A Hidden Foe.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 994, 20 March 1891, Page 10

A Hidden Foe.

[NOW FIRST PUBLISHED.]

A STORY OF LOVE AND MYSTERY. By G. A. HENTY. Author of ‘The Curse of Carne’s Hold,’ ‘ Gabriel Allen, M.P.,’ &0., &o. [ Ar.r. Rights Reserved, j CHAPTER XYIII. Leaving Constance on guard, Philip Clitheroe turned to the wounded officer. ‘ Bravely done,’ the latter said feebly. ‘ You have thrashed the scoundrels handsomely. You can do nothing, lad, they have done for me; the fellow stabbed me over the left breast, and it has gone through my lungs. 1 had just strength for that one shot, and then as I dropped the pistol that brave girl snatched it up. You have won a treasure, Philip. She is one in ten thousand,’ for from their calling each other by their Christian names, Mr Solden had supposed that Philip and Constance were engaged. ‘Can’t I do anything ?’ Philip urged. ‘ You can give me a drink of grog, lad; then let me lie here, and look to Gifford. I hope to God he is not hit as hard as I am.’

Philip raised Gifford and placed him in a sitting position by the side of the boat. Annette had by this time joined the party. * Here is the wound,’ Philip said, ‘just below the shoulder. He was struck from above, and I hope that the knife has glanced down inside the ribs without touching the lungs.' * X know you have scissors, Annette ; will you cut off his coat and shirt. I will help you directly, but I must first get some drink for Solden.’ He lowered the dipper into the cask, and poured some rum into the water. ‘ I don’t think there is any occasion for you to watch any longer, Constance. The fellows are too disheartened to try again. 'Will you attend to Mr Solden, while we look after Gifford.’ Philip now turned to Gifford again. ‘ Tear a strip off the bottom of your petticoat, Madame Renan,’ lie said. ‘lt is an awkward place to bandage, but we must manage somehow.’ As soon as the strip was torn* 8 oft' Philip cut off a portion of it and wound it up into a wad, which he placed over the wound, and- bandaged this on as tightly as he could by passing the rest of the bandage two or three times round the body and over the shoulder. ‘I think that will do,’ he said, ‘if you put a pin into this end.’ Then he mixed a little strong rum and water and poured it between Gifford's teeth, previously laying him down in the bottom of the boat and placing a rug under his head. ‘ Now, Madame, I must get you to see to me, for I am bleeding pretty freely, and it won’t do for me to get weak just now. Take hold of . the sleeve of my coat and draw it off as gently as you can. That is-it ;.now you can slit the shirt sleeve up and get at it.’ It was an ugly gash extending from the shoulder to the elbow.

* Cut che sleeve off altogether,’ he said, * and make a roll of it and lay it along the wound. 1 , Then I will have another strip of your petticoat for a bandage. That will do; don’t be afraid of hurting me. It must be done tightly to bring the edges together. There, that will do capitally.’ At this moment the sail gave a flap and then bellied out.

* There is the breeze again, lad, ’ Mr Solden said, faintly. ‘I told you it would come. Thank God you and this brave young lady may be saved to be happy together yet.’ Constance was kneeling by the dying man’s side, and Philip could not see her face, but he felt his own flush hotly. ‘Don’t grieve for me, my dear,’ Mr Solden went on. ‘ I have no one at home to take it to heart, and it makes little matter whether it is now or twenty years hence. I was getting pretty near tired of voyaging to and fro. It seems such a long time since I was a boy at Portsmouth. They were pleasant days, too, when I used to sail across to Ryde, and sometimes up to Southampton. There was Tommy Johnson used to go with me—a round faced chap with blue eyes—and my cousin Joe; poor J oe, he was drowned, while I was serving my apprenticeship;*

His voice had become slower and fainter as he went on, and Constance could scarce hear the last words. The lips moved again and he muttered ‘Full steam ahead.’ There was one more struggling breath and then he lay still and quiet. Philip put his hand on her shoulder. ‘ You had.better go back to your place, Constance, the poor fellow has gone. Draw the screen again.’ During this scene the third woman had never moved, but lay listlessly with her head on the gunwale. ‘ Philip, please give me some brandy and water. Her lips are black and she seems quite insensible.’ Philip filled a half pint pannikin and passed it aft. * Do you and Madame take a drink fii'st, Constance, I am sure you must both want it. Pour a little down the woman’s throat. If she revives I will give her some more. AYe need not be so particular now; there are less mouths to feed, and it seems to me that the wind is freshening steady. AYe shall have a nice breeze ere long, and it is just in the right direction.’ ‘ Now, you forward there, examine if there is any life in those three men. If not, heave their bodies overboard. There are two others forward, who, I think, died in the night.’ The men who had been shot were all dead, as were the two men in the bow.

