CHAPTER XIV.

Te Aroha News, Volume IV, Issue 204, 21 May 1887, Page 7 (Supplement)

CHAPTER XIV.

JONAS SHOWS HIS HANK. For a time mistress and maid regarded each other in silence, neither seeming inclined to believe the evidence of her own senses. They both moved towards the door, where Jowas Crandal had passed out, nt the same instant. They caught the heavy iron latch and lifted it, and then pressed against the door, threw their combined weight against it, but to no avail. They moved back a pace and took breath, then made another attempt, but effected nothing. Morna was the first to speak. She saw that her faithful attendant, in her great sympathy, was ready to burst forth into a wail of distress, and she wished not to hear it. At that moment, with this daring outrage — this wicked, cruel wrong — staring her in the face — a mystery, neither the purpose nor the outcome of which she could comprehend, she- wished to be calm and to think. " Hush ! hush !" she said, putting forth her hand, and laying it upon the girl's arm. " Dear Helen, do not give way to despair. Let us look at this thing calmly. I want to think what it means. O ! I cannot believe that he will be allowed to do me any great wrong. How can he? My friends will all know where I am, and, of course, they will make an effort in my behalf. The lav/ will protect me." "O! lady ! what is there that dreadfiul man may nob do ! What a hypocrite he can be ! Did you suspect anything wrong ?" "No, Helen I did not. Until I had seen the inside of this apartment I had not a shadow of suspicion. I had not thought a man could lie so basely and so extensively. Oh, what a wicked, wicked man he is !" At this point, with a sense of feverish oppression, she threw off her hat and her cloak, then took the mantle from her neck and the gloves from her hands. And then she sank into a seat and thought the matter over. Her thoughts were clear and rapid. She began at the beginning and called to mind every circumstance. While Bhe was thus engaged Helen moved a chair close under one of the high windows, and stood upon ib, and looked out. The view i was contracted to the eastern half ©f the j rear court. She had been gazing forth ' but a few moments when an exclamation -* fierce YJndieUYeness attracted the a> i tention of her mistress, wuO iCOKecl quickly, i asking what she had seen. " Oh ! dear lady ! the pair of them ! — the hateful villains !— are walking in the court below. No doubt they are talking about us." " Who are the * pair of them,' Helen ?" " Who should they be but Jonas Crandal and that wicked son of his— Tom ?" "Tom! No, no. You must be mistaken. Tom has — " She did not finish the sentence. If the father had lied about everything else, why may not his story of Tom's going to London be a lie as well ? She went to the window and stood by Helen's side, and looked out ; and, sure enough, she saw Tom Crandal, in corporeal substance, walking to and fro in company with his father. "Oh! the villain! the villain!" she groaned, as ehe resumed her seat. A few moments she sat, bowed under the weight of her great agony, then she looked up, with blazing eyes, and the flush of a warm colour in her face. " Helen ! he oan do nothing to harm me, unless he shall resort to direct force ; and that he dare not do. We are in England, and friends are near— friends who will strain every nerve in my behalf as soon as they know that lam missing. And that— ■ that —will be very fioon. Your father will miss me &b noon. I told him, almost) the very last thing before I left th,e Grange, that I should be back to lunch ; and he was to be ready for company to come with me. —Ha !" At that moment the opening of a door was heard, not far away — it seemed to be . the outer door of the ante-room,— and presently they heard the movement of a Key in the lock of their own door. A few seconds later it was opened, and a woman entered. A quick, low cry of horror and. alarm burst from Morna's Ifps as her eyes rested upon the new-comer ; for she remembered her as one to whom, on a certain day during the summer last § past, she had refused money when , it had been asked for. The woman had been intoxicated at ,the time— -so badly intoxicated that, she fell, and Morna helped her to arise, and received, a shower o! Vulgar and frightfully

