CHAPTER XXXV.

Te Aroha News, Volume VI, Issue 324, 12 December 1888, Page 6

CHAPTER XXXV.

4; , - TWO LKTTERS. The portfol'o was not locked, and within ib Everet discovered numerous letters, alj of which wore addressed fco ' Miss Annie . Dale.' , Most of tlmm were in ladies" writing, and a glanco sufficed bo show that they were from schoolmates and girlish friends. There wore also several essays, which had evidently been written by Annie herself, when she was ab school, and these were carefully tied together with a narrow and faded blue ribbon. A package of little billet-j contained locks of hair ot various colours and shades, fancifully braided and , glued to the paper, each with the.-, name of the donor written underneath. There were a few drawings, very noably done, some of .landscapes, others of flowers, ferns, and gra.*ses. and one that brought a startled cry from Evaret Maplehoa's lips,- for it was a faithful representation ol that very house in the mining village of New that lie had visited only a few weeks ?ince. Ths same hand had done this that had drawn ths others, there could be no doubt, even if the initial* ' A. D.* at the bottom had not testified to the fact. ' ' A. D.,'' murmured the young man. 'The puzzle is slowly unweaving itself. This trunk mus-t have been brought here after she died ; but by in'iom ' His face was very grave and troubled, for disagreeable thoughts and suspicions came crowd in ar thick and fast upon him. He put the drawings carefully back into the pocket from which he had taken them, and then continued his examination of the portfolio. Bub he found nothing in the other pockets, save a goodly supply of stationery, and ho finally came to the conclusion that if there had been auypapeis of importance in the receptacle they had probably been removed by his father that very day. He be'jfan listlessly turning over the blotting leaves that were attached to the middle of the portfolio ; there was now and then a half-sheet of paper between them, but nothing else, until he came to the last . two,- when a scrap of paper with some . writing upon it in a bold, masculine hand, fell fluttering to the floor. Everet stooped and picked it up to return it to its place, but the instant the handwriting met his eye, the hob blood mounted to his brow, and he exclaimed, in a startled tone : ' At last I have found it !' Ib was bhe other halfol that letter, which had been torn, in two, and which he had found caught in the writing-desk during 1 his previous visit to bhe cottage. And this is how ib appeared : 4 Santa Fe. June lOtli, 18 ■ ' nic, - Tt is with deep pain ami just learned o£ the d^ath of so 1 know that this leaves „ " .annuity which was her.-, tlo friend! T can say n how ■xuiti and me ; but, believe, inc. my you, and were it posand strive lo cheer I am now koui# to ask a c been friends during all our not refuse me. the cottage. Let it be still as it ha* been in the any restrictions. alone, for it would secure some comn yourself who will ])o not mind the that we are relatives in this extremity qnesutticient for when I return I ent arruiiKO.ncnt 7 shall be very you. our friend. ' WILLI VM jMaI'I-ESsOV.' Everet merely glanced at thi.-, then taking his wallet from one ot hi-; pockets he drew from it a folded paper. Jb was the other halt of the torn letter. Re laid the two portions together ; the ragged edges fitted exactly, the writing Mas identical, and the cpiatle was complete and read thus : •Sante Fe, June 10, 18 '3VIy Dear Annie: ' Tt is with deep pain and regret tint I have just 1 arned of tho death or. your mother. Of "our?e I know that this leaves you alone, in i. that tho annuity which was hers for life only must now cease, and your j future is unprovided for. My poor little friend, j I can say nothing to comfort you. for I Know j how vain and cold words are at such a time; but, believe me, mr heart is wlh you. I sorrow with you. and were it possible I would come to you an I strive to cheer you in this sad hour. Bnt lam now going to ask ,u favour of you. Annie— wo have been friends during all our life, and surely you will not refuse inc. * I want you to remain in the coltape. Let it be your home in the future us it has been in the past— il in vows Without any restriction? • You must not. however, btay there alone, for it w oald not bo safe, and I want you to secure some eonip-uiion— some one older than yourself, ■who will be a sort of, protestor to you. Ijo not mind the expense." Annie, for you know that we are relatives, and 1 hive a lighl to care for you in 'his extremity. 