A SCARLET SIN.

King Country Chronicle, Volume III, Issue 178, 2 August 1909, Page 3

A SCARLET SIN.

story

A po\v!.i;rrl s'i'i ii; v.

By ALirt-. '-f. ■' <*•:: ASKT.W. Authors of ' Is; .. : • . "Anna of the i'wui.." &C,

♦ nvFATiirrii i xstalmi:nt. •' 'The jiyndicalp folk wore 100 Strong for you.' Sir Charlew wont on 'anil Ihey acquired the rstale. They will tlig up th** field whore your mother Iwlii'Vi* that Doitipthing to be ; hidden. Thai "s why you ore hound for Motherly now. Il» you think I don't know—that I rnn't guess ? You or** going to dig—dig. You think that you will find a dead man'* l»oncs— the lionr* of Clinton I'wlp-he who deceived and ruined your mother ; he who was struck down in revenge for what he had done. I»y Klwt-'.t half-brother. George Leslie.' Sir Charles laughed horribly as he .spoke. It was ghostly to hear his laughter. Pamela, and there could l»e no doubt in my mind that he had some purpose of his own In s| tea King to mo as he did. Kven now I can't soy how much was truth in those mod words of hi#— how much a lie." "It's all true—all that you have told me so for." murmured Pamela, pricing her lover's hand—a poor little effort at consoling him. "It's truth that Clinton Pevle met his death in th* Metherlv fields at the hands of Georle lolir. llut do you know. Ilasil. who this Georgw is ? " She bowed her head, and turned her eves awav. "George Iyslie Is y our father. Yes, I know that P.urvtrt. Your father dropped his r ,i l riaru* when he left Iloss. as a r. >riir of the t-rrible events in which i, had token part. f learm-d all thrtf Inter, and realize;!, dear, that v.hi tihom t love so fondly, to whom I was so strangely attracted from the first. or** my own cousin. llut t»i*t then I hail no time to think no tinn' to put two and two together. The name of George Leslie conveyed nothing to me. Sir Charles had risen from his seat, awl was standing before me. gesticulating and waving his arms like a maniac. 'Go back. I tell you !' he almost nwreained. 'There is nothing for you to do at Methorly \ou have brvn sent to d»g. but i tell you then* is no need to dig- It is all _o mistake on your mother's part if .she thinks that Clinton Peele's bones lie buried in the Metherlv fields. Go back on«l tell her so. Say that Clinton IVol» was a friend of minethat I knew nil about his afT|jir-s, fl'l about hers as well. Clinton Peolu wns not killed. I tell you. by the Mow which George I.rslie struck him He was left for dead, but he recovered and mode his escape. He died abroad some years later : I »vbs with him when he died." It was n cold. fro*ty night. Pamela, but •nveat *tood oh the man's brows in dro|«s. Naturally 1 could not tirid'-rstoftd why he should l»- so exrtteil. why he .should l> * so eng> r to prevent me going to Metherly." "He li«*d." murmured Pamela. hnlf under her breath. "wli-ii hi- told you Clinton IVele e*«a|>ed. The wretched man was killed by my father ami buried when* he fell—burled by my father's own hnn«ls. There can l»:* no doubt of that—nottu whatever. For some reason of his own Sir Charb-s Sainton must wish to prevent you or any one else from iinjssing up the bones. I don't know uhat his object can I*'—l can t fi»!•»«. : but he evidently lied to you in ignorance of th*' (.id I ha' George l/ slie hints? If. my father, hnd ah ready gone to Motherly. in order, if possible to unearth those bones Ihfore they should be discovered by the syndicate. " Sin* hid her face in her hands, and her voice was scarcely audible. "At leant. Ilasil." she sigh d. "you have learned all that for your own sake 1 would have kept from you. You know the let'i rible truth about your mother : you know I am the daughter of a murderer."