profane abuse for her kindness. And of a tenant of her father's, who chancfod-to bo parsing at the time, she had, learned the poor unfortunate's' name. She was known as Nancy Downer, and was the wife of one df the Walling Cove Smugglers. And this woman was now at the Abbey, and had free access to herself ! What did it lmean ? In her own mind the query was answered as soon as asked. Jonas Crandal had obtained the services of a female as bold and as bad aa himself— a female as wicked, and as unscrupulous. Ho had feared, evidently, to trust his own servants, all of whom, so far as she knew, loved her ; or at least, would not willingly do her wrong. But Nancy was not long in making her business known. " My leddy, I'm coom tor see 'f yo want anythink I can do for ye." Her voice was thick and coarse, but not at all unkind. In fact, she appeared to speak as pleasantly as it was in her power to do ; but there was a dogged expression about the heavy lips, and in the humid, bloodshot eyes, that told very plainly that she was nob apt to be in a molting mood. Morna's first impulse had been to shrink from the woman, and treat her as her outraged feelings prompted ; but second thoughts were different ; and, perhaps, better. At all events nothing could be gained by exciting the creature's ill-will. " No, Nancy, " she said, calmly, and steadily, but with no false show of kindly feeling. Such a thing the woman would at once have set clown for what it was worth. "If you can give me any information, I sliQuld like it. I want nothing else." " Lord love ye, me leddy ! 1 can't tell ye nothink ye'd care ter know, 'cause, d'ye see, the master hasn't told me. I'm only ter see 't ye don't want for wittlcs an' drink, and the like o' that. " "Are you engaged here at the Abbey, Nancy ?" " Oho !— ye ham forgot my name, have ye ?" the poor outcast said, laughingly. ' ' No, — I remember you. You once asked me for money. Do you remember that I offered to take you to my own home, —to give you shelter, and rest, and food ?" " Aye," returned Nancy, with a comical leer ; " and I remember how yo picked me up, and how I swore at ye ; but, bless yer clear heart ! ye won't lay that up against mo ' I know." • { No, no, Nancy. I knew at Jtho time you did not mean it. Bub you have not answered my question. Are you engaged here at the Abbey ?" " Only for a little while, My husband — Bert we call 'im, but his name is Albert — sometimes has business wi Mr Crandal ; and that sometimes brings me here. I was here two weeks ago, and I've been here ever since." " Did Mr Crandal engage your services so long ago as that?" "I do' 'no' Avhat ye call it. He said he'd like ter have me stop wi him ; he said he'd have somethink for me to do bofore> a great while ; and he never spoke again till last night. Then he said I'd have work for to-day. And now I've got it. It's ter take care o' you, I s'spose ; and I mean ter do it. You shan't want for nothink I can get or give me, nor nothink I can do for ye." Morna had no desire to prolong the conversation. Evidently Nancy Downer was not so simple-hearted as she had appeared. She had talked freely enough about matters of no moment ; but should she be questioned concerning the man who had employed her, her tongue would be tied. She waited until satisfied that the lady had no further question to a D k ; then, with a light of something like intelligence, in her dull eyes, she said, pointing out by a wave of the hand the different localities" as ske came to them : " Leddy, I'll jest tell ye— this be yer own room, and that your own bed. Yonder is your maid's place, where she can hear ye whenever ye speak. And yonder's yer place for wa&Jrin'. Yell find fresh water there all the time." Morna thanked her for her information, and shortly afterwards she irent away, unlocking bfe© door to let herself out, and relocking it on the other side. Time passed. Morna looked at her watch, and found it very near noon ; and she had turned to answer a question of Helens, when the door of her prison chamber was again opened „ and Jonas CrandcCl entered her presence. He came in smiling- ; but it was not such a smile as she hnd seen on his face in the morning. It was malevolent, with a gleam of triumph in it. " Well, my dear Morna," he said, as he stopped within two yards of where she stood, " no doubt you have been anxiously expecting mo. But hore lam ; and I have come to give you full information. Have you thought my conduct very strange ?" "Mr Crandal," she said, still standing, "I need not remind you of the cruel, wicked falsehoods of which you were guilty last evening and this morning — " "No," broke in the dark-faced man, before she had done speaking. " I knew exactly what I was doing ; and I