THE YOUNG WIFE'S SECRET; OR, THE HEIRS OF WYCOMBE HALSL

Taranaki Herald, Volume XLV, Issue 10707, 1 September 1896, Page 4

THE YOUNG WIFE'S SECRET ; OR, THE HEIRS OF WYCOMBE HALSL

By Emma Garrison Jones, Author of " Strafchmore's Sin," "The Hover Captain," "The Midnight Prophecy," &c. CHAPTER XXXl—Contiuned. <$5f i£s«j^a3?UTi £s«j^a3?UT instead of swallowing (M ose a c^^^> aa c Ojjl) had done evor since the (skjjjjj^-gjg ' beginning of hi 3 illness, before the watching little woman could carry out her intention and dash the i poisoned di aught from the hand of the murderess, all at onoe the baronet uttered a , savage cry, and shooting out, both' Bkiuny hands, he clutched the wOman ani hold her with a grasp like steel.. " Ha, murderess!' 1 - he cried, his eyes wide open,' his thin face flushed, " are you at 'your work again? I hiwe caught you now! Here, ho, officers! come and arrest this woman. She murdered my son! she tried to murder me! , And now she is at her work again!" With the sinewy hands still dragging' her down, Edith Wycombo let the poisoned cup drop from her fingers and , shrieked aloud in mortal terror. " Why, what does all this mean?" ueationed Betty Yerhon, gliding quietly o the bedside and putting her arm about Sir Roger's shoulders to support him. "It means that I have found my tongue at last, 1 ' he cried, "and my, strength, too. Take away your arm — I am strong enough. Have the officers summoned to take this murderess; I can hold her till they come! I have seen her day and night for weeks, hanging over me, with her devilish eyes, and 1 knew what she meant, yet I could not speak; but, thank Heaven, I can now— she is the woman who murdered my son ; I know her face Irom the picture, , She is the woman who came upon me in her black mask and drove her dagger into my breast. She is a murderess! Why don't you summon sthe5 the officers?"The half-frantic words, poured out in an'eager'tb'rronl, roused Edith Wyeombe, from her stupor of terror and surprise. With a great and sudden effort, she fredd herself, from tlieold man's hold. "He is wild— he raves!" she exclaimed her lips blue and faltering, as she turned to Betty. " I was trying ta give -him the cordial •" " Yes, I know all about it," , replied Betty, quietly. "I have been in the ante-; room behind the ■ at ras fora couple; of hours " , ".Then you have watched me?"' panted the creature, glaring' about her like an infuriated beast brought' to bay. " Wqll, you shall die for it!" Quick as light she drew a slender dag ger fr«m her bosom, and flew at Betty with a maniac's fury. Sir Roger ottered a loud cry, which was echoed by Di, as she threw up the window and leaped in. The little dagger was aimed for Betty's heart, and might have reached it, had not Di so suddenly and . unexpectedly thrown herself between them, and received the wound in her shoulder . it was an ugly blow, and the poor girl staggered back as she received it, with a faint cry. " You! you here!" cried the murderess, as she caught sight of her face, and wild with desperate rage, she raised her shining weapon for another blow. Bat at that instant, Kitty and the' man-servant, roused by the bell which Sir Roger had violently rang, burst Into the apartment, 11 Help us to secure this woman!, she is trying to murder us all," said Betty; and as she spoke she gave the woman's upraised arm a dexterous blow, which sent the little weapon tinkling across the room. " Now, James, she proceeded, with calmness and courage, " get her into the dressing-room." James was a powerful fellow, and with some help from Betty, he succeeded in forcing the baronet's sister through the adjoining door-way. " That will do," said Betty, as she left the dressing-room, closing the door behind her, and turning the key. "You can stay there, madame, till the officers come. James, hasten to Penzance for the police." In twenty minutes' time a couple of officers entered Sir Roger's room. The baronet was sitting up in bed, with the coverlid drawn up around his shoulders, and a curious look of life and.consciousness in his sunken eyes. Poor Di, who was suffering much from her painful wonsd, had been given into Kitty's care nntil James could get a surgeon, and Betty sat alone by the bedside. " Well, madame," said one of the officers, glancing sharply about the room, « what's up?", ......,,. ' ' ' / 'j y AJgrea'i deal," sir;" responded Betty, with an air of subdued triumph, but agk ■Sir Roger; he is able to tell you, I thinkL' < f ",Sir<\Rt>ger!'V ejaculated the office)*, turning toward the bed. '" Why,- bless my sonl, §ir r Roger," he added, staring in asfdnishmckt; ". I had no idea " ," NoVer'namd,." "said the old man, "silencing him with a gesture, " sit down there' and let me talk.' I never was mudh of, a talker;! but 1 111 1 find it a sort of com.fort to be able to use 1 my tongue again, [have lain here for weeks, sir, as c»ngoitfns' &B, you are, with a full sense of ill that was going on, and yet deprived of all power to speak or communicate my thoughts to those about me. I have be^a in a sort of trance, sir, and it only ended when that woman laughed. Ob, what a repulsive laugh it was!" \ He shuddered and shook his head, add the officer stared at him, half believing him to be out of his mind. \ v "I am as sane as you are," said toe baronet, reading his thoughts, " and perhaps more so. How long is it since the night when I was struck down?" " Near two months, sir," ' -, " And who has been charged with "the deed?" ' ; ' " "'"'' iU " The officer glanced toward Betty, and she replied: , ' ■ '; i : • " Your nephew, • Clifford Kent, is, under arrest, Sir Roger." ' "What?" ■"' ''■ " He came here, under suspicious circumstances, on the night of the deed,", explaimed Betty. The old man seemed to ruminate for a minute, and then a sudden intelligence flashed up in his eyes. « V€Y € gg — yes— l remember— her work —her plotting," he murmured. Then taming to the officers, he went on, with solemn earnestness: ' " Gentlemen, Clifford Kent is an innocent man. T know as well who tried to murder me that night as I know that God has restored me to speech and reason that I ,may give my testimony against that heartless siren. It was the woman my nephew married, Sir Arthur Wycombe'e sister, the woman now confined in that room Nay, sit still until I am done," he added, as one of the men arose, at the sound of a slight movement. •' She isrsecure in there; let her alone and hea" me out. She is the assassin ; I remember the night as if it were yesterday. I was in my library, lying on the sofa, bnt not asleep. The door opened, and a tall figure, wearing a black mask,

