Hertford's Trust.

Otago Witness, Issue 1672, 8 December 1883, Page 24

Hertford's Trust.

By Edwaed T. Fbickkr,

Ohapter VII.

it Shall be Soon. SEN Gerald Hertford, after year 3of absence, came once more within sight of Crafer^, it was with a mixture of feelings which he would have found it difficult to analyse. He experienced some natural pleasure at the sight of his old home, and yet he approached it with the half-

hearted manner of a man not quite sure of the direction of his steps. In fact Captain Hertford had more than once during the journey been so very uncertain on the subject as to contemplate turning back altogether. And his spirits were in no way raised by meeting his old friend Mr Wycherley on the lawn outside the house, looking anything but the Jack Wycherley he had expected to meet. The parson had never been of an exuberant disposition, and now he looked positively lugubrious. Ever since that memorable discovery had flashed across him during his ramble with Annette Mr Wycherley had found his residence at Orafers singularly irksome. If left to himself he would, for the remainder of his stay, have kept conscientiously clear of the siren who had allured his unaccustomed fancy. But Vhomnie propose, and the unexpected departure of the cub thoroughly upset his calculations. Gerald, on his part, did' not meet his friend with the frankness of former days, and the constraint was distinctly appreciated and regretted by both. For the friendship of these two was not of yesterday's standing, and it had b3en tiied pretty severely before now. "Jack," said Gerald, after their mutual greetings, " what is the meaning of this mysterious business ?" The curate shook his head. " I wi&h I could say. Many things have puzzled and surprised me before this, but I can remember nothing so strange and incomprehensible as the behaviour of young Maturin. In a few words, he was here one day, and the next he was not. I doa't know that I can give any fuller history of bis disappearance." "Did he quarrel with Annette or with you?" "With me, certainly not. I have not spoken as many words to him as would be reasonable pretext for a quarrel. With his sister he may or may not have quarrelled. He treated her, at all events, in a way that would have provoked any high-spirited girl. Whatever this protege" of yours is not, Gerald, I have found out one thing that he is — a bully." The curate spoke with unusual beat. ."Whom did he bully?" asked Gerald angrily ; " anyone here ?" Then Mr Wycherley told, not without some pardonable prolixity, such incidents as he could remember of their short sojourn at Craters. He recountered the conversation overheard ou the terrace, and gave the result of his own observations of " the cub" so far as they had gone. But he said nothing of his ramble with Annette, and concerning her he was altogether singularly silent. " This explains nothing, or next to nothing," said Gerald, after a long pause. " Because this snarling cur has an unreasoning hatred of me, it does not; follow that he should leave a comfortable place in my employ without giving so much as a preliminary word of warning. He can have no fresh grievance, and if he wished for some petty revenge for an imaginary injury his best course would have been to stay here and bide his opportunity." "That sounds a good argument; but what would be true of most men may not be true of Maturin. From what I have seen, his is not the nature to wait for a petty revenge." " What can he waut, then ?' ** It is the question that I have been puz zli is? over for days,' sighed Mr Wycherley. * The presence of Maturin here made me un co ntorcable enough : I should never have bell jved that his absence would make me so Si ich more uncomfortable."

" Unfortunate Jack I You are having a hirdtimeoj; ij; betw^e# us all.',' (

time," said Mr Wycherley, wiping his forehead, as though he had been engaged in severe manual labour.

" What does Drummond say about the matter? Are the books and accounts all straight." " Everything, so far as I can gather." " Then," said Gerald, " the mystery is too deep for me to solve. Anyhow, it is not worth the trouble of attempting. The cub is gone, and there is an end of him."

" Even if that is, as you say, the end of him," remarked the curate, " it is not the end of the difficulty. What is to become of the sister ?"

'• She had better remain here with Nelly for the present," said Gerald, after a moment's pause. " That, I am afraid, she will scarcely do. Shf> is depressed and miserable, and talked about leaving here to earn her own living in some way, immediately after her brother's disappearance. I had great difficulty in inducing her to remain even until you arrived."

"Indeed," said Gerald quickly. "But she must not go ; you, Jack, can stop that. You mu-st have gained some influence over her during all this time ; and I would rather you spoke to her about it just at present, than myself."

