THE CASE OF DADY BROADSTONE.
r rjSISHED Br SPECIAL ABEANGEMENT. ■'.' v"-S(i '■•':',•.. V.""'". ;: - ~-'.'' "'■'■■;.' '.'■':':"■'''.' " : : ; ■" ■■■ . :'■
|Y ARTHUR W. MARCHMONT, Aufor of "By Eiffht of Sword," "A Henr ftjjjfe of Peril," " When I was Tsar," " A Jtfourier of Fortune." "By Wit of I Woman," etc., etc. I r [COPYRIGHT.! , ■ u . , — , THKi stamp wa* intact. No one had passed out; and he resumed his watch with an inward smile of satisfaction. Soon afterwards his sharp ears caught the •Oik'-'of Eva's voice; and putting his ear to the ground again he heard Sadie go into fchd other room, and then the voices of the twff as they spoke together. ii a moment ho was at work on the key. Cl|yerly and noiselessly as 1 skilled burgjar he went about the work; and while the two were speaking he turned first the key nnd then the handle. of the door and opened
. it! , ' , • He .could then easily hear all that passed; awl as soon as Sadie began to read he > crept into the room to search for the cloak. ■'• This was a difficult task. The room was 1 all but in darkness, and' he had .0 move V about with the greatest care and stealth as 1 th? door between the two rooms was ajar. I Success' was so long ox coming that he had 1 at length made up bis mind to risk the dor's ing step of shutting the door of communication, turn up the Tight, trust to fortune to get what ho sought, and then brazen the 'thing out. I In rising for this purpose he made a kight'noise, and Sadie, hearing it, paused lit; her reading. Then luck befriended him. .Putting out Ids hand to steady himself he stood it came in contact -with the cli>ak as it lay on the back of a chair. He waited until Sadie began to wad ugfiu and then picked it up and felt for the polkets. 'While he was doing this Sadie stopped again and rose. With a smothered curse at the turn of the luck ho hurried out of the room, taking the cloak with him,
and leaving tho door open. j Ho hurried straight to. his room, and uttered, an eiclaniation of delight at finding [that foe had after all been successful. He had only half-gained his cud, however. Ho : ' {had meant tit fake the cords from the cloak, Sreplaßo it, and abut and lock the- door behind him, .thus covering his movements. But the turn"of matters had prevented that, 'and the open door would reveal the fact | that ho had been in the room. ..'. 'I Only half a victory though it was ho | breathed a sigh' of intense relief and satisfaction. Ho had drawn Sadie's teeth. She [could do him no harm now. She might tell 1 what story she pleased about his visit tv , 'about Ids part in Jack I'etherby's death. She had no proofs'; and his position and reputation would easily carry him through any trouble. /if With feverish fingers he tore apart the itrands of the two incriminating cords, and, ? 1 iindling a fire in -he grate, watched with . i gating eyes while the flames consumed j tlem. When the last strand had been de- | stayed he gave another deep sigh of.pro- | .ioind. relief, and with a chuckle of triumph 1 hehmdressed and got into bed. ■I lie woke early and lay thinking. What I should be his next step? He had a plau- ! sibly story ready to explain his return; but thervwas something still to be done. He • must s find out what Sadie's intentions were i | how, in face of his success in recovering the tfj cords ; -and with characteristic assurance, '■'■it he ■ resolved ,to interview her and get the 1 facts for: himself at first hand. 1 Ho could laugh at her' threats now : and iff; having dressed himself with his usual care ■ and neatness,, he left his. room to. find her. I His eve caught, cloak as. he was going •\\ out,' and \vith/& grin ho threw it over his ! \ ar% determined to return it to her in per- ; X soA_" :i .'_/"'" \ mm a. jaunty step he passed along the JjCrridor which had been the scene of the "previous night's venture and, finding Sadie's j floor ajar, he pushed it open without cereJnony. ■■'•■..; Then he paused. . Sadie and Eva were at , breakfast and were gleefully discussing the telegram calling the former to Paris, and ' th» arrangements for their immediate de-
