BY DEVIOUS WAYS

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXIV, Issue 10404, 31 March 1897, Page 3

BY DEVIOUS WAYS

BY CHABLES GAHVICE. Author of " Just a Girl," " Queen Kate," "In Cupid's Chains," "The Outcast o! the Funily," etc, etc

CHAPTER XLI.

" Hbre is your daughter," said Mrs. Neil, and her hand stole to Nora's hair and slowly, gently, stroked ib.

There was an intense silence. Doctor Reilly came in from the adjoining room where he had been mixing a restorative, and before he administered the draught he paused and looked from one to the other with keen eyes. "Is she wandering?" Lady Esdaile asked, in a tremulous whisper; but it was Mrs. Neil herself who answered her.

"No, my lady. I am in my senses; I know what I am saying," she breathed, painfully. "Lady Blanche is my pirl. I exchanged her for yours. '■ Lady Esdaile shrunk back with horror and incredulity en her face. Lord Esdaile, with the instincb of an honourable man, stepped across the threshold and stood beside Blanche, who turned to him with a

harsh cry. " She is mad!" she said. "No," said the dying woman; "I am nob mad. I know what lain saying. Here stands your father, nob there. Look ab him —can't you see—see for yourselves that I am speaking the truth ?" They all looked, first at Blanche and then ab Culmer, who stood with his hands clasped on the back of the chair, his head bent; and as they gazed in stony amazement, the resemblance between the two was borno in upon them. Illness hud softened the ruggedness of Culmer's face, and the likeness to the girl's—as she stood white and terrified—was undeniable. "I—her daughter! It is a lie ! Do you know who he is?" she panted. "He is a thief, a low thief I He has been in prison, is a convict—" " Hush!" said Mrs, Neil, with sudden energy—the draughb had restored gomething of the waning atrongth. " Whatever he may be, he is your father. It is you who are his daughter; not this one. Look up, Nora. Look ab her. Is she like me or my husband? And look ab the other. Their— their voices are the same. Speak, James." Culmer could not obey; he opened his lips, but no word would come. » Why-why—if this be true, did you do ib ?" cried poor Lady Esdaile. Jlrs. Neil looked at her sadly. " Why not?" she said, with the calm indifference of the dying. " Why should my child, who had done nothing to desorve it, carry a load of shame through all her life 1 That's what I thought, as the baby lay in my lap and smiled up at me. It was in-nocent-innocent ! And yet I knew that all its life the disgrace and misery of its fathor's shame would cling to her. It wasn't jusb or right; and I brooded and brooded over it until the thought cam-!. The devil tempted me to put my child in the place of yours, to make it safe, to give ib riches and a title." She paused for breath, and Reilly raised her head. " A lie ! She's lying !" said Blanche. "You don't beliovo it!" Che turned to Lord Esdaile with passionate adjuration. "You can't believe ib. lam your daughter, you know it! It is a plot, a conspiracy, they have hatched amongst them. What could you expect ? A convict! Thab girl" —she pointed a shaking hand at Nora, who, white and breathless, clung to the chair— "is capable of any thing—any thing J She is an impostor already; and this—this—" Mrs. Neil moved her head from side to side, and moaned. " Stop her," she said. " Don't—don't let her go on. Have pity on her, my lady. It is hard for her to bear, Doctor—is the doctor here?" Doctor Reilly touched her. "I am hero, Mrs. Neil," he said. He was very grave, and his face absolutely impassive. Mrs. Neil looked up at him as if her sight were failing. "You —you remember? When—when my child wag born there—there was a murk —it was like a scar—upon her shoulder." He started slightly, and his lips came h>' : gether closely. "There was," he said in a low wise. " A mark that would last with life itself," said the hollow voice. "See—see if it's there now." Blanche uttered a low cry and shrunk back.

The doctor looked at her, then turned bis eyes away. Lady Esdaile covered hor face with her "hands. They all felt as if they aaw the mark as plainly as if tho wretched girl had bared her arm. No one spoke for a full minute. Of all who had listened and watched, the Esdailos themselves were the most convinced. There might still be doubts in tho minds of tho others; there was none in theirs. Lady Esdaile sunk into a chair and looked from one to the other in helpless misery. . Suddenly Culmer came from his place and stood beside Blanche.

