(ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.) A SCARLET . A POWERFUL STORY,

Manawatu Times, Volume LXV, Issue 396, 25 April 1908, Page 2

(ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.) A SCARLET . A POWERFUL STORY,

By ALICE and CLAUDE ASKEW, Authors of "The Shulamite," "Anna of the Plains," &c., &c.

4 !Whirst she deliberated the dooi opened again, and this time it wa9 old Liddy who came out. She had evidently stolen back to watch her patient directly Pamela had taken her departure upstairs, and had now been turned away by Rob Perrint. The old woman looked pale and eneasy, and walked slowly and uneasily up the oak staircase, starting back with a low cry when she caught sight of the white face peering through the banisters. "Dear lassie, 'tis never you ! " she muttered. "Oh, gang back to ye room, an' let me in tae talk wi' ye." "Yes, I will," whispered Pamela. Liddy by now was abreast of her. "But tell me first," she asked laying a trembling hand upon the old woman's shoulder, "what is Rob Perrint doing in my father's room at this hour ? Has he gone there as friend or foe ? " "I dinna ken ! I dinna ken." Liddy shook Ivt grey head. "But I marked how his e'en glowered and his lips wore an unco strange smile. Pamela shivered slightly. "Would you be frightened for anyone in Rob Perrirft's power ? " she asked. "Tell me the truth, Liddy ; I | must know the truth." "Frichtened ! " The old woman threw up her thin, claw-like hands. "Ph, lassie, lassie, why do you ask me sich a question ? Dinna force me to answer ye." She gave Pamela so penetrating and sorrowful a glance, that the girl felt that there was no further need for questions. "I understand," Pamela murmured "I quite understand, Liddj. But, all the same I am not afraid —not really afraid. Rob Periint shall never hurt my father."

CHAPTER XVII. THE STORY OF ELSIE. "And wherefore should he bear a grudge against your father ? Liddy glanced up apprehensively as she spoke ; then she shobk her head. "I can guess—l can guess," she muttered. "Ye're ower bonnie, lassie ever to hae come into this house, an' I can read the thought in your heart. Yc're atfeared that if ye luik coldly at Rob Perrint he'll find a means of hurting one wha is dear to you." "Yes, that's my fear—that's my dread,"- exclaimed Pamela. Then she clasped Liddy by the hand. "Gome back into my room," she said, "for I want to talk to you. I wonder," she added, hesitatingly, "if I ought not to go down and ask Rob Perrint to leave my father, though ? He, has no business—no right—to be talking to a sick man at such an hour. Was father awake .when he came in ; and what excuse did he offer ? " i'Little or none,'' Liddy answered, slowly. "He just walked up to the bed where your father lay awake, dear lad, and unco restless, and said he wanted to speak to him. Your father nodded his head, an' then Rob Perrint ordered me frae the room. I ken nae more." Liddy spoke in the whimpering voice of startled old age, but Pamela glanced up resolutely

"I shall go down to my father at once," she said. "Nae, nae," Liddy laid a detaining hand on the girl's shoulder. "Dinna be ower fash an' offend Rob. Tek, an an Id wife's warning, an' let sleepin' dogs lie. It may be that Rob thinks it better to hev' a quiet talk wi' yer father. lie may ha' guid reasons o' his own, dearie. Anyway don't rouse him to wrath." "Perhaps you are right," muttered Pamela. She sighed wearily and then allowed the old servant to lead her back to her bedroom. The fire was out, by now, and the one solitary candle gave but a feeble and uncertain light, so Pr.meia crossed to the window and drew up the blind. The dawn had broken and shafts of lemon light were streaking over the wind-tossed, angry sky. The mist was beginning to curl away, but ihc rain still fell in sheets and the wind howled horribly. "What a grey, miserable day ! " shivered Pamela with a glance over her shoulder at Liddy. "Tell me the rest of the story," she said —"the story of my father and his sister. We were interrupted, you remember, just when you were relating how Elsie came to you in her shame." "Had I got to that ? " murmured Liddy. "Ah, lassie, then we're close to the terrible part o' the tale. The horror o' that nicht I'll never forget till I die." She paused, then sat down in a large chair and rested her puckered withered face upon her hands. Pamela came and crouched at her feet, watching Liddy intently, her heart beating wildly, though she felt in. the secret depths of her heart that there was nothing to tell her— she knew all.

