HANDSOME NED'S DAUGHTER.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 15350, 13 January 1912, Page 2

HANDSOME NED'S DAUGHTER.

(All Rights H«6ervcd.)

Bv Rita Richmond. Author of "Thp Dead Man's Hand," "Which is Heiress?" "Knight or Knave." " The Honour of the Uefiboroughß," etc, etc. CHAPTER XXVf.-THE RIFLED JEWEL CASK. "Wait, then! Wait till we conio to the station'!'" urged .Montacutc anxiously. "It isn't any use." "It is of use! 1 will go back if it kills me!" cried Dorothy, piimioiiatcly' [msiiing him violently aside. " J will toil Silvcrlon and—" Suddenly as she spoke, a terrible thing happened, that froze the words on her lijis and caused the two iigumi in the carnage to reel helplessly against the racks ami to clutch wildly at «ich other for Mi|i|'.i>rt. 'J'he walls of the compartment swniud to bulge hideously out upon them, IJtii Jump glass fell shattered at thoirfeet, and with a rending, trashing noise the whole world seemed lo Dorothy to go out in a dreadful blackness. In ono of the large, handsomely-fur-nished bedrooms of l<>rndcno Court Sir Anthony Harrington lay among the pillows oi the inastiivii silk-curtained bed upon which his grandfather, and mapiiap his great-grandfather, liad lain «i their day. Jlis'iaco no longer wore tho delicato tint of weakness, lu's eyes were bright with returning health, and his voice had assumed the stronger, firmer tones of restored nudity and energy. lint them was a bewildered look on the handsome old face as Sir Anthony looked out upon the two other faces at his bedside. •'Gone!" ho repeated, turning his eyes anxiously from one to tho other. "lon cannot mean it surely? What reason could she [xissibly havo for such a proceeding?" Kor u moment Edith Bellamy hesitated as she stood looking down upon him, and Lndy Bellamy touched her arm lightly. " Don't lei! him, Edith, bo suddenly. Ho is not strong enough," she whispered nervously. But Sir Anthony's quick car had caught the whisper, and he glanced from Edith to his daughter suspiciously. " There is a mystery !" he said quickly. " I/et mo know at once what you aro keeping from me." "Thnri! k a mystery, dchr grandfather," replied Edith gravely, sinking down gracofiilly upon her kiiccs at his bedside. "A mystery that it may- pain you to hear explained-—" "Pain or no pain, tell mo all," commanded the old man imperiously "Then, dear grandfather, thiol: for a. moment! You must have, noticed, as well as we have done, the extraordinary likciiryvs this airl bore U> your own family. Von must nave wondered—you most guefs now." Edith paused a moment, struck into silonce by the anguished look that Unshed over tlio white old face as. convulsively clutching the 'bfldclnthrs in his thin lingers, he suddenly leant forward, his eyes blazing into hers, and gasped hoarsely: " The girl is—is—" " Ymir son Edward's daughter," eaid Edith in a low tone, half afraid now at what she had done, whilo Lady Bellamy after a hurried glance at her father's face, sank trembling into a chair out. of sight, and covered her face with her hands; She heTsclf had refused to inform her father of tlio discovery which Edith had divulged to herself. Never, since the day of Edward Harrington's banishment, had his name beon mentioned to his father, and wli.it the effect of Edith's referring to him now might he Lady Bellamy feared to guess. Tho old man had 6iink back on his pillow again, with a faco ghastly in its pallor. "Ned's daui'hter!" ho muttered, staring dazedly before him. " Ned's daughter!". , ,'_. He asked no proof, lie": knew. All was explained now indeed of that strange intercut in and affection for this young girl, which had puzzled even hiniKilf to Iccl, Explained now was tho strango haunting likeness in Dorothy's beautiful face. Eyes like those of his banished son had looked into his, and stolen his affections, all unwittingly to himself or reason for it. A voice strango to him, yet echoing the very tones of his bod's voice, had awakened and thrilled in the sad old lieart chords that no other could • vibrate, for how dearly! how passionately Sir Anthony had loved that ditsgractvj and worthless son of his none but he had guessed. How bitterly he had mourned the [banishment he had himself, decreed, none but himself had known. The shock which tho death of that son—and Sir Anthony had known of his death only •through tho columns of the newspapers—Hie shock liad been a terrible one to him; And now Ned's daughter—how blrange it seemed?—Xc<l's daughter had come to fill the ajhing void in the old man's heart. Little indeed did Edith Bellamy guess how far short her revengeful plot was to fall of its purpose. Little did she guess that of the righteous indignation she had hoped to raise against Dorothy in lier grandfather's mind, there was not leiudled a spark. If visiting the son's transgression on'his innocent-daughter's head Sir Anthony had', not an'idea. lie was indeed now, as ho lay staring bewildcrodly before him, thinking how ho might most quickly bring Dorothy to his side again, and his next words filled both Edith mid Lady Bellamy with startled amaze and indignation. " She must he brought back immediately," he said suddenly and eagerly, rousing out of his reverie all •at once. " Ned's daughter! Sho must be found ! We must spare no trouble or expense in finding her. Poor, poor girl, what can he the reason of her flight ? She has always been treated kindly surely. There is no nwoii that you know of why slic.6hould leave us?" he asked anxiously. Edith Bell.iiny knelt by his bedside looking at him incrediiously. That he should have taken her news in such a manner astonished her with an angry astonishment. Indignation, contempt of Dorothy'sproreeding, she had expected, and now to iictr only this anxious .solicitude and long, inre for this deceitful girl's return to his house.

