SAVERNE’S DOUBLE

Northland Age, Volume IV, Issue 49, 27 July 1908, Page 2

SAVERNE’S DOUBLE

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(Copyright.)

THE ANVILS OF THE ' ALMIGHTY,

By J. Monk Foster.

TART 15. chapter XXXIV. THE .LAST OF DICK FELL. To strip the drugged man of his coat was no easy or quick operation, and both men were required for the task. But it was done, and then, unbuttoning the right sleeve, and running the white linen anti undershirt up to the shoulder, the whole of a massive and linely-shaped arm was laid bare. Thereat a cry of different significance fell from the mouths of both meq. That which fell from Thur-ston-Saverne was one of surprise in the main, whereas his companion’s was pure amd unalloyed satisfaction « .alone.

There, on the upper surface of the thick white forearm, was an unmistakable black biand, almost an inch in width and quite four or five inches in length. To men accustomed to the mines, as Thurston-Saverne and Rufford were, it was plain to understand how that bluish-black . Mark had come there. It was the Inevitable hall-mark of an injured miner, and would distinguish its wearer as long as he existed. With a muttered word to his companion, Rufford allowed the loose sleeve to fall, and in an instant was on his knees beside the still quietly unconscious man. The rest of the disrobing or uncovering operations ♦fe could manage unaided, and meanwhile his master stood ready with the chloroform in case it was needed. But the man gave no sign of recovery yet ; his deep breathing went on as at first ; and presently a right trouser's leg was rolled up as the •hort-sleeve had been. There, too, was a dark and indeliblo brand on the outer side of the great calf, but,, in this case less black and as broad as a man’s hand. Both men examined it, then the garment was dropped, and two satisfied investigators rose from their Btooping positions with stern faces, i "Are vou thoroughly satisfied now Thurston-Saverne ?"• Rufford asked quietly. , . "yore than satisfied," was the aniwer.

"Do you think it necessary that Miss Thurston-Saverne should see this ? ”

"Not at all. Leah will take our words for the truth ; but I was wondering if another witness might be requisite ? " "I think not. sir," Rufford said. "If the police of Blackburn and Burnley were called in they would be able to identify our friend in a moment." "How so ? " "Because when he deserted Mrs. Fell all particulars relating to his ippearance and marks upon him were sanded to them and these very narks you have seen were duly loted."

"Ah ! I understand. And now, ay dear Rufford, what next ? " "Wait till our caged rat recovers, ind prepare ourselves for the row we may expect then," ‘was the manager's jool rejoinder. "Right. And a drink in the meanwhile, eh ? " "A drink and a smoke, if you please."

The master of the house found whisky and soda, mixed two large glasses and they toasted one another quietly. And even as the glasses touched their lips a sound dragged them around to find that the drugged rascal had recovered his wits and was sitting upright, while he stared about him in a confused manner.

"What's wrong ? What has happened, Mr. Thurston-Saverne ? " he exclaimed, at last, a marked change spreading over his face as his gaze fell on Rufford. "I drugged you for a purpose that has served its end most beautifully, my dear cousin," was the mocking answer. "If you will examine your right arm and leg you will understand what I mean, Mr. Richard Fell.".

Then for the first time the trapped adventurer ’ seemed to realize the position of things. He glanced at himself coatless, slowly fastened his ihirt-cuff, straightened the disarranged trouser’s leg, and theh addressed his host. "What can you mean, sir, by calling me ‘Mr. Richard Fell * ? You are Jesting, I suppose, but I do not care for such Jokes.' 1 "I am not Joking, rascal ? " Thur-Iton-Saverne said sternly. "I mean exactly what I said. You are Dick Fell, the wife deserter ; and the comrade you buried was my kinsman, Aaron Saverne.'* "It is an infamous lie ! Who says l am otherwise that what I pretend to be ? Has this man been stuffing you up with all that cursed nonsense ? " "Take things quietly, or I may oot spare you, my man ! " the master said. "Who and what you are is settled now for ever, and so we will not discuss that point. There are grooms within call, and police in the village, and if you don't answer several Questions to my satisfaction you may rest to-night, not at Woodlands, but inside the lock-up. Now, put on your coat and listen to me." "Well, what is it you w’ant ? " Fell asked smothering a strong impulse to vent his spleen in a volley of curses, as he rose and put on his coat, all the while thinking that he would like to set his heel on one man’s handsome, florid face. "Admit at once that you are Dick Fell, and that the man who accompanied you here was really my kinsman," Simon said. "Do you think me fool enough to

Incriminate myself ? " the foiled adventurer asked. os he flung himself agnin in his chair. "No word you speak to-night shall L* used against you at any time : avd if you are reasonable, I will not —*uto vou at all. I give you

my word, and you should know that lam a man to keep it. Now your answer."

