Chapter XVII.

Otago Witness, Issue 2274, 30 September 1897, Page 41

Chapter XVII.

Widow Nash. HERE'S someone at the gate I Bun, Nan, and see who 'tis, for I've fastened it," staid the widow, as she sat at supper thai; evening with her recently betrothed bridegroom. Little Nan unwillingly obeyed, for it was dark by 'this time, and raining.

The pair seated at table listened in order to determine who the newcomer might be, and soon distinguished a lady's voice saying cheerfully, " I have come to speak to your mother."

" She's at home, miss," replied Nan, immediately afterwards ushering in Ohrissie.

Samuel Picklea rose from his place awkwardly, while Mr 3 Nasb's cheeks assumed the colour of a peony, as Chrissie's bright young face and elegant form advanced into the kitchen.

" Good evening, Mrs Nash," said the girl, with a smile. " Please don't let me disturb yoa or your friend. I have only come with a message from Mis«» Drew."

" And what can I do for her, miss 1 Please to take a chair," rejoined the widow, while Samuel resumed hia seat, and coughed, as if to fill up a pause. " Mrs Bingham gave you some old dresses yesterday which belonged to her mother," replied Cbrißsie. " Well, Miss Drew does not care to part with them — or, at least, not with all, and she would like to buy back the dark cashmere. What shall I give you for it?"

"Well, really, miss," rejoined the woman, "if the poor lady has taken a fancy to it, 'tisn't for me to hold it back, and I wouldn't If it was ever *o valuable Sheprize-it.lreckon, because her poor mother wore it.- But 'tis a good dress, and would have made a frock apiece for my two little girls, that it would. But let me fetch it, misp."

" Thank you, Mrs Nasb, and you must let me pay you the full extent of its worth. That is only fair," rejoined Ohrissie.

"You shall see for yourself, miss," said the widow, persuaded, after her recent conversation with Pickles, that it was the paper, not the drees, which was of consequence in Miss Drew's estimation still. He had replied, when pressed by her as to the value of that paper, half an hour sgo :

"Oh ! 'tis nothing so very much ! " and then he had begun to talk about their weddiDg day, and so the widow had not questioned him so closely as she would otherwise have done.

But here was one of the ladies come to repurchase the dress. What should sbe ask for it? Nothing had been hinted as to the.paper, which she had hidden away in an old teacaddy.

During her absence in search of the dress, Samuel Pickles had made an uncouth bow, and had gone out by the back door, in reality to waylay his intended at the foot of the stairs, which a door shut off from view.

He made signs to her as she reappeared with the drees over her arm.

" Don't let it go under a guinea, and another guinea for the paper. Say you've throwed it into the dust bole," whispered he ; and Mrs Nasb, bewildered by the magnitude of these possible gains, and by the devotion to her cause testified by Samuel, re-entered the kitchen primed with her tale.

" Ob, you have begun to unpick the dress, I see ! " cried Ohrissie, noting with dismay that the skirt bad been taken to pieces.

" I'm sorry, miss, if so be yon wanted it as 'twas before. But it can be done tip quite carefal, and no one 'ud know that it had been unpicked by so much as a thread. 'Tis good material, isn't it, misß ? And I'd set my heart on Fatty and Nan having a good

frock apiece oat of it to wear all winter. Bat MiEs Drew must not be refused, and the such a sufferer."

