page 4

FICTII ON IN BRIEF.

*'' s jBF MRS CASHEL HOEY,

SHUFFLED CARDS.:

Author of "Out of Court," The • Token," &c. &c. All rights reserved.) PART I.—Mr. Colebrooke's Card.s Vv " Marion, are you there ?" •• I am. here, my love. Do you want any thing ?" • "Why are you sitting by the firelight ~ only ? It must be so much more weary foi *you." . ; "Oh no!" The speaker moved noiselessly towards the bed, on which a sick man • lay, and taking her seat by his side laid a cool v hand upon his forehead. "I do not want • more light, and you are better without it." r", Nothing in Marion Daventry's voice or manner betrayed the emotion she felt on hearing her husband ask an ordinary ques- j tion-in his usual tone; yet net heart was j beating almost loudly enough for him to hear it, and her knees were trembling, for these ■were the first rational words he had spoken '< during three days and three nights. " Give me something to drink," said Paul Daventry, " and then I. want to speak to you." " Not yet, dearest, not yet; you mHst keep quiet for the present. You have been so very ill, you know." "I do know—off my head, too, since that night —a year ago, was it, Marion ?" . "Not a week. Drink this." She raised his head, and he drank eagerly. As she laid him gently back upon the pillows, a flame sprang<<up in the fire and lighted, the dim room, showing plainly to the wife the husband's face, wan, drawn, with hollow eyes in which fever still burned, although there was meaning and purpose in them now, and the revived trouble of the days before he had fallen ill. " Sit there, Marion," he said, " and give me your hand." She obeyed, and he turned his head towards her. " Are we likely to be interrupted ?" ' " All that is wanted is in the room; no one will come in until the doctor makes his las* visit. He will be displeased if I let yo» talk." " I must talk, Marion. I have been al) ' right in my head for longer than you think. and I have been making up my mind to tell you —, but first I want to ask jou somfr , thing." "What is it, Paul?" • He rolled his black] eyes slowly round-~ the flame cast a flickering light upon them; seemed idly to mark the fantastic shadows on the wall—and asked— 11 Has anything been heard of Mr. Colebrooke since my illness ? What communications have you had from the office ?" " I have heard nothing from Mr. ColeI Brooke. Mr. Tritten called twice to ask how you were getting on, but he did not bring , any papers." " Strange," muttered the sick man, and then seemed again to wander for a few moments. His wife sat still and silent, watching him intently. Presently he resumed — " I have had a great trouble on my mind Marion." " I know, my love, I know." " And a great offence." She started, and her band quivered in bis. "Tell me,",she said, encircling his head with her frep arm. He. told her.' Her face was quite colourless, but her voice was steady as she said, with her cheek pressed to his : • (, "There,must be a ujay of escape, Paul, and it shall be fonnd." " Mr. Colebrooke's forbearance Is the only way." The doctor saw his patient that evening, and gave a favourable opinion of his state. On leaving the house, a suburban villa out • Chapham way, he stepped up to a brougham drawn up at a little distance, in which a tall, portly, prosperous looking man was seated. This personage leaned out of the window, and [asked the doctor how he found Mr. Daventry. " Going on well," was the reply. " Head clear, and better in every way. He will do now, for the present." "That is very good news, but I fear you are still of the same opinion on the general question." "Yes,"the doctor shook his head sagely. " Is there any objection to my asking to see