"Well, then, I am Dick Fell, and the man who came with me from South Africa was really Aaron Saverne. But for me he would never have come, for I was the one who saw your advertisement in the. paper."- . "And how came you to put yourself into his place?" . "He lost hia life as you know and I did my utmost to save him ; apd then, when I found h£ was really dead, the idea of passing myself off as mj r friend came into my mind. I wanted to better myself, here was my chance, and I seized it.'*’ "But you had no idea, then," the master went on, "that I was going to do so much for Aaron 6averne ? " ' , ,

"I hadn’t, nor had Aaron Saverhe himself. But ho had told . me that he was to become chief manager here some day at a big screw ; so when he died, I posed as him, took his certificate, and trusted to luek."

"And you see where your luck has landed you, Mr. Fell."

"If that woman and this man had never set foot in these parts, sir, I should have prospered, and never been found out," Fell cried, sullenly. "But I had gone too far then to think of running away. So I resolved to stay and fa;ce the music." "And find t-he rhusic unpleasant,” Simon commented. "Now, Fell," he added, "tell me this. In my safe here I have a Bank of England note for fifty pounds. That note was one of twenty for a like sum which you drew from the bank at Moorclough. With that thousand pounds did you intend to bribe Mrs, Fell ? "* "I did. She took the money, refused point-blank to quit, threatened to expose me, and then drove me from the cottage with a revolver. That was the truth, so help me God! In her death I had no hand." "I believe that, and so does Mr. Rufford ; but you must have returned to the cottage later.’’ "I did. I was -desperate. I went back to beg her pardon, and found her dead in her chair. The notes I took from her breast—all save one I overlooked."

"That one your stepdaughter found and so it came to me."

"To you through that man there," Fell growled. "Well, J have played for high staked, and lost, that’s all." "And now what am I to do with you ? " Thurston-Saverne asked.

"You are clever, unscrupulous, a danger to society—and yet I have given you my word. I was unwise. I fear, in promising to do so much." "And yet what have I done, after, all ?" the trapped adventurer asked, boldly. "In posing as a dead friend, whom I resembled so much, was I sinning beyond forgiveness ? I honestly thought then of becoming a mine manager, merely, with my dead friend’s ticket. That alone would have been a fortune to me. But you wouldn't have it so. You would have it that I was Aaron Saverne, and it wasn’t for mo to deny that. And it suited you to loa-d a relation with favours—cotton mills, a country residence, a banking account, and other trifles, was it for me to grumble ? "

"But you must not forget, Mr. Fell," Thurston-Saverne replied, "that the law an-d police would take another view of the matter. You were a pretender, an impostor, a forger, too, every time you put Aaron Saverne’s name to a cheque."

"I am as God made me, Mr. Thur-ston-Saverne, and I rest on the promise you made me. I pray you to give me a few hours' grace and Lancashire—England—shall hear no more of me."

"It shall be as you wish, then," Simon replied. "Until noon tomorrow I give you to quit this place for ever. But do not go near the mills or banks, I pray you. Now go."

"Give me a drink first, please— Not that cursed stuff ! '*' he cried, pointing to the half-emptied bottle of wine—"but some whisky neat !" With a half smile Simon poured out a stiff tumblerful and handOd it to the rogue, who wa3 taking his beating with such a good grace ; and after drinking it, Fell crossed the apartment, and opened the chamber door, to pause on the thredhold. "Will neither of you shake hands with me before I go ?" he asked then. "You, Mr. Thurston-Saverne I shall never forget on account of the many favours I owe you., But you have one fault. If a man can be too just and generous, you are that man ! As for you, Philip Rufford, I can only say this : As ~a lad I liked you, and even as a man I admire you still. Had I been in your place I should have done as you, have done."

Neither of the men addressed offered to rise from the seat he had taken, but Simon spoke, and in no harsh way.

"You have cost me a pretty penny Mr. Fell," he said, "but I forgive you all that, now. And you are likely to cost me a great deal more, yet—in the way of chaff, I mean.” "This is all I care to say to*you, Dick Pell," Rufford remarked. "When I was a youth there was no man living I admired more on account of your good looks, cleverness as a pitman, and a certain trait of daredevilry in your character. But I cannot forget that you were a rascal too, a wife-deserter, and a swindler. With such men I don’t care to shake hands."

