Chapter V. Molly's Faith.

Otago Witness, Issue 2181, 19 December 1895, Page 20

Chapter V. Molly's Faith.

Herrick had saiJ that he would return in an hour, bat he did not do bo. He had been confident that it would only be necessary for him to say two ox three words and'all would be satisfactorily arranged. But sach did not prove to be tbe case. The cruel suspicions that had spread far and wide, -undermining his honour and honesty, had not spared the magistrate on the bench, the constable, or the lawyers, and one and all looked on him as a a criminal of the most hardened type. The magistrate would have committed him at once to stand his trial at the next assies for obtaining money under false pretences, and most unwilliugly consented to a short adjournment In order that more evidence might be obtained. Herrick would have been admitted to bail, but among all his numerous acquaintances and supposed f rlends not one was willing to stand by him and offer the required Becurity ; and, seeing their hesitation, he proudly refused to press the matter, and elected to remain in charge of the constable until the adjourned Bitting of the court. My father was triumphant, feeling that bis committal was certain. Mrs Jones was triumphant, because her prophecy had been so soon justified. "I told you now, didn't I ? I told you that he was a fraud. What a good thing your father found it out in time. I suppose he'll gat the money back. It can't have been spent, yon know. And as for you, Sophie, what a meray it is that you were not engaged to him. We all thought that it was a caee. It is a good thing you da not care for him." "Yes," said Sophie in a toneless voice, "itis a good thing. Bat there was never anything between us, you know. We were not engaged." "But yon were a great deal together, you cmnot deny that." " Ob, no 1 I cannot deny that." * A great change had come over my sister. She looked worn and faded. The colour had gone from her cheek, the light from her eye. I thought ghe loved Herrick, and grieved because she could not trust him. What anguish conld be greater than hers — Who dotes, yet doubts ; suspects, yet strongly love»T And such I believed to be Sophie's state. Oh, if she could only trust and balieve in him as I did I Then it would not be so hard to bear. I tried to comfort her, to infuse hope and courage into her heart, but without success. •• I wish I could believe in him as you do, Molly," she said sadly ; " but I oan'fc, and that's a faot. The proofs are too fctrong." " Not the proofs, Sophie, but only the suspicions ; and they count for nothing against his word." "But father believes them and the magistrate— and — and — everybody." " I do not." " Ob, you are nobody — only a girl." " A woman ; 27 my last birthday." •• No one would think it ; you don't look 25 ; and if only you'd friaz your hair and wear a fringe, you would not look more than 20." " Why should I wish'to appear younger than I am 1 I think it just as well to be a woman as a girl. One knows one's own mind." " And you mean to say that I do not 1 " "I am sure you do not. You think you love John Heriick ; but you are Bfraid to trnst your own heart — and him." " I cannot." " Thenyoa do not love him ? " " Perhaps not. At any rate lam thankful that lam not engaged to him. I think, he would have asked me that last day, but father just came in time." " And you are glad ? " " Not glad<exactly, bnfc thankful. If everyone had known that we were j engaged, or if we had been married, the disgrace would have killed me." i •« Poor John I " L " Say, rather, poor Sophie. I was fond of him, you know ; but — but — don't speak of it again. I can't bear it. It has been a wonderful escape." I looked at her curiously, and I realised as I bad never done before how great wag the- galf between us. Though we were children of the same parents, and the same blood flowed in our veins, we did not think or feel alike on any subject ; our minds were as different as our bodies. Sophie was beautiful, while I— l thought sometimes that I was downright ugly ; but perhaps the old-fashioned word homely, expresses more exactly my appearance ; but I know that no man ever looked twice at me when Sophie was In the room, and I myself admired her as ranch as anyone, though I could not help seeing that, in spite of all her beauty, she had very little beart. Even at this crisis she thought of herself, and not of Herrick. " I' have had a wonderful escape." Alas, poor Herrick 1 He was trebly bereaved — his character, his liberty, his sweetheart, all were lost at a single blow. Even had he deserved such a misfortune one could cot have helped pitying him. But Sophie only pitied herself, and when I pleaded for him, she turned upon me angrily. " You're in love with him yourself, Molly, and I'm sure, bo far as I am concerned, you're welcome to him. He's not much of a catch for anyone, and Mrs Jones says she believes he is married already." j " Married or single is of no consequence ; it does net concern us ; it is j his own business. What pains me is to hear en all hands an innocent man judged and condemned before his trial, and without a particle of evidence. As for my being in love with him, that is one of Mrs Jones's absurd ideas. He has scarcely ever given me a look or a civil word beyond the merest commonplaces. I