TALES OF TO – DAY. A SERIES OF SHORT STORIES, A CASUAL MEETING.

Te Aroha News, Volume VI, Issue 370, 22 May 1889, Page 6

TALES OF TO - DAY. A SERIES OF SHORT STORIES,

A CASUAL MEETING.

BY GEORGE li. SIMS,

Author of ' Rogues and Vagabonds, ' Three Brass Balls, 1 'How the Poor Live,' ; ' The Lights o' London,' &c, &c.

ALKING with Belle Mortimer to hor mother's house, Edj \ ward Darvell, in his delight at this unex* pectod tete-a-fete with! his sweetheart, for-j got everything except the pleasure of the moment, and io was not until lie caught the expression of surprise on tho lace of the maid servant who opened the door, that he remem bored how 1 utterly unsuited his general get-up was to an afternoon call at a lady s house. Mrs Mortimer, who for some reason or other was unusually gracious, however, soon put him at his ea=e, and, in spite of his mild protestations that he really wasn't an all hungry, insisted upon having some sandwiches and cherry brought up, to which the ' casual ' did ample justice. 'Now, Edward Darvell,' said the elder lady, as soon as tho sandwiches had dis-s appeared, ' will you kindly tell mo how, much longer this absurdity is to last?' •My dear Mrs Mortimer,' tepliel the young man, ' I have no doubt 1 cut an 1 ex-, tremely ridiculous figure in your eyes, and I daresay nine people out of ten would share your views as to my conduct, but I have taken an oath, and I mean to abide by it whatever may be the consequences. In three years at the out3et my debts will be paid with the income which I do not touch, and then ' 'And then whafc will you be worth?' interrupted Mrs Mortimer, almost ungri'y. * Three years of such a life as you are leading now will have ruined you physically, morally and socially. You forget that you have not only your own interests to consult. There is Belle to bo considered. I had no idea that the future husband of my daughter had become a — you must excuse me if I say it— a wandering outcast !' ' Oh, mamma,' cried Belle, ' I'm sure he isn't an outcast !' * At any rate he is not in a fit position to appear in public as your affianced lover.' * You are quite right,' exclaimed Darvell, as he looked down at his costume and surveyed his boots. * Aunt Belle has promised to wait for me, and my income will one day be all my own again, and of course at my father's death I shall be a rich man.' 'Your father may live to a hundred. Now, listen to me. After seeing you today, I have come to a determination which nothing will alter. Either you will at once make your reappearance in society as a gentleman, or I withdraw my sanction to your engagement with my daughter.' ' You are cruel !' cried Ned. ' Well, if I am, I am cruel to be kind. For reasons into which I cannot enter now, 1 want you and Belle to be married during the present year. But she cannot marry you in your present position.' 'No, of course nut,' said Ned, sorrowfully. * Then as an honourable man you must give her up. If you choose to sacrfice her happiness and her interests to your own whims and fancies, you must do so, but you must take the consequences.' ' Mamma, I will never marry anybody but Ned,' broke in Belle, passionately. ' I shall be of age next year, and I can do as I like. I don't want to be disobedient., but I will be engaged to Ned, and it shan't be broken off', and I'll wait for him as long as he likes to ask me, so there !' The last words were accompanied by a little stamp of the foof , and then the girl broke down, and with a little sob, half grief, half passion, flounced out of the room. Mrs Mortimer shrugged her shoulders, and Ned felt extremely uncomfortable. While he was trying to think of something to urge in extenuation of his conduct, Mrs Mortimer saved him any further trouble. ' Mr Darvell,' she paid, ' after what has occurred, I need hardly point out to you that you can no longer be received as a guest in this house.' 'I understand you, madam,' exclaimed Ned, rising and mechanically buttoning his threadbare coat across his chest, ' you wish me to so. ' *It is useless to prolong a painful interview. I expect you now, as a mm a r> of honour, to abstain from aart, t *Mrther com munication with my daughter. If you reconsider your ridiculous determination and make friends with your father again, and take your proper position in society, then you can call upon me again, and we will discuss the matter further ; Sut until then I forbid you to address my daughter or to hold any communication with her, and I consider the engagement between you at an end. Good day, Mr Darvell, and goodbye. 