A SHADOWED LOVE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLII, Issue 13030, 22 November 1905, Page 2 (Supplement)

A SHADOWED LOVE.

[PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.]

By FRED M. WHITE. Author of "The Slave of Silence," "Lady Uonntiftil," " The Weight of The Crown," "Craven Fortune," "The Corner House," etc., etc.

[COPYRIGHT.] CHAPTER LVlll.—(Continued.) "If I am to be taken into your confidence," Lady Stanmere suggested, "I may perhaps be permitted to ask why I also should have been kept in the dark?"

"It was absolutely necessary, my dear mother," tJtanmere replied'. " I didi not want Mary to see you. Suppose her father had died before; suppose you knew it and told Mary. She would naturally have asked, in that case, who I was. Then tho whole deceit would have been prematurely divulged and all my plans ruined. There was just the chance, after Mary knew how she had been deceived, that she would refuse to return to me. You wonder why I did this kind of thing. I will tell you in a word: 1 wanted to be mistaken for Stephen." Lady Stanmere shook flier head in a puzzled kind of way. " You would not gain much by that," she suggested. " Oh, yes, I would. I kuew that Stephen was an out-east living from the vengeance that sooner or later must reach him. I learnt that he had sent his blind daughter down here. Stephen was out of the way, and his effects were to be sold by his creditors. I bought them. I was back in England then with the nucleus of a great fortune in my hands. But I had my shadow dogging "mo, and I should never have carried out my plans if I had not baffled him. I bought up Stephens effects, and decided to adopt his daughter. When my man fetched her she came, as she imagined, to her old home, or something like it. There was I, a speaking likeness of my poor unhappy brother Stephen, with my daughter by my side. The plan was a. great success. The man who had meant to ruin my life was entirely taken in. He mistook mo for Stephen grown rich ami prosperous. I had onlv to avoid tho broad light of the street and I was safe. For nearly three years my bete 110ir was hovering near me and he never discovered' the truth. And all that time I was steadily crowning the work that I had set myself to do." Lady Stanmere was listening with great interest now. Slid looked up swiftly. "But you stood to die by the hand that struck Stephen down," she said. " No, 1 didn't. Those eyes were not deceived. Besides, they were following Stephen from place to place on the Continent, so I was safe in that direction. But all the time I'had a great sorrow. I had committed murder; I had shot a man in California in cold blood, or something like it. The recollection of that crime haunted mo day and, night.; I could not rid myself of the picture. And! the man who was looking for me everywhere knew of my crime. Mother, can you guess who he was?"

•' Horace Vomer," Lady Stanmere said quietly. "The husband of poor misguided Cecilia. It was a bad day when your father appointed that man to look after you two boys. 1 warned him, but he would not heed. He accompanied you when you last entered the house."

"Until I got rid of him out in San Francisco, there was no shaking off that man. He saw the crime that darkened all my life committed, and that is why he tried to get a chance to blackmail me in England. And all the time I had not committed, that crime at all. I had merely stunned my man and Venner himself came in and completed the tragedy. But I could not know that md 1 went*in fear of him. It has only been during the . last few years' that circumstances have proved too strong for Venner and forced a confession out- of him. If I had only known — Stanmere paused for a moment. He had two interested'listeners. " I saw-him i.u London and he saw me,"' he went on. "I managed to elude him. It was imperative just thou that Venner should be blinded as to my identity. To be quite candid, it was Martlett who suggested a way to deceive the rascal. And this is how you came in, Mary. If you are angry —" " i am not in the J cast angry, Mary said gently. " But I think that if you had told me in the first place I should have been quite ready to" " But we could not tell that, Stanmere went on eagerly. " Besides, you seemed so good and pure and incapable of playing a part. And your very innocence and. simplicity made it so much easier. So long as you really took me for your father things could hardly go wrong. The scheme prospered, Venner was kept at bay, and I was growing rich. But there was one factor I did not reckon 011." " Mary recovering her sight, I suppose?" Lady Stanmere asked. "No : I took her everywhere. I hunted for Von Wrangel, but after that affair in Berlin lie seemed to have entirely disappeared. I had hoped some day for Mary to see again, but that is not the question: Tlio. part I had overlooked was the- chance of Stephen turning up again."' " He did turn up and he found me out. Unfortunately he believed that 1 had had a hand in putting his pursuers on his track. He would have killed me just then if he had had a chance. My nerves gave way entirely. and 1 was little better than a wreck. Fortunately for me, Stephen could not find out where 1 lived. If he had done so my plans would have been ruined. Ho found me at last ' through Venner, who had followed Stephen thinking he was me. That wants u little thinking out but it is quito plain. And Venner told Stephen ho knew all about his little place in Cambria Square. Stephen tracked mo ; he followed mo down here where I had come to see Mary privately."

" But why -privately V" Lady Stanmere asked.