patture. ' : :,-i'„ ii ■ : \ ■ * .. ; % an instant he saw,.through. the flimsy pretence-of the summons, and scented fresh danker to himself. Instead of waiting to see Skidio he threw the cloak down and re..turftH to ids room to consider this new development. . Coriially as he hated Sadie and much as lie had feared her he had a great respect now Mr her shrewdness; and he sat ponderingWer the puzzle, seeking in vain for the keg to it. It was, of course, a fresh blow arfaed at him, and probably also at Broadstirae; and at any hazard it must be prevented, If Evalmee left the Towers all chance of carrying |ut their plans in regard tc her would be It an end. : ' There Tas one way. to checkmate the move; andonly one that he could see. That was to tell Eva the truth at oncethat she was not Broidstone's wife. Broadstone would be furious at his taking such a course; but his cousin's anger did not count bylthe sido of his own interest. If Broadstone had not been a fool and a coward , there 'would have been no need for drastic measures. He would tell her, and no sooner had he made the resolve than lie went off to carry it out. V The luck was I ;with him in one respect. He' found Eva alone in her room; Sadie having gone away.to give some instructions in connection with their departure. - Eva. was intently- surprised at his en--1 ranee. " They told mo you had gone away, Mr-. Dorrison?" '"V
'.'I came back this, morning. I have something to say -to* you which cannot be put off. I have very Serious news, and you must not go away in ignorance of it." " Serious news?" Eva had grown to fear him, and his stern looks now increased her alarm and disgust. "Bertram is coming here in a moment; wait until he comes," she said. . \
Ho paused, thinking how to strike the blow so that it should do the greatest harm. V "Oh, Bertram knows all about it. He lias done it all. You have\been grossly deceived. I am the next heir to Broadstone, yon know, and held my tingue until this news of your child; came. You are not Bertram's wife. His first wife it living ; and I can't surrender my rights to your illegitimate child." \
His cunning had not betrayed him. It was a dastardly blow; and his, had chosen the most cruel way of striking it. The blood left her face. She Reeled back, leaning against a table for support as she stared at him helpless and almost.fainting. "'lllegitimate?'" The word came faltering through her livid, trembling '.lips, and had he been other than the callous-brute he was the sight of her pain would have checked his brutal words. But it had the opposite effect; and with coldly calculated cruelty he turned the sword in the wound. "Yes, illegitimate," he repeated;, with sneering emphasis on the word. " I'd do a lot for Broadstone, but I won't give ufr my birthright to the child of his—mistress," " Oh, mercy," she cried, shrinking and shuddering, as her hands clenched in ago\iy. Lord Broadstone came in then. "Gilbert! You here. Eva! Why, whatever's the matter?" "I have just told her that she is not your wife, Bertram." " Bertram. For heaven's sake say it isn't true." "He can't unless he lies," said Domson, with another sneer. " I warned him before he committed bigamy in marrying yon." Sadie, hearing voices, hurried in, and ran to Eva and put her arm round her. " Dearest." -
" He tells me I am not Bertram's wife. And that my child—oh, Margaret, Margaret!" .'.-■' " She knows it, too," declared Dorrison. But Eva did not hear that. She had
I -tainted in Sadie's arms. j| " You had better send at once. for the !; doctor/ Lord Broadstone; and,fake that villain out of the room."-
Ddrrison shrugged his shoulders. "You've forced this," he said. "You tried to hurry her away. Now you can see the result.' "Hi may kill her. And you will then have murdered her as you murdered her .brother." ' Dorrison made no reply; but with another shrug of the shoulders followed Broadstone who had already hurried away to summon the doctor.