ntrri* was oiu' thing that he did on! know vi'". hut in »h«* tension of her emotion. I'mwln had put Hob IVrrjul pllogi'lhrr from her mind. Kt»r the first time however. since vhf hnd taken her seat upon the tittle gmv>,v mound to which Itasil hari led her. -the lierame conscious of the v.«en w»ml that blow aerovs the nt'Hir*. and shf drew her cloak mii >re closely al>out her. shuddering a littte. for the air was keen. I thought he lied." said Itasil. ,u't> r m in«nii'i)l'i> |<autte. in which he h.!|*-d the girl to adjust her cloak ■| felt It instinctively at the time, though, of courw. I hiul t|o reason, then, to doubt hl.t word. Anyhow I thought it was time to undeceive him as to the extent of my knowledge in regard to all matters of which he was sp-mking. I told him simply that 1 was not going to Met her ly with any idea of digging in any field whatever, that the object my visit was a purely personal niul that though I hail heard Hi- uaiue of Clinton Pwule mentioned !■-- my mother, and had surmised that th« r» wo* some family secret in ■ ' luurt ion with thht inilividual. 1 h.vi had till now no knowledge of t ht- manner of his death. Sir t !uirl"!> realized pretty quickly that he hud made (i fool of. himself, and ho- gave way to mn »ut hunt of passional? anger. He told me that I Had deceived him, that I had forced him to talk about matters which Jk- should have kept to himself. He grew pale with fury, and once he approached me as if he would have it truck me. But I won't descriln* the scene, Pamela : if* enough to tell you that In h|* rago he told me the whole of my mother's unhappy story—flung out the words intending to hurt and torture me through the insults showered upon the head of the dearest, sweetest woman that ever drew breath, however much she ntny have l>een wronged in the past—fnv »»w n mother. ?t was all I could i! i. Pamela, to keep myself from retrtliftttng upon him. My hands tinc t.> strike, but what was the i- . I • Whiif sh'mH I have gnin-d ;-.>m a viittcnr brawl ? Th-* train h.l 1 n ris- -iV. 'h-~ uhsi.- -.v-th-

■ -,i: ;m. a - .it I'll; ; T f.-lt t ha< •-!»>•* iisg rioivn. Sir Charles ink b.'i' V. in his s'-at. trembling : ; I thought hj" bjnked ■ •11 in faint. lln t when we reached the station : sprang up and gathered his tiiyip-i together. He turnid a look of fury upon me as he left the carriage. 'Whatever your object may be in going N'orth, Mr. Farraday.' he snarled, 'rememlwr what I have told you. Keep away from the Motherly fields. ' That is all he said. He stooil and glared at me a moment, then he handed his dres-sing-bag to a porter who chanced to pass, am! disappeared. I did not know whether he reached his destination or whether he. too. was travelling on to Stoneport. I was not disturbed again that night, but 1 was too busy, as you may imagine with my own thoughts to get much sleep. Think of all I learned in one short hour f The knowledge of my mother's unhappy past, of the murder—or the attempted murder—of her l»etrnyer—a murder jK-rpet rated. Pamela, by your father, for in his passionate outburst Sir Charles coupled the name of Martindale with that of spoke other words, too. which left no doubt in my mind remembering what my mother had already said, as to your parentage" Ilasil paused for a moment, gazing straight liefore him over the moor. "Think of It, Pamela," he resumed —"think of it ! Do you rememlier, dear, the dream'that came to you that night when you and I were on our way back to I<ondon after our failure to win Motherly ? You awoke with a start and told me you had dreamed of digging in red soil for the bon**< of dead men. Well. I had just such a dream last night, when my eyes closed from sheer weariness. I saw myself digging in that field under the lurid light of a pale moon, and always the earth was red ''— "Pon't, don't 1 " cried Pamela, with a shudder, springing to her feet. "Pon't recall that horrible dream, Ilasil.'' Her voice sank to a whisper. "It is my nightly dread," sho murmured. Suddenly she remomliered the time and she gave vent to a little terrifie«J cry. "Oh. we have sat here so long—so long." she exclaimed, "and it is far from Orgadale ! What can 1 do ? Come Ilasil. let us go quickly. You must walk with me. and as we go we must form our plans. We must not stay here any longer—indeed we must not." Sh«* took her lover by the hand, and drew him to his feet.

