THE RETURN.

Oamaru Mail, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 11832, 18 January 1913, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE RETURN.

(!U- Jeffery Fariiol.)

ft had snowed all day long, with a -.!.,- vv:r.<i out of the east —a biting, in ' a dj a bullying wind that '""rtSti ; ""'' rumbled in the chimneys, ""'' l \ r :.'krtl under the caves, and. tore '•_' l.";j;.v and casement. But, in this fl-'Cr. •'■ *' le Cross Keys, all was -"'-ii;:k :iU ' l - comfort. A fire blazed .on ti;- 1 hearth: a jovial, loud-voiced, tire that filled the place with Cn :'!":iI>Ie glow, and set glass, and : rTl .^ e: ,. and pewter winking, and .'.": :; 'ici:;:■-'. and gleaming on wall and j. <, ;-\..1 to siiow the broad, Tubicund. '■'' l ,,t, ' r sSnell. the landlord,. and ,'T !.!;!'•!■: whiskers of George -the Car- -- ;;•- :'"\>' sat, side by side, each with glass at his elbow, and ,'i L purling thoughtfully at his long.',Klj:':,.'. pipe: it fell also, upon the -"ra:i-«' : "* s '*'"■-» booted legs, stretched "• ti- the hearth; and it was upon" "'.;? 1 •'! x le.-s. with their riding boots * !l ,1 . i'i sodden as by a hard jourj!._ v. ■■; !i and frayed as by harder y.-,-. tiiat the round eyes of Peter rjl. ■~< I '-'- T * le twinkling eyes pf George ""> ['i-rrii'r. had been fixed for some

\\i,y Stranger sat- in the darkest cor.f ~f tiii- great high-backed settle, ]l' a (,:» frowning gaze bent upon the !,, y. ;:iing"y lost hi a ; profound re-

\ji unsociable traveller, this—with j,,!:.',:: ng eyes, and a grand manj c i:t - t all keeping with his shabby -trw-"- Yes—a moody, morose trailer. '»'. hi-, spoke ;in monosyllables, who n !:. r > face always in the shadow, and }K & into the fire under black, frownr br-«'-.-•_ Therefore Peter Snell's iiollv smooth brow wore a pucker, as . round eyes wandered up from the fen. boots with their rusty spurs to j skirt of the frayed riding coat, IE ti;e threadbare hem to the beirise: ?''ilge of the pocket, and down' £•:. Thereupon honest Peter's brow 7r more thoughtful, and, having exlii a cloud of smoke and fanned it ■57 with a plump hand, he spoke: •j. oncommon bad ' nighfc for travel- :> sir!" he said, as the rain pattered issi the window-pane in a sudden :d gnn. • y es . r ' answered, the Stranger, still -ins irr '° tne re- ■' Anight as makes a man take kindly ffcinsMey corner, sir." " ■JW" said the Stranger, without Kiitn? Ids attitnde. Ee're Peter Snell paused to puff .at pipe, and to stare from the travel-' j* steaming boots to the fire, and £ again: which done, lie coughed heIHs plumphand. •Come far, sir?" he inquired. ; ■fo." 'Going far. sir?" - - • •Perhaps—yes," said- the Stranger. iking farther into the shadow. . ii! A bad night for travelling, sfir, asly night, a rainy night,- a black — ;h-b!ack night, a night as folk a; expect to meet ,wi' —things, like = Diggory Bat done." ■What- things?" demanded the Stran- , iritit disconcerting suddenness. Well —say —a goblirig, sir." 'A—what?" Peter means a apparition, sir," exiled George the Carrier obligingly. Cali it what yon ivrill," nodded the iiird, "call it a ghost or call it a iing: ah, or even a apparition. ■? Diggory Bat seen one this 'ere' it night as ever is—chough's 'e ed it a shade—the shade of a man is been dead—ah, an' buried ten ran' more; yes, a shade 'e called 5d Diggory Bat!" What of?" demanded the Stranger, iarply as before. TEe shade of him as was called the ied Revelstoke' in these ' parts, If sodden riding lx>ots were drawn iply up as the traveller Jeaned. snd-~ 7 toward the landlord, and, under frotnung brows, his eyes were more (imposing than ever. Whom do yon mean by the ' "Wicked Hstoke'?" '■ tord, sir. who should we mean hut Jasper—'im as 'alf killed 'is cousin, darks—up at the great 'ouse. 'lm 31 away the werry same night,.an' rcome bac-k. 'lm as died an' was jit in ftirrin' parts—Mr Jasper." &"' said the traveller' "■ slowly. ull at once he leaned back in the et aagin. "So he's^—dead—dead, ?' - kever was. sir; why, there be a spot up to 'im in the chnrch." Sacred to the mem'ry o' Jasner atoke. who departed th's life sirr the eight, seventeen hunner Wety. Pray for him!' " qiiot'ed i£ Carrier. ?tiy for him!" repeated the trayeliwly. "And how came this tablet * pirt up to the. memory of—the •A Revelstoke?" ifix, that were my lady's doing, &—what lady?" _ %Lady Revelstoke. o' course, sir; a pretty fuss Sir Charles made of » Diggory Bat told me—Diggory tein' 'ead gardener up at the i 'ouse. sir^—but. Lord love you! My jnst looked ,at Sir Charles wi' Kg. dark eyes, and —well —there be iiHet." S sodden riding boots had vanished i: indeed, the traveller seemed to ! sarunk farther into the shadow serer; only one lean, brown hand Sciown in the firelight, and as he fel that hand, Peter 'Snell saw it fc lecome a gripping, quivering

