BRIARROSE

New Zealand Times, Volume LI, Issue 12008, 10 December 1924, Page 4

BRIARROSE

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

By

C. N. & A. M. WILLIAMSON

Author’of "Tina Woman to This Man,® "Ths Princess Passes," "Tin Lightning Conductor,'* "The Gar of Destiny,” "The Golden Silence," ' “ Eti., Etc.

—•— ■ n COPYRIGHT

CHAPTER XXXVI.—THE ’WEEDING DAY. ' For the first tinio in his t hfe Julian Ferrier had failed—and failed miserably. He wished to think that it-.was the fault of Janet’s blundering, and ho hated her for the bitter disappointment and smarting, humiliation . under which he Writhed. She ought to have known better thdn to yell at the top of her voice through the telephone, close to : nn open window. What a fool she was! Or had she purposely betrayed him, suspecting'that he meant to betray her.- 1 If she had played the game with intelligence or decent loyalty, it must have succeeded. Now, everything was lost. He dared not try to hold the Pagets through fear of their wretched secret coining out, for in reality it-Wss the Pagets and O’Donpvan who held him. Parsons’s story, and that of the man- Carson, packed up by evidence from the girl-detective,; could make him look a knave in the eyes of the world. He .would not be able to lift ms head again. His practice would be gone. The only. hope'* left* would be to; go abroad. The thought of his position, aiid his dependence.; on Donovan’s will was gall and wormwood to Julian’s vanity! Sitting ,in his consulting-r Com in the ,NeW York, hojuse, safe from any intruder at that hour, lie dropped his face in his'hands and groaned. _ ‘ “Ourse the mail!”' he almost sobbed. “He’lt have the girl! I can’t stop him. I’ve shot my last .holt!” Then suddenly' he flung up his head. “Have It” ho asked himself - aloud. “Ass—to forget!” Julian jumped up and went to the telephone. ' , “I waist to. speak to Kearney,no one else,” he said, when .he had got the detective agency. “That you, Kearney ? Just ; going home ? Well, I’m glad I caught you. Any news for me from Italyr What!—you tried to get hie this morning and couldn’t? Well, It’s hot too late now.' Something important P Will you come'here, or.shall Igo to yon? It doesn’t matter. All tight, rit he there as soon as a taxi can take me.’* . ' . ..