Ilor intention to tell her grandfather that lior own discovery of Dorothy's identity had led to her guilty flight was suddenly checked. ' To tell him thai would only excite, his pity still farther, and probabiy incenso him against herself. No! Theiu was another reason ,sho might, insinuate for Dorothy's disappearance--,-.' mason that would serve her purpose, well. . " She had her own reasons for leaving us so secretly," Edith now replied to her grandfather sullenly as sbo r.w: from he.r knees. " I'orhaps time will acquaint 121 with thorn." " I hopi) boforo much time uhc oLi'iwd to have her with 11s again," said Sir Anthony quickly eyeing his grr.nd(liiuglitcr'a dark, ooid faco eutnewhat displeasedly. "This girl is my granddausbter as truly as vou are, remember, With." " I did not think you would havo cared so much to acknowledge hor as such," returned Kdith, with an irreprcss:'nk>sneer, which made her plain face, positively ugly. The old man's face fltwhcd with anger, whilo a low, nervous protect of "Edith! Edith!" name from Lady Bellamy. " You siippnso that 1 should visit tho transgression of bcr father upon this innocent young girl's head," paid Sir Anthony slowly. " You are mistaken, then, The girl is dear lo mc, she shall bo dearer yet; the girl shall not ynfTcr for her father's sin," he added, with a (lash of his keen bright eyes. " She may for her ow<n "though,"! muttered Edith darkly. " What could be the reason for her flight?" "Yon suspect her of something?" said Sir Anthony frowning. "What is it? f command you, Edith, to speak out those suspicions. You suspect a reason for her (light. What is it-?" He paused agitatedly, and waited for her to speak, but Edith hesitated, dropping hor groat dark "eyes, and simulating a reluctance- to voice those suspicions that she, in no wise felt, ami it w.13 in a low dejirecaling tone she at last obeyed her grandfather's command. " I know you will be angry with mc, dear grandfatlior," she said sadly and reluctantly, " but you demand it, ttarcforc I must tell yon what has indeed crowed my mind as reason for this girl's extraordinary flight. You remember that night of your accident?" Sir Anthony nodded quickly, his eyes fixed piercingly upon Edith's face. "You do not remember, however, perhaps, that your granddaughter, Dorothy liarrington, was alouo in your writing room with you for a short time whilo you were, unconscious?" She paused again. Into.Sir Anthony's eyes had leapt ;i sudden fear. Ho remembered the fact well, but he gavo no assent lo it, awl Edith continued. " You must forgive me, then, grandfather! but the wonder has since then crossed my mind if—if—your jowcl case was perfectly safe—" ."Stop!" commanded tho old niaJi, his eyes blazing upon her as ho sat suddenly upright in bed. " You dare, to accuse her ot such a thing! You daro to uisinualo that this-was tho reason of her llight?" Ho was trembling all over with deep and righteous anger; his very voice shook. "It was only a thought,'' said Edith hurriedly, " only a pausing thought among others tuat occurred to mo to account for her disappearance. Forgive me,' dear grandfather. You yo'ursclt know that the jewels arc perfectly salo, and how.wrong 1 was to cherish that idea for an instant. "The jewels are safe," said Sir Anthony storidy, " though 1 havo not lookid upon them since that night. 1 will swear they are safe. I will answer for it." "Surely, surely," put in Lady Bellamy suddfiidy from "nor hiding place at the loot of the bed. " Editn, 1 wonder at you suggesting such a thing,' she added m a shocked voice. " Nevertheless, to prove it is almost as easy as to nay it," continued Sir Anthony, looking with half-angry, half-contemptu-ous eyes at his graiiuaaugliter,- " bring mo the jewel case from the safe, Edith.'' " Grandfather, 1 beg you to think no more of my wicked thought," implored Edith, in apparent diotrrta; " I am sure that you are right. It was against my will ] spoke, and doubtless there arootlier good reasons lor hor disappearance that we shall soon discover." "Bring the case!" said Sir' Anthony poremptorily, handing her tho key of the safo. "She shall not lie under suspicion for a moment longer; arid you, Edith, shall apologise for your unworthy suspicion of your cousin immediately.'