‘ Now, men, I advise you to return to your duty, and if you work cheerfully and well until we get in, I shall say nothing about your share in this affair. If you don’t, I shall hand you over to the Dutch authorities as mutineers, and you will be all hung to a certainty. ‘ AYe plenty ready work, sah, 5 one of the Seedy boys said. * Those bad men led us wi’ong. AYe plenty sorry made bobbery.’ ‘ AYell, you had better not do it again, anyhow, for I shall clear the lot of you out if you do. Now just tell the other men what I say, and then if you behave well I shall serve out a double allowance of watei* for breakfast to-day.’ There were now but six of the crew left forward, and as those who had led the attack were doubtless the moving spii'its in the affair, Philip had little fear that they would again venture on any such step, In. half an hour the boat was thoroughly washed down and all signs of the late conflict removed. The boat was running through the water at some four knots an hour, for she was now fairly in trim, being greatly lightened by she loss of half those who had started in hex', and by the water and provisions consumed. AYhen all was clear, half a pint of weak grog was served out forward, with some biscuit and meat. The breeze moderated the heat, and the rustle of the water against the bends was a grateful sound in their ears. ‘ How is your companion V Philip asked through the screen. ‘ She is better, and she will be better still, I think, when she has had something more to drink.’ * AYe must have breakfast,’ Philip said, cheerfully, ‘ and that will do us all good. I have just given the men a double allowance and we will take the same. I want you to manage something to keep the sun off Gifford. I think you might try him with another spoonful oi' two of brandy and water, and pxxt something wet round his head. Now that we are sailing I must attend to the rudder lines. The breakfast was eaten with more zest than had been felt since the calm set in. Gifford was then attended to, and presently opened his eyes. He looked round in a dazed way.

* Don’t try to move, Mr Gifford,’ Annette said, stooping over him. ‘ There has been trouble with the crew, hut that is all past. Yqxi have been badly wounded, but we hope that you will get over it. You must lie qxxiet. * AYe will soon get you roxxnd, old fellow,’ Philip said, cheerfully. * AYe have got the wind at last and are bowling along mei'rily. Don’t ask any questions now, or try to talk ; you have had a very naiTOw escape, and must keep yourself quiet for a bit. If we go on like this, and I should not be surprised if we go faster, we shall see the coast of Java in another foixr days, and then we shall soon have you on your legs again.’ Gifford smiled feebly and then closed his eyes, and by his l’egular breathing they saw ere long that he was asleep. The wind continued to freshen, and by the afternoon they had added a knot to their speed. ‘That will do for its nicely,’

Philip said. * AVe want no more and no less.’