3 Mrs Mortimer rose and rang the bell, and held out her hand to the young man. Instead of taking it, he bowed coldly and went out into tlie hall. The servant who had answered tho bell at a word from her mistress opened the j front door, and Darvell, taking his shabby hafc from the hat stand, walked out like a man in a dream. And it wasn't till he found himself at the end of the lane, that it occurred to him that his own trouble had made him entirely orget the eirand with which John Harwood had entrusted him. He had seen Belle for the last time, and he had left her without receiving the message which he was to carry to her father. Belle's lather ! Mr? Mortimer's husband ! Why hadn't he* thought of that before ? Here was a lady denouncing him as a tramp, and her own husband was a homelees vagrant, too — an outcast, sleeping in casual wards, while she was living in luxury. She objected to him as a son-in-law, but had not he the ricjht to turn the tables upon her and cay that he was quite as good as the man who was to be his father-in-law ? His father-in-law ! Of course he would marry Belle — if her father had been a thief or a murderer, that would make no difference in his affection for her—but it would be a fine weapon to use against Mrs Mortimer, and for Belle's sake and his own he would use it, but he should have to know a little more of the family history first. And who could tell him anything about that history now but the man himself — Mrs Mortimer's husband ? Ned hadn't the answer to take back to that gentleman, but he had a good many questions to ask him, and he would ask them then and there, and then they would see if Mrs Mortimer would not be inclined to come down off the high horse a little. * When Ned Darvell reached the place where John Harwood was waiting, he found that worthy pacing up and down, evidently in a state of considerable anxiety. , Directly he saw Ned coming he walked tos him rapidly, and said, ' Well, you

saw her. She gave you a message ; whatever kept you so long ? Quick, what was the message V • I haven't brought any message,' replied Ned quietly. •No message didn't you see the young lady ?' • Yos, I saw her, but before she could tell mo anything her mother came upon the scene !' * ' Ah, I expected that.' ' Then, a? you expected it, why did you imagine thut it would do the young lady no harm to be seen by her mother in conversation with me!' 1 No mother would be very much shocked ! to find that her daughter had gone out with her affianced husband.' ' You knew, then, that I was engaged to Belle V 'Certainly 1 did.' ' But how V I was a stranger to you, you didn t even know my nnmo. 1 4 Pardon me, I heard you give your name to the officer lasst night. You fortunately didn't think of giving a false one.' ' But who told you that I, Edward Darvell, was engaged to Miss Mortimer V ' Miss Mortimer herself.' ' Then you have been in the habit ot meeting her ?' ' No. I have not seen her since she was a child. To-day was to have been our first meeting.' • Mr Hnnvood, it is useless for me to pretend ignorance of your secrot,' said Ned, now thoroughly mystitied. ' 1 learnt from Belle's own lips that you are her father. Now, I must ask you to enlighten me a little further. You profess to know of your daughter's engagement to me, and yet you have never seen her, and you obtained the information from her. How ?' i John Harwood put his hand into the breast pocket of his ragged coat, and drew out a letter which he handed to Darvell. Ned took the letter. At the first glanc Q he recognised tne writing. It was Belle's. ' My dear father,' it began. 'I cannot tell you how grieved I was to get your letter and to hear you were in such terrible distress. I have respected your wish, and said nothing to ray mother of tho communication you havomado to me, but it has pained me dreadfully to have to act without her knowledge. I was too young when you went away to remember much of you. I was always told that my papa had died abroad, and it was not till the time when my mother consented to my engagement with Mr Edward Darvell that I learned tho truth, and that you were still alive. Of course, I will do as you ask, and give you the money to go away with, but how am Ito do so? I have fifty pounds of my own saved, and I will gladly send it, but you give no address, except that I am to give ray reply to thit. letter to your messenger, and I don't know whether it would be safe