THE TAINT

Taranaki Daily News, 27 May 1933, Page 11 (Supplement)

THE TAINT

By

Wilfred Roberts

CHAPTER Xll.—(Continued.) ~ “ I can imagine nothing that wouldn’t be light compared with this, except crime in the family, and I have that as well, My grandmother was dangerous—lt’s a pretty record.” “ Bevis,’’ said Mr Thornbury, “ you said just now that anything else would seem light compared with this. Are you sure of yourself? Are you certain that you jn eant it? People say such things, and find that they have made a big mistake when the test comes.”

“ I am perfectly certain,” said Bevis with emphasis, “ I should be glad to change places with anyone else, no matter what their disadvantages might be, if only'l could be free from this. Don't think me ungrateful, father,” he went on. ** I know how much you have done for me. But you can’t understand what this means.”

“ Of course I knew that poor Kate’s mind was unsettled, ‘‘Mr Thornbury remarked, I,n the same meditative fashion.. “ But this is the first I have heard of the story you have just told me. And, when we w r ere married, I had no more idea that Kate was in danger of insanity, than that I was myself-” ' . .

” I know. J did not suppose that you—” “ But, in any case,” Mr Thornbury went on, unheeding the interruption, “ it need not trouble you any longer, Bevis. There was no reason why I should have told you. You need never have heard of it —for she was not your mother.” x . ... Bevis sprang to his feet, thinking at first that Mr Thornbury’s own brain had suddenly given way." “ Not my mother I” “ No. She was not related to you in any way. There js no risk of inheriting madness from either side of your family- Their record js perfectly Clear of It.” / . Bevjs dropped back in his chair. The change from despair to hope, was almost too much for him. He was conscious that Mr Thornbury was speaking still, but the words went by as sounds without meaning. Not his mother; there was no hereditary taint in him, after all. and his sufferings had been needless. Now, at length, he could know that he was innocent of Miss Drummond’s murder.- The danger had gone. It had never really existed.' The fears that had made his life a misery had melted, like shadows before the coming of the light. There was no more need to dread the future. For ’ the moment, the relief was harder to bear than the long continued pain, to which he had grown partly accustomed. Bevis sat silent until his mind was steady onoe more, and he could begin to grasp the fact that this was reality, and not some mocking illusion. •' , ■■ And Joyce? The thought of her(lashed across his mind. Joyce, who had stood so faithfully by him through all; what would she think of It 7. There was nothing to divide then now. Bevis looked up at last, to. see Mr Thornbury watching him anxiously. “I wish to Heaven you’d spoken of it before,” said the elder man. “I can see it has gone precious hard with you.” ‘‘You have no idea how hard,” said Bevis. "Not.- my mother! And—and— —?’’

“Your uncle, Bevis, that is all. Your mother was my only sister, Christina Thornbury."

“Was?” “Js, I should have said. Though she ’’

“I think I understand,” said Bevis, his face hardening a little, as he prepared to meet what was coming. The news was not all good. But the worst could not- count for much beside the great gain. “You don’t understand at all,” Mr Thombury answered ■ sharply, “and you will run away with the Idea that things are far worse than is really the .case if you. Jump to conclusions., like ;that. . It is true that, from one point .of view, they couldn’t be worse, so far as your legal position is concerned. there are other htings to be considered. She was in no way to blame, nOr your father either. It was a miserable business, but you were not wronged deliberately. I had better tell-you all about it, just as it happened,” Mr Thornbury added, throwing himself wearily down into a chair, “and tiign you can judge. “ChrisTlna and I were the only children,” he went on,, “she several yearsthe younger. I had not very long been started in the business when my father died; my mother had died years before when Christina was born. He left enough money, divided equally between us, to help me on in the world, and to keep her, in a quiet sort of way, comfortably enough- She was only a school-girl then, but we had several friends, who used to do what they could for her, and, as time went on. and she got over my father’s death, she was happy enough. I think she was one of the prettiest girls I have . ever seen, and when she left school she spent most of her time with one or other of our friends. She had her real home with me, of course, but I saw less of her than they did, though we were always fond of each olher, and she and Kate—for I was married by that time—were good friends. I have blamed myself, sometimes, for letting her go out of my sight so much, and yet,' if she had been with me at the time I should have suspected nothing wrong. “It was on one of these visits that she met Sir Arthur Trevelyan."

, Bevis could not repress a start, but Mr Thornbury went on, unheeding. “He had not long been” In England. As you may have heard, in his younger days, he had no idea that he would come in for the title, and the Trevelyan property. He had gone to India as a civil engineer, and I believe was doing very well, when several deaths, following closely on each other, changed the course of his life for him, and naturally brought him home.