'Kncloied you will find a cheque sufficient for your present necessities, and I return i ■will make some permanent arrangement for you. Write me at on c, for 1 shall be very anxious until J hear from yo'i. _, ' JSver your friend. ' \VU,UAM M \PI EaOX.' 1 1 thought the writing was familiar. Isuspected my father wrote it from the firnb. and jet his handhaschangedveiy much .since this was written. Bu-. surely bheie is nothing in this merely friendly epistle to warrani such dreadful suspicions as have nearly driven me wild during these last few weekb. 1 have believed the very worst — that it was he who enticed her away, and then betrayed her confidence. 1 know that he was in New Moxioo at that time ; 1 know that she went .there and lived with someone for a year ; and then that ring seemed to prove everything to me. Still this is not a lover's letter; it is simply a friendly expression of sympathy and interest, and "a desire to provide for a relative who had no one to rely upon. Heavens ! will this mystery never be solved ?' he concluded, riding and shutting the portfolio, but retaining the scrap o? writing he had found. He replaced everything ia bhe trunk, closed it, though he could hob lock it again, then pu&hed it back under Iho bed ; after which he went quickly out of the hous-c, feeling depressed and bitterly disappointed that he had discovered nothing tangible either to prove or dissipate his suspicions. As he stepped on the verandah something white fluttered in tho tall grass ab his feeb. It was another letter. A thrill went tingling all along his nerve?, as he stooped and picked it up. It was addressed to ' Miss Annie Dale, Va.,' and bore the date of July 15th, of the same year, as the other one already in his possession/ ~ ' ■ Ib was also "in the same handwriting, and v Jiad be~en mailed from Santa Fc. * This is-'6he of the things^ that 'he, came hither. to 1 secure,, and he must have' dropped it ashe papsedout,' E\;eret mdrinurecL/afe' he eat down upon a step, drew tho letter '> from, its envelope, and began to reacKt. . ,'My dkau Axnie,' it began, like the' other* - '.'* your reply, to, niy former Hotter has hurt "me „, .keenly, I; cannot 1 ben v tho 'thought of jour, ~~ . 30103 out intotno world, alouo tq earn your own

living. I honod thai- you would bo content to rcimiin in j our own home, and let mo provide lor you as a brother would do. But since you refuse— how cold and dignified your refusal wus, too!— I am foreod to break all.,bamors down** arrtl- -make ri." confession that tor years I have yearned to nmko and ( dui\j not. Annie, you must not become a govornoss: T should >bo wretched- to think of. yon in siuih a st tation. It: you will not lot mo tnko oaro ot you there nt homo, in a friendly way, you must come to via here , for, darling; llo\e you! I have always loved you, over since wo played together,, as children, by the brSok near the* v old mill; palling our tiny ships side by side, and pro.i i i ed oaoh other that when wo wero older, wo would 'bo married, and take a voyage around tbo world together.' Come and redeem that,, promise to mo 7iou\ Annie darling. Do not hesitate because is will involve the s.icrilioo of the-fortuno boquoathed tonic, under certain conditions, Cor T cannot— t will not -marry my Cousin E^tollc while I lovo another as I love you; and what is all the weal! h of the world compared .with our happiness? I am doimr (jnely here in a 1 the mines; in a lew years, at fiis >ate, I shall bo worth oven more than I shall have to forfeit by this stop, sol will gladly relinquish every dollar lo Kstolle for you, my darling. 