BETRAYAL OF JOHN FORDHAM.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXIII, Issue 10097, 4 April 1896, Page 3 (Supplement)

BETRAYAL OF JOHN FORDHAM.

NOW FIRST PUBLISHED.

BY B. L I'ARJKON', Author of No. 119, Great Porter Square," " Grif," "The March of Fate," "For the Defence," "Aaron the Jew," etc. [All Rights Reserved.]

CHAPTER XXl.—(Continued.) It was at this period that I received a letter from her mother. She said that her daughter did not know sho was communicating with me, and that her letter was posted by a servant in the farmhouse. There was something on her mind which alio wished to impart to mo, and she had also an earnest desire to see tho friend to whom they were so deeply indebted. If my engagements in London would permit of it she would esteem it an honour to shako hands with their dearest friend and confido to him a secret which was oppressing hor. The request came opportunely. Tho good doctor had spoken of my changed appearance, and had advised me to go into the country for a rest. " Would Swannago suit mo?" 1 asked. "I prescribe Swannage," he replied, smiling. He knew mo only as John Fletcher, and had no suspicion that I was a married man. I paid a leave taking visit to my solicitor, who did nob expcct mo; but there wero certain business matters to settle beforo I could go on my holiday, to which, having mado up my mind, I looked forward with eagerness. These matters arranged, ho said : " it would have been better, I think, if you had written to advise me of your visit." " Why ?" I asked. "I should have proposed another place for tho interview," he answorod; " Again, why?" The window of the room in which wo sab fronted tho street; a wire blind provontod anyone seeing into tiio room, bub those within could nee into tho street. " Don't go too close," ho said, pointing to tho window. "Is thore anyone in the street you know?" " There is a man on tho opposite side; he is a stranger to me.' "Not to me, though hois not aware of it. He is a private detective." "Well?" " Well!" he echoed, wondering thab tho meaning did not dawn upon mo at once. "Ho has been watching in this street for ab least a weok." "For whom?" " For you, I should say. Employed by your brother-in-law, I suspect. When you go from this houso you will bo followed." I caught my breath ; I thoughb of Ellon. " If you havo any dosiro to keep your movements from his knowledge," ho continued, "I advise you to bo on your guard." j I was silent a moment or two. " Whab does my brother-in-law expect to gain by watching my movements?" I askod. lb is a quostion 1 cannot answer, He is a vindictive man. Mr. Fletcher" never addressed mo by my right name— " you are, as I hope you believe, perfectly ! safe with me, and I havo no wish to pry | into your affairs further than tho confidence you havo reposed in m?. Indeed, unless you require my legal assistance in matters undisclosed, I should prefer not to be mado acquainted with them. Your brother-in-law quite understands that ho can gain nothing more from you in a direct way, but, eager for revenge of some kind, ho thinks thero is a chance of striking ab you through others— through a person in whom you take an interest." I had had sufficient proof of Maxwell's malignity to be sure of this, and I stood deliberating whab ib was best for me to do. Presently I said; "Would ib bo of any use for mo to remain here till night?" " Not the slightest use. I have had experience of these vermin, having occasion to make use of them myself occasionally. But you are warnod now, and must adopt your own mensuros." I I thanked him, arid bade him good day. ! Crossing the road I looked tho man straight

in the face; he did not return my look, but sauntered leisuroly along. He did nob, indeed, appear to take the slightest notice of me, but two or three streets further on I turned and met him face to face. Not at all discomposed, he pursued his way as if I were an object of indifference to him. I tested him again, with the same result. I called a cab and gave the driver instructions to take mo in an opposite direction to my lodgings. When I alighted there was the man, who must have followed me in another cub. I confronted him.

