Chapter IV.

Otago Witness, Issue 1727, 27 December 1884, Page 12

Chapter IV.

'Nothing is worth s, crime. Mind that. Nothing is worth a crime.' ' What does father mean by that speech, that he makes so often to us ?' said Paul, when he was about fourteen. 'Who would be likely to think anything worth a crime ?'

Lady Raven heard the speech, and its comment. She had begun to note the Bpne-ih. All those yearo had not gone by without some inkling of the truth — some shadow of the mystery of her husband's life. One day, not long after her marriage, there had been a pic nio on the Downs, the other side of the river ; end some gentleman who n-jniqed in a good field glass waß airing his possession.

' What on earth is that V paid he, pointing to the wall of crag opposite. 'Just there, where he precipice ribs 'out a little. I declare it's a fiahing rod, banging by the hook to what looks like a piece of cloth !'

Beazley was there, waiting on the party ; and with the blandest deference begged to be allowed to look. The sun shone full on the wall of c>ag, and the turbulent little river was narrow just there- He looked, returned the glass witb thanks, and walked away. a ' Yes,' Baid he, 'I, know that fisbin'g-rod. It was Lord Haven's, And that piece of cloth is the tail of bis coat. Tbera was a coat-tail

missing when we got him out of the water. I thought so < Ha did come up after me. He didn't fall in. He fell out — over 1'

Lady Raven heard this speech. Perhaps the invaluable functionary meant she should ; for Lord Raven had put him out very much that; day. She turned sick at heart ; but consoled herself that, even if the dead man did fall out — over, tho fall was accidental, Bernard ha 3 nothing to do with it, since he wasn't there. He must have had his horae ready, when he was talking with her, and have ridden away at a headlong gallop, or ho couldn't have caught the coach. That waa her sheet-anchor.

By- and bye it leaked out, as such things do leak out in household intercourse, that Beazley had not gone straight to Mr Pomeroy when he mounted the zig-zag, but had stopped talking with one of the maids, probably thinking that as Lord Raven was close at hand, thero was no necessity for his taking a message. Even bo— if tho two brothers had mat, and quarrelled, and gone all that way to the edge of the plateau — that would hwvo taken timo ; and Bernard in that case could not have caught the coach. And so she held fast to her sheetanchor. It came out at last. Lord and Lady Raven had driven to Rose Lynn on some little business. Same slight accident befel thoir carriage, and they were obliged to leave it there to be repaired. They walked to the little inn at the top of tha village road, where it joined the main road, to take the stage, as far as it went their v/ay, for their return home. They waited, and waited a quarter of an hour, half an hour, three quarters, and at length it came bowling along— • empty. Lord Raven, having loßt his temper and his patience, began rating the man, threatening him with exposure and punishment,

' You needn't say nothin', my lord,' said tho man — and perhaps if he hadn't been drunk he wouldn't have said it — ' You needn't say nothin'. My bein' an hour late saved your neck onee — that night yer brother died.'

' What do you mean, fellow ! How dare you !' roared Lord Raven.

' Now, don't you " fella " me, if you be Lord Raven, said the coachman, getting roused. ' I kuowed then 'twasn't for nothin' that you come tearin' acrosß the valley to catch me up at the Baecbes. An' if I hadn't bin late ye wouldn't ha' bin able to. So I galloped on for dear life so's ye might bo able to prove a halltby, whatever 'twa<\ An' this is all the thankn I gifc. Now, you git in, my lord, an' don't You say no more.'

Husband and wife looked into each other's oyes a moment, and she knew that her sheetanchor was gone ; that tho two brothers had mot that night, and that it was by Bernard's hand that Paul had gone over.

Lord Raven moved to assist her into the coach. She shrank away from him visibly.

' Got in, then, my lady,' said he, roughly ; ' I'm not coming. I shall wait for tho carriage.'

How she reached home and what she did with herself thafr night, she hardly knew. Where Lord Raven passed the night nobody knew. It was not in tho Castle, -

Late in the morning he entered his home and ordered breakfast to be served to him in the library. That finished, he sent, desiring to see Lady Raven upon particular business. She came. In silence he placed a chair for her. In silence she sat down. Changed and haggard Ih6y looked, both of them.

' I see you understand,' said he. ' so I needn't fiay anything about that. But I give you my solemn word that I never meant to hurt him. The fall was accidental.' , >

' I don't believe it !' she returned. ' Yqu are a murderer ! And you have dared to marry a stainless and honourable woman ! You have degraded me beyond redemption !'

* Never mind the degradation just now, my lady,' eaid he, with suppressed fierceness, 'I have business to speak of. I couldn't endure to stay in England after — after this. I'm going abroad. And as I shall never come back, some business arrangements are necessary.' Lady Raven bowed. Except on such arrangement she felt she could never endure to speak to him again. 'Paul is the heir,' Lord Raven went on, 1 and if anything happens to me he's safe with you, here in possession. So I leave him ; and Hilda, of course. But I shall take Bernard with me, and Beazley.' ' You will do no such thing !' exclaimed Lady Raven, excitedly. 4 You will leave Bernard here t His moral training is far safer in my hands than in yours.'.

' I dare say, my lady,' said her husband, grimly, 'if you could get him to stay iv your hands. But you couldn't Hejisn't the sort. He'd break away and set you at defiance. And then where'd your moral training be ?'

' I must have my boy !' she cried, passionately. ' I cannot have you take away my boy. The law doesn't allow the custody '

'What has the law to do with it?' intertupted he, angrily. 'Do you moan that the law ttvkes the custody of tho children away from — from — a — criminal ? Is that what you mean? If it comes to that, then, madam, you shall prove it. And how would you do that ? I suppose you know, to begin with, that the law doesn't; allow tho wife to bear witness against her husband.' An almost inarticulate cry of despair and ragre broke from her ; but all she could get out was — • For the boy's own sake !' 'Yes, my lady, for the boy's own sake I take him, Have I been so bad a father that you can't see I am as anxious to save them from the family curse as you can be ? The boys are safer apart. For their own sakes I take Bernard with me. That I have determined, so it's useless saying more about it.'

Beazley was another matter^. He saw, by instinct, that the mine had exploded, and that Lord Raven, in going abroad, was a selfbanished man. And he had no fancy to be dragged about by an exile into all sorts of uncomfortable thingß and places ; so, with the blandest regrets and smoothest deference, he declined. A handsome sum and the handsomest' of characters paid for his discretion. And before the day was over Lord Raven took his son and went bis way, and Lady Raven never looked upon his face again.