"Well, good-night, gentlemen." "Good night," the others replied ; and Fell went his way. "What a handsome rogue the poor devil is, Rufford ! " the master remarked, with a thoughtful smile. "Even now I can’t help feeling sorry for him."

"I was thinking almost the same thing, sir," the manager responded. "But while I don't object to your sorrow on the rascal's account, I would strongly advise you to look after your own interests first thing to-morrow morning."

"That shall be done. But after this night's work I do not fear that he will have the daring to present himself at the bank. And how tamely, quietly, and even pleasantly all this has ended ? I was in anticipation of blood and thunder, and other dramatic things." "In real life I imagine things must often happen so. sir." Rufford replied. "Even when cornered. Dick Fell hnd too keen an e.ve tonis own interests to make any row. I am only won-

dering now whf<s. part of the world Dick Fell vyill favour with his presence and his craft." ' "Just so. And now, my dear Rufford, shall I ring the and have Leah here 7 She will' be anxious to know how this chaos of affairs has arranged itself/’ "Do not, I pray you*" the manager said, earnestly. "It is getting late and I must go in a few minutes." •

"As you like,’’ Thurston-Saverne returned, regarding his friend and workman rather curiously. "Another drink' them 'before we part. Some time. I will try to thank you for all X owe you now,’*

Meanwhile Mr. Richard ‘ Fell, master no more .of The Woodlands and the local cotton mills, made his way, to that residence for the last time. An hour or two qgo he had felt as one ikay be supposed to feel when scaling the heights of heaven, now his sensations were those of a man who had 'only escaped hell by the skin of his teeth.

As he strode homeward through the summer night his crafty brain was busying itself with schemes regarding his own future. Where was he to make for, and how much plunder could he carry away with him ? Those, naturally, were his first considerations, and a score 6t ways of enriching himself hastily, ere h£ took to flight, presented- themsplves.; ’ Those notes On the" Bank of England were yet untouched in the safe, and with nine hundred and fifty pounds a man of his; smartness might go far. And that balance in the bank, which ran into five or six thousand now, was he to leave that? And yet, he pondered, to grasp at that was playing with fire. Even if he succeeded in obtaining all, -or a portion of that balance, was it not like forcing a merciful man to set bloodhounds on his track ? It was, and he resolved to risk nothing. And with that decision come to, he reached The Woodlands to find the comely, widow awaiting him, though all the servants were in fied. He knew Mrs. Robinson's feelings regarding himself, and was minded to speak out at last. "My dear Mrs. Robinson,” he began, in a familiar and quite jocular humour, as he sat down to a mouthful of supper, and a bottle of wine, "my game is played out."* "Does that mean, Mr. Saverne," she asked tartly, "that Miss Leah has refused you at last ? You’ve proposed, and been rejected, then ? " "I proposed long since, and wasn’t refused, my dear," he cried with a laugh, "and, but for an old friend of mine would have landed her, too. But ‘Mr. Thurston ' me no more, Nancy," he went on, "for I am no more ThurstonrSaverne’s than you are, and never was."

"What do you mean, sir ? " "Exactly what I say;’’ and he laughed boisterously at her amaze. "You yourself helped to bury Aaron Saverne and Mrs. Fell came to see that the wrong man was her runaway husband. , Oh, it was fine, Mrs Robinson, and everybody swallowed the imposition till my wife came to settle in the village, and that sly devil of a new manager came on the scene. *lt was ail true as the Gospel, I tell you.'i "if . you .are not drunk, sir, you must be mad ! " the widow cried.

"Neither, as you will find out tomorrow. I’m Dick Fell, all right, and have till to-morrow s,t nodn to clear out. What you know now the world will know in ‘twenty-four hours: But what I want to tell 3'ou is this : I like you ; I know you like me, and if you care to marry me, I am yours: Now, what do you say to that ? "

"I should be a fool if I did, sir ! " '"All right ; there’s no harm done, my dear woman. I have made you the best offer I can, and you can take or leave it. In a week or so I shall have settled down somewhere, and if you care to join, me I will send you word of where I am. That will show you, my dear Nance, that I can trust you._ Besides, I’m sick of rambling ; I want to settle down, and you'd better think twice of what I've said. Will you ? "