" What business havo you with mo?' " Hli ?" he exclaimed, vacantly. I repeated my question, "I might put it to you," he said. "I don't think I havo the pleasure of your acquaintance." "I don't desiro tho pleasure of yours," I retorted. " Why are you following me ?" " Don't talk nonsense," ho said, and moved away. I tosted him a third time; called anothor cab, was driven a mile, bub did not succeed in shaking him off. " When you see your employer, 1 ' I said to him, "you will havo nothing satisfactory to communicate. Are you a good walker ?" "That is my business," he said, civilly. " Well," said I, now quite calm, " let us have a walking match. I am curious to loam something of you." Instead of walking apart from him I kept by his side, and wo pacod street after street for an hour and moro. 1 forced him to assume the load, my aim being to ascertain whet he would take tho direction of my lodgings. That ho did not do so convinced mo (though I was & novice at his game) that ho did not know whore they were eituatod, and I was greatly relieved, lie went into a tobacconist's and purchased a packet of tobacco; I followed him and purchased somo cigars. Then we continued our walk, and trudged along for another hour.

It was now evening, and the street lamps were lighted. Suddenly ho stoppod, and, looking at me, began to laugh ; tho humour of tho filing soouied to strike him. Then, as suddenly as ho had stopped, ho darted down a side street and disappeared. Not assured that I had got rid of him, I kept on guard, and watched for him at every stop I took. I mounted an East End omnibus and rode to its terminal point, then mounted another and rode to the Swiss Cottage, scrutinising oach passenger. My reading had supplied mo with information as to tho wiles of the class rightly called " vermin" by my solicitor, and 1 was on tho lookout for a disguise. Alighting from tho 'bus, I took a four-wheeled cab and rode 011 tho box by tho side of tho driver, from which position I could ascertain whether I was being followed. At length, late in tho night, I was satisfied that I had boaten my tracker, and I pursued my homeward journey, still adopting ovory precaution. From this adventure I had learned one useful thing; 1 had been put on my guard, and I should havo been feeble-minded indeed if, with this advantage, I could not confound ray enemie3. That was my thought as I wont to bed, healthily tired out with my pilgrimage.

CHAPTER XXII. I now approach a period in my life which, in comparison with what I have already related, shinos like a garden in (in arid desert—a fair garden blooming with the flowers of peaco and happiness. Ib iB nob easy to say when I began to lovo Ellen, and she has confessed thab she does not know when alio began to lovo me. Chance, or fate, led us to each other, and has led us to the end, which is vory near. Much of the past I would undo were it in my power, but, although a miracle would be neoded to free mo from the peril in which I stand, I would not undo that part of it which Ellon and I shared togother despite tho fact that it may bo said to have croatod the mystery in which lam ontanelod. I havo road somewhere how a withored roso may bo restorod to freshness and sweetness. So was it with my life in tho hour that Ellen and I first met.

| I did nob go down to Swannago immediately. With tho knowlodge that my enemies wero ab work, I waited a fow days alert and on tho watch, and when I reached tho delightful spot it was by devious ways and cunning breaks in my journey which would havo puzzled tho smartest human bloodhound that could havo been sot to track mo. Moanwhilo I wrote both to Ellen and her mother, saying thab I intended to visit thorn shortly, and that no further letters wero to bo sei.b to mo in London. That was all the notice I gave them, and when 1 presonted myßolf it was at an unexpected moment. Tho day was bright and fine, tho sea calm and bonignant, tho air already fragrant with tho promiso of spring. I walked towards the farmhouse as a man newly born to joy mighb havo done. Friends true and sincere awaitod my coming, and thoso who have road these pages will understand what thab meanb to me. Ellen sprang from the houso ab my approach. Sho had seon my form in the distance, and, as I came nearer, rocogtiisod and flow to wolcomo mo, "My friend 1" sho murmured, holding out her two hands. I dropped my bag and clasped them. "Ellen — I beg your pardon, Miss Cameron 1" " No. Ellen, if you wish ib." Wo gazed at each other, sho with a blush on her cheeks, but with no false modeoty or roservo, and I in a dream of happiness. "I havo taken you by surprise ?" " Tho pleasantosb of surprises. Evory day we have boon hoping you would come ; every day wo havo boon looking out for you." " And your mother— is sho ?'' "Uottor, she says, and brighter—Oh, go much brightor! Whub do we nob owe you ?" " I bog you never to say that again. You owo mo nothing. One day I may perhaps toll you what I owo you. Your mothor is botter. That is good. And you?—but I noed scarcely ask." " I havo novor been so well."

