The Novelist. The Secret of a Crime.

Northern Advocate, 8 October 1887, Page 3

The Novelist. The Secret of a Crime.

\&t S-ivjjrdS Cobb, Jb.] \ £ha#c§r XXVI* _ sulfas— sib j_a__?_R__r_. is ____bA'tai-sr_.. , v; During the evening of the. day on 1 wlSfc-i jjroung Aldis Had -hade his sorrow- 1 M coMes-doti, Old Ben m_t his hep-iew ~\ ■ pn the quarter deck, and had the good £ lorrtune to meet him alone. He had been 1 seeking him, to caution him once more 1 against 8k Jeffrey... „.„•.. X ( doii'twailt,to ,worry you to be very i tkrefilll That ittetti will seek to strike 1 mo- through you. lam sure of it. I — have had a warning that I cannot doubt, i The baronet has discovered that I am 1 your uncle, and that lam the man who 1 helped to make it so uncomfortable for . him at the inquest of which I have told _ ArfEur .was very considerate of the old ] m&i's feedings. He asked no questions ; ] Dni only listened to what w&s said, and j promised that he would take heed. i A little later Bosalind and Lizzie came . np and ioined them. Uncle Ben at once i turned his attention to tie inaiu, leaving 1 t Arthur. . to entertain .the. mistress. The t jMte-veiw was not iohg,- T_h_ words i SpoKeh during the, brief tiinej full of < love 1 tod promise, would give theih food for t happy thought until they met again, c Their love had become a part of their c lives, to live while they lived; to fail only 1 when sense and reason were gone, . The ship was now close upon the Strait ( of Babel-Mandeb. On the day following the events last recorded she was hailed, t from a large lugger that had run up ] __.a-ther.weatHef*qtmrteFian3 offered a 1 {foot. A few questions and answers, all < in good English, brought out the fact i that the pilot whom Captain Fairfax had ] - expected was on board the lugger, and 1 ready for duty as soon as they would ] heave-to and take hbn. ' -\ The engines were at once stopped- and . the-±_a-tttopßMllaidaback: and ere long { the pilot had come over tlie £_de. He _ was an Arab, but a gehtleinah, t_nd spoke ( English almost like a native. He had i spent all his life in those waters and in ] toeneighourhood, and had been one of ] the as-dsttiht engineers in the construction 1 tif the Stiez canal; His name was Ben 1 Hj-3-ik: He confessed to having seen-'' fouf-and-fifty years, tyiit he did not look t 6ver forty*. The coming of the pilot caused the 1 crew to think more and more of home; 1 and it gave the passengers to realise that 1 their voyage was at least drawing towards 1 its last half. 1 Within' four-and-twenty hours after ] Ben Hasak had boarded the ship his .. , services were in demand. They were J entering that strait called " The Gate of j Tears," where constant watchfulness of f iiajteiiding danger was necessary. For a 1 little time Captain Fairfax was anxious t Mild kept the deck ; but soon . discovered j th_.t his pilc-t was not only perectly com- j tsitenttonavigrte the dfevious, danger- ] Hireiitened course, but also entirely trust- 1 worthy. At such times as Beit Hasak 1 was necessarily below, an old quarter- 1 -master — Paul Winter— was thoroughly j ''•>.;. «fe to t^nst to guide the ship on her 1 MOn. the third morning after the arrival < ;lhe|t-to_—whe& the ship hid entered . eEed Seaandouceuioi'e had a broad ->__- . iH-tipe of water upon either hand — it was _ tu_lf an hour after breakfast— our hero eat at the smaller tabic in the common i cabin engaged in writing. His back was j fawards the bulkhead, againstWjuskJ&fc, j table was se^ffidi^B-i^jji^osed himself to be the sole occupant. He was ! writing in the journal an account of the < passago of the •* Gate of Tears," and was ; deeply interested. By and by his pen began to lag, a ' sense of nervously irritability came upon him, as strange and unaccountable as it ] was unusual. At length the pen, as though of its own accord, stood still. The act was entirely involuntary and . incomprehensible. Finally, directed by an impulse that seemed to como from a source outside of himself,, he turned quickly and squarely around, and there, upon the transom-sofa, sat Sir Jeffrey, gazing at him as though he would look Sim through. Not untu Arthur had arisen to his feet did the baronet appear to realise that he had been detected. He started as a man starts from an