to give him the money also. Why won't you let me tell mamma? Perhaps all might come right, and this terrible auarrel might be made up. if you met. I will go, as you abk me, next Wednesday to i he stile in Highgate Wood, and wait for your messenger to come again ; but let me know in your note what to do about the money. ' Your affectionate daughter, 'Belle.' Darvell read the letter through, and then he read it again. • Belle i.s going to give you the money to go away somewhere with. Was it thi3 money you expected me to bring back ? he said. ' Yes : my first messenger was a man I could not trust. I dare not write to my daughter at the house, because her mother would probably have seen the letter and intercepted it. So I found out wheie Belle was in the habit of walking, and my messenger watched his opportunity and gave her my letter.' ' Why didn't you go yourself ?' ' Because I was afraid of being recognised.' 1 By whom ?' •By my wife— by one of the old servants. I never knew who might be about, or who might come upon, us' ' Then you sent a message to Belle that someone would meet her to-day ?' 1 Yes ; a messenger whom she could trust with the money.' ' When did you sent that message ':' ' This morning directly I left the workhouse. I sent it because I had found in you the very man who could do ohe business without exciting suspicion, in case Belle, aa I suspected, was being watched by her mother.' 'But why should Belle be watched by her mother f 'My wife may have heard that I have been seen about the neighbourhood, and may have had an idea that I was in communication with my daughter.' • And what harm if you were ?' 'None to me — a great deal to Belle. My wife divoiced me. It's not a nice story, and I need not go into it. It was my own fault, and I have paid for it bitterly.' It was a strange story for Ned Darvell to hear, and he had to think it well over to himself before he quite grasped it. But he understood that the broken-down loafer he i was talking to was tho father of his ■ affianced wife, and looking at him he quite understood Mr Mortimer's desire to keep father and daughter apart. ' Well,' he said, after a long pause, ' you've chosen an unfortunate messenger. I haven't brought you back what you expected, and Mrs Mortimer has forbidden me to hold any further communication with her daughter.' ' I'm very sorry,' replied Harwood, ' but I couldn't foresee that. The thing is now what can we do ?' ' You must do as you choose. It is no concern of mine.' • Don't turn nasty, Darvell ; if Belle trusts me, I think you might. I want 'vhat money, and it's better for ah of us ..hat I should have it. It will be far better for you to have a father in-law who is a decent member of society than ono who is — well, what I am now.' 'If you want the money from Belle and she is sil - I mean generous enough to give it you, you must get another go between, Mr Harwood. I am forbidden to see her again.' •By her mother ? But Belle will see you.' 1 No, I've made up my mind to that Mrs Mortimer is quite right. In my present condition I am not a fit associate for Belle.' John Harwood shrugged his shoulders. 'If that's the sort of man you are,' he said, • I think my wife's right, and my daughter is well rid of you.' 4 Thank you. I aoti not sure that your gocd opinion would be an advantage to me, so I'm satisfied to be without it.' 'Come, Darvell, don't be in a huff becau&e things have gone a bit wrong. Help me in this matter and I'll help you. You may be glad of my friendship yet.' ' When I want it I'll ask for it. Knowing what I do now, I think Mrs Mortimer was quite right to keep Belie in ignorance of your existence, and I'm not going to help you to defeat her wishes. At any rate I'm not going to help you to get Belle into trouble, so good afternoon.' Ned was in a bit of a temper. He was upset and hurt at what had happened to himself through trying to do Harwood a good turn, and, rightly or wrongly, he looked upon him aa the cause of his quarre with Belle's mother. He felt inclined to quarrel with everybody, and he commenced By quarrelling with the cause of his misfortune. And more than all, he.felb rather indignant that such a person should be the father of j the girl he loved and intended one day to make his ■wife. Harwood made an attempt to continue tho argumont, but Darvell refused to listen