Rearhey was waitng alono in his ofI fice when Ferrier appeared. He had . sent aWay his. stenographer, and sat. at his desk, with .a number of papers ; spread Out hefore him. “Cipher tele-' grams dnd their.translations,” he explained. “And-my men have .found out soepe funny tbingsU :. Makes-the world; seem small Did; vou knoW, for hi®- . stance, that Reardon O’Donovan mar-/ , tied a cousin of. Mrs Moreton Thorne;' > of/ Fountains Manor ? Well, he did,: and '.took .her. to Castolario, near Tag( gia, Italy. But not till after the was born in Canada. 'ln looking ugf their antecedents; ; wedug ■Up the* mystery df that break between the ho« pital where O’DonoVan nearly died';, and Canada where he married. The, time dropped - out was . spent at Foun*, tains Manor’, net so much as the friend: of old' Moreton. Thorpe, as of the girlwife., Why should he have, been kept and fed by the old. tyrant?—for Moreton Thorpe was a'tyrant. We’ve solved that mystery, " too. Hie girl— Thorpe's ward, partly Italian, was a great beauty, one woman in a century sort of thingbut she was a klfeptomattiac. i We’ve learned this through an old diary of hers in the-hands of a person once a nurse—where- do you think P—at Castelariol ; - But we’ll come to Castelario in good time, as she did. It sOems ' the; girl' stole something at the store O’Donovan had Started —since then* ‘ called .- ■ I(ichard • . Rhodes's. O’Donovan was on the spot, and spired her—-youth and beauty, and all that.' Thorpe married -her ' without knowing what she was, and humoured harlat firtit; let her give-grateful hospitality to O’Donovan, and . have a distant cousin (not unlike her, though older and plainer) for her companion in the big country house. “Later 'the; cousin was kicked out for stealing some, old fanlily jewels df Thorpe’s, and went' to Canada, where O’Donov&n had.gonnj -when he hot well. . The diary says that; the', girl-wife—Rosamond her fancy’ name was I —let. the cousin, plain Mary.' suffer.for her jaultl Reardon married! Mary, probably because she' was a bit like the woman he loved and couldn’t have. . It wasn’t till Rosamond Pearl was the mother- of two boys, andT one away' at school, that her kleptomania burst out again and , was discovered,.by the old man. Promptly and characteristically he turned her' away from house and home, -but she contrived to take the younger : boy along with her. Whether old Thorpe eared or not, who knows? We don’t; but orobably not,- or he'd have got the child hack, easy enough. The elder was his favourite anyhow—the man who’S living now: said to be.as like lii? father as one stick is to another stick.” “Tho boy the mother took is., dead, then?” Ferrier inquired with almoct suffocating eagerness. . j , “So we believe, though if'anything' big was at stake there might be ri doubt. Rosamond Pearl must have got off with a bit of money,, for she made for .Italy-—invited, perhaps and settled down n.t Castolario With hor child, to live with the Reardon O’Donovans and theirs.” “Good heavens!” “You seem a whole lot interested. But there’s queerer tilings to follow;. Judge" Paget lately retired from public : life after an illness, comes to Italy for his health,-and op a driving tour along the Italian Riviera sees tns beautiful Roeamond. She must ,have been getting oh towards thirty then, but judging from those who remember, shelooked not a day over twenty. She posed as. a young wid-jw, Mrs or Signora .Valoris —which had 'really been her maiden' name. The-Judge -was over forty at the time, but he' fell in love at first sight like a boy. At first Signora Valoris refused to marry, without, giving any reason, except that she was under a c.urse. and had np right, to inflict it on other folks. But she was m love with the man orfhis money, cr loth, and at last she cohsented.” “But her boyP What of him?” Ferrier broke in. ; “Oh. lie was dead by that time, it seems.” “It seems! But Michael, Reardon O’Donovan’s son —about the same age perhaps—wss very much alive.” “Yes, he was very much alive—as he is now. And, by the way, lie cOK.es fairly by his lovs of Jewels, doesn't ho,

considering that his mother, add Rosamond Pearl were distant ebusins, eh?" “Considering that they were distant cousins,” 1 Julian repeated, deep in .thought. He saw before his eyes the portrait, of a hard-faced man in a mar. red gold frame —the portrait Michael 0 'Donovan had saved at the risk of life! “Look here!” he said suddenly, ‘‘l want some more researches made at Castelario, and ipade : in a hurry. I’ll jot down a few notes for you. Kearney, and you can put' them into that wonderful cipher of yours, to wire cut to your man at Taggia. The sooner lie gets what I want, the more you get out of me,” “Rome wasn’t built in a day,” Kear-ney-reminded him. “These--inquiries take time.”