Mr Wycherley looked surprised, and slightly embarrassed. "I have tried," he said, "but she is not oasily persuaded. " "Then," said Gerald hastily, "try again, Jack. Keep her here for a week — a month — or — until we can make some proper arrangements for her."

"It may not be so difficult now you are here," said Mr Wycherley. "To tell the truth, Gerald, I began to doubt %vhether you would come at all. Of course I have seen that you were reluctant, and I am glad for every reason that you have overcome your reluctance. Whatever the cause was, I am glad that you have thought better of it, and that things are to be as — as — they ought to be." Gerald coloured nervously. "You are alluding to "

"To Nelly Grahame, of course. You have not given me much of your confidence lately ; but I suppose, as you are here at last, that it will all be arranged as we used to wish, eh ? "

This time Gerald regarded bis questioner with a puzzled look, and paused longer before he spoke. Should he tell this man frankly and unhesitatingly, as he would have done in past years, that in the whole range of his anxious thoughts Nelly Grahame had no place ? Should he tell him other things, which, as his be*t and oldest friend, he had a right to know ? Gerald hesitated, and put off the hour of explanation.

" I don't know what oan have put it intr your head, Jack, that I stayed away from Crafers on account of Nelly. I am glad, of course, that she is here now ; and when matters are arranged — that is, if they are ever arranged, — you and I will have a long talk together. In fact," added Gerald, "we have a great deal to talk over, but we will not do it now."

" As you like," replied the curate ; but I was thinking of Nelly a good deal while young Maturin was here. She disliked him from the first moment they met, and I know that they met several times afterwards, and that each time she disliked him more. She told me very little about it, but from what I noticed and what I heard, a queer idea struck me." "About them?"

" About him. I fancied— it might have been only faney — that young Maturin was in some way_ taken with Nelly, and that she came here so little because he had annoyed or perhaps frightened her." " If he did," said Gerald, vindictively, " he shall repent it the next time I see his ugly face. I trust, however, that may be a long time yet." "I hope so, too," said Mr Wycherley, and when they parted he spent some time in speculating pleasantly upon his friend's future with Nelly Grahame as his wife. Gorald's lot wa& a happy one, and the parson could not repress a feeling of envy as he thought of the coveted prize that he himself dare not stretch out his hand to grasp. Still, circumstances had in some way changed since the sudden disappearance of Francois Maturin. The prize, since it had been left so wholly unguarded, was moro unattainable, and it became a question of simply daring. Could he dare? Mr Wycherley pondered long upon this point, and came to no satisfactory conclusion then.

Annette did not appear at dinner that evening, and Gerald's meeting with her was postponed. But he saw Miss Grahame, and had a long talk with her in the gloomy library. They were cousins and old playmates, and there was nothing in the manner/erf the girl, at least, to suggest that there had ever been a thought of their being anything closer. They talked as friends of the many changes that had come about since their last meeting, and on the subject of the Maturins Nelly Grahame was perfectly unreserved. " Tell me, Gerald," she said, " all that you omitted about them in your firsc letter to me." .. "You are like every woman," he replied, " You always think that there is some weighty secret kept in reserve." Then he told her the Afghanistan story over again, a little more elaoorately ; and briefly of his meeting with the Maturins at Dunkerque. " Most of this I knew before. You are a great deal more stupid than you used to be, Gerald."

" What is it, then, that you want to know ?" asked Gerald, half amused and half inclined "to shrink from her. very clear, searching eyes. " If not about the Maturins, I want to be told about something, or about someone else. You have been away for years, unaccounted for, and not properly looked after. I want to know, my poor boy, why the Gerald we have back is not the same Gerald j;hat went away. I want to know the meaning of those wrinkles, and that particularly anxious look. I want to know why you think that I am going to bite you, and why you think poor, harmless Jack Wycherley is going to do the same every time he opens his lips." Gerald, perhaps to escape from her, retreated and buried himself in one of the large easy chairs.

"You always were a young lady of pertinacious habits and an inquiring mind." " A young lady accustomed to be answered," put in Nelly, stoutly. " Yes ; accustomed to be answered, if you like. But on this occasion I don't see how you can well be answered. Some terrible secret would have to be confessed to satisfy you," and he laughed not very easily. "It would never do for me to tell you that men grow old like women, and to point to your own wrinkles in excuse for mine." "No, it would not do. I should only say that you might have grown older, but that you had not grown more outspoken since we knew each other a long time back."