"My dear mother, if I had done so openly you would have recognised me as your son Paul, and Mary would have known "at once that I was not her father. Besides, I had a shameful purpose. I was going to try and get Mary to postpone the operation." "Where was the need?" Mary asked. Stanmere flushed a little uncomfortably. " So that you should not see for a little time longer," he said. "I was half mad'with'terror, and the knowledge that all my plans were likely to fail. I did not dare to trust you or anybody. It was a cruel and disgraceful thing not to trust you. But there was danger all around, and it was for so short a time. Not that I did not suffer remorse arid shame. I tried to get Dick on my side, but he spurned the suggestion with such words as I hope never to have applied to me again. I tried to frighten him, but I did not succeed. For those few hours I think I must have been mad.

"I came down here to see you, Mary, as 1 did the night we met in the corridor. Stephen was there, and ho guessed my errand. lie knew of this operation, and it was his revenge. You would see once more, Mary. I had come to love you dearly, and when you knew the truth you would spurn me"

"I shall love you all my life," Mary said gently. "There." ~ She stood up and kissed Stanmere on the cheek fondly. There was a pleased smile on his face.

" Thou Stephen had to fly again. The danger was very real. When you found your way to Stanmere that night and subsequently took a walk with You Wrangel you had your hand oil your father's arm. J stood in the window of the. library personating him, so that his pursuers were entirely baffled. But we need not go into that at present. I only needed a few months longer before my work was complete. Then, by a fortunate accident, my character was cleared and I could face +he world again. After that it did not matter how soon you learnt the truth, because there was no longer cause for concealment." " But I went to London," Mary said; "I had to give some kind of evidence— "To save me from a charge of killing your father," Stanmere said. " I had better explain that." Mary listened as the story was told. There was a deep sadness in her heart, but no tears in her eyes. For sho had not loved her father in the* old days; all that love had been transferred to tho man who had been by her side in the dark and had uplifted and comforted her.

"So you forgive me?" Stanmere asked, at length. " There is nothing to forgive," Mary said quietly. " I would have done all this for you, and more. But I should like to know what you were struggling so hard and running so great a risk for." Stanmere looked round him across tho lake to the hanging woods beyond. "This," lie said—"the restoration of the house of Stanmere." *

CHAPTER LIX. . i/envoi. Lady Stanmere pressed her hands together and gave a little cry. "Now I begin to understand," she said. " For some years past I have- been growing rich. One mortgage after the other has been paid off through Mr. Martiett. Ho would tell me nothing, and 1 . was fain to take the goods that the gods provided. I had heard that you were in London, Paul, and that you were prosperous, but I didn't know -Mary was with you. I actually thought she was with her father all this time. And so you have done this?" " I have done all of it. It was the la.sk I set myself to do directly I saw that I had a chance of fortune. 1 took Mart-lett into my confidence, and ho managed the affair for me. When Vernier came along and threatened to utterly ruin everything, it was he who devised the scheme in. which Mary played so tremendous a, part. Veuner came near to upsetting everything, but nothing matters now. And all this business of the ojieration came, and at. a critical time when all that I nad sunk might have been, lost. There is one more sum of money necessary to be paid and Stanmere is free. I shall be the lust Lord Stanmere, for I shall never marry again, but the property will be a noble heritage some of those days tor Mary and her children." 1 don t want to be a great heiress," Mary said quietly. (f»r o ' l ' fIS » (> " do, ' Stanmere smiled. Money is a precious thing in. the proper hands. But you arid Dick will have to learn how to appreciate it. You won't have much at first and Dick will have to put; all his energies into the Record, which ho shall havo a shard in presently." " Then you are not going to stand in Dicks way/ Mary asked. "I was afraid that

.. My dear, I have 110 right," Spencer said. xOll .are free to marry anybody you please. Between ourselves, I am quite delighted to find your choice falls on Dick He 1 overt you for yourself, and he would have loved you none the less for your affliction. And but for Dick I should not lie here at this moment. And now let us both go 'back to our guests." They crossed the terrace and entered the house. In the hall (loss was standing re--fully. " Lord Stanmere has come home," Lady Stanmere said. "He proposes to remain, here in future, Goss.;' 1 am sure you will be glad to see the master back again." Cross forgot his dignity, and there wc-re tears in Ids eyes as he took Stancsore's extended hand.

"1 don't care what happens now," lie said. " I vo waited for this; I always knew it would come. I taught you to shoot, my lord, and I taught you to ride. I carried you in my arms before yon could walk; and I always said to my lady that you would come back again some day. Thank God, you- have." Von Wrangel, apparently sprung from nowhere, fortunately prevented any further weak on the part of (loss, who averred that, he had never liehaved so shamefully before. From the comer of the dining-

room Mart-lett was creeping, as musty arid secretive as ever. The dry decorum broke down a little as Mary kissed him. " So vou are a maker of romance," she said. "I have been hearing all about your conspiracy, sir. I believe that you are a poet in disguise. If we searched your office we should find novels and plays and stories there. Mr. Martlett, 1 hope ( you feel thoroughly ashamed of yourself." Martlett permitted himself to indulge in the luxury of a chuckle. "I beg your pardon," he said, in his driest fashion. ' " Nothing of the sort. I am an old-fashioned lawyer with a strong prejudice against the romantic and imaginative. I disclaim the scheme entirely. My client/ Lord Stanmere, came to me in great trouble and I merely advised him. He was ■ good enough to approve of my advice and applied it. 1 take no credit." "And run no risks," Stanmere laughed.