and strode off at top speed in the direction of the Great City. Nod Dar veil slept that evening in another casual ward, and having the honesty to say where he had slept the "previous evening, he was, in accordance with the Houseless 1-oor Act, detained a prisoner for three days. Mrs Mortimer, after Ned's departure, went upstairs to her daughter's room and found her sobbing bitterly. ' What I have done is for your good, Belle,' she said. * Como, dry your eyes and listen to me.' Belle listened, but she didn't dry her eyes. She couldn't, because every time she thought of Nod and his pitiable plight and wondered where he had gone and if she would ever see him again, the tears camo welling up into her pretty blue eyes afresh. ' Belle, my dear,' said her mother, ' when I consented to your engagement to Edward Darvell he was tho son of a wealthy man, and I thought it would be in every way a good match for you. I was anxious to Sco you well married, because there are circumstances which you do not yet know connected with our family history which may one day cause serious trouble.' ' You mean my father,' broke in^Belle, ' the father you told me was dead.' • When I told you so, Belle, I believed it. It is only lately that I have found out the contrary. Now, Belle, answer me a question. 1 have lately had reason to suspect that this man has been in communication with you. Have I been wrong • •No, mamma,' said Belle, boldly, 'you have been quite right.' A. look of deep pain passed across Mrs Mortimer's face. ' I would rather anything have happened than this, Belle,' she said. ' I suppose he has asked you for money ?' 'Yes, mamma.' ' Ha\ c you given him any ?' 'No, but I have promised him fifty pounds. It is my own money that I have saved, mamma, and I have a right to give it to my own father if I choose.' ' Certainly, and he shall have it. Where docs ho live ? what address did he give ?' ' None ; he sent a messenger for it.' ' A messenger !' ' Yes ; Ned came from him.' ' What ! Edward Darvell came to you as a messenger from my husband ?' 4 Yes. mamma. Ned didn't know it was my father who sent him, and he didn't know that he would meet me ; but he was sent for my reply, and I should have given Ned the money to take back but you came upon us before I could do it, and then we all came here, and then you were cruel to Ned, and I was upset and forgot all about what he came for ' Mrs Mortimer was terribly shocked and grieved at the story which Belle had to tell. The one thing she dreaded most had hap. pened. Her divorced husband, a man who had bitterly wronged her and robbed her, had induced herdaughter to deceive her,and had made an accomplice ot the young man whom Belle was to marry. How these two men had come together was a my&tery to Mrs Mortimer, but she knew now that they had. 'lam very grieved at this, Belle,' she said. ' I hoped that this man, who caused all the most terrible trouble and misfortune of my life, would never come across our paths again, and that you might be happily married without having this, shame brought into your family circle, and now — Well, I must see that the mischief goes no further.' Tor the present,' continued Mrs Mortimer, ' your lover must be left to follow his own devices, but this business with your father must be put a stop to at once. Painful as the meeting will be, I must see him and warn him of what will happen if he commences to persecute me through you. The question is, how am I to find him V 'He will send another messenger, perhaps. I always get his letters given me in the morning, when I go for a walk with the dogs. Shall I tell him you will see him V ' No, he doesn't wish to see me.' 4 What can I do then, mamma ?' 'This. When you have another letter given you, answer it at once. Tell him thaO I shall be away from home on the following afternoon, and that you will meet him in the wood and give him the money yourself.' ' Is that fair, mamma ?' * Quite fair ; you shall keep your word, and you may give him the money. When you have given him your message, I will give him mine.' Tho more Belle thought the matter over the more she felt convinced that her mother was right, and that it was her duty to help her in every way she could. The next day she went out for her walk as usual, fully expecting to receive a mysterious message, but none was given her. The next day the same thing happened. She lingered about with her dogs all the morning, and no one approached her. but on the third day, as she was crossing the road near the railway station, a man, who was sweeping the crossing, touched his hat to her, and said in a low voice, ' I beg your pardon, miss, is your name Miss Mortimer?' 