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Taranaki Herald, Volume LV, Issue 13922, 29 March 1909, Page 6

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By HEADON HILL.

Published by Special Arrnnisoin'Mn.

Aulor of "The Kiss of tho Enemy," "Tho Sentence oi the Court,'' "Tii ■ Ocean King Mystery," "Mjlljoi" oi" MisehietV "TJic ()m« Who Saw. etc., etc. , [Copyright.] CJIAPTKR L. •AT THE HLYTHE ARAiS. It was 'a balmy spring evening t>;waids Uio close 'of April, when tL" monih of smiles and tears seemed to ]iav<> outurown its earlier iicklencs and to have .settled down into a spoil of open weather. The good folk m th.j pastoral village of ]\Lonks«oocl behoved m the adage of "early lo bod -v ld t>ar ' to' r4se"— of neceteily, ior t.ie me.., part. 13v tho time tlu- church clock benan to \\lk«ozo and croak, preparatoi v to striking the hour of toil, such hghv as remained in the cottage window shone from the upper floors. The exception was the inn, the a;.ciont.and comicrtablo hostelry wlucv occupied a post of vantage abmtmg o:i tho high-road that skirted tho viiiap greon, and rt whose tall sign-post wuii its swinging shield was a landmark V) wfarv wayfarers and convivial neigh hours alike. From the open door oi "The Blythe Arms" there streamed a shaft of "yellow light as far as the eld stono horse-trough across tho road, while on either hand the bar-par lo a r and the tap-room shed a more chastened gleam from behind their rod-cur-tained windows. The night, though still and imo, wmoonless, and in the dark shadows of i clump of poplars on a waste patch i;t the roadside, fifty yards beyond the inn, a man was standing. That he hiii selected the position with a view t> concealment was evident from Ins attitude; yet there was nothing in, it suggesting fear or a sense of guilt. Theio was no hint of an intention to tak« to flight in case of discovery. It w.-p as though the man had planted hinisol.' there for the purpose of, himself unseen, watching the inn door on which his straining gaze was steadily fixed. The premonitory wheezmgs in ti.e church belfry -across the green ended in the first mellow note of the clock as it began to boom out the hour. •If old John is as strict as he used to be they'll soon come tumbling out, the 'Vatcher* told himsfelf with an expectant smile. . - And, verifying his prediction, before the fifth stroll of the clock had pulsed oil the quiet air, a figure emerged froii the inn doorway, and another and another followed, till a group of seven or eight persons were clustered m tuc shaft oMiirfrt, only to be dissolved a minute later amid a chorus of "goodnights,"'as its component parts separated on their homeward wmf. J - One-more minute passed, and yet another figure appeared in the doorway— the portly figure of a man who did net crime beyond the threshold, but stocd as though enjoying the sweet scent of the syaeinths and wallflowers, while listening to the receding footsteps of tlie departing- customers. At last he toolt a step backwards, and began to dose the heavy oak door, but before he liad got it shut the watcher from the trees had come/running up. "Now then, off with\vou!" said theinnkeeper, not troubling to look at him, and continuing to push the aoor to. "It's past closing time." But the other had deftly inserted his foot in the aperture. "Is that the way you welcome a Blythe to 'The Blythc Arms/ John?" he laughed, quietly. Th© door was slid open, and John Benjafield, after one swift scrutiny of him-, who sought admission flung \t wi<&s still. "Mr. Gorman!" lie exclaimed in_ an a#estmck whisper. "Why-^tfEy, sir, I tliought you were at \ the other side of the world." Norman Blythe stepped mto tho passage, arid helpfed the innkeeper shut and bar the door. "So I was till a month ago; John," he replied cheerily. "I only reached London yesterday, and, though I parted from my father in anger I could not keep away from Mofikswootl. "; l have come to you first, to-learn hW^things are at tho 'Cha.se' there is any chance of peace there. I want nothing else from my kin, John. In two years, more by lurk than i judgment, I have made over a million of money." The inn-keeper's broad countenance worked . strangely,, but he made no reply till lie had ushered his visitor into the snug bar-parlour to tho left of the passage. And even then he was not quick to speak, for he had to let his eyes feast on the young man's hand- | some sun-burned face and well-knit frame in glances of affectionate appeal. -• have- altered, Master Norman, so that no one who didn't love you would Jknow you." he said at last. "1 can't promise you much of a greeting up at the 'Chase,' but I'm main grateful to you for seeking 'nie first. It wrs but fitting that you should come to your old foster-father for the news.'' "Which reminds me that I have been a brute not to ask after my dear fop-ter-mother" said the returned .wanderer. "How is the good wife, John, and why isn't she sitting in the armchair by the fire yonder, totting up the day's receipts, as she always used to when you had cleared out the customers r" For answer John Benjefield pointed to a framed photograph ever toe mantelpiece, representing a newly-made grave smothered m floral wreatlii and croaws, "My Martha died eighteen month* ago, md that was toek the day alter the iuneral, 1 ' he replied, proudly, ye? with streaming eyeg. "Hardly room there was, as you see, sir, for all the flowers the neighbours sent to give her God-speed." Norman Hlythe was genuinely grieved at the news, and for a while the two sought comfort in talking of the kindly, comely woman who was gone, and of the manner of her going into the great unknown. It was a simple story enough of a clean and tender life lived unselfishly for< the good of those shr loved, and truly though her husband had mourned her the grief , of th ■•> younger man was- quite as poignant and sincere.

