HEART FOR HEART.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXV, Issue 10836, 20 August 1898, Page 3 (Supplement)

HEART FOR HEART.

BY CHARLES OARVICE, Author of "Her Heart's Desire," "The Outcast of the Family," "In Cupid's Chains," "A Life's Mistake," "Better Than Life," " Sim Trusted Him," etc., etc.

i i,HAITJ3B XXX.— {Continued). Polson looked up and smiled vacantly then he turned his face away with a cunning, secretive expression in bis colourless eyes. "What were they hero for?" demanded Stephen. Poison shrugged his shoulders, the look of cunning deepening in his face. "Oh, nothing of consequence. Brandon came to ask me the address of a man we both know," he said. Stephen Saltash sunk into his chair, and gnawed at his nails. "Raymoro back again!" he muttered. "That cheque!" There was a pause. Poison had got up from his stool, and was stirring the chemicals. "How— did he look?" asked Stephen, hesitatingly and huskily. " Very bad;" replied Poison, looking over his shoulder with a perfectly impassive face —" very bad indeed! If he was Raymore— mind, it's only your conjecture!—l should say ho wasn't long for this world." Stephen, crouching in the chair, looked up eagerly, and Poison glided across the room, and laid a hand persuasively on Stephen's arm.' ■ ''.''" , > \. " If it was Raymore who was here to-night, Saltash, there's no time to be lost," he said in his low, monotonous voice. " She's got to go first, ' you know, or you'll lose the money. If anything happened to him, and she were left, she'd have the whole of it, and —we— be left out in the cold. There's no time to be lost '■ Stephen sprung to his feet with a kind of snarl, like that of a cur driven to bay. ; ■''..'. .'; ..'.' I know that, curse yon!" he said. . " And it isn't only that. He'll—he'll find out about the—the cheque.: I'm in a pretty hole ■ : ; "The cheque! That's nothing," said Polson, with a wave of his hand.; "It's the other business, Saltash. • It must be done at once — at' once, my, friend!" ■' He smiled up at Saltash. with a hideous leer on his white face. " He might take it into his head to go to his wife, Your girl would find it difficult to play the little . game then.; - You see? There's no time to be lost. . Get rid of her at

