REGINALD'S FORTUNE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXVIII, Issue 8508, 7 March 1891, Page 3 (Supplement)

REGINALD'S FORTUNE.

BY MRS. HARRIET LEWIS, h 0 "Lady Roslyn'sPensioner," " The House of Secrets," " The False Heir," " The Heiress of Egromont," etc.

CHAPTER XI.

REGINALD HEARS TIIE FAMILY LEGENDS.

a what ran I pay thee for this noble usage But grateful praise? So Heaven itself is pauV^ Mr. Ckoss returned to the morning-room, v here the gas was now burning, and where Air. Aylmar awaited him. •'You have secured thorn?" asked the gentleman. 5.. y es> sir. They're as safe as birds in a cage. Won't you come down and have a look at 'em ?" "Oh, no," replied Mr. Aylmar, with an instinctive shudder. " I am very much obliged to you for your very efficient seriice's Mr. Cross, and should I ever have occasion, will call upon you again." This compliment was enforced by a banknote of liberal amount, which Mr. Cross accepted, with a radiant,countenance, and ; i small amount was handed to him for each of his assistants.

"As 1 leave town in the morning, Mr. Cross, ' continued Mr. Aylmar, "I trust that it' will not bo neccessary for me to appear in the case. My young friend need iiot be mentioned at all. You can arrange the matter, I dare say !"

" Certainly, sir, certainly," responded the officer, rubbing his hands. "1 am sure you need not appear at all in the matter, lined-night, sir." He took his departure, after reiterating his thanks and expressing a wish that he illicit be called upon again soon to protect Mr. Aylmar's property, and in a few minutes more the area door was locked behind the party of constables and prisoners. The next morning, when Reginald and his host met at the breakfast-table, the latter said: '• Well, my boy, the affair passed off very well last night, and the burglars have been lodged in gaol. As you and I shall not bo -ailed upon to appear as witnesses, wo will start for the manor to-day. I suppose your wardrobe was burned ?" " Everything I owned, or nearly everything was burned," responded the lad, for the first time giving a thought to his losses. "My clothes, my luooks, my trinkets, all _ * iM gone !" Mr. Aylmar was tempted to smile at Reginald's rueful countenance, and replied : " But more can be got, I hope. I have sent a note to my tailor to come for your measure, and he will send everything you need within two or three days. As to books. I will make over to you all my old school-books, story-books, etc., immediately Dn our arrival at the manor."

Reginald thanked his friend gratefully, and preserved silence while the latter perused his paper. In due time the tailor appeared, performed the task required of him, and withdrew.

A brougham soon after appeared at the door; Mr. Aylmar and his protege entered it, and were driven to the railway station, arriving in time ior the train, and proceeded on their way to Lincolnshire.

On arrival at the village nearest Aylmar Manor, the family carriage was found awaiting them, and, after a charming drive of three miles, they turned from t.he pleasant country road into & handsome park, in the midst of which was situated the stately manor-house.

A more extended description of Aylmar Manor may not be unwelcome, since it was the pride of the country for miles around. The house was a large, square building, with extensive wings, built of stone in the most substantial manner, and ornamented with the various improvements of modern taste. In front of the dwelling the lawn was dotted with noble trees, which stood singly or in clumps. These trees were simply the edge or fringe of the park, which stretched away on one side of the mansion in charming luxuriance. On the other side the shade was far less dense, and in the summer time fountains sparkled in the mingled shade and sunshine. As the travellers drore up, however, there was little in the scene to tempt a prolonged survey. The wind blew coldly through the gloomy firs; the dead oak leaves fluttered over the ground, which looked singularly green for December ; and the statues and urns which were scattered among the trees looked like ghosts in their unreal whiteness.

" Well ; we're at home, my lad," said Mr. Aylmar, as the footman opened the carriage door, and the principal entrance to the dwelling simultaneously flew open. " Come !"

He led the way up the steps into the handsome hall, wbjre the servants were collected to greet their master, and, after acknowledging their hearty salutations, conducted Reginald into a room which presented a perfect picture of home comfort.

