SERIAL STORY.

Marlborough Express, Volume XLVIII, Issue 14, 17 January 1914, Page 2

SERIAL STORY.

THROUGH F3LLYS MILL

(By Alice and Claude Askew.)

rAiA Rights Resekvkd.]

CHAPTER XVl.—Continued

The blood of the mad Farfexes went surging through his veins; They^had gone Do the devil grandly, those forebears of his. Many tongues had wagged with the tales of their wild doings—let tongues wag again then and play havoc with the respectable name of Holt. It would doubtless be remembered that John Holt's first wife was a Farfex. I/auncelot, with the lust ot vengeance rioting in his brain and hatlred gripping at his heart, had utterly lost all self-control, all power of reason. One idea only had filtered into ihis mind'and rooted itself there. His father denied him the woman he loved and wished to marry, and Ins father had tried to elbow him out of his just inheritance —well, since he was thrust into the gutter—into the gutter he would go—refusing Holt money if it were offered to him —and the lower he fell the bettter—for all the1 world should know that he was the lawful heir to large possessions— the successor to the Holt estates —and that iK was his own father who had driven him to these straits. Yes, all the world should know! It was at iihis moment that he became conscious of a bedraggled figure, a woman whose sodden garments, such as they were, clung pitifully t!o her limbs, and who seemed' to grope her way against the merciless wind and driving sleet with bare hands now outstretched- as if feeling for some support, now lifted to her face as if to protect it'- She staggered along the pavement close to the curb, her feet •sinking into the drift snow, and when she cam© opposite to the window, out of which Lauicelot was leaning, sho paused—perhaps attracifc-d by the light and! the consciousness of the presence 6f a fellow creature—and for a moment lifted her bent head and turned her face to Launcelot. He had imagined from gait and figure an old woman, but she was young—quite young —and her eyes had! thoflookof a huntiedanimal. She was not a beggar, becaifeewshe did not utter a sound, and after that one quick glance in his direction she passed on, though her first steps carried her into a.deeper snow drift so that she plunged forward and nearly {ell. Launceloti saw that she -recovered herself, staggered on for a few paces, and then, with a gesture of utter despair, let herself fall under the portico of a house a little lower down, where he could still see her, huddled together as if in pitiful resignation to whatever might befall. Iti was as he saw her fall that he became aware of :his father's last speech, a speech that had to be repeated, for at firs JJ it had elicited no reply.

"Will you, or will you not, give up the idea of marrying Ida James?"

Launcelot turned and faced his father. Perhaps something of the hate-born madness that had come upon him was reflected in his eyes, for the Squire stepped back with a gesliure as rO he felt that he might have to defend himself.

"I shall not marry Ida James— you've killed love in me, fathgr, as you've killed everything else. I shall not ask her to share my degradation— I will spare her that.^ Mr Holt ihad not expected this ap>- . parent, submission. ' "I don't know what you mean by degradation," he said. "But since you consent to give up Ida James we can consider "

"No!" Launcelot bit the word as it passed between his teeth. "We can consider nothing. I Tefuse, I absolutely refuse, to surrender the smallest tJitle of my rights. As long as I live I am heir to Ohalton, and, from the gutter to which you drive me, the world shall know it. Not a penny of your money will I touch till the whole is mine by right." He.took! a step forward. "If-1 grind an organ for my daily bread my name—and your name —shall be printed upon itr with the story of what you, my father, have done for me—it shall be there for all to read. If I beg in the gutter not a soul who gives me a penny but shall know what I am —and what you are. I'll make your name a byword. Nomud shall touch me thaii is not thrown back upon you—mud that will stick close and stench in the nostrils of all who come near you. My shame shall be your shame, and what I suffer in body you shall suffer in mind. I will drink and cheat and steal, and it shall be your name rather than mine that men will revile."

Launcelotl poured out the words with an eloquence of which he would have been incapable, in saner moments. And Squire Holt," astounded, figuratively swept off his feet by v the torrent of denunciation, read in his son's slanting eyes that he was not listening, tfo mere idle threats, but to the ■expression of a fixed; purpose which, however mad and unthinkable it might sound, had been conceiv.Rl, and would be carried out, in deadly ■earnest.

"You're off your head, Launcelot," he muttered. "Haven't I told .you—"

Lanneelot broke into a laugh, for, glancing out of the window, tie had again caught sight of tlhe huddled figure upon the doorstep—the woman who would die of cold and exposure unless help was brought to her. And in the madness of his hate he .spoke. "Look there, father." He pointed a shaking finger. "Do you see that mass of rags crouching down with the rain and tfhe snow beating on it? It's a woman. She passed by a few minutes ago and I saw her face. She's quite-young, but I should guess she's as sick of the world as I am. No •doubt she's starving and hasn't a home to go to. Well, do you know what Fin going to do?- I shall take the first step in your degradation now —atl once. »I shall take that woman home with me and feed her andl warm lier and clothe her—l've got a little money left—and then I shall make lier my wife—yes, my wife. A waif, outcast, a gutter wench—one of ; the lowest of the low—she shall be my ; wife—your daughter-in-law. I shall j ha>ve no scruple in asking her to share my poverliy.'1' He laughed again shrilly and discordantly. "What about your Holt pride now? What will all the good people at Chalton say when they know thnt your son and heir is married to a woman whom he picked out of the glitter? Thoy*]). be. sorry for you— they'll pity you—and how it will hurt you--how it will hurt!"

As he spok<? ho haA moved from the window to the door. Mr Holt, speechless with fury and indignation, did nothing to restrain him. He uttered no sound when his son stalked out of the room, nor, a minu^© later, when he h^ard 't\w hall door slam.

Jf vms as. if fury had paralysed him