k sir." pursued George the Cartwisting Lis black whiskers and % his head solemnly at the fire, is" this 'ere very same identical feke as Diggory Bat seen the apof " lye," nodded the landlord, " 'bout smutes afore your horior come .in S& would make it about 'arf a ■ign. as wy> air George was a smokravivial like —'cording to custom —_ fa: yonder busts open an' Diggory' toffies in. 'is eyes a-staring in 'is like, 'is' air standing on end; Cops : isself on that there werry ris ere- was: an' there 'e ssts, aand a-staring to that degree I were forced' to pour .Targe's >o"" rum punch down 'is throat —' foftsh vourn were- jus* as 'andy, ••' ; added George the Carrier. &'." pursued the landlord, unheedie interruption, "not one word we g?E out o' Diggory Bat till feisbed. .Targe's rum "punch every ! ; sr. Then 'e gasps a bit, chokes •cr twice, an' ' Peter,' sez 'e, * I, sen a shade'.' 'e sez. 'Shadel' &ge. a-vririnn l, at 'is empty class. at kind o'° shade? Where? ■*-' Then Dicgory Bat goes on to iis as -,.•< coming along by the %>rd wnll. when —all atooncee —'e ie ghost, plain as ever was!" 3: fcera thi> traveller rose somewhat "<#? and stood. Ms hat low over 56. raring into the fire; also lie s «n tin his whip from the settle • a it had lain—a heavy whip with :s s-craoUn>kine lash, arid bow, as ?«. h 9 arew this lash through his '•sithas'.-w caressing gesture. * vou sir?'' inquired s Stell. his round eves roving over ?i-elkr\ shabbv person, again. 15.'-' for travelling, sir! But iSFro'm r, ne as don't mind a pitcn;Sfnt wi" wind and rain, or even . Here Peter Snell paused", for his •effis f-vo had become riveted upon wrist that showed brown in t he firelight—an nncom- ? powerfuL wrist, even for one so J *T«r: what ?" inquired the trai^arply. or say—a gobto mention a shade or ! answered the traveller. And ;*eword he- nodded, crossed to the i'ta ■» wns sone. i/ e *er ?nell sat verv still looking ;*? blaze with unwinking eyes—;>%Sscve the roar of the wind gusts, clatter of horse-hoofs in the ncr did he stir or lift- his 'i t saze unt!l tne clatter Drofe e sharp scallop that was quickly i c the rush and roar of the' ,!.%■ the landlord, very careV&Ved out his pioe noon the toe jjwt. and turned to look at the

4°:K Jarppi" said he suddenm ye see bis wrist?" v&, Lord no, Peter! What v../'. £s*• i" were, Jarge all fet ! Lor 'i- Peter-what with?" - it :, KIS, 5w what such marks mean,

j "Well, what do they menu, Peter?" "They means as that man 'as been chained, an' 'as rowed aboard oiie o' they French galleys. Jarge."