" Sbe will gladly givo you the worth of the dress," repeated Obrissie. " How much shall we say, Mrs Nash ? " asked the girl, whose anxiety to recover the lost paper was increasing. " If I was to go into a draper's shop and buy the material and lining and all the rest for two frocks as good as this, I dare wager they'd cost a matter of ten-and-six each of 'em. But 'tisn't for me to name the price — ob, no I " rejoined the artful woman. " Then we will say a guinea for the dress," said Chriasip, who was by no means deceived by the widow's assumption of disinterestedness. " And there was a paper somewhere about the dress. Did you find it 7 " " A paper, miss 1 " replied the widow, pretending to try to remember. " Ob, yes, I know, now that you mention it, that my little Nan found a paper sewed in atween the lining and the dress. A funny place, wasn't it, miss ? But, then, poor Mrs Drew had had a deal to make her unlike other folks, so I just set it down to her queerness, poor lady 1 " " But what did you do with the paper 1 " said Ohrissie eagerly. " I expect it got tossed into the dust heap, where we- puts all our rubbish, my dear miss." "You think it is in the dust heap ? " asked Chrisaie, now very anxious as to the termination of her errand. " I'm a'most sure 'tis there, and I'll go and look for it. Cold and dark as it is, I'll look through every scrap rather than MiBB Drew shouldn't have the paper." " Thank you very, very much, Mrs Naeb ; and I will help you, and will gladly pay you for your trouble, too." " Ob, miss, I couldn't think of a young lady like you raking over our dust beap. But don't you fear but if 'tis there I'll find it for you." "You are very kind, but as you cannot read, it might take you a long time. Pray let me come and help," urged Ohrissie warmly. " My dear miss, you couldn't stand kneedeep in a lot o' ashes. Sit ye down, and Nan will make up the fire, and don't you fear but I'll find it. I knows the look o' the paper, though I can't read — rather large it was, and folded in four." "So Miss Drew said," returned Ohrissie anxioubly. " Weil, do not throw any scrap of paper away until you have found this piece. I hope it whs not torn 7 " " I hope not, miss. But my little girl took it out. Did you tear the paper, Nan, as yoa showed me this morning 7 " " No, mother ! " rejoined the child, in alow voice. For the little thing had overheard a good deal that was said between her mother and "Mr Picklea," and she was pretty sure that all wa« not fair dealing concerning the lost paper. Indeed, the child had seen her mother place it in the battered tea canister jon a high shelf, and she now saw her take ■ down the canister before she went out on her supposed search. Had the anxious Chrissie been able to follow Mrs Nasb, she wonld have witnessed the widow seat herself with a laugh on an overturned barrow, while Samuel Pickles found a resting-place on a tub. Then, with a candlestick in a bottle, the pair laughed away about half-an-hour, at the end of which time Mrs Nash bound up the forefinger of her right hand, and sprinkling some ashes over the paper she had taken from the canister, exclaimed : '• Now, then, I think we may go in ! " " Wr-at's that for ? " asked Pickle?, pointing to her bandaged hand. "I sball say I hurt myself rummaging among the things here." The man kept out of sight ; the woman went into the kitchen, feigning to be in much pain with her bruised finger. " Here it is, miss 1 " cried she, flourishing the paper in one hand, " and a pretty job I've had to get it! I've cut my finger, too, so I shall lose two days' work this week, for wash I never can ; so there's 6i lost at once. But here's the paper, miss. See whether 'tis all right." Obrissie had received instructions from Dora as to what shs should do when the paper should be given her. She was to fold it so that the first three lines alone were visible, and if these purported it to be written by Grantham Baine and were headed "My Confession," she might be satisfied it was the paper she (Dora) so earnestly wished to recover. With tremulous haste Chrissie, according to the solemn promise extracted from her, carefully folded the paper so that the heading and the first lines alone came under her gaze, and she experienced- a throb of satisfaction when sbe read : " My Oonfession. "I, Grantham Baine, of Mervyn Court, Retford, make this confession before God to save my conscience and save my eoul, if yet it may be saved." " Ye?, yen, that is the paper. Thank you for finding it, Mrs Nash. What shall I give you for your trouble 7 " said Cbrisßie. " Two days will be lost this week, and two next for certain with this finger; there r s twelve shillings right off, my dear miss," said the wily woman ; " and I ieel I've caught such a sore throat and cold in that damp outhouse, I doubt I'm going to belaid up again with inflammation or pleurisy. Then there'B the doctor's bill to pay, and mere loss of work. Shall we say a guinea, then 1 It won't pay me ; but Miss Dora is so good, I'll not ask her more. A guinea then, my dear miss." Chrisgie, feeling that in some way she had been swindled, paid down the money and took her departure, while as soon as her step had died away Pickles emerged from the back room, and he and the widow burst into a fit of uproarious hilarity. "That was a good bargain and no mistake," cried both in a breath, and little Nan was almost frightened by the manner in which Mr Pickles, seizing her mother by the hands, executed an impromptu dance round the kitchen.

The child's fright, however, did not equal the widow's surprise when the latter'e betrothed refused to receive any part of the two guineas. " But 'twae owing to yon that I ever got it," urged the woman.