"Fell or Saverne, you are a devil ! " But the comely widow did not speak very harshly then, for the handsome adventurer ha-d his arms around her, and his bearded face was seeking her lips. Early next day Dick Fell vanished, and Moor Green saw no more of him and a couple of months; later his former housekeeper also left ’ the neighbourhood. Mrs. Robinson had disposed of her property, and with her daughter, 9he had, like another—sought fresh fields and pastures new. CHAPTER XXXV* THE WEDDING MARCH. Miss Salome Fairfax was still living with her uncle, Sir Miles of that ilk, at Dinglewood, Darford Green. Since her flight from London, on the eve of her pending marriage with Lord Loweton, she and her old sweetheart had not seen each other, save for that dramatic encounter in the dark near Moor Hall.

On the following day the beautiful and truant girl had sought the shelter of her own relative's roof-tree, and. explanations of her truancy whatever thej', may have been were of a character ,to satisfy both the baronet and the lady, that she had done a most sensible thing in running away from a blase man of the world whom she despised, and could never love.

Two days afterwards the disconsolate Baron Loweton had come hurrying up to Lancashire, intent on finding his lost love ; but he had*met with but small sympathy at Dinglewood. Sir Miles and Lady Fairfax had expressed their condolences in a perfunctory manner ; but as for Miss Fairfax herself, she had peremptorily and positively refused to see him, even in the presence of-her aunt. But Salome, who was nothing if not spirited and independent, had written a curt and scathing note to the middle-aged roue which had made even his ears tingle, and had driven him shamefaced from Ahe place, to plunge once again into the old life of dissipation. And the very next day Salome’s father, deserting his club and his cronies for the nonce, had come to lay siege! to the wilful-girl’s folly and obstinacy. He was put to rout also, and only less mercifully, and after that the woman was left in peace. There, in the comparative quiet of Dinglewood, she had leisure to Donder her own initial mistake.

and to dream her dreams, wondering if they could ever come true now. Intelligence of these things had been brought to Thurston-Saverne's knowledge by his sister who wentfrequently to the house of Ladj; Fairfax now that Salome had reap-, peared. Of course, Leah told Simon that he was foolish to play the resentful lover now that the one , woman he loved had come back ; but he was just trifle obstinate himself, and had thought a little anxious suspense would do his sweetheart no harm. And so matters stood on the morning after the final unmasking of Dick Fell. The master of Moor Hall and his sister were together a couple of hours before noon and he was preparing to fare forth. "May I ask where you are going, Simon ?'*

"To the colliery first, and then to my solicitors in town, dear," he said "Both will keep, Simon, I daresay; and why not go to Dinglewood instead ? You know who is waiting there. You love Salome—mean to marry her ; and isn't it sheer folly to inflict further pain on you both ?" "You are right, dear Leah. I have played the fool long enough, and I will go there now." Like a sensible lover he kisspd his sister and went.

Dinglewood was a much older place than Moor Hall and more picturesquely situated. A well-timber-ed dingle ran before it and a tumbling stream ; and it was while crossing the stone arch over the latter that Simon caught a glimpse of a familiar form only a little ahead, that made his heart leap. As he hurried onward the woman’s figure vanished down a side path, and stepping on the grass he stole after it almost noiselessly, noting the flowing lines of her fine form and watching the sunlight burn golden on her chestnut hair. LAs she seated herself on a bench overhung by some umbrageous trees he was at her side, softly crying her name,

"Salome ! '* "Simon ! You here ? " and her fine face flamed suddenly, to pale soon.