■'. if the furious glance that his granddaughter suddenly darted at him from under her dark brows had been perceived by Sir Anthony, it might have given him a better insight into Edith Bellamy's nature than he Lid ever had before. But he was looking towards the safe. a»s he spke, and the glance- escaped him. Taking the key from his hand, Edith went slowly towards the curtained portion o c the room which hid tho safe. Sir Anthony had had it removed from his writing room here to his bedroom. In a second or two she returned to tho bedside, and laid the jowel casket in front of Sir Anthony, who seized it eagerly and turned its key immediately. Lady Bellamy had drawn close to the bedside wit»; Edith, curiously watching the proceedings, and neither of the two oldier people saw the grim and angry fniilc on Edith's face a 6 sho eyed tho casket. " There ! you see, everything in order!" cried Sir Anthony, triumphantly throwing open drawer aftor drawer and lifting shelf after shelf. "There is not a single jewel missing." As he spoke he thrust his fingers almost carelessly into the compartment whero ho had used to keep some Jittle trinkets of especial value—and then suddenly Sir Anthony's face, 60 triumphant, tho moment" boforo, changed suddonly with a horrified astonishment. .. The compartment was empty! For a moment he sat still, gazing into the casket, dumbly—immovably, then a hoarse, inarticulate exclamation burst from his lips. "What is H?" cried the two women quickly, one of tho two in real alarm, the other in feigned. " What has happened ?" "Gone!" gasped Sir Anthony, falling back heavily upon his pillows with a fn.ee as white as the snowy slide about him. " Gcjio!"—there has been a thief at work!" " A thief! Then you have lost something 'i* 1 exclaimed Lady liellamy anxiously. " Someone has been into tho casket— someone has stolen my key," Sir Anthony gasped with dry lips. "Hlll nobody could steal the.key! You wear it always round your neck, dear grandfather," protested Edith quickly. " And no stranger has boon near you nis'hl or day," "True! True!" said the old man, Im>wilderedly staring at her. "The only time," continued F.dith. musing as it were in a- puzzled way to herseli, "the only time you were left alone was that time you were unconscious. You remember, mother, we both wont out--" She stopped short with a sudden remembrance evidently of her grandfathers anger at her suggestion of a few ninmentc ago. ." And no one was left with mo?" said Sir Anthony eagerly. There was a little pause of silence, whilo the old man glared with staring eyes and heaving breast at his grand-daughter. Then Edith ppoke slowly in a low. reluctant voice. " No one," she said, and dropped her heavy lids to hide the gleaming malice in her eyes; " no one—that is, of course, except your grand-daughter, Dorothy Barrington." CHAPTER XXVII.-SILVERTOX TO THE RESCUE. " And 1 do not belicvo a single word of it," slid Gerald Silverton quietly, fan. ping in hU agitated pacing of Sir Anthony's room, and looking with steady eyes into the pallid and distressed oid fate upon the bed. He had just listened to the story of Dorothy's flight and the miserable discover}- of the stolen jewels which Kdith had made evident as reason for tlut flight. With what a shock the story had burst upon him only lie himself couid know Kor tho last 10 days Silverton had been in Lor.don on business, and. utterly ignorant of ail that had happened in hi; absence, he had returned to Fontdene on the first opportunity after his reaching home. Many times after long absences had Silvcrwa returned to Fercdene, but never,

strangely enough, had ho 'Listened thorn with such eager footsteps as after this 10 days' absence, Never had Fermkmo seemed so d«ir and homcliko to him, never bail it seemed to hold such a. place in hi-, thoughts, ami now SilverUm had begun to realise why this, was so. Mot suddenly with this shook of Dorothy's (light, ho know than why Forndree had indeed become to dear to him, knew why he had boon fio eager t» return, knew whose face it was he had mnX longed to (!02 there. It was not S : r Anthony's, dear as his old friend was to Silverton—it was tho faro of this girl who had fled from the Ihiu.