“They mustn’t take too ’much, or no use to make them at all,” Jufian answered. “Give me some paper for. my notes.” , When Michael heard the;broken Story' of Rosamond Valoris, and her marriagewith - Judge Paget- from- the home of Reardon O’Donovan, hi® quick ■ mind put two and two together.” The rambling narrative told by old Parsons on the night of the fire, and little anecdotes of the past from his own father’s lips, forced him - to the. conclusion that 'Rosamond Valoris and Rosamond : Thorpe, the runaway wife, were one and the same. He kept silence, not sure if Judge Paget were holding., something back, or if the old man had always remained ignorant of the truth. Parsons said that bis master had eventually, though very quietly, divorced / his wife for desertion; and therefore, in a way, Roeamond had a right to take another name and call herself a- widow. - That might have been/ well enough as a screen to shield her against gossip and scandal ; bu%—Michael; reflected—it was ndt. well enough in dealing with a man whose wife she meant to become. No doubt she had been alraid of Paget. He was one to inspire awe, far more than lcte; and, anyhow, Michael felt that it was-not for him to! judge a young and lovely wopjan craving, her share of happiness in the world’ What he suspected—almost' knew—'-cf Pearl’s mother he kept, to himself, a piteous - secret; The tragedy of her thwarted life and early death was dark enough already,, and the-dead past must bury, its past. He would never dig it up! Michael understood now why the name of O’Donovan had’ seemed to strike Judge Paget with something like fear, at their first meeting. ’, He had feared lest The man ’ wh’6 lbved.',’Jiis daughter - might, know about, .Rpsamondj Valoris and the tragic bOguq, at Reardon' O’Dorjovan’i house in Italy, all those yearn ago. Tie understood she why, now the secret was out, the hard old “map who. had suffered froimtich was glad rather than sorrv to give Pearl to one assbeia ted with the past. The two men wore drawn together By destiny. It touched i Michael that Pearl’s . father should lean unon him; and he.believed that, if he had not been an O’Donovan; consent to a speedv marria’ge wohld have been less'easy- to obtain. Ah it wash Judge Paget no longer raised objections. He showed affection. lor Peqrl since she had proved' herself stronger, than “fate” ;a nd because'‘of that affection he realised, perhaos, that she cOuld never be hapny With him. .They went back, he and she—without .Tanet—-to the cottage in , tho ’White-- Mbtuitatitt, and. O’Dpnovan followed to stay djl jdiS 1 hotel elewo "by. Quiet arrangements forthe wedding wont on, and it whs settled that Michael end Peart should start immediately afterwards for Europe. ' Judge.Paget would .go haqk to, Richmond, where he felt himself more, at home than, anvwhere else, and the; hono-ctnobn of “Aladdin” end'his'briftc would, last till the “palace" .was- ready ! for their home-coming. : ’ ' For tho first time in her. life Pearl; knew what’real happiness was like,; and her whole nature’ blossomed, in its; sunshine. In the beginning, her love! . for Michael—if it were up of : gratitude for his' trust.in her, admiration of' his strength, and a passionate longing for the warm rest- ; ing-pla.ee bis- protection-: would give.On' the night, of the fire she had' felt the first thrill of a woman’s love for a man. It was, wonderful that- he cared enough to take her, without question: that the “secret”' whose telliqg had hypnotised her childish soul through years of mental slavery was a thing of no account for him, if he had liar love. Rut since tho day when he had elaborately planned and accomplished her -rescue at- Richard Rhodes’, it had seemed to the girl that -adoration Was not too - great; to give- Whenever she looked at the blue pearl (the souvenir of that hour) waves of love went out frdm her heart to Michael, wherever he might be. That love—his for her, hers for him—hkc( killed the dragon Which had terrorised the city of Tier . soul. It had been only a “oroque- " mitaine,” after-all, as sbe could 1 wallsee now, in the new light which chased away the shadows; Because her father had told her that she wa9 irrevocably' cursed by fate, she had despaired. Fear: had been the tyrant, mid he ' lay dead. . ’

It Was like a dazzling fairy-Stofy that her “Aladdin” had Drought the whole cave of jewels, that whatever she might chance to take would be hers before oho touched it. She had take:, nothing; hut, Michael said, the jewels from Richard Rhodes’ were still hers, to do with as she would. Once, in hei strange fatal love, for such things, she would have wished to keep them, just for the joy of looking at and handling; their brilliant beauty. Michael himself would, have understood, that wish; and would even have sympathised wjth it. But in the hour of conquering the “curso,” Pearl felt that something in' her nature had mysteriously changed; There wan no room left there for outworn .idols and fetiches. Love for Michael- needed .all the space there was! ■She cared- for tho jewels he gave her, because he gave them; and it seemed to her that she had lost the -capacity even 'to..- • admire other.'. ' “Richard RhM-ss;’ (re named just at this time “O’DonovcU and Oompsiiy”) bought back, at ,a reduced prioo the stook of jewels which had) become Michael’s personal pro-' perty, and tho monev received ' was Pearl’s present from him, to give to the pop- if ska chose. . ' 'Tve turned over a new leaf,” ho

said. “You’re the one jewel worth having! I’ll sell all the silly things: I’ve been decorating myself with', Tike a walking Christmas tree, and you shall have that money, too, for your charity fund.” ,