" More good nows. The day la propitious. You saw rae coming "Mother and I were Hitting by the open window. Wo are nob overrun by company; that makes it all the more dolightful." "You are fond of tho country!" "I lovo it. Wo are closor to what is best in the world. There is my mother at tho window. Sho thinks ib bo strungo that she has never soon you." " Well, she will see mo now—and will bo disappointed." "Mo, no. That is nob possible. You aro her hero." " Ah, that makos ib all tho moro cortain. Wo raise an ideal; beat novor to soo ib in flesh and blood. Reality is a disonohanter. Far better to continuo to dream." Ah I ."aid this I gazed at Ellon, and there must have been a growing earnestness in my gaze. I hud raised an idoal of hor—had it mot with disappointment? I was selfconvicted. " I recant," I added in a tone of satisfaction. " I am glad," she said, and my heart boat more quickly at the thoughb that sho understood me. We were within a dozen yards of tho farmhouse. " Does your mother rocogniso us?" " Hardly. She is very short-sighted." " Let us walk quickly." Mrs. Cameron rose, hor hand ab her hoarb, in a state of agitation. I observed that sho rose with difficulty; before we reached her she sank into her chair. "Ibis Mr. Fletcher, mother." I preventod her from rising again, perceiving that she was nob strung, and 1 did not interrupt tho little speech in which she gratefully welcomed me. There was a strong likeness between her and Ellon; though worn with suffering, I noted the same delicately cut features, tho same trustful eyes, in which tho spirit of goodness shone. Sitting there, balking to her, it seemed to mo as if I had rejoined a family kpit to rae by cloeo ties of sympathy and kinship. Ellon had taken up her work, and was busy with hor neodle. " What is that you aro making?" I asked. " A dress for one of tho landlady's children," she replied. On a chair by Mrs. Cameron's side was anothor dress of a similar character. " We are not good dressmakers," said Mrs. Cameron; "bub we manage these little frocks very woll. Our landlady has a large family." "Aro you working for money?" I inquired, gravely. "Yes." "But ib is against the rules. You did nob come here bo work." " Wo cannot be idle," said Mrs. Cameron. ["It) is aofc work; ib iB pleasure. When

night comes we lay the needle aside. It was not so in London." "So I havo heard. Still, I repeat,you should nob work." "We should bo unhappy without it. We do nob tire oursolveß. How long do you intend to atay in Swannage, Mr. Fletcher " Several weeks, I hope. I am here for a holiday, by the doctor's orders." Ellen raised her eyes, "Thon you are nob well," said Mrs. Cameron, quickly. "I have had a great deal of anxiety lately. Don't look troublod. It is over now—happily over." " Oh, I am glad. Men, wo must take care of Air. Fletcher." The young girl nodded sympathetically. "There is a vacant room in the farmhouse," " No, I will find a bedroom elsewhere; but if you will allow me, I will take my meals with you." "It will bo a great pleasure to us. There is anothor farmhouse half a mile away, where you can get a room. Ellen will show you the way. Thero is no hurry for a few minutes. We must go into accounts." " Accounts "Yes," said Mrs. Cameron, and at a sign from her Ellen brought forward a small account book. " You havo sent us more money than we need. We can't quite keep oursolvos, but we can do something towards it._ You will find tho figures correct, I think, though wo are not very clover at arithmetic." It was useless for me to protest; they had their ideas of what was just, and sooing that I was giving them pain by objecting, I waived furtherobjection, and looked through tho book. Everything was neatly set down. I had sent them so much money ; they had earned so much ; their weokly account for board and lodging camo to so much ; and in the result there was a balance of four or five pounds, which they insisted belonged to mo, and which I was forcod to accept. If any proof were needed to convince me that 1 had been thrown into the society of ladies of scrupulous integrity and uprightness, it lay before me in this little account book ; ib increased my respect and esteem for them, and I thanked my good fortune for tho association, and inwardly vowed never to desert thorn. What tho mothor had to impart to mo was disclosed within twenty-four hours of my arrival. It was sufficiently grave, and strengthened my resolve to remain with them.

