Margaret Fane; or Snares Unseen.

Timaru Herald, Volume XIIIC, Issue 14221, 11 June 1910, Page 1 (Supplement)

Margaret Fane; or Snares Unseen.

CllAPl~il IX. ROUTED AM) Pl'T TO FLIGHT. Under Mrs. Fairk-gn's reign at Willowby Park breakfast was always at a fcxeU and early hour, and, despite innovations, this rule was rigidly adhered to. Edgar and George occasionally made their appearance when the meal was half over, being as lazy as they .were long, according to Agatha. On this particular morning gloom pervaded the countenances of three out of the four at table, Mrs. Fairlegh nursing her wrath on the subject of Margaret Fane, and her husband sharing her sentiments. As for Edgar, lie tittered not a syllable, keeping his eyes downcast. "The sky is cloudy this morning." fchserved Mr. Herrick. cheerfully regarding a:i overcast firmament: but this remark, as well as others, fell flat as melted lead, and brought no response. According to custom. Mr. and Airs. Fairlegh left the. friends to "dawdle over" the meal as long as it pleased them; and George drew a breath of relief. ' "What is the lajtest crime in the calendar?" he began. "You and I, who ' will strike sooner than speak, and speak sooner than think, and think sooner than pray.' don't appreciate the presence of the wise as we should."

"I am glad we are left alone." said Edgar, slowly.

"So am I. The presence of grim Fates always snnils niv appetite. What ] the dickens have you been doing now?" "I have to ask ym: several things. Herri--'-:. The socner you and I come i to a distinct understanding the better." Herrick leuimd back in his chair, ! Furveving his friend with. brows uplift-; : "Tr"-u you k-d better '-erin askin™. ' }>•* said: and Willowby fired his first 1 shot. "•Did vou know of Margaret Fane's tear'-'age?" "D : d I know? Do I know? What is P ?" "D'd von know of her marriage before I d : d ?" "Yes." reolied Herrick, promptlv; "but who told vou that interesting fact?-" '"Margaret herself—you do not deny it?" '•What is there to deny? Besides jitra : nst liT word vou wouldn't take ir.v Bible rath. I might deny it until I was bliek in the fa"e, and the thin:: would be the same in your eyes—not the face, the assertion, whatever it ■was." "Y'nt were told bv Margaret herEeif?" "Just so. Be r o-e vou saw her." "And yet." said Edgar, indignautlv. "vou could act as you did —you could jillow- me to write x j > her. you conl 1 listen to all rav confidences, and hopes, and plans f£'or the future, laughing in your heart at my vain hopes. You told me onc3 that I should some day _ lose faith, in my fe'dows, and you have tarn-lit vs the letter lesson. Whv. j! Herrick was silent, perhaps believing that power and strength escane with words: and Edgar resumed his angry interi-ocations.

"YA'hv did not yon undeceive me? "Wbv did you allow :ne to enter into Seihv's hn'us" unprepared? I understand now whv you were not surprised and started on seeing Margaret. But, if you hnd warned me, vou might have lost a lav.ch at or-e nhase of h"msn weakness. " Why 'lid you do it? AYhat was vr.i-r n-.oT-'ver"