“I believe he was attracted by Christina from the first. At least, not many months after they met they were engaged, and soon afterwards they were married. I liked what I had seen of him, and I belived that Christina would be happy. I was not at all sorry that she should have another home than mine, for I was beginning to fear that pour Kate-—Shat she was threatened with what actually came to her. We had lost two children, and the sorrow seemed to tell upon her mind more than it should have done. Some littlev,.while— peis haps about .six’*months—after Christina’s marriage, I ~Tbok~—Kate to .a specialist in mind troubles, and he only confirmed my fears. Ifewkave me some hope that she might esWipe actual insanity, or that it might take a very mild form. But the danger was there, and, worse still, he thought that it might be hereditary. He questioned me very closely about her family, but I knew nothing of it on the mother’s side, and so far as the. Greshams were concerned, there was no trouble of the kind. But I knew—” Mr Thornbury gtpp qontinuej yyith a_ visible

effort after a few seconds. “I knew | that there would be another PhUd, and the position was awful. I feared that, I if' it died, Kate was sure to lose her ! reason, and at the same time I could I not possibly wish it to live with such an inheritance. She knew nothing about this. How much she suspected of the truth as to herself, I never learned until the end; but, of course, I was careful to tell her nothing of what the doctor had told me. She was in a strange state just then, not mad, but fanciful and given to queer moods. Her strength was very far from what it ought to be, and she had taken into' her head that she wanted to live in a little village in the north, where she had once spent a few days. Undoubtedly. it was a mental kink, and I was afraid to oppose her. Yet, I did not know what to do. My position in the firm was different then, for I was only one of the junior partners, and though I . had . a good salary,. I couldn’t take myself off at pleasure and leave the work. I could not stay with Kate if she went to the village, and I could not leave her alone. It was then that Miss Drummond came to my help. She was a distant connection of mine, and I am sure that* she had seen what was wrong with Kate before I knew it myself. We had to have it but together, and she offered to go and live with Kate in this out-of-the-way village. My poor wife liked her, and Miss Drumpiond was Just the person who could be trusted in such a - case. She had been trained as a nurse before she came into the money that enabled her to travel for her pleasure, and she was bne of the coolest and most level-headed women t-have ever known. She and Kate settled down together, and I went to see them as often . as I could get away. Kate began to gain strength, and I had hopes Of her escaping the worst, for a time at least.” Mr Thornbury broke off. He was lost in his memories of the past,, and Bevis, eager as he was to hear ail, did not venture to Interrupt him. Slowly the minutes went by in that profound stillness that made even the ticking of the clock on thp mantelpiece above them sound heavy and oppressive, Bevis was beginning to find the suspense intolerable, when a cinder fell from the fire, and the noise, slight as it was. brought Mr Thornbury back to himself. “One night, when X had gone, to spend the week-end vyith them, I was sitting alone downstairs. I knew that Kate’s baby would be born before long, and I was almost distracted. It was terrible to think of the poor little thing living, with the risk of insanity. always before it. And, lf .lt died, I was convinced that/Kate would 60 mad. She had felt the death of the others so much. It was that which first threw her off her balance. Miss'Drum* mond was orit of the room. Kate, of course, had a nurse in attendance, and another was in the housiJ in case of need. It was a small place, just large enough to hold us all c<? mfort ably. The village was as wild and. lonely a spot as you can imagine—a fishing village on the edge of the sea. Kate always loved the sea, and particularly just then. F “I was beginning to think that I had better go. to my room, when I heard a knock at the door. It was so faint that I knew no one else would hear it, and, indeed. I was not quite sure whether it might .not be the. wind —it was a very, rough night.. I went, Just to satisfy my own mind, and at first I,saw nothing. Then the light tell on a woman, who was lying on the step, as though she had collapsed there. I stooped over her, and moved her face 'towards the light-— and I saw she was my sister Christina.” CHAPTER XIII. *'l managed -to lift her inside,” Mr Thornbury continued. “I did not want to call anyone if it could be-helped, for I knew that something terrible must have happened to bring her there. Fortunately Miss, Drummond came downstairs just then, and between us we brought-Christina round —I had almost feared that she was dead at first, but it proved that she had fainted from exhaustion. Miss Drummond, who was a very strong woman in these days, helped me to carry Christina to her room, and she sent me down, telling me to leave mem alone. There was no question of my trying to rest, that night, for Kate was far too ill. I remained downstairs, waiting until Miss Drummond would report to me about my sister. Alter a time she came down, and said mat Christina seemed a little better, but was still very weak and must not be questioned.. She had left her home suddenly, and on reaching the neatest to us—it was over six miles a,wav—-had found that it was impossible to get, a trap, and had walked up through all the bitter cold and rain. She had told Miss Drummond .so much, but had said nothing as to the reason for her coming. So I could only wonder what had happened, and wait till she was able to telll me. “An hour or so later I went up to rnd out if I could, how*Christina was. Kent Uw quietly. thlnW that «he might be asleep, but Miss Drummond heard me, and came out of the roowShe told me to go at once to> the doctor who had come to attend Kate, and ask him whether he could leave her for a while and see my sister. That night, Bevis, you were born. Mr Thornbury was silent for a while, living over those sorrowful, anxious hours in his memory, before he continued. w ' . (To be continued.!