"No matter. Aren't we two going to be married, my dear 2 " said he. with a matt,

nanimonß air. Nor did his listener euspeofr, that the two guineas formed a very small part of what he expected to realise by the sale of the original confession. Ignorant, however, of the part he had played, Mrs Nash was more than ever satisfied witj^ her matrimonial prospects, and, exulting in the possession of the two guineas, set about preparing a, hot supper for her fianc6. Once or twice, as she fried the steak and potatoes, she rallied him good-humouredly on his absence of mind, for he answered her at random. How was she to guess that these random replies resulted from an absorbingmental calculation as to the amount he might demand for silence respecting the oontents of the paper which had fallen so unexpectedly into his hands ? At length he fixed it in thought at a sum of £3000, the culprit being dead and oat of the reach of the law. " But Miss Drew and those belonging to her have got what the man once possessed, - and they wouldn't like the world to know they used his money, if so be 'twas said oat plain what the man had done." And Samuel Pickles, coarse fellow though he was and at heart dishonest, turned pala again as one or two lines in the confession recurred to him. ? " 'Twaa a fearsome ' deed," he muttefed, half aloud. ■ " What's that, Samuel 1 I didn't hear, the gravy does spatter so," observed Mrs Nash,' 1 turning round, pan in hand. '•I was saying, my dear, how I once feared ' I should lose you," returned he, forcing a smile. " Bat now banish fear and welcome joy-" Aud this time the man executed a pas seul round the kitchen. Little Nan slunk away, nor did her mother think about the child juat then. Meanwhile Chrissie sped on her homeward way. Tightly she had secured the precious paper within her dress, though she bated the thought that it was in contact with her. Of what could that bad man Baine have been guilty 7 But he was dead. Why bring his misdeeds to light 7 Poor child 1 How would it fare with her when she should learn that " that bad man," as she styled him mentally, had more to do with her, being closer in kinship, than any other human creature 7 It was striking half -past 8 as the young girl turned in at the great gates of the Court, little dreaming that she, "a little nobody," could have any connection with the original owner. A sigh of pity, mingled with a feeling of satisfaction and relief, escaped her lips as ahe gained th? entrance. " Mrs Bingbam need know nothing about it," thought Chritsie, whose sympathy was warmly interested for Miss Drew. Light as was the girl's footfall, the unfortunate young won: an on the watch for her return detected her approach, and ran to meet her. ■■♦ Here— here it is I " cried Obrissie, pressing Dora's outstretched hands. " Thank ' God I Oh, Ohristabel, what Bhould I have felt if you bad not suc■ceeded in recovering it 7 Had Widow Nasn found it ? " Her teeth were chattering with apprehension ; she was still trembling all over. " Mrs Nash had unpicked the dress, had found the paper, and had thrown it into the dust bin. That it was which made me so long, dear Mits Drew." " Heavens 1 I was none too soon in sending yoa. Long ago when this paper came into my hands, I pretended to barn it — now I' will do so in reality. Come with me. I will consume it before your eyes, then I can never again suffer the same tortures that I have now endured. But first let me verify that this is, in truth, the confession I have regained with auch difficulty. My eyes trouble me greatly to-night — the sight is quite dim ; but I can read enough to assure me that there is no mistake." Sbe fastened her door, retired to a distant table, and bent long over the paper. At length she raieed her head,^ her face bathed in tears. "It is the same," she sobbed ; " there is no mistake, for I have read it through from end to end — words which are burnt into nvy memory. Ob, Christabel, I am thankful that this cruel task has been accomplished while I still have the power to test the genuineness of this document, for co blurred ' are the letters before my weak and dazzled eyes that the handwriting seemed to be in < other characters than when I read it firstyears ago. But the fearfnl words which are written are the tarne — the very same. Come, strike a match, my dear, and you and I will ' watch this paper' consume ; tben in truth j the secret will be buried. What is the use ' | in storing up the record of a dead man's crimes 7 " Chrissie, who was herself tremulous and agitated by what she bad gone through, hastened to make a bright flame shoot up the chimney. 11 Now, dear," said Dora hoarsely, •• go into the middle of the room and watch it burn. No eyes but mine must catch a word of this confession, and yet I want a witness to its destruction." Obrissie obeyed in silence, and never removed her gaze from the sheet of paper until it bad been reduced to a white ash. " God be thanked 1 " exclaimed Dora, falling on her knees and clasping her hands with streaming eyes. " Surely a merciful Providence ordered it so that the woman who had it in her possession for 24 hours could neither read nor write. CbristabeJ, you have kept faith with me, I am suro. Yon have respected your oath — for it amounted to that — not to read one word beyond the first three lines." "Most scrupulously," said Chrissie solemnly. "Could you suspect me of de« ceit 7 " " No, no ; forgive me ; yon are as true &v steel. Ab, what peace I feel ! Now I can" go to the cottage at the sea, and there I shall forget. Ob, Chrissie 1 what should I have done without you 1 " The young girl embraced her affectionately, ' and their hands were still clasped fondly when someone tapped at the door. " Won't you let me in, Dora 2 " said Eleanor's voice. Chrissie hastened to admit her. " Oh ! you are with my sister ; that is all right, then," exclaimed Mrs Bingham in a tone of relief.