Mrs. Daventry for a few minutes ? Now that his head is clear he may like to know 1 have called." " No objection whatever." A cautious knock at the door of Paul Day entry's betJroom was answered by Marion, with her finger on her lip. " Please ma'am," whispered the parlourmaid, " Mr. Colebrooke has called to enquire for master, and would be glad if you could see him." Robert Colebrooke was an " outside" stockbroker, and enjoyed the reputation of considerable wealth. He hoped and intended \b make that wealth colossal. Paul Daventry, who was very little his junior, was employed in his office. The two men belonged to the respectable middle-class, both had had small beginnings; but there the 'parallel ended, for fate had dealt differently with Colebrooke and Daventry, as their relative positions testified. At length Mrs. Daventry appeared, and with his first glance at her face, he said to himself; " She knows." "Theone way is Mr. Colebrooke's forbearance," Paul had said, and the words rang in her ears, as she advanced towards the visitor, and grayely bade him be seated. The marble pallor of her face, the traces of anguish and fatigue, could not mar her ■ beauty past recognition, and in the eyes of the man now gazing upon her, these enhanced it. She was an undeniably beautiful woman, now in her twenty-ninth year, tall, slender, graceful, with a finely-shaped head, dark brown hair, brown eyes, and an air oi refinement, which set her apart from her visitor.. " Daventry is better ; out of danger, Dr. Snell has just told me," he began, " and there is no longer any reason why I should postpone the business on which I nave come herd." " He is quite unfit to attend to any business." "lam aware of that; his part; will be a passive one. I have not previously had the advantage of seeing you alone, Mrs. Davefatry ; it is unfortunate that our first private interview, for so long a time, should be of such a nature." • " Will you have the goodness to explain.', "Certainly, and as briefly as possible; but I feel sure you are in possession of the matter which brings me here." She uttered "no word, she made no sign. "Your husband has been going wrong for a good while, and I have been looking-on, with a tolerably clear notion of what was to come, but I did not quite foresee that he would involve himself in hopeless ruin, by loeses on racing bets, embezzling money of mine entrusted to him. This is what he has done, Plainly put, and you know it. Detection was at hand when he was taken ill. And he was making deserate attempts to raise the sum that would save him; those attempts would have failed In any case." ° You had found it out previously ? And you were watching him ? Oh Mr. Colebrooke, why were you our enemy before he did you any wrong ?" "You know that,, too, right well, and it is beside the question.- I come here to askyou whether you are in a position to refund of which your husband has robbed me, if I consent to abstain from prosecuting him, and to inform you that in default of such payment by twelve o'clock to-morrow, I shall have Daventry arrested without further "delay." Now she looked up at him ; a questioning horror was in her eyes, but he met them unshrinkingly, and with a derisive smile. She only said: " You want to kill him." " Not at all; that would in no wise serve my purpose. I want your answer to my question first. Let me have it, if you please. Will you pay the money ?" In the extremity of her fear and anguish she found calmness to answer : _" I have only /io. If you would give me time to sell all we possess, I suppose I could pay the money." V But I will not give you time—not a day, not an hour." In a strange quietness she still searcned bis