" Sit down by the fire, my boy," said the proprietor of the mansion, with kindly heartiness. "That's right, take an easychair. Our drive has brought some colour to your cheeks." " I wish I could always stay here, Mr. Aylmar," sighed the lad. placing himself in a corner by the fire. " The manor must be beautiful in summer."

"So it is," declared, the gentleman, pleased with his guest's admiration of his own favourite home. " There are beautiful views from the house and grounds. In a day or two, when this sudden streak of cold weather has passed, you will find the manor charming enough even in winter. I want you to make yourself at home, my boy, and go through the picture-galleries, conservatories, and the whole house. As I like rest and quiet, I'll send Podley with you, and he shall relate all the family history to amuse you." Reginald thanked his friend warmly, and expressed a wish to look at the pictures.

Accordingly, after an early lunch, Mr. Aylmar rang for his butler, who had preceded him to the manor, and said : " Podley, show this young gentleman the picture-galleries, and entertain him." The butler bowed, pleased with his proposed task, and conducted Reginald from the apartment, leaving Mr. Aylmar to his books and musings. They passed up a stately staircase, along a wide corridor, through various passages, finally arriving at a magnificent apartment of unusual length and breadth, which was lighted by windows overhead. The floor was of polished oak, almost black with age, and the panelled walls were fitted with rows and double rows of pictures of great value and beauty. One side of the room was covered with the masterpieces of world-renowned artists, and Reginald gazed upon them with wondering delight. " Oh, how beautiful he murmured. " How real those summer scenes look! I can almost feel the warmth of those glorious sunsets."

"Oh, 'tisn't that, Mr. Reginald," returned the practical butler, " it's the lire that warms the gallery- The master loves to sit here or walk to and fro, so when we're at the manor the picture-gallery is always warmed—that is, if it's winter. His favourite spot is the window seat at the end, for there's a splendid view to be had from it. If you look at the pictures closely," he added, " you'll see the card of the painter stuck in the frame. The master could tell who painted any picture, I believe, just by looking at the style." Reginald expressed his wonder at Mr. Aylmar's remarkable knowledge of pictures and painters, and Fodley, flattered in his iffeetion for his masCer, responded : "These pictures are all well enough, Mr. Reginald, and cost a mint of money, but to 3iy mind the family pictures are more interesting. Won't you take a look at them now ?"

Reginald replied in the affirmative, and the butler conducted him across the gallery, and to the end where a deep window looked out upon the lawn, and said :

This double row here, Mr. Reginald, contains pictures of all the Aylmars, and a noble race they were, if I do say it, and as you can see for yourself. This one," he added, proudly and pompously, indicating the portrait of an old gentleman with remarkably long hair, was the earl, the ancestor of my master, and a grand nobleman he was, too. If Mr. Philip hadn't been a younger son of a younger son, he'd a' been an earl this minute, which he deserves to be."

When Reginald had bestowed sufficient attention on the portrait of the earl, Podley introduced to him the picture of a stately dame, in a reifcarkably fantastic costume, who was declared to be the. earl's lady. And wasn't she a beauty ?" asked the butler, admiringly. " You don't see such lace ruffs nowadays, and that diamond stomacher must have cost a large fortune.. But the family could afford it, Mr. Reginald. Though Mr. Philip is a younger branch, he is very rich." ■ rom the illustrious pair whose portraits headed the line, the butler proceeded' to other earls and countesses, commenting on their histories and appearances, and taking good care to show forth the family glories. Beside every portrait of a male member of the Aylmar family was one of a female, and, as the butler explained that they represented always the head of the house and his wife, Reginald took great interest in comparing then).

"'The Aylmars are a grand old race," remarked the butler, as proudly as though he claimed the Aylmar name and lineage. " The gentlemen have always been brave and generous, and the ladies have been always renowned for beauty and virtue. My grandfather and my father lived and died in their service, and it's the greatest grief of me and my missus that we've no son to follow in our steps," and the portly attendant sighed. " Ah, here's the picture of the pretty Lady Blanche. She is the heroine of one of the family legends. U ould you like to hear it ?"