«o so mysteriously, and under what shadow of disgrace who conld Bay. Tho shock of her (light was a torriblo ono lo Silverton. Only now did ho realise how unconsciously h<: had boon picturing lib meeting with her again. He had boon picturing how she would reeeivo tin: news that another lx>ok of his had been even more succcmfiil than his last.; ho had visioned a fair, sweet face, with giad eyes, looking into his as he told his news to her alone, and. tho thought had been in his heart all the way from London. And now Fcrndcno'warned left to him dcvr-ulato. There wore no glad eyes to welcome him ami Tojniee with him—there war, only this dreadful talc of mystery, an;! appearance, of guilt to meet liiin on his return. Sir Anthony had told him all. The facts of his son's disgrace and disinheritance, the fact of Dorothy's identity, all had rushed out in the agitation of tho oid man's grief. Terrible as tho shock of it was to Silvcrton, it opened his eyes lo tho truth he had been so long unconsciously hiding from himself. He loved this girl! Had Jovcd her surely from the first moment her eye* had looked into his. Ho loved her now wilh a sudden force and passion whiclf the imputation of her guilt eeomed strangely enough to have called into being. This was the revelation which had flashed upon him even as lie listened to tho dreadful reasonableness of the evidence against her. " And I <lo not belicvo a single word of it." he said firmly, when Sir Anthony had finished the miserable story. At Gerald Silvorlon's indignant refusal to believe that Dorothy had stolen the jewels; Sir Anthony Harrington's sad and anxious eyes brightened. "That war, what 1 said myself, dear boy;.but liow— how are we to account-for her disappearance. I have advertised for her, hoggine her to return and explain, assuring' hmthat if there was aught to forgive it should be forgiven, yet there lias been no reply all these days." " Did you mention the loss of th* jewels?" said Silverton' quickly. ".I'did, hoping that whatever othe* reason she might have for flight sho would surely return to vindicate herself from such an imputation;.. yet nothing," said the ol<l man sadiy, '• nothing comes of it." "Thorn is a good reason—there be—for her silence,"* said Silverton fiercely, resuming his agitated walk again, "and 1 tell yen, Sir Anthony, I shall never rest till I prove it." " You are anxious, Gerald, I .can see as I am. Tell me, dear boy, is it pr« sible that-this girl is as dear to you as she is to m«?" said Sir Anthonv, sud uVnly .iii:l stirprimlly, tho thought striking him for the first time. Silverton's handsome face flushed ; but he turned it towards Sir Anthony straight*}'. " It U possible," ho said firmly; "and oven dearer. She may be your granddaughter, Sir Anthony, but 6ho is the girl who will one day be "my wife, if by any mowia she will have mo for a husband. There!" ho added, with a boyish, halfashamed laugh. " the murder is out. I would have told you this before, but that 1 only knew it myself now." "Silverton," exclaimed Sir Anthony, eagerly lifting himself upon his elbow and looking at tho young man affectionately, " this would have been my dearest wioh—but, for her father's disgrace. 1 ' A spasm of pain coursed the old man' 6 face. " Your name. Silverton, is now one more unblemished than ours; can yon think to join it with one—"

"Sir Anthony!" inl«T«p*ied Silverton quickly; "(lay no more, Dorothy's father's traiisgrcfißioii is nothing lo mc, His story shall be buried deep in my heart; and as for this mystery about Dorothy hcr&oli, why, ivo shall toon clear that up," he added boidiy. " and now, if you plcsGO, will you let m-; so> tho rifled casket?" "Certainly! Certainly! Here is tho box. It has never left me since the discovery. Take it, dear boy, and examine it yourself; bnt alas! ;ilas!" the old man shook his head sadly as Silverton threw opsn the lid of the casket eagerly and commenced a careful search , among the drawers and shelves. His hopo I was ihat tho jcwols might have slipped ; into a corner of tlio silken lining mayhap, j or got accidentally miicd with the other i jeweifi, and thus been passed over in a i former search, therefore ho was patient and careful in his investigation of the casket's contents Two or three times over ho searched each tiny compartment and drawer, and as ho lifted out the lowest layer in tho box something peculiar caught his eye. Something that had evidently stock in the bottom of the silk-lined layer, and now dropped down by chance into the r.isket. Silverton picked it up and eyed it puzzled'}- for a moment. He had never seen the tiling before in Sir Anthony's collection. "Js this something new?" he asked, looking up at the old man wondering'}'. "It looks too modern for a place among the rent. Sec!" And Silverton held up a tiny gold lace, pin jewelled in pearls and diamonds before Sir Anthony's eyes. " That! Of course" it doesn't belong! You got it—Where?" said tho old man quickly. • " Bottom of the box ! Stay, it has her initials among the jewels—K.lJ. Is it?" "E. I!.