Basil gave a light laugh, ami passed his arm round the girl's waist. Terrible as had been his experiences of the night, he felt that at least he hail not made the journey in vain He had come in answer to the cflll of love, and he had found love nwaiting him. "My poor darling ! he whispered in the girl's ear. ""So you had heard all thyse awful things, and you had made up your mind that we must part ? Oh. I understand how you felt. You were too sweetnatured ever to have told me the secret pf my mother's past, and you knew that if we Itecanie engaged to l>e married this was a secret that must inevitably have been revealed. Hut that danger is over. Pamela, for now I know all. Your story is my story : we Imth have shadows on otir past—shadows that love will disperse." lie drew her to him. and once more ki>s>'d lt««r tenderly, devotedly upon the lips. "I>*t me go with you to Orgadale." he snid. nie see vour father at once " He. started. suddenly. for Pamela had drawn back, releasing herself from his embrace. "What i«< it Pamela ? " he asked. " What fijK ypti *» " Turning he liecanie aware of a tall figure (hat had advanced upon them, uns'-en. from In-hind. "It's Hob Perrint," whisjiereil Pamela, in affright : "anil oh, Basil, he saw us. He saw us ! " OIIAPTIvIt XXVI Rob Perrint advanced with rapid stride, his long arms swinging, his chin thrust out. bringing his tawny moustache and unkempt lieard into aggressive prominence. He carried a heavy stick in one hand, and he was muttering angrily to himself. He came tip to the young lovers, and then halted, glaring savagely at Basil. The boy held his ground, in no way abashed, and returned the gaze of the elder man. "This is Mr. Perrint, I suppose, Pamela." he asked, quietly—"your htfst of Orgadale Ixtdge ? " "Yes. I am Mr, P-erMnt —Hob Perrint. of Orgadale," the Scotchman put in before Pamela had time to reply—"an" I dinna ken who ye may jie, yotmg sir. But ,vc h«c n» richt to Ih» phllnnderln' here o* th' moors wi' M ins Martlndale." He tumid angrily to the girl. "Ye'll Ik- coinIn' back wi' me," he commanded, "an* at once. I'll hae nac words wi' you here." Pamela glanced timorously at Basil. and then gaining courage, made answer : "My father and I arc your guests, Mr. Porrtnl. "but that does not give you the right to dictate to me. You cannot control my actions —not yet. at least," she added, under her breath. "Ye'll lie comin' back to the hoose. I'm tellin' ye," repeated the man. "For an hour gone ye faither has bin B*k»n' for yv."' •'Perhaps you had better go." Basil advised. "I will go too, for the sooner I see your father and make the whole position clear to him the better it will lie for us all."- He spoke without changing the inflection of his voice, keeping his temper by an effort of the will. He tn TV»'» "There Is no need for any secrecy whatever in this matter."- he went on easily, "I am sorry that you should be under a misapprehension. Mr. Perrint. I am a friend of Miss Martindale's—a relation, in fact—and I have come from lx>ndon in order that I might be of what assistance I can to her, and to her father. My name ia Basil Farradav." Rob IVrrint at the sound of the na:r.\ and «-y.-d th" young man wi'h ruriosity. ."Fitrr.-f ' " i; • *»'!• "Ana 1^