don't think he would know whether I was in the room with him- or not. He i& not in love with me, bat he is my friend, and I trußt him. He could not commit the mean, horrid things of which he i 3 accused. I am sure that he is innocent, and I would give a great deal to prove it." " Then you had better'go and look for Lord Wendover." ' " That is just whut I mean to do." Now I am not at all sure that I bad really meant to do this, but even while I' spoke I seemed to see that it was the only thing to do, and my resolution was immediately taken. Sophie's careless, taunting words Bhed a new light on the position, and suggested the only pcs-iblo solution of the difficulty. I seized the idea with avidity, and never afterwards wavered In my determination. Of course there were many obstacles to be encountered — my father was displeased, S:pbie was indignant, and Mrs Jones talked of wbafc " people would say," and finally called me a " dear, Quixotic child." But I heeded none of them. Id a sudden moment of inspiration I had seen what I ougbt to do, and I went steadily toward the goal of my endeavour, Ignoring all opposition. If I succeeded, the end would justify the means, and if I failed, I should still have the satisfaction of knowing that I had done my best. I was glad that I was a homelj woman, and not a pretty g? rl ; it made my task so much the easier ; and once and for all I put myself out of the question altogether and thought only of Herrick's danger and possible fate. The next day I set out en my " wild goose chase," as everyone called it — »nd what everyone says must be true. I went straight to Chriatcbuich to Lord Wendover's house. He was not there, and the mansion showed evident tokens of the absence of its master: there was much coming and going, and tha place was in ihe hands of workmen, who were painting and renovating outside and . in. „ With difficulty I found some one to answer my questions concerning the whereabouts of the noble lord. That he was not there was abundantly evident,, and needed no demonstration. " Can you tell me where he is ? " II He is in Wellington. He sails for England in the Doric. She ought to have left to-day, but there has been some delay, for now she is advertised for next Monday. His lordship will be much annoyed, for he has important business waiting him in England, and he lef c bcre a fortnight ago in order to be ready for the Doric, and she haß been put off twice ; but she is certain to go this time." " Can I get to Wellington before Monday. I must see Lord Wer.dover. It is a question of life and death." •' Oould you not telegraph 1 " "It would be of no use. I could not make him understand. I will go to Wellington if I can catch the Doric." «< The Takapuna sails from Lyttel ton to-morrow morning. She connects with the Doric. You might go by her."

I thanked my informant and retired, going at once to the shipping office to make sore that his information wai correct. The office was olosed for tha

night, but I was fortunate enotigh to find one of the clerks, who had been detained by a late telegram, and who immediately responded to my timid kneok, and obligingly answered my inquiries concerning the Doric. She would certainly sail on Monday and the Takapuna would connect with her, givicg me time to see and speak to my fiiend. Then the obliging clerk bowed me out of the office, shut and looked the door, and no doubt returned to hia task. And I found myself alone in the streets oE a strange town, but the summer evening was still light, and I felt no fear. So far my mission had prospered more than I had dared to hope. With some misgiving I entered a quiet hotel — the address had been given me by my father — and while I stood doubtfully in the doorway, uncertain where to go and what to do, a good-tempered waitress took possession of me, and having found oub my wants, led me to a comfortable room, brought me some tea, and promised that I should be called in the morning in good time. I had ne.ver been ia an hotal before. I waa tired and hungry and a little shy, and I shall never forget that girl's simple kindness. Of course I could not sleep : the strange surroundings would hava prevented that had I been less anxious and restless. As it was I tossed about till morning, looking at my watch every half hour, lest I should be too late for the Port train. I need not have been afraid. The good-natured waitress brought me aome breakfast in good time, and I was on board the Takapuna before she loosed her moorings. We had a smooth and uneventful passage. I was not even sea-sick, but I could not sleep, and my anxiety seemed to increase with every mile that we glided over. What if the Doric should have left before our arrival ? or Lord Wendover, tired of the delay, should have taken some other boat ? Though I knew that these fears were absurd, they grew upon me every hour, until I could hardly control rty emotion. The firat of my apprehensions was spaedily dispelled, for the Doric was quietly lying at her moorings when wo steamed into Wellington Harbour, and half a dczen kindly hands pointed her out to me at once. I was soon on board. All was hurry and bustle. The general confusion and fuss overpowered me. I had never Been anything like it before. There might have been orderin the confusion, but I could not