It was a bad night in truth —a black and -evil night, full of rain and wind—a rushing, inighty wind that howled away across the dreary countryside, that roared among the woods, and buffeted the traveller as he spurred upon his way, his head stooped low against the driving rain; for, despite wind, rain, and impenetrable gloom, he rode at the same wild pace, as one-well acquainted with his course. On he galloped under th e swaying branches of the trees that rocked and groaned unseen above him. sclashing through pools and puddles, blind with the lashing rain, deafened with the roar of the wind, yet spurring ever forward- until he came to a place where four roads met. And here, all at once, he checked his career, for, beneath the finger-post lieespied ''something that loomed darker than the night—a shapeless something that gradually resolved itself into a deserted chaise. Now, as the traveller gazed at this, a voice reached him—hoarse and loud above the tumult of the storm: "Be that you. my lord? Oho! Be that Lord Medhurst?" The traveller, startled, instinctively pulled the dripping hat yet lower upon his brow, and leaned from his saddle to stare at the dim figure that had appeared so suddenly from the loe of the chaise.

"Been a-waiting and a-watching for you: I have, here at the crossroads, -my lord, though I expected you'd ha' come from t'other direction, d'ye see, my lord. My lady, she left me 'ero to meet wi' you, to tell me 'ore to a-waiting for you -in th' old mill over Yonder. This way, my lord." So saying, the speaker advanced, took the traveller's rein, .and began to lead him up a narrow by-lane, talking volubly the while. "We lost a wheel in the ditch, d'ye see. my lord. And on sich a night, too!" fie continued. "The postilion rode back to Gpudhurst. But, seein' as 'oir th' old- mill were close by, my lady waited there; even a- tumble-down old mill's better than nothing on sich a night as this 'ere, my lord. An' 'erewe be.'' And the groom pointed to the dim outline of a building that rose before them, whence shone a- feeble light. Here the traveller dismounted; And now the storm seemed to increase in violence; the wind roared and raved about the dismal structure, the rain hissed spitefully, yet, about this din, he caught the words" 'oss," and 'stables," and next moment he was alone, groom

and horse had vanished. i"or a long moment he stood there, chin on breast as though oblivious of *he raging elements; then strode suddenly forward, and, finding the door, lifted the latch, and stood in the comparative quiet of the deserted mill. He ,wasin a bare, "dim chamber, empty save 'for himself, hut in one corner was a gaping dprway. and it "was through this that the light came, a soft-, yellow glow.

And with his eyes upon this, the. traveller paused again' and stood irI resolute-; but all at once the light was [partially hidden, as a figure appeared upon tbe threshold, silhouetted, against the light beliind —a woman's figure, shrouded in a long travelling cloak. But her hood had fallen back, and, though her face was in the shadow, there was the well-remembered! proud, high carriage of her head, and her hair, thick and abundant, shone in the light —a ruddy gold. "My lord," said she. "have you brought the letters?" For a moment the traveller was silent, then he spoke, but in such a voice as surely neither Peter Suell nor George the Carrier could have recognised. "Madam is I think," said

he. . 'Mistaken!" she exclaimed with a quick gasp. "Who are you, then ?" "A poor traveller." "A traveller?"

"Who has* sought shelter from the storm." *" . •

Again came the quick eatcli in her breath, and the uplift of the dimpled chin. So they stood a while, silent and 1 litterlv still. And he, well knowing where" sire looked, bent his head, and fell to drawing the lash of his whip through his fingers with the gesture that- wasrso "like a"caress. He heard her breath escape in a long, quivering sigh. Then she spoke: "Have you come far, sir?" "Yes, madam." ■"You are cold—wet?" ''Yes, nYadam." "Then sir, this place is as free to vou as to me, and my servant has found the wherewithal to make" a fire. Come in and warm you —if you will." Again the. traveller hesitated, then, bowing low, entered. It was a small, bare chamber, and was lighted by the lanthorns of the chaise. The lady stood half turned away from him, looking down at the blaze; "but, nevertheless, there was about her an air of expectancy, and. it seemed, some stronger emotion which, though repressed, was manifest in the trembling of the white hand half hidden in the folds of her cloak. All at once she started and turned, for the traveller had taken up the lanthorns and set them on the ledge in the angle of the window, where they could be seen from the road. "Sir." said she, and the trembling hnd. somehow, got into her voice, "sir, whv <lo vou do that?" '"Their,. glare hurt my eyes, madam." . "Ah! And is that—is that why you —still wear your, hat?" "Yes. madam," answered the traveller standing on the opposite side of the hearth, but wi'h his face in the shadow of the mantel. "Sir," said alter a silence, l am glad vou camo." . At this she- saw the strong brown bond clench itself uuon the whip he held. But the traveller's voice was wholjv unchanged when he spoke: li "Vvhv so. madam?" ~..,, "Becanse. while I waited here, I nave been —greatlv afraid!"