felt that the end would justify the means which 1 found it necessary to adopt. " "Jiislify, sir ! Do you talk of justification of such an outrage ?" i " Easy, easy, my dear girl. Suppose a refractory child will not submit to parental authority, has not the father a right to use stratagem, if necessary, to bring the truant under subjection V * ' Well, sir, — what of that ? Why do you produce that figure to mo? You do not claim the authority of a parent over me, I suppose ?" I' Indeed, my dear child, —I do that very thing ! To all intents and purposes lam your parent. At all events, lam clothed with the full and unconditional powers of a guardian over you." "Over a portion of my property, perhaps, but even that can be set aside by the court. Over myself you have no authority whatever ; and you know it !" " Morna,— sit down ! Sit ye down, and I will show you something that will enlighten you. Come !" He pointed to the very chair from which she had arisen, and without a word, and with but a second of hesitation, she sank down. Then he drew up a chair close to her side, and motioned for the maid to be seated near at hand. He was perfectly willing she should see and hear. His bearing changed as he sat down. The wicked, cruel smile was gone, and in its place had come a look of earnest business interest. It was as though he had something of importance which he had^ come to communicate. He put his hand into his bosom, and drew forth a large pocket-book, from which he took a folded paper. He opened it, and exposed to her gasra, on the lower margin, or near thereto, a written name. " Morna ! Look at that signature. Look well, and tell me who wrote it." She looked. She gave firs* a glance j then closed her eyes, hoping it. might disappear ; for something seemed to whisper to her that there was danger in the paper. She did not apeak ; she could not. A ( g 1 -eat horror had settled down upon her. ut wait. Let him 'read it. . ; 1 ' Morna J who wrote that ?' ' j " I think— my father's hand traced that name. " ' "Aye, it did. With his own pen -or with one of Mortimer Rivera's pens— he wrote it there at the foot of the instrument which you\see.' Listen, And I will read it 'to you." '' • "■• ■ l " ■:

: *" And read Ijß' he /3£d. . li was a formal ;deed, explicit and La< Rivers's own terse, concise and pungent phraseology, in behalf a?i& by direction of -Lawrence Dale, giving 'to his well-beloved and trusted friend, JonaS 1 Crandal, Esquire, entire control and guardianship over his daughter Morna. ' Never mind the legal phrasing ; it was all there— every word necessary to make the deed one of absolute power and authority on the part of the said guardian ; and it was signed by Lawrence Dale. Then he read the acknowledgment of Mortimer Rivers, and showed to her the old attorney's signature and the seal attached. Also the name of Darnley Werter as a subscribing witness. " Mr Crandal, will you let me take that paper in my hand and read it for myself ?" He looked into her face, and'felfc perfectly safe to do it. It was not the face of one who would do a reckless, daring deed. It was the face of one utterly crushed and broken. She wanted to see the paper — to examine it — to fix it ia her memory — so that she might think clearly in the time to come. He gave it to her ; but be sure he held his hand in readiness to take it from her in an instant, should she offer to harm it. But she offered no such thing. She took the instrument, and read it, from beginning to end. In the writing Bhe had done for her father — the keeping of his accounts, and filing of his papers — she had become familiar with the hand of Mr Rivers, and with that of his poor old «lerk — Werter. She knew that the deed was drawn up in legal form ; and something told her — she felt it beyond her power to put it away — that her own dear papa's own dear hand had traced his name on that paper. With regard to the signature of the old attorney she could not be so sure. She could only judge that either his own hand had set his name there, or that his poor, drunken clerk, in a wild and irresponsible freak, had performed a wonderful imitation ; for she saw that the body of the instrument had been written by him ; and, no doubt, his signature was genuine. She gave the paper back into the steward's hand without a word. He asked her what she thought of it. She shook her head, and replied that she knew not what to think. At length he asked her : " You at least believe the deed is genuine ?" She shook her head again. She