" Oh, yes," assented Reginald, eagerly. "I like stories, especially true ones.

"The Lady Blanche," began the butler, " was the daughter of the earl you see there, and sister of that one. And. that reminds me that the present earl has duplicates of all these pictures in his own gallery— though that's neither hero nor there. The father of the Lady Blanche promised his daughter's hand to the only son of a marquis when she was a mere child. The two fathers made the match, and when the young lord and lady grew up they wore expected to keep it. Though neither had seen the other, both hated to have their future partner picked out for 'em and set themselves against the agreement. The young lord left home for a while, and the father of the Lady Blanche sent her here to the manor to stay till she should consent to marry his choice. The young lady got in the habit of wandering about the neighbourhood with her maid, in search of flowers, and on one of these occasions she met a young fisherman by the trout stream. I'll show it to you some day, Mr. Reginald. They met again and again, and fell in love with each other that—"

"And where was the young lord all that time?" asked the lad.

"I am coming to that, sir. The young fisherman didn't know the lady's name, and she was equally ignorant of his. At last they planned to elope, and then it all came out—the fisher was the young lord himself, hiding in the country from his father. They were as happy as anybody need be when they discovered each other's identity. There was a grand wedding soon after, and before many years passed Lady Blanche was a marchioness."

Proceeding from one portrait to another, the worthy attendant narrated various interesting and romantic incidents in the career of each, and finally paused before the last picture of the lower row, saying : " This picture is the portrait of Mr. Philip himself—the last of this branch of the family. It's the only one that hasn't a companion to it. How I wish the master would marry. I remember when he wasn't so grave and, what do you call it ?—oh, misanthropic as now. He was as merry a lad as you'd wish to see, and the pride of his lady mother's heart. But times have changed, and I don't believe my master will ever marry." "But he isn't old," suggested the lad. " If I were a lady, I'd marry him right off. He's the nicest and best gentleman I ever saw."

"Or- I either, Mr. Reginald," was the response. "There's but one Air. Philip in this world. He looks harsh, and sometimes speaks so—though never to —but his heart is as tender as a child's. He ain't what he was before he had his disappointment."

" Disappointment?'' echoed the lad. " Yes. I don't know as I'm doing wrong to mention it to you, you being his friend, though I've never spoken of the matter to a soul except my wife, Mrs. Podley, the housekeeper, you know. Sit down, sir, and I'll tell you all "about it." He placed a chair for the lad directly opposite the portrait of the present owner of the manor and stood respectfully beside him, until Reginald insisted upon his also taking a seat. After some demur he complied, and proceeded : " It happened years ago, Mr. Reginald, more than ten years ago, in ray lady's time, when there used to be great gaieties at the manor. The county families used to come on long visits here, and my lady and Mr. Philip—his father was dead—used to return these visits, and there were balls and parties and all that. I'm afeared we'll never see such gay and happy days again." The butler paused, gave' a moment to mournful retrospection, and continued : "Among the families they used to be intimate with were the Tracys—" " The Tracys !" repeated Reginald. "I know a Miss Tracy—a Miss Johanna Tracy." "Do you know her? Why, she's the very lady I'm going to tell you about —Miss Johanna Tracy, of Lincolnshire." " Yes, of Longholme." . It's the identical lady declared Podley. " Somehow 1 got the idea that she had married. She had a guardian in those days, and a nice gentleman he was. I remember one visit they made to the manor. The party consisted of Miss Tracy, her guardian, and a niece, or cousin, of Miss Tracy—the daughter of her half-sister or brother—a young lady about her own age. Miss Willa we called her." Reginald again interrupted the butler by declaring that he knew Miss Tracy's niece, little Willa Heath.