"Of "What?" ■■'■-.. "Of him I —came to meet. "Then —whv mee,t him?" . "Because he has letters, to gam which I would venture much—letters which might clear the name of one who is — thought to be—dead." The traveller kicked "a faggot into place with the toe of his boot. "And what is the name of this—dead

man?" "Jasper Eevelstoke. "Who died." said the traveller, nodding at the lire, "on the eighth of January seventeen hundred and ninety. there fell a silence, wherein, though he kept his head averted he nevertheless felt the intensity of her «raze;'a silence that, as the moments passed, he found but the more irksome, so that at last needs must he turn to look at her. . , She stood within a yard of him, her white hands clasped upon her bosom, her vivid, lips-apart, her eyes wide and daxk. , ~ "Jasper!" The word was a whisper, I "Oh Jasper!" she breathed. . . r | "Again, madam, you mistake, l think," said he. .: ».«,.„! "No no!" sheened. "\on.are here!4fter all these years you are alive, Jasp-r' Ah. never think to deceive me! I knew you from the"firs£-even in the shadow out there. I should know von among ten thousand,. Jasper! r ' There was supplication in her voice, and before the mute appeal of her look his own wavered and fell. "God has been merciful and' heard mv prayers," she went on in the same suppressed tone. "He has sent you back to me, that I might tell you I know the truth—at Inst.' "I reioice to hear it, madam. But yet, can that alter the past? Can it orino- back: the bitter years? Can, it blot "out the degradation othe" rowing bench, the biting shame of the l»sh, the horrors of slavery?" ~ -''Slavery! Oh, Jasper! .T never lift the fallen honor of the •Wicked Revelstoke'?" T „ "Yes. Jasper, yes! Indeed 1— — '.'Never, madam, for Jasper Kevelstoke is surelv dead. I, who stand heie before you. am only/ If ™. ! shost come back to fulfil the Kfve'goke'motto, 1 will repay ' Ymi should know it well, my lady of Herelstoto. •Too well, ah, too well! Oh, Jfsper, T tell you it has been the curse of your from generation to generation, offing 6nly Woodshed and disaster, for vengeance belongs only to God. "So am. I an instrument of God. I tell von, madam, my noble cousin s w re _I tell you Thave prayed for. this hour, dreamed of it.'lived" through torments

unseakable for it. To-night L.am come to pay—my debts." "Do you mean —ah, Jasper—do you mean- 1 you have prayed, dreamed, lived —onlv for revenge?" . "Call it, rather, retribution, my Lady Revelstoke." "And you have come hack —only for this?" ' "For this, yes, madam. Can the world hold aught beside for me?" "Indeed—indeed, it might. Oh.. Jasper 1 Look at me —look at me, and —know. Dear Jasper, I, too, have prayed, and, dreamed, and lived " "Hush, madam," said the traveller, turning suddenly. "The light has served its purpose; my Lord Medhurst is here, I think—listen!" And he stepped into the shadow behind the door, and leaned there, as an imperative knocking was heard. Next moment the outer door swung open' with a rush of wind and rain, was closed, heavy steps approached, and the newcomer halted upon the threshold. He was a tall gentleman, this new comer, and bore himself with a masterful air; a fashionable gentleman also, for his dripping hat was brave with gold lace, and his riding coat rich with embroidery. For a" moment he stood blinking in the light of the lanthorns, then uttered a polite oath of rapturous surprise, and flourished off his hat with a sweeping how.. . "Egad, either I'm bewitched, or I behold the adorable Helen, herself! Now I vow and protest, 1 swear upon my

soul, Venus hath been kind to me, for 1 was —lost in a howling tempest; I see a light—struggle towards it, and find — not only warmth and shelter, hut her who is the end and aim of my— ——" "Have you the letters, my lord?" she demanded, very proud and high. His lordship smiled and obeyed her with a lingering look, before which her own glance fell and the color flamed in her cheek, but lie smiled still as he answered: •