believed that her father wrote that name ; but she did not believe that he knowingly signed fouch a deed as that. " But,"' cried Crandal, putting on a look of unutterable surprise — "bless and save us ! what do you believe ? Was your father daft ? Did he write his name and nob know it ? Was he drunk ? Pah ! you know ht* came to his sens&g at last. It was almost the- last thing he did before he went away- We were in Rivers's office. I asked him about the money for you, and he told me to do as I pleased. Then old Rivers himself speke. Said he to your father : ' Dale,, you'll never do such a thing as to go away and leave your daughter without some sort of a protector - somebody who can tpeak for her and act for her by authority.' This was what Rivers said. Then yotzr father, after thinking #ie matter over, told the old lawyer to draw up just such a deed as he thought best, and he would sign it. "There came pretty near being a hitch here. At first I flatly refused to have anything to do with it, but that only made your father the more determined. You know how set and opinionated he was." Morna did not speak ; but she thought what a lie it was. Her father was the least stubborn of men— the least opinionated, in the sense of Crandal's remark— of any man she knew. Then the arch traitor went on with his fabi'ication to the conclusion of the making of the deed, when he declared that her father had signed it with a great sigh of happy relief. Jonas Crandal had overreached himself. Ho had lied too hard and too fast. Fi*st, Morna remembered haw coolly and diabolically, how unblushingly and. how easily, he had lied to her about the jewels, and about Mr Blackmore. Again : She knew that much of the story he had just told was false — utterly and abominably false. He had pictured her father in a light a& foreign to his true character as blackness is foreign to noonday. She weuld appeal to the law, and she felt sure the law would protect her. Once free from the villain's power, she would cast herself upon the love and goodwill of her friends and defy him. Suddenly, as she though b, with the eyes of the wicked man fixed intently upon her, a quick, sharp cry of horror burst from her lips, and her face became white like death. Jonas was for the moment voally frightened or at least startled, The look she cast upon him took him unprepared, " Morna, what ails you ?" She started to her feet and faced him." "You told me your son had gone to London." " Oho ! -yes. A little fiction I thought necessary. At any rate, I fancied you would come quicker if you thought he was away." She approached him nearer, and laid the ends of her fingers on his bosom. She looked straight into his wondering eyes, and whispered — it was not louder than a whisper, bnt it sounded like a clap of thunder in the ears of him who heard : "Jonas Crandal, when is Ralph Ashmore, .?" He reeled back, as from a heavy blow, turning to an ashen hue, and grasping for breath, and it was a considerable time be fore he even struggled to regain his composure. At length he tried to laugh — tried to utter an exclamation of ridicule ; but the words failed on his lips. In the end he took refuge in mighty indignation, and swore roundly. " Girl, you're a fool. If I thought you serious in your insinuation I should be tempted to put you into a straight jacket. Let me advise you to be more careful how you speak." "Can a simple question move you so deeply ?" She still looked him in the eye unflinchingly. The great horror— the assurance— as firm as knowledge itself— rendered her invulnerable to fear. ' ' Bah 1 It was the way in which you put it. But I'll tame you yet. You'll find that obedience and docility— that respect for my authority — will be best for you." "And I have 116 doubt," Morna said, herself wondering at the strength that sustained her, " that you plan to" gather the whole great property of the Abbey and the Grange into your own coffers by making me the wife of your son." The strong man was again startled, but not as before. On the present occasion he quickly recovered himself, aglow of triumph gleaming in his deep green eyes, and lighting up his sombre face. "You have said it," he replied. And then, with a fearful oath— an oath so horrible in its heartless impiety that his gentle hearer shrank away in terror — ho added : " And Tom's wife you will be, if you live, in spite of all the powers, above or below, to prevent it." , Without further remark he turned away, ahd strode from the xootn. , ( To ty continued.)