Pamela : 71'' spoke the triri's Christ ian name as though anxious to : assert his right to do so. "I dinna riihtly understand." 11<" paused, tugging at. his bristling beard as though something was troubling hi.s mind. Suddenly he appealed to Pamela. ■ls this the mon of whom ye spoke lome ? " he asked. "Ye ken what I mean ? " Pamela knew he was referring to their conversation of the previous day when she had avowed to him her love for one whom she could never marry. She bowed her head in acquiescence. "Yes." she murmured, almost inaudibly, "it is. Hut I have learned things since 1 spoke to you, Mr. Perrint " her voice was eager—"things which have changed the whole position for me. You must let mo explain " "I'm na wantin' explanations," interrupted the man, fiercely, "I'm content with what you told me yesterday. an' I winna hae ye withdraw ye spoken word. I>et that be understood at once. I winna hae broken promises. Ye mind me ?" He laid his heavy hand upon the girl's shoulder, and she shrank away from him nearer to Basil. Rob I'errint's jealousy was aroused. All that was bad in him was coming to the surface. Pamela could see it in his blood-shot eyes, hear it in the toups of his voice. She was frightened of him. If only she had time to tell Basil all the truth, to confess that she had been coerced into a promise of weighty moment ! For wfiat would Basil think of her now that Rob Perrint in his anger and uncontrollable jealousy would undoubtedly claim her for hi.s own ? Basil's eyes gleamed wrath. How dare this man. this uncouth fellow, lay hi.s hand so familiarly upon Pamela's shoulder ? With a gesture of keen annoyance he was about to interfere. "How dare you ? " he began. Trouble was imminent, and Pamela realized it. "Don't, Uasil, don't," she cried, breathlessly. "For the love of Heaven don't quarrel here and now ! I>ct me go quietly back to Orgadale With Mr. Perrint. Come there yourself later on, and I will tell you all that I had to say to you, explain what has l>een left unsaid. But not now ; not here." She was standing now l>ctween th>two men, anxious above all things to put an end to a scene that threatened to l>c inexpressibly painful to her. Rob Perrint seemed to realize what was in her mind. His lips set lightly for a moment, and then he. gave vent to a short, aggressive laugh. "I'm thinkin' I see licht, - ' he muttered, "an' understand, Pamela, why ye look so skeert." Again be laughed, and his evil face was convulsed by the evil passion that was in him. "Ye hae said nac word to this young gallant o' yours about the promise ye've made me ? Yc thought that ye could play fast an' loose wi' Rob Perrint ; that y© coukl git me to do your faither's dirty work, to save his neck tra' a hangman's noo.se an' verseP fra th' rtigma o' ye name." His temper rose as he continued ; his words were biting and cruel. In his excitement he spoke, in a broader Scotch dialect than was his wont. His superficial "Veneer was lost : he became a gaunt uncouth creature. "Ah, ah." hi' cried, "ye hae com.: out tq nie.st your lover an' ye hae sftid naut o' ye promise t' Rob Perrint ! And wha' will he be savin' when he learns the truth aboot ye?" "Hush, hush ! " cried Pamela, in despair. Hut Rob Perrint did but raise his voice. He continued to address Pamela, though his words were intended for the ears of Basil P'arraday. "I hold ye to your bond," he cried —"ay, that I do. Ye're to be 111 a wife, Pamela Martindale—ye're to gang to kirk wi' nie. If ye dinna do sac the consequences will be on ye ain head, for I willna' spare ye faither nor yoursel'." Ho raised his hands threateningly, j The stick he carried fell to the ground at his feet. "Is it true dear, what this man says ?" he asked. There was a catch in his voice. "Is jt true that you have promised to marry him in re.Hirn for some service that lie is to do you and your father ? " Then* was a tense pause. Rob Perrint stooi>ed and picked up hi.s stick ; he began slashing at a bush of heather. Pamela covered h"i face with her hands, unable for the moment lo find word* to reply. "Why dinna ye gae answer ? " Rob Perrint asked, curtly. He ceased slashing at the heather. "Is it truth what I hac said ? Yea or nay ? " "It's the truth." Pamela sobbed. The blow had fallen upon her roughly, brutally. She had been spared nothing. "J have promised to marry Mr. Pwrint," she went on as though repeating a lesson. "Then i hae th* richt to tell ye to come haine wi* me," said the Scotchman triumphantly, his glistening as he realized that the game was in his hands. "An' I bid ye come. There's nae more to be said here. Ye're ma lassie, an' that's a' there is aboot it." He strode a few paces away as thoujrh he expected that Pamela would immediately follow him. ! "It's true, Basil," she murmured. "It' s the terrible truth. You know now why I said that this meeting must be our last —that we must part for ever. I should have i .ld you all had we nqt been i»t erriii 11 Oh, I wish I had had time to -1• •• a and that you had not learn-d tn truth from other lips than wiir. I had hoped"— Here sh 'r r down quite unable to f»,d wo>-<i- • explain that she had ii. ai -i possibility of touchinc !{••'•• I ": ! ' - heart, of appealing - ' the latent good within Th-r----was no prosp.".-t of . this now, Pamela i-l----that now, for R..i. was groused, and i.- wi.uid nut {•para her. "I had h 0;..-.] -h----peat'"d feebly. ' liu' 1 :.■■ l:> of; telling you what I had Ba,«sl. for it's all over now. and !'">> bvst for us to part at Y- : i go back to London, to y:u ino'her; ; you must try !<j s ,j 'Xv b" i on" :