'Ye?,' said Belle, ' it is.' 1 I've got a letter to give you, miss, and when you've read it, will you please give me an answer? Belle cropsed the roadjand read the letter. It was as she expected, a letter from her father .saying that he was in despcrato need of the money which she had been unable to (rive Mr Darvell, and that as it would not do to send anyone else to her for it, and he did not wish to injui-e her by coming himself, fie had arranged with a friend of his to take it in. It was to be sent in a registered letter to the enclosed address and it would be all right. The address enclosed was a lodginghouse in Marylebone ; Belle, remembering her mother's instructions, scribbled her little note and putting it in an envelops gave it to the crossing sweeper at once. ' That is the answer,' the said. This is what she had written : 'I would sooner give you the money myself, and then I shall know it is safe. My mother will be away-from home to-morrow, so that you can meet me in Highgate Woods at the stile at three o'clock in rhe afternoon.' Belle watched the crossing 1 sweeper go off with her letter,and then she went home and told her mother what had happened. The man who called himself John Harwood, who was waiting at a safe and convenient distance, duly received the reply. ' I'll go,' he said; ' perhaps it will be safer after all.' On the day that Belle Mortimer was to meet her father, Edward Darvell, having "done" his three days, was released at eleven o'clock in the morning from the ward of the workhouse in which he had sought shelter. He had leisure during; the three days to think seriously of his position, and he had determined that it would be better after all for him to open negotiations with his father. The workhouee regime and jthe workhouse associates, novel at first, had become irksome and degrading to him. He felt himself lowered in his own eyes, and he began to see that, so far from asserting his independence.he had shown big dependence, for he was eating and sleeping at the expense of the parish. He had thought a good deal during his incarceration of the extraordinary discovery he had made concerning Belle's family history, and he kept wondering it her father

would find a means of seeing her and petting the money he wanted, lnstinctiyoly he found himsolf wandering towards Highgate. It was in hi 3 mind to go to the meeting place in the woods. He had a vague idea that he might discover something, that he might see Harwood or Belle in the neighbourhood. Do what he would he couldn't shake the idea off, and ao it came about that at two o'clock in the afternoon he was in the wood. The place was entirely deserted. There wero no signs of anyone waiting about, and Ned eat down to think out the future. He went a libfcle way into the wood to find a nice sheltered place, and having done ro, he threw himself down full length and fell into a brown study. The silence and the soothing influence of the spot soon affected his sense?, and having had a bad night in the ' cell ' of the casual ward, he presently found his eyes closing. Yielding to the dreamy senso of rest and forgetfulnese which stole over him, he soon foil asleop. At a fowr minutes to three, Bello Mortimer came along Wood-lane, passed into the wood and made her way rapidly to the stilo ab the end which looks out upon Muswell Hill and the open country round about. Ao three o'clock Mr John Harwood, who had approached the meeting place in an opposite direction, came alone: the lano that, hidden by a high hedge, led to the stile at ri fc *ht angles from the Wood-lane path. A person taking this direction would be quite unseen by anyone coming across the wood until tho stile was reached. .John Harwood cenie along quietly and cautiously till near the stile, when, by peering tin ough the hedge at a little gap, ho was able to see that a young lady was there, and ho knew at once that Belle Mortimer had kept her appointment. Then he came on lapidly and made 80110 utter a stifled little cry by popping up suddenly in front of her. ' I bet; your pardon,' ho said ; ' I hope I didn't frighten you. So you are Belle, my daughter, that I have not seen all these years.' For a moment Belle could say nothing. The sudden appearance of her father had startled her, and when she recovered from her confusion she was trembling violently. She had dreaded this meeting, and now it had come she was distressed by it. Her father's appearance shocked her. A handsome man he had undoubtedly been, but the face was marked and seared, first by dissipation and then by want. It was terrible to look upon such' a wreck, and to know that the outcast before her was her own father. With Ned it had been different. He was still young, and his face had lost none of its refinement. He looked like a gontleman dressed in old clothes, that was all ; but her father looked like what he was, a dissipated, degraded, hopeless vagabond. 