" She must be the daughter of that Miss Willa, Mr. Reginald. Mr. Philip fell in love with Miss Tracy, his attentions to her were delicate like, and he laughed and bantered with Miss Willa far more. Loving the master as I did, and seeing him every day, I couldn't help knowing the state of his feelings, although he never said a word about them. But servants ain't blind, sir. And it was plain to be seen that Miss Tracy returned his love. Bless her pretty face ! How she used to blush when he looked at her, and how shy she was ! At last, after she went home, he wrote her a note asking her to have him. I took the letter to the office myself, for he didn't want it pat in the regular post-bag ; and from that reason and his unusual manner I knew what must be the contents of the letter."

" Didn't Miss Tracy get the letter ?" " Yes, fast enough. I went every day after that for the letters til) the answer came, and I thought of course it must be favourable. But it couldn't have been, for Mr. Philip fell ill of a fever, and when he recovered Miss Tracy had left England, giving orders to her bankers to give no one her address. I'd like to know," added the butler, reflectively, " why she refused him. I know she set a great store by him. Women are all curious creatures, whether lady or peasant. I've always had an idea that Miss Tracy thought there was an engagement between Mr. Philip and Miss Willa, but then Miss Willa married a Mr. Heath soon after. This is a strango world, Mr. Reginald. And so you know Miss Willa's daughter? I'd like to Bee her. Is she like her mother ?"

"I don't know. Her mother is dead." The butler sighed again—his recollections having a depressing effect upon his spirits— and then his gazo rested upon the lad's thoughtful face. " I'm afraid, Mr. Reginald," ho said, " that I've been making you gloomy, and the master won't like that. There's a comical picture here of some cats I want to show yon, so you'll be smiling when you go back to Mr. Aylmar." The picture produced the desired effect upon the lad, his gravity relaxing, and the butler then proposed to show him over the entire mansion.

The offer was accepted, and Reginald was conducted through the great drawingroom, the well filled library, the pleasant morning-rooms, the late lady's boudoir, &c., and finally returned to Mr. Aylmar, well pleased with his experiences. "Well, ray boy," said the gentleman, laying aside his book, " how do you like the manor-house and its contents

" Oh, it's splendid, sir. And the pictures are magnificent. I never saw anything to compare with them." Mr. Aylmar smiled at the lad's enthusiasm," and remarked :

• "I suppose you have heard all the old family legends. Podley has them all by heart, ana delights in nothing so much as to relate them to a good listener." The lad blushed, the thought suddenly occurring to him thai perhaps he had done wrong in listening to the tale of Mr. Aylmar's "disappointment," and answered : '"Yes, sir; Podley told me something about every picture." Including mine, of course," said the gentleman. "No doubt you have learned chat, in his opinion, I am unparalleled. That butler of mine, my boy, keeps alive my faith in humanity. By the way, Reginald, 1 have been thinking that' I ought to write to your uncle immediately and assure him of your existence, otherwise he may take steps to enter upon the possession of your fortuno, if you have any." " But he will take me away from here," faltered the lad. >

"I need not mention your whereabouts, my boy, but he must know that you are still alive. Whatever he is, such communication is due to him and to yourself. But do not think I am going to give you up just yet. You must complete your visit to the manor."

Mr Aylmar was touched at the lad's silent distress, and endeavoured to cheor him, in which task he but partially succeeded. " Oh, if I only could live with you, Mr. Aylmar," sighed the lad, " I should bo perfectly happy ! You are all alone here, with no relative. Don't you want me to stay ?" This earnest supplication touched the gentleman's heart, and he realised that he was indeed alone at the manor, with no one to talk to besides his servants. Reginald's frank, enthusiastic character interested him greatly, and ho felt that he should really have an object in life if he could keep the lad with him and mould and train him as he pleased. At this very thought he felt a fatherly tenderness for the boy, and he replied : " We'll seowe'll see, Reginald. Have no, fears. Perhaps you and i may spend many happy years together." Mr. Aylmar was thoughtful during the remainder of the day, but wrote his intended letter to Mr. Reid Westcourt before evening, and insisted upon the lad enclosing a note to his uncle.

"Johanna has adopted Reginald's little friend," mused Mr. Aylmar, when the letters had been despatched, " and why should I not adopt the boy himself? I will study his character for a few days, and then, if I so decide, I'll take a trip to town and see if I can gain Mr. Westcourt's consent to keep the lad."