The wind continued to blow steadily, and in the aftei'noon of the fourth day after the fight Philip saw the men forward talking excitedly together and pointing ahead of the boat. * Dar is land, sah, sartin, sure dat land.’ Philip saw something that looked like a faint haze in the distance, but could not have told whether it was land or a light cloud. His eyes indeed were heavy. Pie knew on the morning when the bi’eeze spi'ang up that he could not steer alone foi' the foixi' or five days which must elapse before they could reach land. Constance had also l'ecognised this fact, and as soon as they had settled down after their first meal she said, ‘ You must give me lessons in steering, Coxxsin Philip. It does not seenx difficult. You seem to hold both the x'opes tight, and the boat goes along straight.’ ‘ I shall be glad to teach you, Constance. AYitlx a quiet, steady bi'eeze like this there is l'eally no difficulty in it, but it wants attention and cai'e. You see that black mark on the side of the compass easel’ ‘ Yes, I see that.’ ‘ Now, you see that the letter 1 E on the compass is just in a line with that. AYell, you have to keep it so. If you see the letter E go to the right of that mark, you have to pull the right hand cord. If it goes to the left you pull the left hand ; but with a breeze almost dead aft like this she almost steers herself, and.the less you pull the lines the bettex - .’ ‘That seems perfectly easy. Now give me the seat and let me try.’ She found it was at first much more difficult than it looked, and do what she would she could not keep the E on the black mark. ‘ You pulL the strings much too hard, Constance. The least touch is sufficient. ’ * But I cannot, keep my eyes off the compass at all, Philip. You only glance at it occasionally.’ * I steer by the sail as long as the wind keeps perfectly steady. It is only necessary to glance occasionally at the compass, and you will soon see that if you let the boat go on her own course she will keep very near to the point, and an occasional slight pressure on one line or the other will be all that is required. ',, , After two or three hours’ practice Constance leai-ned that she could keep the boat straight with but little trouble. ‘ Now, Philip, you must lie down; it is quite impossible for you to keep up night and day. I will steer, and Annette will keep a watch upon the men.’ ‘ I will lie down then,’ Philip replied. ‘ I don’t think the men will give any more trouble, but we dare not risk it. If I am to be vigilant to-night I must get a few hours’ sleep, if possible, in the day; but be sure and wake me if there is any change whatever in the force ot' direction of the wind.’ And so during the next thi'ee days Philip slept five or six hours each day. The woman in the stern had improved much. The compai'ative freshness of the air, the somewhat larger supply of water now served out, and above all the hopes rekindled by the steady progress of the boat, effected wonders for her, Young Gifford seemed to be making progress, bxxt his recovery was retarded by his bitter regret that lie should have slept on his post, and that that sleep should have cost the life of Mr Solden. Still, he was mending, and Philip began to entertain hopes that his diagnosis of the wound had been a cori’ect one, and that no vital part had been injured by the Lascai-’s knife. The joy of all on board was great indeed when they became assui’ed that it was really land befoi’e them. As soon as they could see that it stretched right across their coui'se, Philip turned the boat’s head somewhat to the north. ‘ The Straits must lie there,’ he said. ‘ AYe will bear on the course that we ai'e now holding until we get close in, and then coast along until we get to the northern point of the island. If we see a village aixd tlie landing seems easy we will run ashoi'e and get a barrel of water and some fruit.’ ‘ Are the natives fi'iendly V ‘Oh, yes. The island has been in Dutch possession fox* Hundreds ofyeai’s, and the natives are semi-civilised, cultivate spice plantations and that sort of thing. There is no fear of any trouble wliatevex' with them.’ The next morning when Annei te axid Constance awoke they saw that the

boat was running along the shore at a distance of about half a mile.

‘I think that we are just at the northern point of the Island,’ Philip said. *lt seems to me to ti-end right away there, but in another few minutes we shall open a point far enongh to see.’

It was indeed as Philip supposed, the entrance to the Straits. In a few minutes the sheet was paid out, the helm put up, and they were again steering east. A pint of water was served out to each, and Constance made tea for those in the stern, a luxury that had for the last four days been given up, as the supply of spirits for boiling the water had almost come to an end.