discern it. People were coming and going in all directions— passengers, visitors, officials of all kinds. " Wbich is my cabin?" " I've lost some of my luggago.'' "You've put the wrong boxes in the hold ; I must have them in the cabin." " Have you seen my husband?" "I oan't find my child." " This way, madama— this way." "Follow me." "What number did you say?" These and other such-like sentences chased cash other through my ears and my l»rain. I became stupid and confused. I caased to know what I wanted, and why I had ojme there. I was weary In mind and body. I had not slept for three nights, and I had eaten very little. I grew suddenly sick and faint, and staggered to a seat ; the boat and the peopla spun round. Sorely we were occe more at eea. I put out my hand to steady myself. Someone spoke to me. "Are you ill?" I think the question was repeated more than once, with increasing solicitude. With a great effort I foroed myself back to consciousness. "No, lam not ill ; I am dazed and stupid. I have forgotten. Oh! now it all comes back to me. I must not sit here. I must go and look for him," and I tiied to rise. " For whom are you looking 1 Can I fetch anyone to you 1 " " I want Lord Wendover. I must gee him. Oh ! can you tell me where to find him ? The whole place is in such confusion no one will answer me, and I can't tell what to do ; and oh 1 the boat will be going soon, and I must see him — I must see him. Can you, will you, find him for me 1 " " I am he." " You ? ' I looked up into a strong, pleasant face, with a kindly, earnest expression, and knew at on en that I had found a friend. " Yes, indeed, lam Francis Conniaton, Lord Wendover. Come into this empty cabin, away from all the noise and bustle, and tell me what I can do for you." I hesitated. " Is there time ? " II Plenty of time. I will take care you are not carried off to England against your will. But first you must drink a glass of wine and eat a biscuit. You are tired and faint." He had the aii of a man who was accustomed to be obeyed, and I did as he told me. " That's right ; don't hurry. Diink your wine slowly. Sit down. Now tell me." I told him all. He listened attentively, asked one or two pertinent questions, then- opened the cabin door and oalled out : "Send me tho chief steward." In nn incredibly short time that important functionary appeared. "Be kind enough to have my luggage put off. I shall not go by the Doric this trip. I will make It all right at tbe office." The official looked his amszement, but offered no objection; evidently Lord Wendover was well known on board the shipping company's boats. Ho bowed his acquiescence and departed. Tbe nobleman turned to me. " We may as well go on shore," he said, tfierieg his hand. "But you — you are going to England, are you not?" I stammered, not even then understanding the meaning of bis words to the steward or to me. " Not this trip, I think. lam going back with you to Glendermid." " But you will lose your passage money 1 " "I do not Uiink I shall. But even if lam so unfortunate I shall not count it of any great importance when weighed against a man's liberty and character." " And your business. Someone said you were going to England on business ? " " So I was ! but the business muet give placa to that which should be the first duty of every honest man. But come, or the Doric will carry us off willy nilly." • • ■ » | • • ■ • • We returned to Lyttelloo, L^rd Wendover and I. It was a delightful trip. Ino longer felt any fear or anxiety. In some mysterious way my companion had lifted all trouble from my shoulders. I ate, drank, slept, and enjoyed myself. I had the be&t cabin, tho best seat at table. I was surrounded with delicate attentions, every wish was forestalled, for the first and probably the last time in mylife I knew what it was to travel en prince. I did not worry any longer about Herrick, for I knew that all would be well. Lord Wendover did not tell me why he was returning with me, and when I asked him he smiled and told me not to worry, and I trusted him entirely. He was well known to every one on board, and seemed to be loved nr,d respected by all. I saw that it was a good thing to be rich and powerful, i£ one could use wealth and power as he did for the good of others. That short voyage was a revelation to me in more ways than one\ We reached the township of Glendermid a3 the Magistrate's Court was sitting. Having stopped at the nearest railway station, where Lord Wendover engaged a buggy and driver to take us to our destination. He bad carefully timed our dramatic arrival sq that we weie neither too early nor too late. We defcended from our vehicle at the-door of the courthouse. " Now, Molly, take my arm. Let down your veil. Speak to no one." I obeyed ; and we were in the court. I looked up, and saw the magistrate sitting on the bench with the air of a Dogberry whose wisdom cculd not be refuted. I saw my father and Sophie and r.umerons friends and acquaintances ; indeed, all tbe people I had aver known in my life except the chance acquaintances of the last few dayp. And after a few minuter, I saw Herrick, and I noticed ihat in spite of his dauntless bearing bis face was white and troubled. And no wonder; he was one alone — all the rest were against him. I would have run to his side to whisper a word of