"Well, really." replied Herrick with a sbruGr. "your own explanation of my nn lives is so just r.i-d true thatl dou'i need to add a word. You understand me ihcroiinhiv. Go on." "Margaret"told me that -die m-arr : -d ruck- the de : rs : -ui that I wa= (ii"(l. Some person had told her tile lie. She would "not give me the name, but 1 er manner to-day implied that the fn'Jse-b'-od came from vou. Do vou deny ] that charge " ' Herrick rose, yawning and stretching himself. ' "_ I "I never denied anvthiiur in my life." j he said. "People who believe charges atrainst me are hardly worth carina about; people who don't need no denial fren me." "I extK-cted bette' from you. Herrick. "We were a long tiu-.e." "Wore." reneated Herrick with emnbas's. "Is if pessdf'* for friendship to exist fl'fer this, possible for me to trust you after r de; : -;-.-.t!on .-=u cruel! AYhv you came between Margaret and me I do nor. understand." "P; rhnpn it didn't s-dt ivy book .to hav-a von married." reniicd Herrick rt--flecrVtby: "however, as Mrs. Selbv h:-c-. exnhdncn evervthir-cc else- to your sati.-fac.ion. sunnose you ask her' to '-Tear up that mystery also." •■•You are and were candid enough "'■'■Tt \*hi.~"(i paid."' said Herrick rdrilv. "Other -■:■■". sound their own pr.-r-- 5-i .-.•■•.•t : im:dly ih.-'f I knew you y<-::!,] find oht.s-."- nove'tv in a man who bit-s"lf." "I'ntil y, =-r.-d--. !I»rriek I be'ie-cd ih'ii p-'-e friendship kept you b-s-.de me "' "Hal: t'-'-r". 1 ' interrupted the -other. *'T have ali'-'.ved .".ivicus curs to snarl. 'sir-i'.".'-' atxer'ire. and n't c!>n<i'es.c-_;'d to kick ti-em: riming from yon it's ouite another tiling. If you wsnt K» to rome-rboi- thit you have a door, my memory i< i'<wl enough." "It is better for us to nart for a time." "Verv well. T rooep- mv dismissal. T b.ave only one reg-et. that I leave vou that bll'd-.ted vour opening manhood. th-T now—-"' '"-ton! If vp'i mean Margaret "' "I -hi. Let there be no mistake there."'

■■•Thai : s rnc'di. I will not h.=ar .-., word against ri-e one being whom 11 sti!' dare trust."' Herrick buurhed. He had wal'r.c-d down the ioiiir room, r.nd his hand was on the doer ere Edgar a'-ain s»>c,ke, in £ voice that was net unite steady. "It is said that time he-Is ev-ry j wound. There mav cmr.e a when '• we can fordve each other, and in your | return •" I ••Peturn " repeated Herrick. looking j •over his shoulder, and speaking in lis wo--=t drawl, "thank you. no. N. t i •while there's a r->ad to be mended or | a c-'-ssinii swent." i The door closed. aM he was gone. Vnstnirs. he glanced round the rooms., smilimr. I •"Mrs. Er.irlegh." he s-.id. "you may j Tjav" vour nursfv now." I His" Indian life had taught h-m -economy of Uu:g:v_-e. A battered valise, oh-stered over with ilVgih'e r-:iiway "labels, was s.on r.a.l'-i. and then he surveyed h : s boxes of T trophies, ■until "an idea occurring to him. lie called Jack and Gracie, and the next moment «'ss on his knees displaying the hidden treasures. "These are yours. Jack." 1 ~ srid. "and Gracie must have the and "bawls, and bang'es to dress her dolls. Here are the keys, too. Turn everyiirnur out."' C'esin-r tho door of cc-nr.rn'cat'ui horwce,rtke two rooms. he 1.-f- t'-e children t- themselves, stoically finisshing his work. He halted hv the window as though Vhe beautv <•<" -'i- s-en- had oHv struck Vdm hot.-.' AYh-i shall say wh-i a resur-r-X-tion took ~l—e o r by-m- acts ~f TnV'tT-1 -Ir-as-r. s. <~ 1.-iK- f or.:ntt«u vorc?<?. ru the M sand - : fi-.s ;';at <-;• -Ve the of He? P-,d Mrs l--i----t-->n-h e~neT"d she wl'l hav> h-d a iSoui.lo- r -Te!l : j not in Gath. <3eorge Herrick was crying.

.T-//.V r»'" T i" - a-i ugly Wtle hr'ou-'e Mol' with. t~- hearts, as George 10--'-"d '> '""'i"" T '"' ;1 ""*■' '" s IfcßWwell. They had .hardly time to

nsivcr in, and ho djMurtcd' with a. 'i»' ; .'4, out ijuiiL,.- I'.Miijih. and :iii i'.l which Sii-clftißl imnstefl.