They passed sevei’al villages, oixe or two of which were large enough to be called towns, but they agreed that as the wind was so favourable it was better they should go on at once to Batavia, where they would be sui’e to find comfortable accommodation, people who could speak English, and a ship perhaps that would take them on their voyage. The coast was very beautiful, and after seeing nothing but sea and sky for so long was doubly appreciated. Native craft stole along by the shore ; inland hills rose one behind another, for the most part covered with verdure, though some of them rose boldly up in rocky precipices almost from the water’s edge. Tlxe next day a lai-ge town, with shipping lying anchoi'ed off it, was. made out, and a couple of hoxii-s later they landed at Batavia. As they neared the wharf they were hailed with shou 1 s and waving of hats, and as they set foot on shox-e were surrounded by many of the crew and passengei's of the Aden, and their hands warmly shaken by many with whom they had not exchanged a word on board ship. The captain was among them. ‘ AYe had almost begun to give you up,’ he said. ‘ AYe got in six days ago, and a steamer at once set out to look for you.’ ' ‘ Are we tlie only boat that was missing V ‘ No, there is another, the cutter, still unaccoxinted fox*. The other boats all ax-rived safely, dropping in one after the other. The last came in two days ago. But I see your number is greatly diminished. AYhere is Mr Solden ? He was in command.’ He is dead, six-. He was stabbed by one of the Lascars. One of the male passengei’s and one female died, and one is, as you see, seriously wounded, but he is, I hope, recovering. Five of the natives either died or jumped overboard—foui- were killed iu tlxe fight. ’ By this time Mr Gifford had been carefully carx-ied ashore by four men. ‘ AYell, I am heartily glad to see some of you safe,’ the captain said, * your stox-v will keep. AYe will go up at once to tlie hotel and get the ladies and this poor fellow into quartex-s there. The place is pretty full as you may imagine, but some of the gentlemen will tui'n oixt to make room for them. They will find rooms for you no doubt. AYe were delighted, as you may imagine, when the l-eport came that a white boat under sail was appi-oaching, foi- we felt sure that it coxxld be no other than one of oxxr missing craft.’ As soon as the ladies were safely cared for, Philip sat down to a hearty meal, and while he was eating it leai-ned fi'om the captain how the other boats had fared. After the storm they had all to take/ to their oars, hut being as it seemed further to the ixortlx than was Mr Solden’s boat when the wind dropped, had been occasionally helped by light breezes. They bad all been on short allowance of water before they l'eaclied Batavia, but bad not been reduced to great straits. Many of the passengei-s were quartered in the houses of the Dutch merchants, who showed them the greatest kindness and hospitality. Some of them had already left in a sailing ship for Axxstralia, and an ai'rangement had been made with another vessel to take on the l'esfc in a week’s time. The officei’S and crew of the Aden wei-e to go xxp to Singapore in a steamer which had come in on the previous evening. The sui-geons who examined Mr Gifford’s wounds gave strong hopes of his recovery. He would have died long before tlxis, they agreed, had his lungs been piei-ced, aixd unless fever or some unforeseen complication set in there was every ground for hope that he would pull l’ound. Philip saw nothing of his coxxsin or Annette for the first two days after bis arrival in Batavia. The latter broke

down completely after the strain was over, and Constance remained in attendance on her.

On the evening of the third day Philip sent up a note to Constance, begging her to come down and take a stroll in the cool, as he was sure she would be ill if she shut herself up so long. He was waiting for her when she came downstaii*s, and but few words were said as they went out together. The sun had set, and the short twilight was fading and the stars beginning to show the deep blue of the sky. ‘ I can hai'dly believe it is all over, Philip, and that that terrible voyage has come to an end.’

*lt was tei-rible in some respects, Philip said; ‘yet T think that on the whole, in spite of its discomforts, I was never happier in my life. Yoxx see, Constance, we got to be really cousins, which wo should never have done otherwise. ’

Tlie girl was silent. ‘ I have thought over the past very often, Philip,’ she said, after a long pause, ‘ and thei'e is one thing I must ask you, because it has puzzled me ever since. "Why, if you had known who I was, should you have shunned me like the pest? I know it wasn’t because you hated me for depriving you of your fortune. I know you too well to think that for a moment ; but if it wasn’t that, what was it ? You have never heard anything against me, have you?’ ‘No, no,’he said, earnestly, ‘it was not that; how could you dream of it ?’ ‘ But it must have been something, Philip. You were speaking from your heart, and I felt that every word was true, and that as well as the rest.’ ‘ And you believed that when I told you I loved you, that was true also.’ * Yes, Philip, I could not doubt it. AYhy else should you have told me so when you did not know who I was?’ * AYhy, indeed,’ he repeated, * and if I loved you then, when I had only seen - you in pleasant times and in fair weather 1 , how much more must I do so now that I have seen you in trials and dangers—now that I know so much more about what you are,* ‘AYe both of us know each other better,’ she said gently. ‘ And yet I feel that altogether in that you are changed to me, that whatever it was that would have made you slum me like a pest was still between us. I think I have a right to know what it is.’ ' ■ Philip was silent. ‘ My dear,’ he said, after a pause, ‘it is a secret not altogether my own. It was that which drove me from England —a shameful action that I fear has dishonoured my name. Not my own action, Constance, but which yet seems to weigh more upon me than if it had yet been. It is a secret I cannot tell even to you.’ ‘ And yet you would have married Miss Renan,’ Constance said after a long pause. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘ but I should have mari'ied her as Sam Brown. Not for years, not until after an event that may be years distant, should I have told her my name.’ ‘ Is that all you are going to tell me, Philip ? All you will ever be able to tell me ?’