once, Saltish, at once. You've fooled about too long." < ' . ; -He patted Stephen on , the arm; but Stephen pushed him off, and swore horribly. > " Keep your hands off !" he said, fiercely. " Yes, there's no time to be lost." ; ;,: : ' "Go to Scotland," whispered Poison, in his ear, but refraining from touching him again. "Go, and tell the girl she must do it at once. Let them come together, and you'll lose your chance— everything !" Stephen buttoned up his coat with a resolute air. . " I'll go by this morning's train," he said, more to himself than to Poison; and, with a string of oaths, he left the room. Poison closed and locked the door after him ; then, chuckling in a noiseless fashion, went back to the fire. Stephen travelled by the ten-thirty. It is usually a fast train, but on this occasion it went but slowly ; and, at one stopping, Stephen put his head out of the window, and angrily inquired of the guard the cause of the delay. " Special in front of us, sir," said the man, touching his cap, "and 'she's had a stoppage or two, in consequence of the goods', train." The special met with bad luck all the way down, and the signal seemed always against it; now it was a goods' train, at another time a slow " local" which dragged itself just in front of the train. Itaymoro bore the delay with, at anyrate, outward calm, though his set lips and drawn brows showed how the journey was telling on him. Brandon tried to persuade him to endeavour to get some sleep; but Raymore shook his head. , 'It will be time enough to sleep when I know that she is safe," he said grimly. " Sleep! I could as easily fly! Oh, if I only could, and leave this crawling train behind." Once or twice Brandon insisted upon Raymore's drinking and eating; but it was hard work for Raymore to do anything more than hold himself together in the corner of the carriage and count the weary hours. At last they reached Montcalm. Raymore was in the serge suit in which he had travelled to London, and the porter recognised him and stared at the notion of a special" being taken by a keeper; but when he saw Brandon, he concluded that the special was for him ; and Brandon, who seemed to have thought of everything, confirmed this conjecture by giving the man a sovereign, and saying: "There's no need to tell everyone that you've had a 'special' down to-night, my man.'' The porter nodded, in the "dour" Scotch fashion, and Raymore and Brandon, arranging that their portmanteaus should be sent to the hut, left the station. It was a fine night, though somewhat windy, and Brandon looked about him with great interest—an interest which increased as, just as they were climbing the hill, he caught a glimpse of the castle. " Good heavens, but it's a fine place, Raymore!" he said. "Fancy owning such a place and living in a gamekeeper's hut." "Fancy having the sweetest and loveliest girl for a wife, and leaving her to the mercy of a scoundrel!" said Raymore, bitterly. " That will soon be over," said Brandon, encouragingly. " Now, what are your plans, Raymore? You don't want to frighten Lady Raymore out of her senses, by stalking into tlio drawing-room and exclaiming 'I am here!' like a melodramatic hero," Raymore shook his head. "No. I've thought it all out; I've had plenty of lime in that accursed train. I will go up to the castle at once— moment. They are just at dinner, but that cannot be helped. 1 will ask you to wait at the hut for half an hour or so—you can change there, and rest." Yes, yes," said Brandon. "It would not do for me to go with you suddenly ; they —the girl, or whoever else is working the thing—would be suspicious. Why, what's that?" "The whistle of the train, the ten-thirty," said Raymore, sarcastically. "So much for a special! We have saved about fifteen minutes. Well, that is worth while. Now, hero is the corner where I wired the man to wait with the trap. Not here! Where on earth can he be?" He looked at his watch. " He must have got tired of waiting," said Brandon, " and gone back. What will yon do?" "It will bo quicker to walk," said Raymore ; and they set oil' at a sharp pace, Raymore chose all the short cuts he had I been familiar with as a boy, and at length they reached the keeper's cottage. It was some minutes before they could knock up the gillie, and Raymore began to chafe and lose something of his calm. His hands trembled as lie lighted the lamp, and Brandon would not let him remain to do anything else, " I can find everything else, my dear fellow,'.' he said. "You be off. Send down word when you want me, and don't mind leaving me hero if you don't want me until the morning. There may be all sorts of reasons why my presence should not be desirable. I shall be comfortable enough. Why, man, what's good enough for you is good enough for me, and the little box is charming. Go, my dear Raymore, and may happiness await you Raymore wrung his friend's hand and left the cottage; and Brandon, before he turned to "make things comfortable," stood and looked at the tall figure striding up the path. CHAPTER XXXI. Now and again— too often, thank goodness!— are permitted to see what fools we are or have been. The self-knowledge, the illumination, comes like a (lash of lightning, quite suddenly, and sometimes without any warning whatever; and ourselves, our very selves, stand out before us in all the nakedness of truth, and with sorrow and shame we are compelled to see and admit our folly.

Now, Eaymore, as he walked through the wood,* by the near way to the castle, got one of these sudden revelations, and the man almost groaned as he recognised the extent, and tho result, of his foolishness, "Brandon was right all along!" lie said to himself as lie strode through the semidarkness by tho path which had now become familiar to him. "He was right. I have been an ass from the first. He called it Quixotism, and perhaps it was; but Quixotism is synonymous with folly nowadays. I ought to have gone to her and told her of tho fresh lease of life which Brandon had given me ; I ought not to have written. I might have known that so sensitive and delicate a girl would be too frightened, too astounded by the suddenness of the proposal. I ought to have gone to her and pleaded my cause; and, if she had refused to grant me her love, I ought still to have remained with her to guard and protect her. I was a fool to leave her alone and helpless against the machinations of such a scoundrel as Stephen Saltash. My love helped to make a fool of me; and the unexpectedness of the reprieve, the fear lest she should think that I had entrapped her, or wanted to take advantage of the circumstances, and the marriage ceremony, robbed me of the courage to do the right thing! But I have been punished. My God, how severely! And now I am going to her, what shall I say to her?" He wiped his brow and frowned as he strode along. " There must be no word of love. I must not frighten her. She would be terrified if she knew how passionately I adore her. She must not suspect the plot which I believe was laid against her life. No; I must be cautious. I will just say: ' Gracia, I have come to you. I have come to be by your side.to watch over and protect you—not as a husband, but as a friend—a true and devoted friend who asks, who expects no reward. Yau shall be as free to do what you please as you have been hitherto; all I claim is the right to be by your side, just as a faithful dog may be. Don't be frightened, dearest—' Ah, no; I must not call her as I think of her; that will not do He sighed. " No, I must be careful; not by word or look must I startle her away from me."' ', , V. He stopped a moment, a moment only, to look about him. The clouds had darkened, and the firs grew.thickly just at this spot. .-'. " I know how she; will look. » Ah, yes! Is there any minute of the day or night that I cannot picture her, that she does not stand before me? Her face will grow pale, and those lovely eyes of • hers will look' at me gently,; seriously—her pure, ; innocent soul showing through them!— she will say—. Ah, what will she say?" ■ " i -. ■ ■ He drew a long breath. . ' ' : : " No matter! Let her say what she will ; it shall not drive me from her side. Even if I were ignorant of Stephen's villainy"—he shuddered—" even if it were proved that my suspicions were groundless, I would not leave her again. No; I am her husband.?. I have sworn to cherish and protect her, and I will do so, God helping me. And, God helping me, I will ask, will claim, no sweeter privi-