"Aii> you wanting t'i stay here. sir?" isked toe lanrllont. "For one 111:4111, perhaps. I am not

sure. • Jieing provided with a room, he unlocked the valise, and took out an old pocket-book, in which were a packet oi' letl. :s. ins.-rihed with Virgil s hackneyed opinion «f woman —"Variuin et nituabi'.o semper foemina." "Margaret, my pearl, 1 ' lie said, "it may be that i hold tiie trump card yet. 1 hate to use anything even approaching threats to a woman., and but for the promise given to an old man now dead and buried, I should let things take their course. Here, Margaret, are your low-letters written to ins before Edgar appeared on the scene. If I •gang wanly.' I shall triumph yet." Then he rang for pen and ink and wrote the following note: — "'There lias been a split.in the camp. I must and will see you. Shall I call up-ni you this afternoon? To-morrow will nor do. I know what giving you time might do. Au revior." Having closed and directed this, he went in search of a nuisancer and found a grinning Hodge. ''You know where Seiby, manager of the Tron. lives!- Very well. Take this note and give it to Mrs. Solbv. "Wait for au answer, and go like the wind." About an hour after the messenger returned with a letter Mr. Herrick lost no time in opening and reading. '•'l cannot possibly see you at the time and in the way you ask. My husband is at home, unwell. I can get out th;s evening, and will meet von on the cliffs bv "Windy Hill. Vault has happened ?" Hr-rrii-k 110,-ided silenilv: then added this rode t.. the oth,r L-t'i.-rs a id calmly waited the unpointed time. After Herrick had left him. Edgar went into his lihrarv. tb>'owing himself v.varilv into a chair. His head ached so that he could scar -civ hold it up, and tlrs overwhelming physical pain was added to the most acute mental sorrow: until recently the fates had been kind to him : he had led a hapm- life, with all the pleaser >s that wealth could bnv. surrounded by friends. His first grief had been the death of his father: but. his mi'-d had been speedily diverted from that by the excitement and noveltv of his life in India. Now. the wound became a fresh one —the blow seemed only now to descend. It had taken him five years to realize what a father's less meant. This is no new experience in 'human sorrow. A friend or a relative dies, and much though we mourn we have no time no dwell upon the loss; something distracts, events hurry noon us, or the I void is less keenly felt than we had imagined it would be. But there comes: an hour when some tr'al or some calamity reveals the real meaning of that death, when we say, '"how different would all be now if he had lived." and tin's feeling filled Edgar's heart with a yearning so strong and keen that he almost fancied the long silence of death would be broken, and the familiar voice answer him in counsel and comfort. Xot the dead but the living came to him. His cousin entered, giving him a quick searching glance. ■'Are you ill, Edgar;-" he asked. "T think I must he," he replied. "John, do you remember how my poor father died ?'' "You are not likely to die in that way." replied Fairlegh; even his selfish heart moved to pity the pale young fellow; "don't fear that. Edgar." "I have heard that sudden deaths run in families sometimes, riot that I have any fear. T remember Herrick tolling me once that if I took my griefs as 1 took my joys. I should either die of a broken heart or go mad." "Herrioic." said John, catching at the name: "the children have been telling Agatha f'-t he has gone away? Is •'-at bo Have you quarrelled with him!-'' "He has gone," replied Edgar hri-fiy. "T am. glad of it." said John warmly. " 'lf thy right eye offend thee pluck it out.' I am glad you have had courage to send away one who was simply your evil genius—who thwarted or nreven'ed every generous impulse " "That is enough." interposed Willowby; "our dispute is between ourselves. John, and T will not hear anything against Herrick from you. There. is a. text you are very fond of quoting. •Judge not. that ye be not judged.' and. as you know nothing about the cahse of this separation, let me ask you to apply it to yourself." < Thus for another half-hour did Edgar obtain peace. At the end of that time Mrs. Fairlegh entered, followed by her husband, and eyed her cousin scornfully. He had taken up a hook in th.3 hope that a pretence of reading would . he some defence, but this was a vain delusion. "Would you like some tea. Edgar?" asked Fairlegh, not unfeelingly. "•"so. thank you. 1 really don't j want anything." "I suppose." said Agatha, "that the only p'laee where you can take anything is in Mrs Selby's house?" "So vim have found that out, have you:-"" observed Mr Willowby slowly. "Yi s. J have found that out, to my very great pain and surprise, Edgar. How anyone who ought to be a gentleman, and who professes to be a Christ tian, can go on with that kind of i"\Yill you have the goodness to tt!' me v.-'iat you mean by • that kind of j thing?''" asked Edgar, with ominous I quiet, and John Fairlegh gave his wife a warning look that was thrown away. "You are very innocent, Edgar, very. I must say. Rut as lam not Margaret Fane's hu=band you cannot dupe me." F.'lgar brought his closed hand down on the table with such force that every , article upon it shook. "By heavn. vou are enough to drive ( a man to the devil with vour infernal j Ir.:iuc'idoos and insinuations. God'. Ho'..- I have been Tortured anion" vou!" "An <-t!i bet"-re t»v "biklrpn." • shrieked Mrs. Fairlegh. but Edgar Wi>L lowbv was gone. Th° outer door slammed, and they beheld him striding - ! down the avenue with the mien and , •■ the ■-estures of a maniac. -I And for the last time he turned his steps towards Selby's cottage.