Then Dora came forward, wiping the tear* from her face. •' Yes, it is all ricrht now. Nellie, though H

never was quite, right before. ¥care ago I only pretended to burn that wretched man Baine'a confession ; now, a moment ■ Bgo, I really have done bo. Miss Hanworth watched me, so that: she can bear witnes?, for Bhe read by my desire the first three ljnes before it was consumed to ashen. And you — do you know what you had done, Nellie, in giving away my mother's dresses ? One of them contained that awful story, written by our brotber-in-law in a fit of remorse before he married Milicent. . She must in some way have .read i'r, poor girl, upon her wedding day, and it made her fly from the man she had married, and it seared her brain. Oh, Nellie 1 what she must have suffered."

E'e^nor was dreadfully pgitated. She turned white and red — then sank upon a obair and burst into tears. When she could articulate calmly, she said in a tone of reproach : " I wish you could have trusted me more fully, Dora. It was a pity you did not. As it is, Mrs Nash may have possessed hereelf of the contents, although she cannot read. There is no use now that Mr Baine is dead in reviving any terrible story. Was it fair to me to act as you have done ? " "It was, Nellie. I had first to deal with my own conscience in this matter. Once it said, •Keep the papar, and wait.to know what to do 1 ' Now it has said : ' Destroy it 1 ' and I have obeyed.. There crumble the ashes ; never, never to be put together again. Nellie,- I have spared you a world of woe in concealing from you what that man did tefore he married Milicent."

♦That is posaiblo; but you .might have occasioned me a world of woe by acting as you have done, though. We have nothing to do with a dead man's crimes. Let us forget him."

," I will ; I can do so now, Nellie. And Miss Han worth has been an angel of goodness in ibis matter. She solemnly promised on the Scriptures to be true to me and to read only three lines of that awful story, and she it was who recovered it for me. Well, it is over, the frightful ordeal, and I am ready to go to-morrow to the pea."

."I am delighted to hear you say so, dear Dora," returned Eleanor, controlling all further expression o£ her inward emotion.

The matter was now, surely, finally set at rest. There had been a time when she, Eleanor, had felt the strongest curiosity on thjs subject ; but she had thought differently as years had gone on. A merciful veil had been drawrnaver the hidden life of one with whom her poor young sister's marriage had bo closely connected her, and now no effort could tear that veil aside.

Even if Dora, should volunteer to impart the secret, most certainly Eleanor would refuse to hear it. Heaven grant that D jra might let the mystery die with her.

,In trutb, Mrs Bicgham had experienced a complete revulsion of feeling concerning the yaatter she had once so ardently desired to aaravel, and was as anxious to continue in ignorance, of it as she had formerly been to discover it.

In tremulous silenca she embraced her Bister, while at the same time clasping Obrissie's hand in sign of gratitude.

Half an hour later, when she rejoined her husband, she made no allusion to the subject which had shaken her so cruelly, but in her usual quiet voice asked her guest to "give them a little music," and lay back in her chair as if listening attentively:

And when the piano no longer gave her an excuse for silence she made a feint of entering into her husband's plans for an excursion to an old castle in the neighbourhood.

"We must show your friend the castle ruins," said he,

" Certainly, dear, and there will be plenty of time. Dora does not leave till the afternoon."

" Oh, Dora 1 I bad forgotten her," returned he. " Hae she really decided to go, or is it a feint, eh 1 " , " She has certainly decided to go, and I fcbiDk her much better," replied his wife, ignoring the somewhat contemptuous allusion to her sister.

•' Then perhaps we had better defer the expedition to the castle till the day after tomorrow, Eleanor," rejoined Mr Bingbam, recovering his good humour.

. Still later in the evening, when she was alone with her husband and he reverted to bis sister-in-law's plans, his wife made no xcenticn of what bad taken place that very evening in the room above. Of what possible avail could it be to create an uneasy feeling in his mmd — a vague, though actual regret, that he had married into a family already so .talked of in the neighbourhood on account cf their connection with the man who bad married Milicent? So Mrs Bingham kept yilence.

But hours after her husband was peacefully sleeping she lay awake, sorely and deeply troubled. Had she not now the good repute find peace of heart of her two sweet

little daughters to guard 7 It would be . terrible if any stigma should ever attach to them through herself. She had used that man's gold ! Was it tainted 7 True, she did not know this for, a certainty, bat she inferred it from Dora's words. Seemingly, however, none but Dora herself could answer that question ; but none knew more surely, than Eleanor Bingham that a'bird in the air may carry a matter.

How was she to decide how much Dora at previously confided to Christabel Hanworth? or to whom that woman Nash had shown the confession before she had thrown it upon tbe dust heap 7 Mrs Bingbam shivered in tbe starry silence as she asked herself these questions, and dawn was breaking into a lovely October day when her tired eyelids at length closed in sleep.