i lege. It is a pity Brandon is not here to hear me," he thought, and he smiled faintly. "He j would be glad. The dear fellow would not > crow over me as some men would, but he'd clap me on the back and— What's that?" ; ■ The. thread of his thoughts was broken abruptly, for he heard a low whistle, sounding in the darkness a little to the right of him. < The answer, "Poachers!" came at once to his mental question, and he stopped short, and peered into the wood from whence the sound had come. . ■ "Well, they may work their sweet will to-night,'.' he said to himself. "They are welcome to every bird, every hare on the place." But even as he mentally resigned the whole of the Montcalm game, he was impelled to answer the whistle, which he mimicked pretty closely. There was a moment or two of silence ; then a voice, much nearer to him than the wuistle had been, said in low and cautious tones: "Is that you, Judith?" Raymore recognised the voice, and the blood rushed to his head. Stephen here! And with an assignation with Judith ! Then his — Raymore's suspicions were well grounded! There was, in very truth, a devilish plot against Gram's life !' He stood as if turned to stone for a moment ; he heard the footsteps coming nearer and nearer, and presently a tall figure stood almost close to him, and Stephen's voice said, impatiently: "Is that you? Why don't you answer?" Then he broke off with an exclamation as he saw Raymore. " Who is it?" he demanded, sharply. Raymore stood perfectly still. "It is I—Raymore," he said ; and his voice sounded thick and strained in his own ears, for the fierce heating of his heart deafened and confused him, " Raymore—Rolfe!" exclaimed Stephen, drawing back. " You!" " Yes, it is I," said Raymore. " What are you doing here? But Ido not need to ask." Stephen drew a long breath, and laughed constrainedly. "By George, Rolfe! you startled me!" he said, with a poor attempt at levity. "I—l was going up to the castle to see you. I heard you were coming down, and—" "Liar!" said Raymore, sternly. "You came to see your accomplice." Stephen laughed again; but the laugh sounded hollow and forced. "You mean little Judith? Ah, well, the cat's out of the bag. I was killing two birds with one stone." Raymore could not repress a shudder, even as his blood grew hot with indignation. " The word is an appropriate one from your lips, you scoundrel!'' he said. " What the devil do you mean?" demanded Saltasli. "Arc you out of your mind? Pretty way to receive a relative!" " Claim no relationship with an honest man forger!" said Raymore, fiercely. "Forger!" echoed Stephen, hoarsely. "Yes. You have been detected. Stand where you are!"— Stephen had moved slightly—" stand and hear me denounce you as the villain you are. You have committed forgery, Stephen Saltasli ; but there is still a more hideous crime—!" Passion shook his voice and lent it terrible force. The awful word seemed to echo through the wood. Stephen glanced from side to side. "You are mad!" he stammered. "You rave like an hysterical woman. I can make some allowance for your state of health, Rolfe; but, by God, don't try mo too far !" Raymore lost his head. He had intended to remain calm and self-possessed, but Stephen's effrontery broke down his power of self-restraint. With a cry like that of an angry lion goaded beyond endurance, he sprung on Stephen and gripped him by the throat, "Murderer!" he cried. "I know youi plot—a plot against a woman. Coward ! Why should I not kill you as you deserve? It is the right of every honest man to stamp a deadly reptile under his foot, when the beast crawls across his path. Answer ine! Why should I not kill you?" The two men gripped and closed; a terrible struggle ensued. Neither man spoke, and each panted and glared into the other's eyes. Now and again Raymore would be compelled to yield an inch or two, and Stephen would try to force him backward to Hie ground;then Raymore would profit by the advantage of his athletic training, and, recovering, drag Stephen almost to his knees. They wrestled scientifically.but with the awful intensity of men lighting for life. Several times Raymore crushed Stephen against one of the trees; but Stephen was not stunned, and the tree helped to support him. The sweat stood thickly on their white faces, their lips were wide apart, their eyes glaring, as if they saw nothing. Suddenly Stephen slipped, and Raymore uttered a cry— cry of victory ! He had got Stephen down, and had pinned him to the ground with his knee, and his hand again held the man's throat. Stephen, shaking and half fainting, struggled furiously; but Raymore, though the bigger man by very little, seemed possessed of the strength of a Hercules. " Confess—confess !" he cried, hoarsely, unconscious that his grip rendered anyspeech from Stephen impossible. "No need! I was at the den of your accomplice man Poison— night ! I know tlio means—by what poison— have attempted the murder. , Oh, God, that an angel should be in