‘ I don’t know,* he said hoai-sely; « perhaps some day ’ and he stopped. ‘ Is that qxiite fail’, Philip ?’ Constance urged. ‘ Quite fair to me as well as yourself V ‘ It is not fair, he said passionately. ‘ I will tell you before we separate, before you sail borne, your mission fulfilled. You have a light to know, and when I have told you you will feel that it is impossible for me to say to Constance Coi'byn what I said to Miss Renan.’ ‘ You give me your solemn promise that you will do so before we part V «On my woid and honour 1 , Constance ; it will be a hoi-rible stoiy to have to tell, but you shall hear it.’ ‘I am content with that,’ she said, quietly. ‘Now let us go back to the hotel.’ A few days’ rest and quiet restored Madanxe Duporfe, and she was almost herself by the time the vessel was ready to sail for Melbourne. * Is there anything the matter between you and Mr Clitheroe, Constance ?’ she asked, when they had been two or tlix-eo days at sea. ‘You do not laugh and chat together as you used to on board the Aden. You are not even as you were in the boat. You are friendly, but it is quite different. Has be asked you again, and have you refused him ? I thought it would have been different tlxis time, and I hoped so so much. It would have been such a happy ending to your troubles.’

*He has not asked mo again, Annette. I don’t know that he ever will, though he knows well what my answer would be now. We have had a talk together, Annette. I cannot tell even you what it was, but I shall know some day. Please don’t speak anymore about it.’ * It cannot be about money,’ Annette urged. ‘ One or other of you must own the Corbyn estates. If you love each other, what matters which it is V * Money!’ Constance repeated with scorn. ‘ Had neither of us a penny in the world, arid were Philip Clitheroe a cripple and unable to work, I would slave for him with my bare bands. After this Annette had nothing more to say. It was another of the puzzlos connected with the child’s affairs, and she "supposed like the test it would be solved in good time.

The voyage was uneventful, and they had a speedy run to Melbourne. ‘ And where next, Constance ? Philip asked, as they leant upon the bulwark and watched the shore. Constance looked round in surprise. ‘I forgot you did not know where Morson lives. It is near Brisbane. We shall have to take a steamer from here, at least so Mr Harbut told me. It is a comfort having you with us. When I talked about coming out here, I said that I didn’t see any reason why a woman should not travel alGne, still less tivo women; but I have changed my mind about it now, and it Avill be very nice for you to see about e\ rerything, and act as protector in general. I only hope that avg shall not find Morson gone.’ ‘Why should you find hip gone?’ Philip asked. ‘ Well, you know, that Avas what I told you when I was so stupid to suspect you.’ ‘ I am sure you did not tell me anything about Morson leaving. You did not say a word about him.’ ‘ Ho; of course, I did not enter into particulars. Our idea Avas, Mr Harbufc’s and mine, you knoAv, that the people, whoever they were, Avho had been down to Woodstock to get Morson’s address out here, might have either sent out or written to him. Of course we don’t know for certain that they did get this address. When Mr Harbut asked Morson for it—l mean theTSlofsori at Woodstock—be told him that he was not sure Avhat his brother’s address was, hut that he would write out, and perhaps he Avould let him know in. about three months. Mr Harbut found out that the brother Avas telling a story, for that he often got letters Avith the Australian postmark ; so what we thought was that his brother had told him not to give his address to anyone until he gave him leave. Well these other people had been at Woodstock a short time, ten days or a fortnight, after my father’s death, and there would have been time for a letter to go out to Sydney and for an ans Aver to come back before Mr Harbut went there. Mr Harbut said the butcher seemed a malicious sort of fellow, and to take a sort of satisfaction in keeping him in the dark, and he thought it likely enough that he had premised to let these other people know if anyone else called to enquire about his brother. Our idea was, Philip, that when these other people knew we were on the track of Morson, they would send out at once, if they had not done so before, to get him out of the Avay or to bribe him to refuse to give us any information. _ So I determined to start by the next steamer, thinking it quite possible that whoever they sent out might be a passenger by it too. That was hoAv— ’ and she hesitated.