'Anuie. I believe Mint you love mr-I have long believed it— and I have yearned to make this confession, and lo hear a similar one from your lips, for a lon jr. long time. Hud I not boon hara jered by Uncle .laoez's will and an unwor.hy vacillation on account of it, I should have told you this that last. dclicrhtJul summer we spent together. JJ.it I hn\o passed the Rubieorn now, so do not rum all my hopes. I am sorry that I cannot come for you, my own lovo, bnt, my presence is .ibsolutclj" necessary here, and I cannot leave for «mch a long trip ; but if your heart responds to nuno— if you will come lo .no and givo yours?U to mo, I will moot you on the way, at Kansas City, and from thero 1 will take my litt o wife to hor own home amonvr the mountains ol! Now Mexico, where we will be all mall to each other. Yo i will not mind the isolation for a little .while, will you. love unlit I can mako my fortune whon we will return again to our own dear sunny South? Annie, toil l you trust mc i Will you rome? If you do notj I bolievo my life will be ruined. Do not think for a moment that I ahall ever regret Jabe>; Maplesons money. I shall not if I can havo you. Judge me by your own heart. "Inclosed you will find the route you am to take carefully mapped out, and the cheque tlmt you would not keep before— my proud lit 1 Is woman ! I feel sure that you can come wiiii perfect safety alone as far as Kansas City, where I shall surely be wailing to r ceivc you. Send a tulogram, naming the day and the hour that you will start. ' One thing more, love -Fay nothing to anyone of your plans; leave that to mo to explain after we ai-e one. Ann.c, you will not fail me. I could not bear it now, for 1 have set all my hopes upon you. I shall not real until I receive your telegram. ' Ever your own. \\'\ v,.' Everett Maploson'a face was as white as that of the dead as he finished reading this epistle. 'It is aU true, after all,' lie paid with blazing eyes and through his tightly locked teeth. 'It. «•«•«. lie who enticed her away in secret, hiding her in that out-of-the-way place — literally burying her alive. I have been convinced of it ever since I found that ring with those initials — ' W.M. to A.D.' — engraven within it, and yet I kept hoping it could not be proved. So she went to him —foolish girl — believing that he'd marry her and give up his money ; and she only lived one short year ! ' Now Geoffrey Huntress' strange resemblance to me is all accounted for,' he went on after a fit of musing : 'he is my father's son and — my half brother, and to him will belong all Koberl Dale's fortune if he should ever learn the secret of his birth. Now I understand why he was given into Jack and Margery Henley's care. It would have been very awkward for the heir of half Jabez Mapleson'd fortune if that Now Mexican escapade had leaked out. But I cannot comprehend how the boy became an imbecile — an accident Mr Huntress said — and I suppose those people got tired of caving for htm and cast him oil". No : that can't be in either, for that woman seemed terribly up&et about it. It's all a wretched puzzle, anyhow. ' Zounds !' he continued, with sudden energy, ' the governor is a wonderful actor. He never betrayed himself by so much as the quiver of an eyelid this morning when we talked about this girl's disappearance. I wonder what he will do about that money. Will he dare keep it? or will he try to find the boy and make it over to him in some roundabout way ? No ; Ido not believe he will cveriun any rUk of having that New Mexican escapade revealed. He couldn't quite stand that, and my haughty mamma would never forgive him. We will keep the money and say nothing. (Jeoflrey Huntress will varer get his fortune, tor / shall keep the Fecrct that I have this day discovered closely locked in my own breast. NeiHicr he nor my father shall era- learn through me that he is an heir of the houses of Dale and Mapleson. 4He loved her. thoagh— l am suvo ho loved her !' he resumed, hi? eyes falling upon that still open letter. ' This shows it in almost every line ; and his face to-day, as I caughfc a glimpse of it through the window a& he bent over that trunk, looked as if he had just buried the dearenl object of his life. It must have been hard to look at all hor pretty fixings and remember that one short, happy year; for they were very happy, according to Bob Whiltaker's story. That is the reason ho keeps this house and all in it sacred. Why couldn't ho hive married her like a man ? Money ! money ! I believe it i« only a curse to half the people in the world.' lie arose, folded the letter, and pub it in his pocket ; then going to the old mill, he unfastened hi-< horse, mounted, and rode back to Vue do I'Ean, looking stern, and giave, un<l unhappy.