rTT ■* PTT.M? V. "DARKER THE m,ACK SHADOAY3 EAIJ,." A'"'-"n AYillowby arrived at the cot-ri-M lie was. to his surnrises. admitted bv S- lb- him=»lf. "Ab.'Mr. AYillowby. gc/-d dav." said 1-e: "-dad to see you. Tt isn't often I'm hc-e at this time, but vou see it isn't often that there's anything ailing me." "YV-i are not looking very well." -e----o'ied Eduar, as thev entered the parlocr where Stenhen h--'l apparently been ami-sir-: h.-mse'f with a rosewood desk and :> bunch of keys. "I'm not v.n to the mark to-day, sir. sure enon'di, you looking better yourself. Another chill, maybe'-" "No. I am inclined to return to Ine-i. do yiiu know." "Is that so? It seems a pity, unless you b.ave left your heart there." "I have not done that," replied Edgar briefly. Stephen nut awav his keys with a jinele. "I'll let this .-lone n bit." he said: "t"s an o'd desk of Margaret's, and she'd lost tb- key ef it. so T to-d.- jt into mv bead t"-day to try and find her one. It's been forgotten a In'-; wb : le." "Is Airs. Selbv at home?" asked Ed"-u\ "No. She v""i o" f abo-it i"df en hour nun." reol'°d Selbv. climbini "n t-> - flniir to re'-'ace the desk u-icn +, -o s'-elf he had tiken : t f-mi. "She won't be b-ck for a l- : i. S<- was no- ;•■.; to take some brofl- to ol'l G--inrv j Brown, Jind Susan's off to -hurch, so

]'m keeping hov.se, you spe. Clad of your 'company, sir."

I iien there came a crash and a smash. The desk had slipped from Selby's hands, and the necessity for a. key no longer existed. "Well, butter—lingers!" cried Stephen, contemplating his work ruefully. "Send for. me when you want anything broken, Mr Willowby." He went on his knees to gather up the scattered contents of the desk, and the first thing he took up wass a photograph, of which he looked, first carelessly, then curiously, then suspiciously, with a rapid glance at his companion, who was gazing through the window, vaguely wondering if after to-day he should again see that garden. * The position turned his profile towards S.-lhy, who, to his utmost dismay, was finding its far-simile in the portrait he held, lie lifted desk and "all to the table with an expression not unlike fear. A shadow of presentiment was upon him.

