THE BARTONS’ SECRET.

South Canterbury Times, Issue 7270, 25 July 1893, Page 4

THE BARTONS’ SECRET.

LITERATURE

.'CONTINUED) The mao stared a little, aod walked into the hotel. Dogdyke stood rubbing his chin a little with a feeble and uncertain aspect, and then walked away. 1 A gentleman of the name of John* too ’—he would remember that. Possibly the name might be useful to him one of these days— ‘ a gentleman ol the name of Johnson.’

He bad been in Melbourne before, and he slipped away to a cheap eating-

house be knew of, and there refreshed himself after the fatigue of the day. Then he set out to look for a lodging. He had only arrived that morning, and had been able to sleep but little on tbe journey. He was easily fatigued, and the fact that he had no luggage made him seem an undesrable inmate in some places, so that he had some difficulty in finding a temporary home. At last he paid a fortnight’s rent in advance, and by that means secured accommo. dation. Then he wrote to Mrs Barton announcing his whereabouts, and expressing his gratitude for the aid she had already afforded him. He posted his letter, aod returned to the mean little room he bad hired, and there undressed and went to bed whilst tbe ■on was still shining. He was . too tired to think with clearness, but his last words to himeelt as he felt sleep coming upon him were, * A gentleman of tbe name of Johnson.’ * There is really no occasion for any quixotry in the matter.’ Tbe scene was Tom Barton’s work-ing-room at home ; tbe speaker was Denton, and Tom himself, with an aspect of considerable perplexity, sat at his desk and surveyed his friend and adviser. ‘ Everybody who has a right to know anything at all about the matter, knows already. The great world would no doubt take a momentary interest in tbe affair if tbe details were brought before it; but then, tbe great world pokes its nose into a great many things that don’t belong to it with which it has no business. Leave the matter in my bands, Barton. Let me see if 1 can’t at range it all.’ * No,’ said Tom, ‘ I can’t give a blind commission even to you, Denton. 'W bat do you mean to do ?’ ‘ Let's clear the ground to begin with,’ said Denton. Let's see exactly where we are. The secret, such as it is, is known to you, and to your wife, to Michael and his sweetheart, to General Mallard, and myself. Now, outside, there are two people, one of whom I think I can threaten into silence; the other doesn't matter a copper to anybody. What that deplorable little drunken Dogdyke may say about you or your affairs will carry weight with no person in tbe world, and I should seriously advise that you find him some sort of pretended employment, and make no inquiry as to bow be fulfils his duty. Find him enough to live on, and let him understand distinctly that he kills the goose that lays the golden eggs if be speaks a word. He doesn’t matter, ! but it’s just as well not to have the thing talked about even by him. I can stop tbe Count, 1 know. When Mallard recognises the fact that tbe thing is buried, he will be probably very much more tractable than we have found him yet.’ * I don’t think you’ll find the General very tractable,’ Barton answered. * Well,’ said Denton, *we can but try him. Neither you nor Mrs Barton care to proclaim the truth about Michael’s parentage.’ * That’s Michael’s own affair,’ said Barton. * He’ll bare no hand in hiding it. And the lad’s right! You can’t deny that the lad’s right.’ He smote his fist upon the desk be sat at, and looked defiantly at his companion.

‘ I am not denying that the lad is rgbt, Barton/ said Denton, drily. * T am denying nothing, bat Michael dim* self is willing that matters should go on as they are for the girl’s sake, and for the General’s sake. Ail that lam urging is that there is no reason to make the relationship public.’ ‘ No, no !’ said Barton, 1 there is no reason lor that in the world.’ * Then you had better let me see the Count, and arrange with Dogdyke.’ ‘All right,’ said Tom, ‘do as you will.’ And Denton, exalted by the unexpected success, shook him suddenly by the hand and went swiftly from the room. Tbs Count von Herder had quite recently taken a bijou residence within a quarter of a mile of Barton’s bouse. He bad but just completed the furnish* ing of this establishment, and had made it quite a beau-ideal place for a bachelor to live in. He had had a quiet house-warming, and to the surprise of the tew who know anything about him bad secured a dozen of the heat people in the city as bis guests. The table had been served in » most recherche fashion, and the wine bad been of the best quality procurable f»r love oi money. These things Denton knew, and was a little ' disposed to wonder at. The Count von Herder’s financial position had been a matter of mystery tp a good many people for the last score of years, and Denton, being aware of that fact, declined to trouble bis wits over-much about it. He suspected knavery, of course, haying some slight acquaintance with the gentle-\ man’s history ; and as be walked at a brisk step towards the Count’s new place of residence, be thought how agreeable and useful it would be to him at this moment to know the exact, source from which the Count bad; drawn his latest supply. That was, not to be known, however, and he prepared to do his best without it.

The manservant, in handsome but quiet livery, received Mr Denton at the door and took his card. After a moment’s absence tbe man apprised tbe visitor that the Count von Herder was at home and would receive him.

The domestic livery was subdued, but the Count himself was glorious in a magnificent embroidered dressing-suit of violet velvet. He was smoking a cigarette through a huge amber tube, and when Denton first had sight of bim, was lying abroad upon a sofa with one slippered foot cocked high in tbe air over his knee. He rose with a display of more agility than might have been counted on in a man of bis figure, and received his guest with an exuberant cordiality. * Ah, my tear Denton,’ he said, *so charmed to see you ! I had nefer expected that you would do my poor house such honour,’

He placed a chair for his guest, tapped him delicately with a tip of a forefinger on either shoulder, and seemed in that action to embrace bim. ‘ I have come to talk to you on business. Count von Herder,’ said Denton.

He was a trifle drier than usual, in the face of the Count’s exuberance. ‘Charmed,’ said the Count, smiling, * teligbted, lam sure. Will you take a chair ? ’

Denton sat down solemnly, and began to pull off his natty black kid gloves.

‘ Shall I offer you a glass of vine ? ’ The Count demanded. ‘ Permit me to rink.’

His hand was on the bell, and his fac«, shining with cordial welcome, was turned to Denton. Tbe old gentleman forbade him to ring by a curt gesture. ‘ Not for roe, thank you.’

* Oh! ’ said the Count/ No ? Cbust a single glass of Liebfraumiicb. I can assure you that I have a most nopie wine, the real chenuine thing. I found it by an amazing accident, here in Sytney. I tit not think such a wine was to be procured here, and it’s just the wine for tbe morning.’ * Thank you,’ said Denton, ‘I do not drink wine in tbe morning. ’ ‘No ?’ said the Count. It is a pity. I hould have liked to have shown you that wine. I pelieve you are a connoisseur. Permit me, at least, that I offeia you a cigarette.’ (To he continued.)