" She's done no wrong," ho said, hoarsely. "She's innocent. It's not her faulb that she's my daughter." Blanche started away from him, but he went on. "I knew ib, 1 guessed it the moment) she came in. I saw tho likeness, though none o , you did. It was seeing her sudden like, I suppose, and a kind o , feeling here." He touched his breast, and his eyes grew moist. There was a pause, and then he put his hand timidly on her shoulder. " Don't—don't be afraid, young lady," he said in a thick voice. " I'm—l'm not going co claim you. I sha'n't ever trouble you. I'm leaving England when—" He glanced toward the dying woman. " Only—only I oughb to tell you that—that I'm well off and able to—to provide for you. I'm rich. You needn't take my word for it, bub ask Mr. Denis there."

Denis had entered and had gob Nora's hand within his, and her face was hidden on his breast. " Ask Mr. Denis; he'll answer for me. All I have is yours—" The doctor held up his hand. " Hush I" he said, as he bent) over Mrs. Neil. She opened her eyes and looked toward Blanche. "Forgive! forgive!" she gasped. Blanche glared at her speechlessly for a moment, then, with a cry of passionate refusal, she darted from the cottage as her mother fell back dead.

"Oh, go to her—go to her, poor girl!" murmured Lady Esdaile, Lord Esdaile went oub hurriedly, and Lady Esdaile seemed about to follow; then, as if she had remembered suddenly, she turned and looked ab Nora. They looked into each other's eyes as if each were searching the other's heart for a mother's, a daughter's, love; then Lady Esdaile's white facs moved—broke up,as it were—and she held out her hands with a

low cry. "My child!" Nora was enfolded in them, and as her head sunk upon her mother's bosom, only Lady Esdaile heard the oweet voice sobbing, " Mother! mother I"

Blanche tore up the path half mad with fury and humiliation, and as ehe came to the spot where Spencer Foylo was hiding, be stepped out to her. She stopped and looked ab him pantingly, her face white to the lipe. He regarded her with a smile of cruel amusement and contempt. - "You—you h»vc heard?" she gasped. He nodded and raised his eyebrows, " See, every word." "Itis a lie, a conspiracy!" she said, leaning against a tree and wiping her face. " Nβ, ti'a true enough," he said. " You dare!" she exclaimed, fiercely. He laughed softly. " My dear child, the thing's as plain aB a pikestaff! Why should tho woman—l beg your pardon .'—your mother—lie; and just dying too ? For shame, my dear Blanche— if that is your name. One gets a little mixed, doesn't one!"

" You—you believe it," she said, trembling with shame and .tortured pride. " Yes," he said. " There's no doubt about ib, I'm eorry to say. For you see I come no here as an injured party; for I've had this misfortune bo marry Blanche Fawsetb, the daughter of a convict, instead of Blanche Esdaile." "Oh, my God!" she moaned. "What shall I do? What .hall I do?"

He laughed and laid his hand on her shoulder.

"If you ask me, I should say,'-make the best of this thing." •' . . ' ■ '■'■'■''■ ;: "', ■:■■ v" ' : " The best, 3, she«id with bifcteroees. ;■

"Certainly," he said, coolly. "Ib isn't so bad as ib looks. Pou can still claim to be Lady Blanche Esdaile—l'll take very good care you do, by the way—and yo'u can at the same timo enjoy the benefit of being the daughter of Mr. Fawsett, alias Culmer, and alias anything else." "The benefit?" , " Yes," he said, smiling. "My dear Blanche, the man must be something approaching a millionaire. He is the owner of an opal mine—half owner, I should say, or that hound, Denis Denison, is his partner —and the man who owns such wealth as he possesses is not half a bad father to hang on to."

" I would rather die than touch a penny 1" "Would you? How tired of life you must be! Come on and take my arm; we will walk on. Now, I'd rather die than nob touch it. My dear Blanche, how often must I beg you to be sensible. The man's rich, enormously rich I" " A convict!" she gasped. He shrugged his shoulders. " Who cares ? No one rakes up the pasb of a millionaire. Money gilds the blackest gaol-birds nowadays. He doesn't know what to do with it—he is eager to lavish it on his newly found daughter. My dear wife, we will let him lavish it. Can you walk a little quicker ? I've reasons of my own for avoiding a meeting with my dear papa-in-law. I'll tell you some day. Meanwhile, we'll get I to the Hall and take the post-chaise back to the station. We sha'n't be missed, I assure you. you can write from London or see your papa there. Anyway, you will have to acknowledge him and play the dutiful daughter." " Nover—never!" she said, passionately. "Why should I?" He looked at) her with a emile, but a smile that made her tremble and shrink from his arm. "Because I have the misfortune to be your husband, and command you to do so," he said, quietly, (To bo continued on Saturday next.)