‘ Hoav you came to suspect me, Constance, and A T ery natural too,’ Philip, who bad been listening, with a troubled face, said quietly. ‘ And you thought these other people would know you on board the steamer.’ ‘We were almost sure they would, Philip, for we were watched on our way to the office, and though we got out of the cab and A\*ent on in an omnibus, Mr Harbut said that be did, not* think that we bad thrown them olf the track.’ ‘Poor little girl,’ Philip said, ‘you have been horribly persecuted. What you say is quite possible,’ be went on. ‘ These other people may have written out before you, found out this man’s address, or they may have sent someone out in the steamer. By-the-way, bow did yon find out the address if the butcher Avould not give it V * Mr Harbut found out that the man who is living here had a married sister living at Banbury, and he Avent there and saw her, and she gave him the address at once.’

‘ He seems to have been very busy, this Mr Harbut ? Philip said, shoi’tly. ‘He was Avontlerfully good and kind,’ Constance said, simply, ‘he and a young lady he is engaged to, a Miss Leicester; she got me the post of companion Avith Miss Peyton, Avho is an aunt of hors, and who was as kind to me as they Avere.’ Philip stood some time Avatcliing the shore in silence. *We Avill go on by the next steamer, Constance, and T hope that, as you say, Ave may find this Morson at the address you gob. Of course, a good deal of it will depend upon Avhether he is an- honest man, and then a good deal Avill depend upon how he is doing out there. If he is an honest man he will, of course, refuse to accept a bribe, and will probably knock doAvn the man Avho tries to make it. If he is not honest, but at the same time is doing well, it Avill probably take a larger bribe than these other people can give him to sell out and move. What Avas the offer you were going to make him V * I Avas going to offer him a thousand pounds to come to England to give evidence that he Avas present at the marriage, or if he Ayould not agree to that, to offer him a smaller sum to make a deposition before a magistrate. Mr Harbut said that it would be far better that he should come to England, because Ave should have to get all s6rts of proof to satisfy an English court that the magistrate Avas a magistrate.’ ‘ I think we shall find Morson there, Constance, and -shall get him to give his evidence either there or in England. Eerris told me that it Avas Harbut’s idea that the man is aware your father never acknoAvledged you, and has been intending to make money out of you or me. When he sees us both there together; and sees that there is no possibility of getting money out of either one or the other, he may not he averse to tell Avhat he knoAvs.’ * Unless he has been bribed by the other people,’ Constance put in. ‘ A man who Avill take a bribe from one side Avill take it from the other,* Philip said. ‘ Besides, he .may only have been promised money, which is a different thing from getting it. They would not send him over a large sum of money, even if they had it, till they knew that he had accepted their proposal, and you see even if they knew that you had started for Australia, they cannot knoAv that you have got his address, and Avill think that you may never find him, or, at any rate, that you will be months before you do so, and that there will be plenty of time to write again to him when they get his answer, and to bribe him to silence before you get at him.’ ‘ That is so,’ Constance agreed. ‘lt is all so extraordinary who these people can be. It is not you, and Avho else can there be interested in preventing my proving my mother’s marriage. I suppose you have not the least idea, Philip V Philip did not reply, and Constance, glancing up, saw such an expression of pain on his face that she Avas startled. It was the expression she had seen there when her eyes first fell on him on board the Mandalay. She laid her hand wistfully on his arm, and his face softened. ‘You shall hear all about it some day, Constance ; don’t ask me now.’ A steamer was starting in tAvo days for Sydney, and Brisbane, and after a pleasant voyage they arrived at the latter town. The party Avent to an hotel, and as soon as they Avere settled there Philip Avent out and enquired at the Police-office whether there Avas, or had been, a stable keeper or horse dealer there of the name of Morson.