—you say the letters arc E. H.— said Sir Anthony, stretching out his hand for the pm. "Then it belongs to Edith. 1 gavo her two Mich on her last birthday." "And how has she dropped it here, I wonder?" said Silverton, evidently puzzled by his discover}'. Sir Anthony, who had sat' gazing a moment in silence at the trinkot in his palm, suddenly looked up at Silverton with a slrango. horrified, almost terrified expression in his cyc3. " Silverton," he said hoarsely, after a pause of dead silence, during which tho two men stared at each other, dumbly, increduously. "Silverton, Edith hius been looking for this trinket vainly, she says, since—since—" He stopped, choked and trembling with emotion. "Since?" repeated Silverton, brealh-Ica-Jy devouring tho old man's faco with [his eyes. "Sir Anthony, you must say. it! iicmember Dorothy is your granddaughter, 100. She shall be vindicated at all casts. -..,Yes, at all.,cc/ste,'';'_';he.adde(l between his clenched" teetti, ant! laid his lumd heavily upon the old man's.shoulder. "Since?" he repeated inexorably, as no anawcr came yet from between the old man's pale lips. "Since?" " Since the night of the fire aid of my accident," said Sir Anthony in a slow, faint whispor as he fell back trembling' upon his pillow, and covered his face in his shaking hands 111 tho big,;jlo\ver-#fcni«l.-ifirplit dining room of Fcrn'dcnc Editli 'Itallaifiy stood smiling ab6ehlly'"arid'' plcas«l'" into tho ruddy blaze. She was looking well tonight as he stood thus, leaning gracefully against tho marblo mantelpiece, her handsome figure lisrome and elegant in its rich robes of some shimmering, moonlight, , chnnging-hned silk, trimmed with pricele-p old lace. She was thinking pleasant and satisfactory thoughts as she waited Gerald Silverton's coining. Ho was with her gandfathor at the moment, he woidd soon bo with her and for a good half-hour she ■would probably havo him to liersolf in this pleasant gloaming hour. Thinking too, triumphantly, of how she had disposed of her rival, and how impcssiblc it was that she should over cross Silverton's patli again. He would 60on forget l:cr, shrouded as ho was in disgraceful mystery. He would forget this girl and return to her sido again, to be flattered and cajoled or.oo more into her ' toils.

So, pondering pleasantly, eho beccimu no absorbing in thought that tho dining room door had opanod softly, and a man tiervanfc lookod in -without Udith being awirn of his pr«*r,ro, till, with a tiwt, she turned at tho round of his voice. " ]{ you pleaec. mi?s, Sir Anthony >vish<r. to speak with you for a moment." " Ah ! Yes! I had forgotten! [ had promised to take iiim the wooing papers," said Miss JJellamy h.i.l f U> herself. "Toll !::iu 1 shall bo there, directly. Harris," shr added, wiili a nod of dismissal. As the crossed the hall a moment or two htov oa her way to Sir Anthony's room, the jrreat front dour was boi'nij cpreie,! by I ho samo servant, but Ati-v. Heilamy paid no attention to the fnVt Ui.it tho man was ushering someone, into the hall. She proceeded on her wav up.' upstairs, awl cast not & glance behind her. and presently sho had reached tho door »t Sir Anthony's room unaware thai a figure had followed her swiftly, and wis almost upon her heels ss she "entered, " Wo!!, grandfather." said JCdith clnxt. fully, " here are your papers." . '

'1 here iraa -sorely a strange silenco in tho room, but Miss Bellamy did not notice: it as dm tswepl towards Ik still upright figure otaniling by Sir Anthony's bedside. .• ;'l wished; to Bpeak with yon, Fxlith," said Sir Anthony slowly, from ont tho shadow of the bod curtains, fcklith did no:. obsorvc how cold ;md cioru was tho vnic« Lkit .vldrcswd her " It wirai't the jiafXTC only, tiion, said ali?., smil-iii; at Silvcrton with a. smilo sho novor turned on any otlior person. " No: i(. V ;an nomcthing more scrions—'' lint what Sir Anthony had boon about to say was «utl<lonly cut short by a 6tranoe interruption, arm the. ocenpante of tU room wore transfixed with Ofitoniehmont 04 tl:i! door ilew opon again, and a dark figure entered hurri«3ly. and looked round tho rooir. with a quick, tadf-bowildorcd. glanro. Tho noit moment n. had glided ake .-. ghost to tho bcoVida of Sir Anthony, and sunk dewa in a hnap oa the floor, paying no hood to tho amazed. faces that watched its proceedings. (To bo concluded.)