"Yes. Ah, yes. I have them, my lady, but ——" "Then, sir, I beg——" "Nay, nay, do not hurry me. 'Tis warru; and snug, we should. he very

comfortable here, and we have the night before us. Indeed, there is no cause for hurry, dearest lady." As he spoke, he shook the rain from his hat, laid' it upon the mantelshelf, and proceeded to draw off.his heavy.nding coat, all with certain leisurely assurance, and with a smile ever present upon his lips—the smile of one who is master of the situation. "My lord, if you have the letters—" "The letters, dear madam—to he sure —behold them!"

And, speaking, lie took a packet from his bosom and held it up before her eyes.

"There they are, and shall be yours for—a consideration. But, patience, Helen, patience I'/ ■ " "Sir, this is no'time for patience. Indeed, 1 heg——-" "Beg, Helen, and —to me? Your humblest and most devoted slave? Beg? Command me, rather!" _ "My lord, you agreed to meet me at the Cross Keys to-night that I might buy these letters."

"But, madam. Indeed, no. We wii! make you an exchange. '• You want these letters—though- why, I cannot understand; the fool's dead, they can benefit neither him nor you—still, vou want them!"

I will purchase them even though it cost me all the money T possess." said she, her voice low and eager.: "Money—oh, gad I protest! Money? No, no, a thousand times! We will, *as I say. make an exchange. I will give you these scraps of crumpled paper, and you shall yield me an armful of warm loveliness in return. What! would you play the prude, and—here? Come ! —come, I say!"

And he took a swift, stealthy step towards her. But she eluded his chitciiing hands; and in that moment my Lord Medhurst was caught in a powerful grip, was twisted round, and forced to took into a lean, brown face—a face with a mouth grimly set, and eyes that glowed, with merciless intent, before which his lordship recoiled, his ruddy Cheek grown pale, his jaw s agape. . . "My lord of Medhurst," said the traveller gently, "ten years ago vou u-M-e .concerned, together with oiks Charles Revelstoke, afterward baronet and husband to this lady, in the nun of a certain wretched yoiith. You, together, having strippcd/"hinV of ever\v thing but his honor, ravished from him even that, making him the scapegoat for your own villainies. He challenged you each in turn, was wounded by a coward's hand, was carried helpless aboard ship, and was sold into slavery, leaving his cousins free to claim his heritage. Ah, you remember somc.thitig of the incident, I see." ' "Revelstoke!" exclaimed his lordship, in a whisper. "But lie's deadhe's dead."

"So I've heard," answered the traveller. "I am but Ins ghosc, my. Lord Medhurst, come" back to -fulfil the 'motto- of his house—you know what that is. my lord!" As he spoke the traveljer smiled, and put back-the skirt of his'coat from the hilt of his small sword with a gesture full of significance. "To-night I mean to settle, my debts once and for all, both with you and Sir Charles—ah, yes, 'I will repay!' And vou first, mv lord, vou first!"

But noiv, as lie ended, while they yet stared upon each other, the one smiling, the other pallid, • rigid, and motionless, the woman stood between them. "Go, my lord, go," she cried, pointing to the door, "and you, Jasper, oh, I do beseech you. Ah!" A sudden oath, the quick stamp of a foot, the gleam of darting steel beneath her arm, and, even as she screamed a warning, the traveller reeled backward to the wall, one hand pressed to his wound, recovered himself, and, unsheathing his small sword, sprang past her after his assailant out into the raging tumult of the storm.

