MYSTERY OF HERMAN WISE

Sun (Christchurch), Volume V, Issue 1358, 20 June 1918, Page 6

MYSTERY OF HERMAN WISE

IBv CAPTAIN DALLAS, Author of " The Man Who Wasn't," " Private Smith," " The Amazing Mr Kran," otc.J

[All Rights Reserved.] CHAPTER VIII. THE PHOTOGRAPH. The news of the death of Lord Mervyu Restleton was productive of three immediate effects." In the first place, Lord Hamish was, at least temporarily and contingently, freed from all fear of his indebtedness to Mr Montague being brought .to his father's knowledge. He was oven afforded opportunities of still further adding to the heavy account which stood against him in the books of that accommodating gentleman. Secondly, Mr James Broadhurst now felt himself impelled to endeavour to cement the ruptured relations existing between Fremleham Court and Chiljnantone Manor, consequent on the breaking off of the marriage between his daughter and Lord Merrifield's heir, j* ad in this, with no thought beyond that of sympathy for a stricken man, Sydney, all unconsciously to herself, was seconding his efforts. Thirdly, Quentin Piers Ormsby Restloton, Marquis of Merrifield, took to his bed a broken man, bowed with the weight of accumulated sorrows. Never, even to himself,

A-ould he have admitted the strength of his love for the son who was lost to him. He would He on the great bed gazing through the windows at the rolling Downs, dappled with flying shadows, stretching as far eye could reach, oblivious of the entrancing beauty of the country, his memory back in the past. ITe recalled his pride on the boy 's first return from Eton, a shy, silent lad, yet full of enthusiasm for the life that was opening before him. A manly boy, strong to defend the weak, yet gentle in manner as a girl; prouder <)'.: his long descent than of being a member of the Mobility; indeed, the latter fact made no appeal to him; he even treated it with tolerant contempt. "Anybody with money can be a peer now," he had said to a gathering of schoolfellows, and had been soundly thrashed and called a Socialist. But in this respect his opinion had never changed. And ns he thought of his younger son the Marquis sighed. The Restletons had always been gentlemen, narrow, perhaps in their views, but imbued with high ideals according to their lights. More than one discreditable, episode in which Hamish's name had figured had come to his notice; it saddened him to think that it lay with this young man, whose sense of honour was so lax, to carry on the traditions of the house.

It was a ray of sunshine let into the gloom of his existence when Sydney came to call on him. Ho insisted on being dressed ami taken down to the drawing-room. As ho entered, a frail, old man leaning on the.arm of his valet, the girl's heart went out to him in womanly sympathy. She rose and went to meet him, and, taking her hand, lie bowed over it with'old-fashioned courtesy.

"Sit down] my dear," he said. "It Is good of you to come to see a lonely old man."

At the sound of his weak, quavering ■voice the girl could hardly restrain her tears.

"I am sorry to see that you are not well. Lord Merrifield," she said. The words were the words of convention, but tho tones in which they were uttered showed the feeling behind them. "Ah, well," he answered with n smile which made a brave, attempt at brightness, "Anno Domini, you know, my dear; Anno Domini. I am getting on, and can't, expect to live for ever."

"Nonsense! You mustn't talk like that. You have many years in from; of you. You are a comparatively young man yet." Lord Merrifield shook his head.

"Our age," said he, "is not the measure of the years we have lived. Yon know the old saying, 'it isn't the miles you travel, it is the pace that kills.' Worry speeds us on the downward course. But it isn't playing the game to talk to you like this. Tell me how you are getting on."

"But it is precisely about, your troubles that I want to talk to you, Lord Merrifield. I—l want to share them."

Ho patted her hand as they sat side by side on a Chesterfield. "My dear, I know, I know. I had hoped that you would have entered my life, not to share my troubles, but to dissipate them by adding to my happiness. Now, alas! these hopes have gone.'' "Lord MerrifieM," said the girl impulsively, "there is something I want to tell you—something 1 want to show you." ire looked at her quickly, the light pr a sadden hope in his eyes, but" it laded as soon as it came. "Something you want to show me my dear. What is it?" "When —when Mervvn wont away?" Bhe said, speaking rapidly, her words riutchiug in her throat, "he—he wrote me a letter." She stopped and turned away her head, overpowered by her amotion.

"Yes," said the 'Marquis softly 'Yes. I know."

"1 had no opportunity of replving to that letter. Had I bee'n able to do so, and 1 had a chance of seeing him, everything would have been different, lie—he would have been here to-dav." . The old man's face was working". ITo patted her hand again with infinite gentleness ami a wan smile spread over his lips. "Have you come lo tell me what was in that letter?" he asked. "Yes-, r—] have kept, it to myself, for my pride was hurt. I! was between him and me, and r thought that I was right in doing so. Now that—that—" "Now that he has gone," prompted Ihe Marquis gently. "I see that I was wrong. You had the right to know of what unselfishness, of. what self abnegation your son was "My son was a gentleman," said the old man proudly. " Yes. yes. Always that." Phe sat for a moment, her tear-stain-ed eyes staring into vacancy. Then she dived into the bag that imng on her aim and took from if a letter, limp from much handling. "This is what T have brought in show you," she said. "T have shown i'. to no one, but it is right that vo'.l should see it.'' With trembling lingers she held the Jotter towards him; with trembling lingers he took it. At sight of (lie familiar writing on the envelope his lips quivered. As he read the contents the softness left his face, his eves hardened, his whole expression changed. t«Tl.v:" "The'"' mean',' ''V'onlemptib'fe hound:" (To be continued.)