CHAPTER XII. INTERVIEW WITH FEN'NES. " Tremble, thou wretch ; Thou hist within thee uwlivuLed crimes Unwhipped of justice." Siiakespere; On the morning subsequent to the incidents related in the preceding chapter, Mr. and Mrs. Reid Westcourt were seated in their back drawing-room, engaged in conversation. The merchant wore a triumphant, yet uneasy expression, as if, while rejoicing over the success of all his schemes, he yet feared detection. Since he had learned "of the burning of his warehouse, he had scarcely allowed himself a moment of rest more than was absolutely necessary to his health ; and his assumed grief and astonishment at the event had created a favourable impression in all quarters. Hjs felicity would have been quite complete had not the instrument of his crime been detected and secured. As the case stood, he had every reason to fear that Fennes would, in his own defence, declare the whole truth of the matter. The very thought of such a betrayal brought a cold sweat to the brow of the merchant, and made his limbs tremble as with an ague. To prevent such a confession now became the principal object of his existence. He had not yet visited his unfortunate and less guilty confederate, partly because he feared to do so ; but he had determined to see him that very day and ensure his silence.

While he was so deeply absorbed in thought, Mrs. Westcourt laid aside the morning paper she had beon perusing, and took up some needlework which demanded her attention —the needlework being the re-trimming of a black silk dress with heavy bands of crape. She was attired in the sombre garb of woe, her dress being of some soft, densely black material, and her ornaments were of the plainest jet. "My dear," she said, breaking the silence, " how sympathising everybody is with our afflictions ! The morning paper I have just read has quite an article about your great fire, and asks if the lives and property of the community are to be destroyed with impunity by wretches like Fennes. It. speaks of your well-known enterprise, your lofty integrity, and excellent family, and calls upon the community to sympathise with you in your bereavement of a nephew and your pecuniary losses ! Don't you want to see the paper ?"' Mr. Westcourt aroused himself, and replied that he had glanced over the article in question but would like to see it a second time. His wife handed him the Times and he read the paragraph referred to, dwelling longest upon its concluding sentence, which was to the effect that it was hoped that the merchant's insurance would nearly cover hi? losses.

"My dear," resumed bis wife, when lie had tossed the paper aside, " what a terrible fate poor Reginald endured ! Who could have foreseen such an event when you put him into the warehouse ! I have been so overcome that I have declined seeing visitors since the tire. People are so inconsiderate, they don't give one a chance to have a decent suit of mourning made before they call, and, of course, it's out of the question seeing them in colours. Somehow one doesn't seem to be in mourning, or look at all afflicted, when in ordinary dress."

Mr. Westcourt did not appear to hear, much less to heed, those bits of feminine wisdom, and his wife continued, rather impatiently : "Do pay some attention, Reid. I want to talk to you aboutour future. We're very rich people now, with Reginald's fortune, and lam tired of town. You might buy a splendid country house, and obtain a seat in the House of Commons. At last, thank fortune, we can give up trade and see society ! I shall cut our present acquaintances immediately. Oriana is now an heiress. Seventy thousand pounds ! Ah, Reid, we are very rich !" The merchant assented, with a look his wife did not fail to notice.

"Of course, Reid," she said, with a sudden thought, " there can be no mistake in regard to Reginald's death. Of course he's dead ! But, then. I mean, they haven't found any bones yet." " Of course not," replied the merchant, turning pale. "The walls have fallen in, and his bones may not be found for some time yet. They may never be found, for it is most possible they have been calcined." " Ah, yes," said Mrs. Westcourt, thoughtfully. " Poor boy ! Well, it was very imErobable that he would have lived to attain is majority, and it's bettor for him that he has died young. By the way, Reid, the paper says you were insured. Will that insurance nearly cover your loss?" " Quite !" was the reply. ' " How delightful ! But do you think, Reid, the insurance companies will pay the money—the building having been set on fire, you know ?" "Certainly, they will pay it, Isabella. They insured against tire, and the fire has consumed my property. They can do no less than pay it!" " How strange that Fennes should have treated you so ungratefully, Reid. Hanging is certainly too good for him. To think, after all your kindness to him, too, he should burn your warehouse and goods. I shall never trust in looks again. How polite he always was when I went to the warehouse. 1 thought him a very nice young man." The merchant winced under these observations, and Mrs. Westcourt asked :

" What do you think they'll do with him, Reid? The paper speaks of his hardened bearing, for he has said scarcely a word since his arrest."