Six and twenty years had passed since Martha Benjafield, bereaved rf her own child, had taken to her bosom the hour-old infant of Sir Bevys Blytho of Monkswood Chase, and had assu/igrd her sorrow by lavishing upon the moth erless little heir a wealth of affection that had sons down with her to the grave. All through his none too happy childhood Norman had broucrht hi" troubles to the innkeeper's wife, one? in his demands imon her lovo and syronthv had never been sent empty a\va v Th-"< bar-parlnvir at "The Blvthe Arms'' liid boon to him a haven whore ho hr ] found solace for tho neglect that h~< T boon Jiis lot r,niicl his father's riotou., excesses at the "Chaser" Arc! then tlioro had come a still dir' - or time, v/ho.n npglrot had licrnmp nr'

ivo dislike, •*>!<! Sir I. >vjs, -.Miy •loam. Juul tn^f-d iiis (U>rd uiic's vhi'iaj with luirshiu'ss . it.-n iiiMUiuiii'; ( i viuelty. Thon, iu< n> tJsan v\\^\ had ilu boy c\un\z, to cis i'vsteJ-iiioilu'i 1 . M'ckiii. .or ci/mifii tluu u.'vcr -i'niicd. :uul b> wry 1 'ice (,i (ti'lra^t i-amnisj, to ii.it th<«" f.-ihfr who I/ukU-h' d Ins \<,un^ liu^ with ii)isor\. JoJni li^'iijaiickl, too, It-vl luicUotl ins \mii>"s t:-iOi>-> in Hk path of th<> \oi\A\ v..iii iroa: the i;rcj: UMiM', and h.-id ' soct-nd place in th' u-uii'j, heiirt v-ravin;j; f-nly tor kindness. Norman Hl\ tho 'was hoir li^aily t( nothing but the. empty title, the entai] (,i tiu> estates iiriviu; 1 , Iktii cut ort in tho last o t <iK'iMtion, and the nvw nii.s tress of the "Chaw" had sum .siu-ci»-d-<>d in alienatinj; Sir ]k-\.s>'s liiVAonn^ i<^a;-d ior his t klof-t sen in hivcur o! hw cwn childre.i. Of tji<--" th.^v wen two, a hoy ai"! a. bn'l born .a a considerable interval, and there had cotv< a day kh-v.rtiy nitci Noiii'aa'.s twenty third birthday when his i'.^.tlior h.K 1 stormed rt him, Imldiu^. him <i,o foitl into tho \>orld pvMimK >• ard .-cv/inj that he wcxild Ira.c t.iO "(Ikuv ' to !n y(/im _,i j r :.on, P: ul. "Hut tliis ir, -.. id hoirin;>; o';mit youbollix so rich, '<-ir," said Henjal'ield c.i last." when ther hid t.-Jkc'd their til of thf dead wct-vm. "I* only th\ poo; Mathu weie lu-i\* to listen to ,- mi toil '« it! She a.s as i^rc-phosicl as inu"! that evil morning ulu-n you c:vr.< 1 dow> to sa\ good-bye. Don't you mind ho,. <ho hoartor.fd you wiih the pronu*: that you'd rind a gold mine in Axis tralia, and ccino ha.ck and :.:?.i;v you 1 sweetheart uiuli r \ our iat'ko.'s ver> noser" Norman laughed f;iilv. "My tleai fcotor-motiicr was v. rcr.^, aiui she war. ri^ht,"' he roipoinled. "1 did net nuikt my nionoy in Australia out ( / u';ld, hit' at the Cape cut <.(' draux.r.d .. Th.-re i' no mistake .ihout her v^rend shot though. Ii Mildred Jiarden is .'-till ii\ tho same mind 1 phall mc^t cort^inl^ mar-.s her, John, boforo i^ian.\ wer»U, are past, as near to my father's nn&o at j Monkswood Ciiurch atrt-s^ ti>" jrreen theie. And, what is more, unlrsn there is a reerncilici'ou the bride shall start for the ooivmonv from tlu> * 'Blythe Arms.'" " , "Who shall do that/ cesontpcl tlr hrdlord. eordmlh'. "Tliounh/ 1 ho add ed, his kin'llv face clmidiii^:. "I ri»-> doubt me if that pleasure won't ho de nied. Sir Hovys will warm towrtU you, 3[r. Xoruian, when ho logins th.°.l you will Ix? wealthy without his teav ings. It was that mad v wcman up ai the 'Chase' tiiat set him* on to disinheriting you, sir — for the sake of he? own brat."

But Norman, enlightened by a fullei knowledge, shook his head. A certair loyalty to the family name, if not tc the chief holder of it, had preventer him from disclosing, even to his triee 1 friends at the inn. tho tiue reason that had led ta his exile. His quarrel witlhis .father had been that the elcicrl; rake had in his cups insulted the beau tiful girl who Ly tlve misfortune of pov orty was governess to his half-sisto* Katie. If the vile words that hac 3 escaped Sir Bevys meant anything the? meant that he would view with jcilour spjte anj r wooer, be he son cr stranger who won Mildren Ha'don's favour. 'T have^ no {^oat hm>?s of makinp peace 1 with mv father," Norman answer cd. "But why do you call L.tdy BlytlK a mad woman, John ? Is that a figure of SDoech or sober fact?"

"It's true enough, though there's no thing very sober about it." tho^ innkeeper laughed griinlv. "Her ladyship is just a raving lunatic, confined to her rooms, with a brace of qualified attendants to look-ftfter her.", '/T^iat iaimws ( itide^d, though _on. the whole I anv-^pt surprised, 5t said Normar thoughtfully. "<Hiai Stepmother's excitao^ eccentricities had been the talk of the countrywide long Jbefore his departure. "Tell mo some more," he added. "How are things g<nng at th? 'Chase* generally, and, abovo all, i*Miss Harden there still? I have oomr back as nothing if fiot an oxpeet^int lover, John." (To l>e continued.)