When Willowby looked round, wondering a little at the silence. Stephen was reading a letter with the most profound attention, a letter addressed to himself, and dated the night of his engagement to Margaret Fane "M- Dear Mr. Selby.—T do'not know how to reply to you. Your pronosal, so unexpected, so generous. has quite overwhelmed me. and I reallv' do not know what answer to give. "I am going to tell you my story and ask your advice, knowing vour goodness and wisdom.

''Five years ago, before entering Mrs Rligh s service. 1 was governess in a family living at Streti'ord. and there became acquainted with Mr Edgar V'llw'-v. „„h- 5 ,,„ ( ,f .Mr. Willowhv of WMb.wbv Park. This gentleman 'was good enough to express a great rsieem and admiration for" me. and eventiiallv lie .sought los father's consent to an eng-" r ement between us.

"Naturally Mr. AYillowby had higher views for his sen. and ver>opposed this, lie considered Ids soil too yoi-u.r to know his own mi»d, and believed that the fancy would pass awav in time.

"Vr. (Odgar was indeed young, but I he'icve he was very fond of nv-. 1 refused of course to engage mvself to him without the consent of his father, and. as the viiun" eent'.eman was verv much grieved and downcast, his father resolved on sending him abroad for five vears' travel.

"During that time no correspondence with mew-is to he permitted, but ■f at tho end of the five years we were both U'lehiimed in feeling and affection, all obstacles to our union should he withdrawn. "On those coiiditions Edgar AYillowbv was about to leave England, when his father died suddenly of apoplexy. ".A man less honourable would have held the ">-nniiso as nothing, no doubt, but Mr. Kdgar Willowhv regarded it as stdl bindinir. and resolved to obey the wishes of his father dead as he would th'i'-'e of his father living.

"Leaving his home to the care of a cousin, he went abroad. Nearly five vears have gone by. and I have not heard of him. Dear Mr. Selbv " This was all, but it was more than enough. He put the letter down with a shiver, reive-nbering how his wife had led him to believe that AA'illowby was a stranger to her. He trembled like a girl at the presence of a horrible and nameless fear. Then with a sudden seting of his teeth, a dogged I'll-know-the-worst look, t-ok up a second letter crushed in the folds of the first, just as Margaret had thrust them away on that bygone night. Tt was the letter written by George Herrick, and the reader's face darkened and distorted, the veins on his temples swelled. Small need to glan"e at that other. signed "Your own devoted Edgar AYillowby." He knew that he had been befooled, and he uttered an oath that caused Edgar to start u\>. "Selbv. wh"+ is +be mittor?" "You damned vdlain. dare vou ask?" Never en anv face had Edgar seen such a '.laze <•.•" ii:,.v?. E-- SO me moments he actually believed Selbv in-

"1 know you now!" eri«-d Stephen, striking the letters with his clenched fist: '"J know now what brought you here, with vour sneaking courtesy, curso you! And my wife, vile liar as she is "

"It's false!" cried AA'illowby, snringing forward, and the other seized him by the throat. "By heaven. T'll strangle you!" he said, through his teeth, hut AYillowhv shook him off.

'"Man. are yon mad?" he demanded, pale with passion. "No, I'm not mad! I'm finding my senses now! AYhv. the very stones er : "d out ag- : nst her. and I wouldn't believe it! She lied to me, lied to me, lied to me! Margaret. Margaret. Marrjarot!"