oppressive incubus, and he gasped for breath. The youth looked upon him steadily and sternly. A cutting reproof was on his lips, but he did not speak it. He did not speak at all. At length Sir Jeffrey collected his scattered senses and tried to smile. "My dear Mr Ashton, pardon me, I fray you, -Really, I did not know what did. My thoughts were afar off, and I had no knowledg of where or upon what my gaze was fixed." The youth looked at him until jb.e shrank and quivered and cowered ; then, without a word, he turned and put away the journal and left the cabin. He could not have steadied Ids nerves to the writing of another line, in proper shape, rto have saved, his life. The look he had met oh Jeffrey Wyngold'a face, and in hia cruel, wicked eyes, had affected him deeply. It was as though he had awake-, ed from sleep and met the eyes . and - the horrible front of a monster serpent. Sir Jeffrey, when the young man had gone, sat and gazed upon the now empty space where he had last seen him. " Enough ! enough ! " he at length gasped, clasping his hands convulsively " I am as sure of it as I could be if I had seen the whole from Jbeginning to end. Now see!" He case a quick glance around to make sure that he was alone; and turned back to his reckoning. Ho placed the index finger of his right hand upon the palm of the left, as though there to check down the points as he made them. " Now see ! " he repeated : " the face, the figure, the eyes, the hair, everything, in short, are his ! That I saw when first I beheld him. And, moreover, his age tallies exactly. About that time, when this boy was "born, Sir Thomas and Cecil went to Ipswich, and were gone two or three weeks ; I don't know but more ; perhaps four. These two — uncle and nephew— came from Allanport. That was their home, and there, I beleive, Arthur was born, at the very time when Sir Thomas deposited, that large sum of money in the hands of his banker. **i Why may not he and Cecil have gone to Allanport? Ah, they did. What did they go there for? What was that money put in the bank for? What did

the old baronet leave Beh Burton fiv thoiisahci Jfoiinds > "Aye," he cried, smiting his clenched hand upon his knee, " and that thing which old Brodie thought to keep from me. The old man would have altered his will if he had lived twenty-four hours longer. Why was that? By Heaven! it could have had but one meaning. _tti_r6 tad been a change in the family, -that's the truth. 1 Enow it. 1 know it;" . . ■. ■ *&. .-,. . "But why cav|.tiiey %pt it hidden all these years ? Was it beoaiise they feared for the brat's life if I knew it; ? " At this point his face had become awful to look tipon. He arose to his feet with tiis hands still clasped, and gazed upon the spot where the young clerk fat at his Writing. 86 ___ stood for, pOrh»|bs, ten 3econds ; then his bloodless lips p'jtirted, and he muttered in a hoarse, horrible whisper: " "Ah"! if they thought that, why — why-v-have they crossed my path aowP" , ( ic u_.o_nent longer lie stood, gazing aponthe old spot, and then. turned and walked slowly to his stateroom. He there drank a large portion of brandy, after which he laved his face in cool, fresh water, and then went on deck. On the evening of that day Arthur and Rosalind left the cabin together, in company with the captain. Sir Jeffrey stood neat the wheel* and .watched them as they emerged froim {he co_._ipanio_-.-way and walked aft.. That was.anothei. jfoint that had been to him the source of much speculation. __« £s!ei ve d the captain to be in the old gunner's Secret. Umy in that way could he account for his _na^ked.frienj_sbij) towards his clerk. If theird were iidfc sot-iet-tingf that - did not. ippear on the surface, Fairfax wo_ld,npt „are to countenance the love of Rosalind Archer for Arthur Ashton; and that he -lid countenance it was patent to all who ihooseto see and understand. As for Philip, he ceased to. force his attentions upon the unwilling maiden. If he bad ever teally loved her, be might not have been so easy and quiet pvfef thg ijiatter 3^ b^tj v truly, the. idea of marriage between himself fcnft Rosalind 'hid T)een, from, first to last with his father; Not only had he never loved her ; buthe had cared nothing for her wealth. He had never yet felt anything