" I am sure I don't know, Isabella," was the reply. "Ho is of course a dangerous young man ! but I think they may let him off with—"

" Let him off 1 Why, he killed Reginald* and burnt your warehouse. As to the first," she added, lowering her voice to a whisper, " why, I am not sorry that we have come into possession of Reginald's fortune. Bub to think of .those lovely silks burning like so much paper. If I had only known the villain's intentions, I would have removed a stock of silks for my own and Oriana's future use.' Plain silks are always fashionable."

The merchant glanced suspiciously at his wife, and saw that no glimmer of the truth prompted her remark, and he answered, hypocritically: . . . , " Yes, Isabella, if we had only known. But regrets are useless, and Reginalds fortune is ample for all our wants." And you will retire immediately from that odious trade ?" . The merchant was about to answer in the affirmative when the postman's knock was heard. " Another letter of candolence, I suppose," he said. " I never knew until this misfortune came upon me how enviable a reputation I held in the mercantile world. It quite softens my grief." Before the lady could reply, a servant entered, bringing a letter to her master "From the country," he remarked, when the maid had withdrawn. " I wonder who it's from. The thing looks aristocratic." lie surveyed the heavy white envelope, stamped with a crest, and then tore it open, glancing at the date and the signature of the principle epistle, an inner one falling on his knee. " From the Hon. Philip ~ Ayltnar, of Aylmar Manor, Isabella," he remarked, complacently. "He was a great friend of my brother, and has no doubt written to express his horror at the fate of his son." "Air. Aylmar, of Aylmar Manor," repeated Mrs. Westcourt. You see, Keid, how ready people are to help us in society. But read what he says."

The merchant complied, but ere he had rend three lines he uttered a cry of mingled wrath and disappointment, becoming deadly pale. " What is it?" cried.the wife, in alarm. The merchant made no attempt to reply until he had finished the epistle, and then he gasped rather than spoke : " Reginald i 3 alive "Alive !" cried his wife. \ " What do you mean ?" :

" He is alive, and at Aylmar Manor." "Oh, how shameful!" ejaculated Mrs. Westcourt, in a burst of angry tears. " Are you sure it's true, Reid? The boy has been letting us think him dead all this while since the fire, and now to have it turn out so ! What does Mr. Aylmar say ?" " He says the boy escaped from the fire almost miraculously, and fell under his protection in a singular manner, which will be explained hereafter, or which the boy will himself explain. Ho says that he wishes to keep him at the manor a week, and will then see mo personally." "I wouldn't let the boy stay another minute," declared Mrs. Westcourt. "I'd telegraph for him to come home immediately, and then lock him up on bread and water. But what is that paper on your knee It was the letter of Reginald to which she referred, and the merchant read it aloud, interspersing ejaculations here and there throughout. It gave a history of the lad's adventures from the night of the fire, and concluded by begging to be allowed to remain at the manor as long as it pleased Mr. Aylmar. The letter caused both husband and wife terrible pangs of disappointment. Only a few minutes before they had thought Reginald's fortune theirs, and had dreamed of how they would spond it—and now they felt that the merchant would be obliged to resume his trade and devote additional years to business. They discussed the matter at great length, and the husband finally decided: " We cannot refuse Mr. Aylmar's request that the lad shall remain a week at the manor. Conceal your disappointment, Isabella. What would the world think?" This allusion to " the world " nearly throwMrs. Westcourt into a fit of hysterics, and she exclaimed :