* Ob, yes ; there Avas a man of that name had a stable here two years ago. What do you want to know about him V * I am an English barrister, and have come out to make some enquiries about him. ’ * He was here some years ago,’ the Inspector said; * lie came from Melbourne. I fancy we made Victoria too -ho.t for him. A good many of these bbfse dealers are sharp bands, but I think he is sharper than most of them. I heard that in Melbourne he was accused of buying up horses stolen up the country, and clippingand fattening them till .their owners Avouldn’t knoAv them. I don’t know that he Avas absolutely caught at it; I suppose he Avasn’t, else he Avould not have got away here; but the suspicions are pretty strung against him. When he got here we had a report from them, and he got a hint that a sharp eye would be kept on him. Anyhow for some years he Avent on, so far as we know, straight enqugh. Then he

began to get into his old Avays, and we had two or three complaints against him for fattening up old screAvs and selling them at high prices to green horns. There Avas one very bad case we heard of, but Avhen it came to the last the man Avouldn’t prosecute. I suppose he didn’t like to risk being laughed at for having been taken in o\ r er a horse. However, after that Morson thought it was as Avell to clear out for a bit, and he sold his business, or pretended to sell it—one is as likely as the other—to another man, and went out to a farm he has got about twenty miles from here. He always bred a feAv horses there, but I believe since then he has gone in on a biggish scale. He has bought up another farm or two adjoining, and runs two or three hundred horses there, and if he Avill but keep straight ought to do Avell, for I have heard that there is no better judge in the colony of the points of a horse. He has got a few thoroughbreds there, and ought to breed good stock.’ ‘ Then I am likely to find him there, I suppose V ‘ Yes, as far as I knoAv. But, of course, he might have gone up the country buying horses.’ ‘ Thank you, I am much obliged to you,’ Philip said. *1 have nothing absolutely against the man, but I want to find out the particulars of a transaction in Avliich he was mixed up in England years ago.’ * I don’t think you will get much out of him, unless it suits him to tell,' the Inspector said. ‘Heis a close fellow, and a very shreAvd one.’ ‘I am ready to pay yvell for information, Inspector.’ ‘ Ah, well; in that case, if it does not incriminate himself, you may get it.’ The next morning early a carriage from the hotel started with Constance, Annette, and Philip for Ash Farm. When they reached the house, which Avas of good size, but had a neglected appearance, as if its owner cared but little for appearances, they alighted from the vehicle. Very feAv words had been spoken during the drive out. Constance Avas anxious and agitated, noAV that the moment Avas at hand Avhen she would either succeed in obtaining evidence which Avould pi'ove her mother’s marriage or fail altogether. Philip was silent also, and had it not been that Constance felt perfectly assured that the loss of his estates Avas not Aveighing on his mind, she might have thought that, disinterested as he might be, be felt a little regret noAV that the moment had arriyed when the matter would be definitely settled.Annette Avas the only one of the party who Avas at all disposed to-be cheerful. This trip Avas to. her the end of her long journey, and whatever came of it she would shortly be on her homeward way tOAvards Victor and her comfortable cottage at St. Malo. She greatly wished that Constance should attain her object; but she felt sure that if she failed she Avould become in another Avay mistress of Corbyn Court. A man came out of the house as they drove up, and in answer to Philip’s inquiries said that the boss was out somewhere on the farm, but would be back at twelve o’clock to his dinner. As it was already past eleven, it was no use going out to look for him, and they Avalked about the place and looked at some young foals in a paddock near the house until the hour approached. Just as they reached the door a man rode up who answered so accurately to the description Robert Harbut bad received of him from tlie porter of St. Boniface, that Constance Avas sure he Avas the man they had came so far to meet. He was dressed in horsey style, with tight breeches, high boots, cutaAvay coat, a drab waistcoat, and a green scarf Avith a horse shoe pin. His face was clean shaved, he had a thin, crafty month, eyes Avith many Avrinkles at the corners, and light, thin eyebrows ; his hair was brushed smoothly doAvn on his face, Avith a slight curl lying close on the right temple. (To be continued.)

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