"I have news for you, but if the messenger be unwelcome " "Won't you sit here ?" she asked, lowly, gathering in her skirts. "And are you not curious respecting my news, Salome ? '•* "No. But if you care to tell me, Simon ? " "I do care ! I camo here to let you know before the whole countryside with it. You were quite right, dear, and I am here to confess it. The man to whom I gave a large slice of my fortune turns out to be a knave - . But he has gone ; we shall see no more of him, and I am master of my own again."* Then he had to tell her all, and he found the story sweet in the telling, because she listened to him so sweetly, questioning him but little, although . her shining amber eyes were often" on his own. And when his tale was finished he said : “Now that I am master of all, again, may I own you too ? " "Oh, Simon, how cruel to put it in that way. When I ran away from that man, didn't you know that I would have gladly married you had you been beggared ? But it serves me right ! " and he saw the tears roll down her cheeks then, so he kissed them away. "And you will marry me in a month ? " he cried, a little later. "Whenever, you wish me, Simon.’'' Then their lips met. Less than a' week after this, one afternoon as Miss Thurston-Saverne was leaving the Hall for a walk into the village, she came upon a taste-fully-dressed girl, whose face seemed somewhat familiar. Then in a flash she remembered, and her own sweet .countenance grew dark and hard at the recollection. It was the unknown lass she had seen twice in Philip Rufford’s company,—once to see him embrace and give her money, and later in the same lane, where the pair were out walking like pledged lovers. Those memories stung her, and she would have walked past disdainfully without another look had not the stranger spoken. "Excuse me, Miss Leah," the girl said, half-timidly, "but can you tell me if Mr. Simon is at home ? " "What is it you* want with him ? " Leah questioned, wondering that a man like Rufford should fancy a simple lass of this kind, pretty as she unquestionably was. "Your brother asked me to call some day soon, so I thought I would come this afternoon. He has money for me—a bank-note I found in my mother's breast after she was dead—and as I am going to be married soon he promised to give me a wedding present as well, Miss Leah." "Married !'■' Miss Thurston-Sa-verne gasped. "So you are Philip Rufford's cousin and he is going to marry you ? "Oh, no, Miss Leah ! -** and the damsel stared at the other woman, wide-eyed. "Philip is my cousin, and he has always been like a big brother to me. But—but, Miss Leah my sweetheart is a mechanic at Saverne's Mills—Ned Forrest they call him, ma'am. H Oh, what a load those few words swept from Leah's breast. In an instant she was a transformed woman, and all her natural sweetness of disposition had overflowed her like a great wave. She was all amiability in a moment ; complimented the girl on her approaching marriage with a descent young man whom she knew well ; said her brother was indoors, and insisted on taking Miss Rufford to Simon's own room ; afterwards adding fifty pounds to the hundred Mr. Thurston-Saverne bestowed on the delighted and wondering lass.

Several days after the occurrence of the foregoing episode Simon had occasion to mention to Leah that he had invited his manager to dine with them that evening. She had expressed her pleasure at that announcement, blushing a little the while, and that had caused him to remark quietly : "I was aware, my dear Leah, that you had not yet had a suitable opportunity of thanking Mr. Rufford for what he has done for us both, so this will give you the chance, eh ? "

"I am almost afraid to meet him, Simon," she said and her deep blush would have told him her secret had he not already known it. "Afraid ! " he chaffed. "It's the men who are afraid, and not the women, my dear Leah. I have not

forgotten s?hat you torn me oi ±turford, nor yet that sudden change of front respecting him. Whatever was ■it all,about, pray?" "A silly mistake of my own, Simon."

"And are you, who could talk common sense about my own going to let a mistake mar your own happiness ? WJiat rot ! Now, there is not a man I respect and admire more than Philip Rufford, nor one I would sooner call my brother-in-law. He is poor, but proud, and if any silliness of yours, dear Leah, has tended to drive him from you, let your woman's heart and clear, sound sanity bring him back again." "Am Ito propose to him ? No, no. A woman cannot do that." "You love him, Leah ? " "With all my soul, Simon.'* "Then love will find a way out, I think/? That evening, half, an hour after dinner, brother and sister and their solitary guest were in the drawing room where Leah was at the piano and singing. Presently Simon had glided from the room and left the lovers alone. Turning, Leah missed her brother, and was all a-tremble then. Rufford was sitting near. "Miss Thurston-Saverne," he began quietly, as the notes of music trem* bled into silenc'd, "would you like me to remain in this pleasant neighbourhood or go away ? " "What a question to ask, Mr. Rufford," she said, lowly, "and why put it to me ? "

"Because it rests with you whether Igo or stay. Leah, I love you:” and he stood beside her. "I know it must seem mad nonsense to you, all this. But I do love you with all my body and soul, and if I cannot have you I cannot stay near you. Now you know. Am Itogo or stay ? " "Stay, Philip, stay ! "

Then his arms were about her, and her kisses were as warm as his own. Within the month there was a grand double wedding in the village, and the readers may guess the names of the brides ana bridegrooms. That was a day long to bo remembered by the many hundreds who enjoyed the openhanded hospitality of the master of the Moor, for pits were idle; mills too, and there was an open welcome to all.

Later, when the honeymooning was over, one wedded pair settled down at Moor Hall, while the other made the Woodlands their homo, Simon Thurston-Saverne having bestowed the freehold of that estate as a wedding gift-upon his dear friend, Philip Rufford. THE END.