"The next day," Liddy began, "Elsie wrote to her brother —to George up' in London an' what she put in her letter, the puir brokenhearted lassie, I ken only guess. A day an' another day passed, an' nae tidings came frae George. Puir Elsie whenever the postman passed wi'out leavin' her a letter, grew white to ner lips, an' moaned out that even tier brother had forsaken her now that he kenned her to be shameless an' vile. But we had one visitor a' the same. Luke Farraday cam' up to the cottage and would ha' speech wi' Elsie. ' I left them together in the parlour, an' by-a'nd-by I heard a sound o' pitiful weeping, an' I guessed that Elsie had found courage to tell her lover the story of her ruin. A.n hour later I cam' back to find Elsie alone. Her face was drenched wi' tears. 'Oh, Liddy,'- she cried, 'why does a woman never find out the truth till too late, for the man who has just left me is worth all the men in Scotland —in the world ? He has offered to make me his wife, Knowing what he knows—to take mo abroad with him to-morrow, to save me from shame and reproach.' '£ 'Ye'll conscnt, Elsie,' ; I cried, 'an' just thank God for this on your Knees.' But she shook her head. 'I must see the other first,' s'he said, 'for, bad as he is, I love him. I must see Clinton Peele again.' "Poor girl," interrupted Pamela, "How she must have adored the wretch ! " Then her eyes filled with tears as she listened to the rest of the story. George had appeared next day but had said nothing to Liddy on the subject of his sister's betrayal ; but the old woman guessed from certain remarks which had passed between the brother and sister that a meeting had been arranged between George and Clinton Peele. They ivere to meet on the moor at nine d'clock at night. Liddy felt very anxious as to the result of the interview for she knew how hot-tem-percd George could be, and his face had gained a singular hardness of expression which went far to frighten her. He looked as if he would be capable of any deed of violence and she wondered fearfully what would happen if Clinton Peele refused to marry Elsie. She sat up praying and weeping in her little bedroom that evening, the prey of anxious forebodings. George set out early to keep his tryst, and after a while Liddy heard Elsie creep softly out of the cottage, and she guessed that she intended to be a spectator of the scene, a witness to the interview between her brother and lover. Also Liddy reflected to herself that it might be as well, perhaps, for if the two men came to blows, Elsie would be at hand to part them. Hours p&3S<?(!, &nd Elsie was thV first to return to the cottage.Liddy heard her run upstairs to her bedroom, and then the girl appeared to abandon herself to a passion of tears and sobs—terrible, heartbreaking. Liddy knocked in vain for admittance, but Elsie refused to open the door, and begged the old nurse to go back to her bed.

Liddy wont tQ the kitc hen, j ,Ir ;wever, and sat there waiting for | "George to return, feeling that she ;.ould not rest till both her nurslings were safe under the cottage roof. He came back at midnight, _ a white-faced man who took no notice of the old woman crouching before the fire. He strode slowly to his room, and there was a look on his face that made Liddy sick with terror, fearful of what might have happened. She went up stairs and preyed for the dawn ; but the dawn, when it came, only ushered in a day of trouble and dismay ; of despair and tears. ■ Elsie was not to be found in her room. She had evidently leit the cottage early in the morning. leaving a letter pinned to the pillow of her bed —a letter addressed to Liddy in which the girl explained that life had become too miserable and hopel- - to endure, and that death was now her only refuge. Liddy brought the letter to George who was still in bed, and looked as if he had not slept during the night. He read it through and then he crushed it up in his hand. "Perhaps she is right," he said. "Poor, unhappy Elsie may have acted wisely, for Clinton Teele won't marry her, Liddy." He then went on to explain how he and his sister's betrayer had met the night before—had met and parted, finally and for ever. Then the young man abandoned himself to a passion of sobs, lamenting the fate of his sister whom he had loved and of whom he was so proud, cursing the man who had brought her to hei end., To be Continued.