comfort, bub my companion held me fast and forced me to listen to what was passing. « One by one the witnesses, so-called, offered their testimony. One had seen tbi?, another had suspected that, a third had imagined something else. But there was no evidence — none. And yet it would seem that every man and woman had puspected him for weeks, and placed their own false construction on his simplest actions. Now and again the accused looked around him in amazement as if he could not recognise the distorted portrait thus presented to his notice, and appeared to be scarcely surprised when the sapient magistrate duly committed him for trial at the next assizes on a charge of conspiracy to defraud and of obtaining money under false pretences. Herrick defended himself bravely, but to no purpose. Hia case was prejudged, his accusers beirg also his judges. He caw it from the first; and tbout.ii he cross-examined a few witnesses he soon peraeived that his causa w. a liopbJ-f ?, and with the cairn courage cf a brave man he accepted the ineviLable. Yet when the magistrate was about to give his verdict he made one more appeal, but was peremptorily silenced. My companion now took off his bat, and stepped forward so that the light fell full upon bis face. Herrick recognised him, and a sudden gleam of hope flashed into his face. " I call a witness I" he cried ; " I call a witness— Francis CDnnistcn, Viscount Wendover." There was a confusion and commotion in the court. Seme said it was too late for tho accused to call a witness, as the case was already decided aad the verdict given ; but this obiection waa over-ruled, chiefly by tfca

influence of the great man himself. And my companion stepped into tha witness-bos and was duly sworn. 11 My name is Francis Oonniston, Viscount Wendover," he said. " I know the accused. He is my friend and agent."~A general commotion in conrtr.^ Everyone tried to get to the front, but could not ; several people looked very uncomfortable, especially the magistrate, who begtm to mop his face with a large silk handkerchief and to tip the tumbler of warm water that stood on his desk. — " I also know the Rosebud Amalgamated. I have aeen, the crushing ; it is very rich. I think it is the richest mine on the West Coast— as good as Mount Morgan, or better. lam nob an eipert, bat £ know something about mines, and I have seen all the richest mines in the southern hemisphere. The Jtosebud belongs to an English syndicate. I have a share in it. It is not in the market. All the shares are taken up except one— the thirty-second— which was reserved for Mr Herriok himself. He had a right to purchase or to sell it, whichever he chose. I believe he has sold it. If so, I congratulate the purchaser, and can assure him tbat it is about the best bargain he ever made in bis life. How iB it lam here 1 I will tell you. I was on my way to England — had already taken my passage— and was on board the Doric, when this young lady came to me and told me of the injustice which threatened a noble and innocent man, whose statement just given is true in every particular, and who is qnite incapable of the crime with wbioh he is charged, and which should uaver havo been brought against him in this or any other court, »inca there is not a particle of evidence to support the oharge, and none but the most prejudiced and ignorant persons could have entertained it for a moment." Then the weather-cock of public opinion veered suddenly round, the magistrate bowed to the viscount, accepted without comment his cutting reproof, apologised for the mistake which had so nearly condemned an innocent man, and finally dismissed the case, declaring that the accused - left the court " without a stain on his character." Men who had just doclared him a f caqd, a swindler, and a thief now crowded around to Bhake h&nds and congratulate him en his vindication. And among these my father was - foremo3t, for he was an honest man, though somewhat hot-tempered. And Sophie, going to his side and holding out both hands, cried in her ; sweetest tones : | " John I won't yon forgive me 1 " " Certainly, I will. It was quite a natural mistak'o on your part, in which it seems that all these good people shared. lam glad that you all see your error, and I accept your apologies in. tbe spirit in which they aro offered ; but I cannot shut my eyes to tho fact tbat i£ Lord Wendover had nofc ap- , pearcd at the nick of time I should at .this very moment have been kicking my heels in prison, cursing you fora set of brainless noodles, who were ready to adopt the vilest suspicions without waiting for proof; while you on your side would have believed that the Rosebud Amalgamated was a fraud and T, myself, a swindler. Ido not blame you. Why should 1 1 Perhaps id like circumstances I chould have done bo better myself. Fortunately Molly's faith is of a different calibre. Who builds on that, builda on a rock not to be shaken by the waves of doubt or the shifting sands of adversity. Happy tbe man who wins and prizes as it deserves the love of such a woman. Her price is • abovo rubies. 1 " Herrick turned towards me, and a light that I had never seen before, shone in his eyes. But Lord Wendover still held my hand in his. " She is too good for yon, John," he said mischievously. But John and I knew better. i