" You have not forgotten those times then, Nelly ?"

' l I have foigottt n all the inexpressibly foolish part." "By the inexprees bly foolish part you mean, I suppose, that parti ular time when I thought you used to carp abpm me," .

there is not the slightest occasion, Gerald, for you to look so very much aggrieved. Honestly, how long is it since you got over all that nonsense?"

" Was it nonsense ?" asked Gerald, rather grimly.

" The most unprofitable nonsense. Pray don't think that I am reproaching you, my very susceptible cousin. It' you wished mo to ever so much, Gerald, I would not have so uncomfortable a husband as you would make. In teresting you might be, with that mysterious melancholy huuging about you, but you would also be very depressing." " I daresay," " But, Gerald," continued hia cousin in a different tone, " I was thinking when I spoke of a time when you were not foolish, as you grew afterwards, and not gloomy, as you are now. I mean the time when we used to go to each other for advice when we needed it. Taking all things into consideration, I think we had better revert to the old custom."

" Thank you, Nelly. 1 will come to you — when I need it, of course." " Surely you need it now. You are a young gentleman left quite involuntarily as sole guardian of a young lady of awkwardly tender years." " Say sole trustee," suggested Gerald. " Certainly, if you regard her in the light of a trust, so much the better. If you will only be businesslike and matter-of-fact, my task ot mentor will be very easy. But befoie 1 give advice I must know the facts, aud, therefore, I must ask you one very important question." " Fire away," said Gerald resignedly. " Are you in love with this princess that you hold captive here ? " " Your cuiiosity is now asserting itself once more. You are seeking to lift that veil of secrecy which " " I am becking to do nothing of the kind. The veil is so very transparent as to scarcely need lifting. Can it be possible, Gerald, that you think women are as simple as yourself 1 ""

" I never did you! that injustice. I believe you are a witch." " Then," said Nelly, " if you admit the facts, I can give you my advice in two minutes. Marry Annette, and marry her at once, now that brother of her's is gone. Aud for goodness' pake, Gerald, take her away from this dreary place. She is not in her proper atmosphere here."

"All this," said Gerald slowly, " cannot be — at present."

"You are thinking, Gerald, that she is of lower rank than yourself. If this is so, why have you brought her here ; and why, above all things, have you taught her to believe that you care for her ?"

Gerald rose, as though anxious to escape from his too straighttorward questioner. "I had no idea," he said, " of difference in rank, and it should not weigh with me for one momont. You know a great deal more than I have evor told you, Nelly, and you supplement your knowledge by very clever guesses. Still, you have not guessed my reason for saying that this cannot be — at present."

Whereupon Nelly was silent for a time, and Gerald went his way. But for days after this he found it difficult to obtain speech of Annette at all, and if it had Leen in his mind to follow Miss Giahame's counsel, ho would have found it hard to do s>o. He saw the grave face occasionally at meal times, or he encountered it by chance on the stairs or in the long corridors, but it flitted past him, and Gerald had either not the wish or the resolution to detain it. »

Until one evening, not long after his conversation with Nelly, a letter arrived addiessed in a foreign handwriting to Captain Hertford, and Gerald 1 , snatching this from the library table, read it with almost feverish eagerness. It contained only a few lines, as follows ; —

" Madame has once more suffered a relapse, and this time it is of a nature that leaves no chance of her recovery, As instructed, Monsieur is informed at the earliest possible moment, and his orders in all other respects have been carried out,"

This missive was signed, " With respectful .salutations, J. Roulahd," and on reading it, Gerald heaved the sigh of a man suddenly relieved of a heavy burden. He paced the floor for a few moments with quick steps, and gradually-brightening eyes, and then, flinging himhelf into a chair, sat musing until the daylight faded int semi-darkness, and the massive furniture stood dimly outlined, like gaunt spectres wrapped in shadow. It was into thin black wilderness that Nelly Grahame presently groped her way, and was startled by the sound of a human voice proceeding from the depth of one of the cushioned recesses.

" Nelly !" said the voice. " I told you the other evening that what we talked about could not be— then. Matters have changed since, and it may be — it shall be soon." "lam glad of it," said Nelly, simply. " And you think it wise?"

" It may be wise or unwise as people choose to look at it. It it is good for you, and good for her, that is enough.' 1