the power of such a scoundrel! I know all, wretch ; and I mean to punish you ! The law you have outraged shall exact its penalty. No, I'll not kill you; I'll not rob the hangman."

His hands released their fierce grip as he spoke, and only just in time, for, with a choking sound in his throat, Stephen ceased to struggle. Ruymore rose and looked down at him. Had he killed the vile wretch? Stephen did not move, and Raymore touched him with his foot. " Get up !" he said, sternly. After a moment or two Stephen opened his eyes and staggered to his feet. " You've— neanly killed me," he said, gasping for breath and fingering his throat. " Don't— !" for Raymore, tortured by the desire to silence the loathed voice, made a slight movement toward him. "I— give in ! I'm—l'm beaten. The— game'sxiip. But—but—you'll have some mercy, Rolfe!" " Mercy I The word is blackened by your lips. What mercy hud you, you vilo hound? A woman— girl- Oh, my God I" His passion mastered him for a moment, and he covered his face with his hands and

leaned against a tree. It was only for a moment—the chance— Stephen seized it. Suddenly, swiftly— indeed, the snake to which Raymore had likened him—he sprung on Raymore and struck him twice with a knife. It was one of those Norwegian knives which sportsmen carry, and the blade was thick and big, and worked with a spring. Eaymore staggered back under the quick stubs, then flung himself upon Stephen; but even as Stephen slipped aside and drove at him again, Eaymore swayed and fell full length, and the knife stabbed the empty air. The sudden reversal of their positions, the change from vanquished to conqueror, overwhelmed Stephen, and he stood with the dripping knife in his hand, staring down confusedly at the motionless figure stretched at his feet. The silence, following so swiftly on the passionate voice, seemed to weigh upon him, to crash down upon him like something that could be felt. His blood ran hot through' his veins, then slowly—slowlyseemed to turn to ice. With a stealthy movement he began to draw away; then he stopped, looked round, and slowly, stumblingly, went to the lifeless figure, and, kneeling beside it, felt for Kaymore's heart. The pulsation was so slight that at first Stephen could not feel it, and he sprung to his feet, shuddering, and gasping: V "My God! I've killed him!" Then he forced himself to feel again, and found that Raymore still lived. He drew a breath of relief, and unfastened Raymore's collar. As he was doing so, something warm trickled oh to his hand, and he started back, and stared at it with horror; for he knew what it was that had touched him. He drew back his coat and shirt sleeve, and held his hands out before him, suddenly aroused to a sense of his danger. He had already been a murderer in intention; but this was a veiy different thing—his own hand had struck the blow, and was spotted with die k.'ond of his victim. > '.••'• ■■: ' j •'•:. He struck a match, and, shading it as much as possible, examined his coat and waistcoat. There' was no blood on them, so far as he could < see, . though they were ; crushed and pulled out of shape' by the struggle. ;. : He stood thinking hard for a moment or two, then he knelt down again, took Raymore's watch and 'chain, pocket-book, . and every penny of money he could find, and walked quickly away. .-■ , ■.-._. ;' .>,

; And as he walked, lie tried to face the situation, to review his position. Raymore would die—if not of the knife-wounds, of the shock. He might linger, a day,'days, or a week ; but he would die. If he died before Gracia, then 1 he, Stephen, had risked his neck for nothing—worse than nothing. : The thought made him set his teeth hard, and roused him to a kind of spurious courage born of desperation. There was no use, no sense, in stopping halfway. Both the persons who stood between him and Raymore's money must go; Judith must be spurred on to complete her share of the ghastly work. ■ ' (To be continued.)

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