v Slipping in mud, stumbling over unseen obstacles, the traveller ran on, his wild eyes striving to pierce the gloom in search of his foe; panting for breath, faint with his hurt, yet resolute, indomitable, upborn by the fierce hate that glowed within him. Thorns dragged at him, twigs lashed at him, hands seemed to clutch at him from the dark, but' on he staggered, his breath coming in gasps, and the smart of ~ his wound growing ever more intense, until, out of the void, something seemed to leap to meet him; fire flamed before hinij and he fell and lay there.' When he opened his eyes, ithe storm had abated, a wateTy moon peeped, down from ia rift ,in the flying cloud wreck, and, by this feeble light, he saw that he Jay at the foot of a wall—an. ancient wall hoary with moss and lichen. And, looking upon this wall, in a while the traveller rose, and a smile was upon his lips. "Surely," said he, aloud, "surely fate, has "guided me, after all. Though the lesser f ogne escapes roe, the greater remains."

And bo, with much iado, he made shift to climb over the wall, groaning because of Jiis hurt. And, standing there among the trees, he thrust hie land into iis bulging pocket, and took thenpe the weapon, and, holding it .where.the moonbea-nis fell, he exainined -the flint and took careful heed to the priming, and so, with it grasped in his hand, set off among itlie trees. Soon lie beheld a great house , looming .dark i|nder_- the moon, with never a light from attic to cellar. But he strode on, sure-footed, as one in a. familiar iplace; past marble, fawns uind saityrs, gleaming ghostlike amid the leaves in the half light, and so, turning an angle of the house, paused all at once, for there one of the manj- windows shone with a bright light; therefore, he approached this window with cautious tread, and pre? sentry looked into the room. A long, oak-pauelled room it was, warm wStlh fireglow and lighted by oandles that stood /upon a- small table, twinkling upon glass and silver where » dainty meal was set, . But the traveller's- gaze was fixed upon the great, high-backed: oliaiir drawn up to the hearth. Some one was sitting in tin's chair—he could .see the curve of a shoulder, and the skirts of a man's coat, a handsome garment of embroidered satin. So. with his glance upon these betraying folds, the travellor took out' a knife, and /began very cautiously to fumble at the casemenffc, and thus he saw that the ihasD was unfastened, and, the lattice yieldins to his. hand he set it wide, and, with = his gaze bent ever upon'tSe skirts of the .embroidered r coat/ ; stepped softly into, the room, closed tne.wihdqwy and stood waiting- pistol ja i :

Bui tlie' occupant of the "gteat chair ' neVer'sq-much-as stirred. The traveller held his breath, listening intently, but no sound came to him save the crackle of the logs .upon the Hearth, and the soft, deliberate ticking of the dock :irt the comer. Therefore, at' last, with: stealthy, tread, he,crossed the room until he.could look down upon !the sleeper, and so'found 'himself staring into the wide eyes of the Lady Helen. "I've been, waiting for you, Jasper,"; she said, very quietly. "Waiting?" "Oh —I knew you'd come. That was why I left the window Ainlatohed." "An do you know—why I am here?" "Yes, Jasper—you carry the reason in your hand," ,and she pointed a trembling finger to the pistol lie held,and laughed, sudden and nigh, covering her face with her hands.. "Oh, Jasper!" she cried, with a- great choking sob.' "If you must kill somebody to-' iiigli!:, 1 meant it should be me. That was Why I put on —his'coat'. But when 1 heard you • open the window—when, you entered the room and stood so still, 1 thought you were going; .to. —shoot me then, and I—nearly.screamed.". "So then—you think it is—murder I came for?" "What else, Jasper?" "A murder!" exclaimed the traveller, his hsad slinking. "To shooit a man in his sleep! Did vou think—this of me?" .'..'. •' . ..■ '■.:'; :'