"Oh, Reid, just think what might have been. And I've sent for my dressmaker to come and tit.me with mourning to-day. Still," she added, more hopefully, "theboy is not well yet, and he cannot endure many years!" The merchant's wife would have been indignant at such a heartless speech a week before, bub her disappointment in being compelled to resign her magnificent dreams, to give up the fortune she had already grown to believe hers, deadened her heart and sensibility. " We must make the best wo can of the matter, Isabella," said the merchant, when he had schooled himself to comparative calmnes?. "As you say, he cannot live long, and we shall be his heirs. I must go to the city now. We have a building offered us near the site of the old one, which very fortunately is unoccupied, and Hutchley is thero at work. Poor Hutchley ! He blames himself 'for having been absent ; and declares that Fennes would never have dared commit such an act if he had remained on duty. I must go down and secure the building of which Hutchley has taken temporary possession, and send on necessary orders to the manufacturers for more goods. ' He arose, donned his nut, and departed from his dwelling, but instead of proceeding directly to engage the building of which he had spoken, ho directed his steps to the prison-cell of Fennes. He had little difficulty in gaining admission to the presence of his late clerk, his name and appearance being sufficient, to say nothing of the gratuity he bestowed upon the gaoler, and the fact that the clerk had not yet been tried. The unhappy Fennes was sitting upon the edge of his narrow pallet, when his visitor was ushered into the cell, but ho did not look up or appear to notice his entrance.

lie seemed perfectly stupefied by his present situation, and his features might have been carved from marble, they were so impassable. His employer paused in front of him, regarding him narrowly, and, after a few minutes, broke the silence by saying : "Fennes, I have come to see you. Look up. Do you not. know mo ?" The unhappy clerk raised his head, surveyed his visitor, without any apparent surprise at his presence, and answered, hollowly : Ay, I know youknow you too well ! Tempter, you have hurled me to ruin !" The. merchant was momentarily appalled at the address, while Fennes continued :

" Know you ? The murderer of your innocent nephew, and no less my murderer. I would have been good and honest but for you. The world shall know you as I know you—shall see you without your mask of hypocrisy, as I see you !" "Hush!" said the merchant, nervously glancing around. " Don't give up thus, Fennes. You haven't told anybody — of—"

"Of our compact? Not yet. I reserve that for the crowded court and largo audience !"

The visitor drew a long breath of relief at tho assurance that his secret was yet safe, and seated himself beside the prisoner, who shrank from him with an expression of thing. " My dear Fennes," said Mr. Westcourt, endeavouring to regain his self-possession, " let us understand the case as it really is. You evidently fear transportation—"

"Transportation echoed Fennes, bitterly. "I fear death at the hangman's rope. I fear the death of—of a being too pure and good to be mentioned iii your vile presence. I fear a mooting with.the soul of that poor murdered boy. You know something now of the tortures I endure, and if there be such a thing as justice, you will be visited by such torments of thousandfold power throughout the remnant of your miserable existence."

"Hush, Fennes," said tho merchant, soothingly. "All these foelings are. unnecessary and useless. Reginald is not dead !"

"Not dead !" almost shrieked the miserable clerk. "Not dead ! Ah ! You mock me! You tell mo this that,l, may preserve your guilty secrct. Not dead. , Why, I have seemed to see his innocentfaco looking at me from every corner of my cell since that fearful night. I seem continually to hear his voice pleading for his life. Oh, Heaven !" he moaned, covering his face with his hands, why do I suffer, thus, and this guilty wretch beside me go . unscathed

The merchant recoiled before this burst of passion and excitement, bub when Fennes' voice had died away in one frantic sob, he replied: ■ . "I told you truly, —Reginald is alive. He escaped from the burning building." • ■ " But the chaplain here told me he was burned to death. The paperssay so. Prove to me that he livesprove it, I say !" Mr. Westcourb drew from, his pocket the letters he had that morning received from Mr. Aylmar and Reginald, and handed them to the prisoner. Fennes took them, dashed Ins hands over his blurred vision, and read them through. [To be continued 1