Martlett took a pinch of snuff in a thoughtful manner.

" At the same time I don't mind making a confession," he said. " I have always taken a particularly warm interest in the fortunes of Stanmere; in fact, it has developed into a hobby of mine, like collecting postage stamps and other highly intellectual forms of science. If I had failed I should have been greatly annoyed— much annoyed indeed. But we have, not failed, though we came very near it. And I daresay in time you young people will forgive me."

They were a very happy party round the tea 1 table in. the drawing-room, though a little subdued, for the shadow of death wag still close to the house. Stanmere drew 'Dick outside the window on to the, terrace presently, under pretence of smoking a cigarette.

" Have you said anything to Mary yet?" he asked.

" My deal' lord, as you have monopolised Mary ever since her return, it is perfectly obvious that I have done nothing of the kind," Dick smiled. " But you seem to understand each other."

A little of the old anxious look came into Stanmere' eyes. "We have come to a perfect understanding," he said. "My dear Dick, you were right and I was wrong. I could have trusted Mary implicitly from the first. You perilled your position for. her sake; you told me some home ruths that I shall never forget."

" I am afraid that I was very rude," Dick said, with a fine colour in his face.

" You told me the truth, Dick ; you spoke from your heart. And I was very nearly threatening you with poverty and" trouble again if you did not fall in with my views. Thank God, I was spared that humiliation. But I was half mad at the time. Stanmere seemed to bo slipping from my grasp. My mind was going. But all that has been changed, as probably Von Wrangel has told you." ' • ' "I fancy that I have heard everything," Dick replied. • Stanmere looked at the house with its grey, worn front and away to the park and" the woods beyond " I had set my heart on pulling through," he said. "As an atonement for all the follies of my youth, I resolved that Stanmere should be ours once again. When my father died it was a mere plank between my mother and the poor-house. But step by step and stone by stone I won it back again. You can perhaps understand my feelings when I saw the • ruins slipping through my fingers. But in a few weeks now it will all be mine. I shall never marry again, and by the time I die you will be, I hope, a. man of ripe understanding; and you will be able to revive the old glories of the family and raise the old name again. It will be a. noble heritage for Maty and your children." Dick gasped. He had not expected anything like this. "My dear lord," he stammered, "I could not possibly " My dear boy, you can't help yourself. Mary is free to marry whom she pleases. At first you will have a. small inoome and earn it. The Record will be yours some day; you shall have a share now. We will build out a few new rooms at Shepherd's Spring, so that the place will be fitting for the future mistress of Stanmere.. And I hope you will not be long before you are married. Before my time comes, I should like to hold in my arms a boy child, whom 1 could recognise as the future lord of these old acres."

Like the philosopher in the old story, Dick said nothing, for the simple reason that he had nothing to say. But lie was eloquent enough presently when he and Mr~- were alone together. They wandered into the rose garden, which was one of Mary's favourite spots. And there, with Dick's arm about her, and her hand on his shoulder, she heard all the wonderful things that Dick had to tell. "It reads like a wonderful romance," Mary said, after a long pause. " I have lost a father, and yet I feel that my father is still with me. How- terribly he has been tried, Dick."

' He must be. made much of," Dick said gravely. "He must be humoured. For instance, he says he hopes it will not be long before we are married. We shall go to Shepherd's Spring for the present. My dearest girl, we really must, not hurt Lord Stanmere by keeping him long waiting." Mary smiled up into her lover's eyes. There was a deep flush on her face. "Not just yet," she said. "We• must wait six months. ' After -that I am yours when you like to claim me, Dick., We have not known each other very long, but I fancy'that we cared for each other from the first."

" I am sure that I did," Dick declared. "When I saw you standing there thateventful night, with the light on your face, I vowed to myself that you were the one girl for me. And it must have been so, because otherwise we should never have been thrown together in that strange manner. And when I come to write my book I shall not lack material."

"An exciting situation," Mary said. "And that is all you want." Dick stooped and kissed the red lips. " Not quite all, sweetheart," he said. " Don't forget the heroine, lovely, amiable, charming, and blind. What a pathetic figure! And love opens her eyes, and she sees again. Is it not wonderful? Could I have anything more perfect? My task will not be great, my darling, for it will contain the loveliest, daintiest, sweetest heroine that the world has ever seen." [the end.]