"Yes,": she said, though with her head averted, for .tears were in her eves. "Well, why not?" he sighed. "I am. the 'Wicked ltevelstoko.' " His voice was low and hoarse, and he set one hand : upon tho tabic, as though to steady himself; for.reaction had come. ■But.now," finding him".silent, .she looked tip at him sideways beneath her laslies —-saw him rent, and torn, and splashed with mud, and she sighed; noted' the ghastly pallor of his cheek, and how his head hung, and her tears fell; saw his hand, that gripped the table edge, and sprang to her feet with a cry of pity. "You are- bleeding!" "A .little—yes."/ "Then —lie did—wound you?" "Yes." '.'Ah! Let me look!" "No, no," cried the traveller bitterly. "You think me .a murderer—like Med- ! hurst-! Stand awaj-.!'-"Oh, Jasper!" • . "Let me speak! Now hark you, my Lady Revelstoke—here was the way ot it. Your husband was a. rogue—ever and always. We were to have fought—ten. years ago, in this very room —he in that, corner, I yonder. The pistols lay here, upon this table, where Medhurst had laid them ; he took his, arid I mine. But as I turned to take my ground, lie—your husband —shot me. So to-night I am come hero to claim my shot —the'.shot I never had. Thus, madam, I ask you where is my cousin— Sir Charles?"'

"Jasper, you are faint!" "A little weary—nothing more." And sighing, he turned toward the door, walking slow and unsteady. Before he could reach it —she had set her back against it. "Where are you going?'" "To find your husband." "You would—kill him?" "I. seek only to —claim my. shot, madam." "You would kill him—kill him!"

"Kill him? Indeed, I.hope so. Kill him —yes!" cried the traveller, in sudden wild fury, his stern repression swept away. "Kill him —yes —a thousand 'times yes! As he tried to kill me ten years ago! This man who stole from me my honor and all that made life worthy. Kill him? I pray to Heaven it may be so!'-'

"Ah, Jasper!" she cried. "You-wore always brave. Bo noble also, forgivo the evil. It is past and done with. Oh, forgive, Jasper, forgive!" "Forgive!" he cried. "And what of my shattered hopes, my ruined life, my years of anguish, my blackened name? Woman, stand from the door—stand back, I say!"

"Jasper," slip cried despairingly, and. sinking to her knees', -she caught '.'lie hand that held the pistol, drew it to lier breast, and held it there; • "Dear Jasper," you loved rhe—^hce." "Yes—and lie—ravished you from ;..»»e-. with- his devilish wiles and'.'Mack lies." By' Jove, for that alone I'd kill him! Loose my hand!" - "Never. Jasper! You loved me once. I've loved you always! Ah, yes, always, Jasper! See, see, I kneel to you, pray to you " "To save —his life!". "To save youtfrom yourself, Jasper. This hand must not, shall not, be stained by murder. See, see! Thus, and thus I kiss it! Oh, Jasper, be merciful, for my sake! Forgive, forgive!" The powerful hand grew lax beneath her lips, the gripping fingers loosed their hold, and she laid the heavy weapon be'side her on the floor. Then, as one in a dream, the traveller looked about- him, and down at the glowing beauty of her who yet knelt at his feet. . "Oh, woman!" he groaned. "I give his life to you, for the sakeof what mitrht have* been ten years ago." Then he drew liis hand from her warm clasp, and crossed unsteadily to the window. But when ho would have opened the lattice,'her hand stayed him. ,"Jasper," she said, her eyes drooping, "where are you going?" "Anywhere—my life is done. "Nay, Jasper. 'Tis but beginning. Indeed, you cannot go. Your place is "Here!" lie cried. "What! Will you mock me?" "No, Jasper." "Why—what do you mean.-* "I mean that your cousin, bir Charles, is dead." The traveller fell back, starm S at her dumbly. T „ „ "He died fiv c vears ago, Jasper. The traveller 'raised his hands, and clashed them about his tc ™P les ; (T . fl , "Dead'" he stammered. J J eau - But you—you—why do-you plead toi a dead man ?" . . "To prove that one Revelstoke is a m-m—genCTons enough, bravo enough to forgive, moble enough to,forego -ven-gennee--even for so great a -wrong. "Dead!" whispered "the traveller. "Dead!" , ', , -„ Q Aud -now she saw that his hands Trere shaking all at once. . , "And. Ja'soer. although I. married him. T found him out—in time, Jasper " The trembling hands came out to her. and slowly drew her nearer And fo I nrnved for vou. Jasper, night ana uavfpraved that Heaven might send roii hack to me some day —because * The traveller's voice was hoarse ana low like his hands, trembling. "Because —oh, Helen '.—because i "Because I loved you, and because—if you hadnever come back to me, then needs must I—die a maid, Jasper.