face, and sHe "was plainly revolving some question itt her mind apart from his reply. "What is your real object ?" she asked, at length. "He has never suspected you to be his enemy — how should he, with his nature ? And you were once his friend ; you gave him employment when dark days had come, and saved us from banishment to a foreign land in search of bread. You have been my enemy always, but he ? It is not this fault, crime — what you will— it is not this breach of trust, it is nothing of the present that inspires your conduct. If you don't want to kill him give rue time." " Not a day, not an hour." She hardly seemed to hear him ; there was something fresh in her thoughts.' " I have a brother," she said, " he is much younger than I, and h<: is strong, inured to work, and hiph-couraj;ed. He has earned by hard toil a little more than £i,ooo, and he is going to the Fai West, to buy land and settle there. He will gve me the money, to save my husband and me, and we and our child will go out as pooretni^iants withhim. He will give me the - one)' ,n soon as he can realise it Mr. Oh'or./.ko, Ido not know what is in your mind Inn if you Hon't want to kill my husbaiin, n,vi do v, mh your revenge, you inn} be . r.tisfied with 'bis. Will you take my brother's &T,D(»y on 1 spare my husband ?" " I will not If I wn-iul, \r>u could not make any ouch p:. >:..': r '\V;jy should the young man br- suci' i fool as to give away his hard eainY'.s «t;! uith them all his future, and to start as a j wvrtir on your account ?" "You could not understand," she answered mildly. "Mr. Colebiooke, you shall have the money in a week from to-day, if youwll take it. And you will not be so unmerciful as to prefer the greater revenge. Whatever your motive is, our utter ruin, our disappearance, the loss of every prospect for our boy, will surely suffice, especially as it is not my husband but myself you hate." Again with a derisive smile he answered : "This is waste of time, let us end it. Take the whole truth from me now. Opportunity has come to me, and the upper hand is mine, Marion Ferris." His last words enlightened her, and she interrupted him, with flashing eyes : " I am not Marion Ferris, sir, but Marion Daventry.'* 4 "So much the worse for you. It was Marion Ferris who spoiled my life, and Marion Daventry shall pay for it. Now you shall hear the truth. 1 thought I had got over your refusal of me, long ago, and had almost lorgotten you until I recOßnised you as Paul Daventry's wife, after he came into my office. Then I knew I had not Rot over it and whether' lm<-sl haled or loved you, f could not tell. I c-uir-ot tell now, and it does not mattei ; n !>;>■•. •m'.iinfr to do with my resolution Your !i';>bar.d has robDed me, and my oppor r.H'v has coi^e I can kill' him if I choose, hs' \mi have yourself said, and I can ruin him utterly, if that would suit me better, Icfuin • yon and your son, in either case, to bc—aiy and disHe paused, rose and .sin >;1 behind his chair, holding the rail in both hands. She was speechless with terror and amazement. " I will not wait for your bi other's money. I wanted power over you, and your husband's crime has put it into my hands. I hoped it would come to his beins. forced to rob me one day— there's only one end to a poor man who'is a K*mb]er--and i n a post of trust— and I waited for thnt day ! I hail it now. Someti an ago, Daventry endeavoured to effect .vi insurance on his life. I daresay yon In >w nothing about it." She assented by a feeble mo\ en cut "Of course not. He tailed, because the medical officer would not ' pass' him, and I discovered the medical officer's rea-,on. Your husband has a fatal disrase, Mr* Daventry, and I am in a position to feel in-ich mo-v sure than you that his arrest and imprisonment would kill him." She was past any evidence of feeling beyond a low moan. " When ho was taken ill the other day I fully expected him to die, knowing his state of mind and nerves, and I feared ,ny opportunity had escaped me But Snell, who knows the real state of his health, believes that with rest, care, easy circumstances, and peace.of mind his life may ; be-prolonged for some time." Her lips moved but no sound escaped them. " He has lived," continued Mr. Colebrooke, "and I use my opportunity. You have a a choice to make, between lulling your husband by your own act ; for I will keep my word to the letter and have him arrested unless I receive £1,000 by noon to-morrow, and letting him live his alloted time free from care, and with every alleviation of illness, and comfort in 3eath that money can give. All this he shall have from me— he will regard me as a friend indeed, you know —if you will accept the terms I am about to offer. Your husband's deathdn prison, your own disgrace, an inheritance of shame and beggary [for your son, instead of the position and education of a gentleman, these are on the other side—" . , , " And on the other ?" she asked faintly. •• On the other, your promise to become my wife in one year after Paul Daventry's C " Never ! never 1 she cried, starting up and rushing to the door. But Mr. Colebrooke intercepted her. To avoid his touch she shrank into an angle of the wall and crouched there, shivering. , "This is your answer then," said Mr. Colebrooke, with slow deliberation So belt. I win in any case. Your husband shall be arrested to-morrow." She fell on her knees at his feet. "Master has been asleep ma'am." said the maid who had replaced Mrs. Daventry in the sick man's room, rising on her entrance. Her mistress shaded the one lamp before she spoke, and then gave the gir leave to go. She knew too well that Paul had not been sleeping. „ "How veiy long you have been away, he said fretfully. I could hardly bear it. Tell me at once, the worst. "There is ho worst, my own loye. I could not hurry Mr. Colebrooke. you know, ! even to tell you the good news. Paul, he forgives everything, overlooks everything he knows it was a sudden temptation, he he — says ■- he knows — everything Iboilt it, and when — when you are quite well you are to begin to refund the money out of I your salary. But — he — says your recovery (s the only thing to be thought of'now.i" ] He put his wasted arms around her asjshe knelt,. and burst into salutary tears.. And before loaf?, his wife, pale, icy-cold and tearless was watching his quiet sleep, with a broken heai t ?(JTo be concluded.)

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