' This was oh the eve of; their wedding, , which .was to take place in a small, country churqh. It was to' be the quietest wedding in the world, "and nobody had: been told of the date, or ’ asked to ( come, except one-or two old ; friends of Judge’Paget’s. Julian'Ferriet. however, ytas among the few who knew when and Where, Pearl Paget was Ao marry , Miohael, O’Dima Van. He had guessed that they would bhOdse a church’in some-nearby village and an agent of Kearney’s had, easily learned the place and date. Nows had been cabled more than once from Taggia, but on the morning of the marriage'Julian still lacked confirmation of, 4 he one fact which mattered to him;' He had arrived the night before.- at a small jnountain inn not far ■ off; in order to be on the spot when his great moment came,. as. it must come, he thought. Ho staked all on that, telling himselft that, if his fight -a&tinat Midbrael failed,' lifeS would no longer bo wdfth living. The marriage iduSt not bfe allowed to take place. Neither Pearl Aor Michael would be bound by conventionalities. He refused to. wait for a sight of his bride in her wedding dress’, until they met at tl)e altar. The, Pagete still kept on the “cottage”. belonging to thq big mountain hotel. Michael lived m tho, hotel; and half an hour hefore the time when Pearl and her father must leavd in their car 'for - the, church, Michael started to walk down through tho i woods to tho little vOrandahed, bunga- ; low. At tho meeting of two paths ho came in sight of a jftaii in grey tweeds, a tollish man whose hack looked' vaguely familiar; 'He was striding along in evident ha stfe, and thd f agete’ cottage could bo hi/ only goal. “Jdvel it’s Ferrier 1” . Michael said to himself. He was taller than Julian, and could, walk faster. In another, rnpmeiit he had caught up with the figutie in tweeds. “What is your business' here?” he asked harshly. ! . Ferrier turned with a start and faced him. “Oh, 't’s you, is it?” ho exclaimed. “My business is with your father-in-law elect. He’ll never be any nearer to you than ‘elect.’ -TYe, can walk on together if you like. I"ve no objection.” y “I-have. We’ll stop whore-we are, and you’ll tell me, what you mean.” ; Julian quailed slightfy, - in- spite of his' long pent up fury arid desire for, revenge Physically he was more than lever afraid of Michael, afraid of, his strength, and afraid of what the blazing blue eyes threatened. He had not expected to meet him Mono. “I’rti here to warn J Jude Paget in time that you’re not what you pretend to be—what no doubt you honestly think vou are. Y6ur tiue name is not 'o'D6uovan. It’s Thorpe. You can’t marry Pearl Paget, for you are her half brother;” ' Julian expected to see Michael bleilch, and shrink under a blow which would deal death to his hopes. But insteadr Michael Toughed a great laugh of angry scorn. "You fool!” he cried. “So that was the card you kept up j-our sleeve! It’s a blank card, for I have every proof of my identity. Do you suppose I’d go blundering through life, trying to build Up the. name of a than ,who wasn’t my own father? If this weren’t a saci-ed Hour fqr me, I’d thrash you till- you hadn’t a whole bone in your body, for this cowardly trick vou tried to play—the last in your bag of tricks 1 I thank God I met you. You might have given ’ Pearl or her i father a had moment, springing this nonsense on them. If you want to get r.woy with a whole skin, go, l and go quick.” > , , , , i The man went, knowing that lie bad failed again, for there was truth and cbmplete assurance in the other’s face. He left Michael to his 3acred hour, and the life’s happiness he had not beon c.bls to spoil. (The End.)