"My (lays are numbered, Mr. Fletcher," she said in a tone of much sweetness and resignation. "Ellen dues noli know the truth; I havo kept it from her. Dour child, she has had enough to bear. She has nursed mo for years, and does nob see iho signs which I feel are unmistakablo and irrevocable. When tho blow comes she will suffer terribly; it would be cruol to destroy the peace we are now enjoying. It is peace, blossed, blessed peace—peace and rest; and 1 wait with patience, and with inlinito confidence in the will of the Supreme. I think it will como soon, and as tho dear friend whom God sent to us in our darkest hour, 1 wished you to know. Do not think it is an old woman speaking to you out of her fears. I do not fear death. There is. a hereafter, and I shall see my dear child again when her time comes. I should welcomo the hour when I am summoned were it not for my darling and for the grief in store for hor." " You aro not old," I said in a low tone, "and there is still hope. Ellen tells mo you are only forty-live." " Yes, I know, I know, bub my sands aro run, and there is no appeal." And, indeed, as I looked at her I felt there was none; death was in her face, which, in her daughter's prosenco, ordinarily wore a smile.

"Thero is no hope, Mr. Fletcher; the most skilful modical advice would not avail me now. What mortal could do for mo you havo done; you havo prolonged my life, and I am inexpressibly grateful to you. Has Ellen told you we have no relatives ?" " No." "We have none. Ellen will bo left alono, to battle with tho world." " Not while I have life, Mrs. Cameron." Sho stretched forth hor trembling hand, and the expression on her face was that of an angel in tho act of blessing. " Oh, dear triond, dear friend !" she murmured, and tho toars ran down her chocks. " God sent you to us—truly, truly !" " It was for this assurance you sent for me." "I hoped for ib—prayod for ib—and my prayers are answered. Sorrow is our heritage, but the world is full of goodness. God never sleeps; His watchful eye is eternally oror us. You are young; never lose sight of this, never forget it, never lose your faith in Him. Ellen is brave ; she knows no fear, and is prepared to light the battle; faith and prayer aro her support. Thero is something I ought to toll you about hor, but) 1 should liko you not. to mention ib to her. Sinco we have been here sho has had an offer of marriage. A gentleman—no, nob exactly a gentleman in tho ordinary sonse—a man working for his living, came to this placo in the performance of a duty. Ho was unknown to us, but, his duty performed, ho camo again—twico. Lie had seon Ellen, and confessed his lovo for her, 1 need nob mention his name, for the affair is ovor, so far as we aro concerned. SIIO refused him, and ho appealed to 1110, and frankly oxplainod his position to me. His calling is not a high one, but ho satiafiod mo that he could keep a wife in fair comfort. Anxious for Ellon's future I spoko to her, and sho listened patiently; she is never violont or unreasonable. Her answer to mo was the samo she had given to him. Sho would never marry a man sho did not love. For one she loved she would make any sacrifice, endure any hardship, but whore her hoarfc was noli engaged she could entertain no fooling but friendship— and that was not enough. 1 did not arguo with hor; I mado 110 attempt to persuado her. Tho sentiments sho uttered were my own, tho lot she choso was tho samo I had chosen for mysolf. I marriod a poor man, and though ho died early and my life has been a lifo of struggle, 1 never repented, norer thought I had aotocl unwisely. So Ellon's suitor went away, bub I doubt whothor ho will over forgot her, Thoro was much that was good in him. Before ho left ho said that if it was ovor in his powor to servo hor she had only to corao to him and lie would do his best for hor. lam sure lie loved hor, and I am sure that Ellen, not loving him, did what was right. This is Ellen's flocret, Mr. Flotchor." " I will respect it," I said. " Unless she mentions it to 1110 herself she will nover know that I mn in possession of it."_ Thero was much more than this said during our interview, bub I havo given the gist of our conversation, and I left Mrs. Cameron with a sad fooling that her forebodings would be realisod. As, indeed, they wero before tho end of tho month. She snffored no pain, but became so feeble that she could nob take a stop without support. Sho did nob keep hor bod; by the doctor's permission, and abhor own wish, she sab at tho window during tho day in an oasy chair which I obtained for her. Thero sho could watch tho advance of spring and breathe tho balmy air; thero sho could soo Ellen and mo, whom sho sont frequently into the opon, saying ib would do us harm to keep constantly in doors in such lovely weather. Wo novor went far from hor; tho slightest motion of her hand, or hor gentle voico calling "John" or " Ellon," brought us to hor side, oager to do what she required. There was always a stnilo upon hor face, a smilo of peaco, and content, and love, and I think her last days 011 earth were tho happiost she had ever spoilt. Sho said as much: "I am quite, quite happy, dear children ;do nob griovo for me. In everything boforo mo 1 see tho goodness of God ; I seem to see His face." When she raised her oyos to the bright clouds ib was ray firm belief that she beheld a spiritual vision of His glory, and when she lowered them to earth sho saw a deeper moaning than we in tho evidences of His wondrous power. Sho drew keen delight from the flowers and birds, from the air which floated from the soa, from the early budding of the trees. Nob a murmur passed her lips, nob a word of complaining. "I shall see all these things with a clearer eye presently," she said, "and by-and-by you will boo thorn with mo. Bear your trials patiently; do your work in tho world, and lob your mind dwell upon His lovo and goodness." Sho relied proably upon me. Ib was I who carried her from room to roomEllen not being strong enough for the bask—ib was I who sat by hor side when sho insisted upon Ellen taking a little resb during the day. Ellen needed this, for I knew, without boing told, thab she watched by her mother's bedside night after night without) closing her oyes. Evory evening I read aloud a chapter from tho Bible; not in the stateliesb church was truer devotion felt than in the room in which she lay dying. Once, when wo were alone, she said;