CHAPTER XXV. BETWEEN LIFE AXD DEATH. Dorrison had struck his cowardly blow only too cunningly; and Eva went down before the shock of it like a wilted lily. From one fainting fit she passed to another, with only brief intervals of miserable consciousness, during which she lay at ono time like a child numbed v/ith suffering" and at another convulsed by a. storm and passion of hysterical grief. She clung to Sadie at such times, sob- ; bing and moaning and praying vehemently to be allowed to die. In vain Sadie sought to calm and soothe her, knowing too well that in her weakened state of health a crisis might come at any moment which would not only imperil Eva's life, but that other embryo life, the hope and prospect of which had alone saved Eva from despair. And early in the evening the crisis came. "There will ba no heir to Broadstone," whispered the servants one to the other; and the great house was hushed in suspense as the shadow of death hovered in the big corridor and paused on the threshold of Eva's sick room. Lord Broadstone went ofteu to the door; and the servants meeting him on the stairs and near the sick room noted his face, white and strained with agitation; and whispered one to another that it evidenced his remorse for his past treatment of their beloved young mistress. But his agitation and suspense came from far other causes. He and Dorrison had had a short interview after the scene with Eva; and Broadstone had begun by reviling his cousin hotly for what he had gone. But Dorrison laughed. " You always were 11. fool, Bertram, and you always will be. She had to know the truth, some time," he said callously; "and if it kills her so much the better for her. Better a quick death than a lingering life with an illegitimate kid. To such a woman that would be like hell." "You are an infernal villain; nothing less." "Very well. You're not such a saint that a few curses from you will do me much harm. You don't want her to live, do you? She'll make it pretty hot for you if she does." •' You'll leave Broadstone at once." "Of course. I've no fancy for a sick house with such a plaster saint as 'you, verv much the worse for wear, at the head of "it." "Why did you come back at all?" "To look after my own interests; aud having done that, I am going again. But what are you going to gain by quarrelling with' mo "in this sudden rush of virtuous indignation?" "I'll have no more to do with you as long as I live." "Well, .that won't be long unless you get sent, to-gaol as a bigamist. I believe the prison routine is very healthy." "It won't be long if you have your way." Dorrison laughed. '" You needn't be in such a hurry to show the white feather about me.; Now look here. I'm off directly; but before I start I want to put' a little common sense into your head. The best thing that can happen for you especially for you—is that Eva should die."
"I don't want to hear any more of that sort of common eense." "She. is the only one who can punish yon for the 'first marriage. If she recovers you may trust that she-devil upstairs, who calls herself Margaret Hutchinson, to do her worst against you. She can twist Eva round either of her little fingers; and if Eva gets bettor you'll stand in the dock and lose a million and a-half sterling into the bargain." "Go to the devil, Gilbert." " You've got a chance the devil himself might have sent you. .Use it, and don't be a squeamish fool. She won't wish to live —help her to realise her wish." With that parting counsel of evil Dor-, rison went out to the carriage that was waiting to take him' to hie train. He was in a quite comfortable, self-congratu-latory mood. His return had been a complete success. The proofs against him were destroyed, and. he had nothing now to fear.
Gardiner might swear him/self black in the face, and Mrs. Porlock might fell any tale she pleased to the whole world. Nothing could touch him. That night attempt would be laughed away as a sleepy woman's dream. No motive *fcr any such attempt could now be proved, and' without a motive there were not a dozen men in the country, to eay nothing of inside a single jury box, who would believe such a charge for an instant. There might be some gossip on the score of the bluntness with which he had told Eva the truth. But if she lived it could be easily explained as the result of excitement. It was 'the news itself that mattered, not the way of telling it. While if she died no one would ever know it. Moreover, he had made his sucession to Broadstone certain.. Bertram would try no more matrimonial ventures, even with Gertrude Hamyl. (To be continued daily.)
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New Zealand Herald, Volume XLV, Issue 13673, 14 February 1908, Page 3
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2,302THE CASE OF DADY BROADSTONE. New Zealand Herald, Volume XLV, Issue 13673, 14 February 1908, Page 3
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