came in. 1 sprang up and grappled it, and tore away the mask, and I saw her face — just like the face of the picture. In my surprise I reeled back, and then she drove the dagger to the hilt in my side. " The next thing I can remember is seeing her at my bedside, sitting by me — I knew her in an instant as my son's murderess and my assassin. But, gentle men, I could not speak a word or lift a finger. Great Heavenl" he cried, with a shudder, " you don't know what I have suffered! I only wonder that I have lived through it all." The perspiration stood in great heads on his forehead, and his hands trembled. Betty poured oat a glass of cordial and held it to his lips. He drank it, and went on: •• A few hours ago I heard her laugh —a devilish laugh, and the sound seemed to break tho spell that was on me. I moved— and felt that I could speak. But 1 lay still and watched her — I saw her put the poi3on in my cvp — and she put it to my lips, an<l told me to ' drink it and die!" , Madamej I don't know your name," he added, with a touch of his old abruptness.; "< but go to that cabinet there — touch tbe spring below, and take out the picture, you will find." Betty obeyed without a word, and bringing the picture, which was in an oval ebony frame, she placed it before him. "Gentlemen," he said, solemnly, "that woman lured ray poor boy ihto marrying her, and when she found she could not get hold of my fortune, she murdered him, shot him dead in his bed with he air-gun. I found that picture in t 1 room where my son's body lay, and 0 have kept it all these years, hoping t ( find her. I have found her at last Officers, look at that picture, and then go into the next room, and look at your prisoner." The men looked at the pictured face, creamy white, with bands of raven hair, arid queer gray eyes — a face once seen never to be forgotten. Wise little Betty said not a word, and they turned slowly toward the locked! dressing-room. Thoy found it dark and silent and filled with a peculiar odor, and' prone upon the floor lay the stately figure of Sir Arthur Wycombe's , sister. 'They jealled.her; she made no an9werC/ Ihoy raised her, and the little crystal bottle fell from her nerveless hand. It was empty now, '< and Edith - Wyeombe was dead."* */ (to bb coktihubd.)