"Ellen loves you,"she said. "You are a good man. I leave her in your care." "Do you love Ellon?" "With more than my heart, mother; with my soul." It was her wish that I should cull her " mother." On one occasion it escaped me inadvertently, and she asked me always to address her so. She spoke constantly of Ellon, and related stories of her childhood, drawing from love's memory instances of Ellen's sweetness and unselfish affection.

We havo boon very poor," she said, "hut we had ono priceless blessing—love." As with her towards Ellen, so was it with Ellon towards her mother. With tears in her eyes, the woman I loved rotated stories of the mother's continual sacrifices for her child; how had nursed her through sickness, denied herself food for her, even begged for her. There was 110 shame in these privations; tho recalling of them brought into play the tenderest feeling; all through, from mother to daughtor, from daughter to mother, io was a song of love, which it did mo good to hear. Unselfishness and self-sacrifice on either side, each striving to givo the other tho merit; poverty patiently borne, work which resembled slavery cheerfully undertaken, the hardest trials encountered with a brave heart; heroic qualities not properly recognised by mankind. Search behind the voil—there you will see the human pulse throbbing to the touch of attributes which it is not sacrilege to call divine. I was lifted higher by this intercourse; tho dust of self-complaining foil from mo ; I felt myself purified. New views of lifo opened themselves to me; I saw the poor in a different aspect. If saints aro necessary, seek for them in courts and alloys; you will find tho true ones clothed in rags. Such wero my thoughts then; such aro my thoughts to-day. I turn to the first pages of this Confession, and I recognise the littleness of spirit in which I wrote. I was forgetful of the lessons I learned from the lips of pure souls. I am reminded of them, and I will meet my fate bravely, without repining. Tho last day arrived. Thero was apparently no change in Mrs. Cameron. She sat at the window, smiling towards us. The birds were singing; tho fragrance of flowers was in the air. " Mother has fallen asleep," said Ellon. Presently wo wont sofcly into tho room, and stood by her side. We had gathered flowers which Ellon placed in a vase, within reach of tho mother's hand. Sho liked simple flowers tho bost, modest: stars, with tender colour, which grow by tho wayside. I hold my breath ; the light of lovo and pity shone in Ellon's cyos. Gazing intently at the white, still face, a sudden fear shot through mo. I stooped, and placed my mouth close to hers. " Mother!" cried Ellen, as I raised my head. Nover again on earth was that sacred word to rcceivc an answer. Ellen and I wero alone. [To bo continued on Wednesday next.)