akin to a desire to increase his store. Since he could remember he had been able to command more money than he could spend. If he thought of the future, that was amply provided for. He had a fortune of fifty .thousand pounds lef thim by his radtHer— a legacy which she had received from her grandmother; also he was his father's only heir. Why in the world should he worry himself about money ? Moreover Philip was not a marrying man. So he himself declared. sHe-had told his father so many times. He did not care to surrender his liberty yet awhile. Had there never been such a man as Arthur Ashton, it is doubtful if he would everhavegivenaserious thought to the wooing of Miss Archer. It had been only a spirit of pique — of rivalry — against the young and handsome clerk. Seeing that Ashtoij evidently admired the girl, he had been willing to step in and cut him out; and he would probably never have done even that had not his father urged him on. However, when he had found that the case for him was hopeless, he had taken himself out of th c way without a- pang to his; affections-— without a single grief ; but not without anger' and wrath* Hia anger, against the fortunate rival was bitter and deep. It was, sb far as he was personally concerned, a dog-m-the-manger spirit ; yet even ;tit_a.t '• passio_i'~hat-red bf Arthur. Asiiion— had teen fanned into . a . mo_.e intense heat by hw father. • Phillip did not flee to drink to drown sorrow. Nothing of the knd. He had^ inherited the passion ; it hac_Jjoefl fe_rn IB hwi__^gfodegi^^ was a part of his nature, and had been since his early boyhood. During his stay in Calcutta he hud associated with a dissipated and. depjftved cja^is,>entering into, all the vices lof-Wsetvihero. open.- to hiiii; and be sure they were many, and some of them deadly to all true manliness and honour. Since setting out upon the present voyage the youth had seemed to give himself wholly to the cruel appetite. Even during those few days in whichrhe was particularly attentive to .Rosalind he was. drinking deeply and often ; so no one could say that her coolness, or the advent of a favoured rival, had driven him upon the road to destruction. He drank more and more ; and the more he drank the more he craved. His system was becoming hardened to it— his nerves fairly indurated. His father spoke but in vain. One day, as the ship was passing the small islands at the entrance •to the Gulf of Suez, while the baronet and his ] son chanced to be in the cabin together, and alone,— the latter having just come from his room, where he had been to get brandy, — the father spoke. There were deep pain-marks, on his face, and his voice was pitiful. He would have wept had his eyes been capable of it. •' Philip ! dear boy ! — Will you give me one moment of your time p I know you wilL- . fcUtdown, dear boy, and give to me your attention." "Look here, dad, — (hie) — wha"r yer igoiu' t'say. $h? I., (hie) donV.want'r }%il£r*| I fishfyeM le'; me Tbne. ,,: ' He was hot now what- could be called drunk: His voice had become habitually thick, and halting ; he "clipped -bis words,- because hia furred lips and bloated tongue would not pronounce them ; the hiccough had become chronic. It is not a pleasant exhibition, and a desire to be graphic shall not Jlead [us tp transcribe any more of his drunken idiom. " Philip, just one word. You must ! Do you know you are killing yourself P — Oh ! you heed -not ; laugh. ; It is true what I am telling you. What heart shall I have to help you if you. Avill not help yourself ? If you will persist in throwing your life away, what earthly object have I to labour for, or hope forP" : There was something so solemnly serious — so pitiful and pathetic, in his father's tone and manner, that the youth was moved to give him his attention. The parent saw and went on, quickly, determined to say nothing that could wound or offend : "OI my dear, dear boy! If you knew how my heart yearns towards you. You are my all — my all ! And, boy, — there is an enemy in our path ! How can I find strength to meet and overcome him if you will not give me your help and support ? " "An enemy, father?" Philipi cried, his tones quite natural under the mr fluence of quick and strong emotion. "Who is it? Is it Ashton P" (To be continued.)