1 1 am very sorry to see you look so — look so — ill,' she stammered, it was the only word she could think of that wouldn't be humiliating. ' I have done as you told me, and brought you this.' Belle put her hand inherpocket and drew out a little packet. ' You will find the fifty pounds I promised you in notes inside it. Please take it and let mo go.' John Harwood seized the packet eagerly. Directly it wns in his hand she turned, and, without waiting foi a word, fled like a frightened deer. During tho short interview Belle had been on one side of the stile, and her father on the other, so that she was gone before he could stop her. But he didn't want her to go like that. He had something else to say. Climbing quickly over the stile, he called after her. But Belle never turned, she sped on till she was in Wood-lane, and then she walked rapidly towards her home. She did not want to witness the meeting between her father and her mother. As John Harwood came forward through the wood, he heard a light footstep behind him. He turned and found himself face to face with a lady. As he turned she uttered a cry of astonishment. Then, hardly knowing what she did, she shouted for help, and seized the man to detain him. ' You will, will you ?' he cried, • then take that.' With all his force he brought down his clenched list full upon the woman's upturned face. With a deep groan she tottered and fell to the ground. Then John Harwood tcok to his heels, and climbing the stile again, made his way along by the hedges until ho found a deop spot o\ ergrown with bu*h and briar, and there he flung himself down to wait until it was dark, in order that he might get away unobserved, under cover of the night, in case a hue and cry should be raised. All this time Ned Darvell lay and slept, but his sleep was disturbed. It was a kind of nightmare, and in his nightmaie he was struggling with a man who kept crying 'Help, help!' When he awoke it seemed to him that he had ideally heard the cry, but all was still. He felt stiff and cold from lying on the hard ground, so he rose and stamped his feet to warm himself. As he came down through the woods to the path, he made his way towards the stile. As he came near he saw something lying glittering on the ground. He picked it up. It was a gold bracelet. Someone had heen there while he was asleep — a lady. Could it be Belle ? He never remembered to have seen her wear the bracelet, but he thought it was like one he had seen on Mrs Mortimer's wrist. He picked it up and put it in hift pocket, thinking perhaps he had better take it to a police station and let them advertise it, after passing some people on his way. Instead of passing the people he turned up sharp into tho wood, and made his way out of the sight of the exit. But the crashing of the branches as he pushed them aside attracted attention, and two men left the crowd and made for him. To his utter astonishment, Ned suddenly felt himself seized roughly by tho collar. * What do you want—what do you want V he cried. ' You know what we want,' said a policeman, who had come up in a hurry, followed by half-a-dozen men and lads. 'Hold him tight, you men, while I search him.' The policeman thrust his hands into Ned's pockets. The first thing he drew out was the gold bracelet. ' I thought so,' he said, * Now. my man, you'll come along with me. You chaps keep hold of the other arm till I meet one of my mates. The sergeant will have to stop by the lady till the doctor comes, but I'm afraid she's killed.' 'Lady!' cried Ned. 'A lady killed in the wood ! For God's cake, man, tell me what it all means !' 'You'll know soon enough,' replied the policeman. And he did, for halt an hour afterwards at the police station Ned found himselt charged with having attempted to murder a lady in Highgate Woods, in order to rob her of her gold bracelet. And all over tho neighbourhood, when the event became known that evening, the conversation turned upon the danger of ladies going anywhere away from the main thoroughfare, when so many tramps were about,

(To 'be Gohtiawd.)