At ev-ry of the namo he flum r his arms above his head, and stood staring at the ground. "Get out of my sicht!" he cried, fur-onslv ti--nin"- on the vouii" man. '"1I»'-e—take these letters—l-'ke her, they're '"ore T- oers "than mine! Come lmr-e nrr n ; n , and, by Him that made me, I'l' i,;;| vr ,„i»

AVhen he turned again to the desk, rearl'iitj one by one every letter in it —all Edgar's boy-sb enistles, bnmminsr over w-th "dear httle love-words," ii-.ai"' in evident re'dy to others written hv M'.irrriret. ea'-h one adding fresh fuel to the fire of anger raging in her husband's heart. A locket, a ring, a volume of poetry, "with fondest love from E A\".. in remembrance of a most l"t)'iy <l-v." r n-os«, too, 1-e s-w. an' l then with bloodshot eyes glared round the room. A moment later and the little boweh* had planned with so much pride and pleasure a few month was a wreck, and he was trn"--plin"' un'ler foot the ir"en leaves and bright blossoms that had ador-ed it. Stunned horrified, and bewilde-ed, E''-ar AYillowhv strode away. AYhat had happened, 'what had c-ussed Selby's frenzy, he knew not: all was ch-os. and on every hand danger and calam-

All at once he the parvers forced ii'iini him by Sel'"-. and which torn and crumpled, he still held. Tbes" contained the explanation. He had been walking on heedlessly toward the sea. by mere force of habit, but now he halted, seating himself on a fragment of stone, and from beginning to end he read that cautious letter which alluded to him with almost slighting coolness, and which revealed at least one fact — not through belief in his death had Margaret become the wife of Stenheii Selbv. And then, as Stephen had done, he r»ul George l-Terrick's letter:— "My beloved Margaret.—That harebrained id-ot has accepted bis father's terms, and will hang his harp on a willow tree, and he off abroad. "He has selected as travelling companion your humble servant. Tremble not O, rare, pale Margaret, T shall not tell your trusting innocent of the gracious farewell that will take place between us. I shall not tell the young fool, who holds you far above rubies, that you are the queen of coquettes, that your low sweet tones and downcast eves are as much put en as is Mrs. Hall's rou"e. These truths I sb-dl keep to myself—l think. "If I should in an incautious moment !>etrav my admiration for yon. I shall ii"f tell truth, that until young AYillwby showed Ids admiration for you in an unmistakable manner you encouraged me. and only threw me over for my poverty's sake. A'on had two pfrin"". to your how. and if you chose th" silken "T> instead of the common tw-"" small blame to you.

"Edgar and I im pig-sticking torotlinr. Tf lia is ki|l»d you will (war *-Mt he fell by mv baud, won't von? He ""ay provo'--" me into doing it by prnis'mr ym. AA'e shall see. -A'o.< wiuH nit crorape yourself +o hi-" w :M 'o'-t his f"+be-'s consent, would y,-... " Dnf.'ful "!-l T',,+ hnw fa*- vour conduct was regulated by your know-

lodge that the AYillowby entail had been broken, who shall sav?

"Mv manly tears -.ire at it again as 1 turn to tho last slice of paper. Five, years—and at the. end of tliem 1 may come home, leaving Ivlgar buried in the jungle to lind you married or engaged. Or Edgar may return," leaving me in the jungle. So "much the better, perhaps, and you will not mind. "So I conclude, force of habit compelling me still to sign myself your own

"George Herrick." At last the silver Mokaima-veil was lifted, and the deformity it had hidden revealed.

Eur this woman he had opposed a most kind and loving father, for this woman exiled himself live wearv years —for her, false to his friend, false to himself, false in everything. "With what painful distinctness did ho remember the mild expostulation of his father, the wise counsel, the warning coming not with the stern authority of a parent, hi-t w-'fli the prudent tenderness of a friend. He remembered that he had thought himself hardlv used, unfairly treated, when the five" years' probation had been proposed. Xmv he k-i-ew with what generous self-denial, what loving wisdom, his father had consented to part with his onlv son. he could imneiue through what uain and regret had that decision been arrived at.

He rose slowly, straining his eve? towards ihe sea." and then be beheld a woman's figure on the cliff, a black sdhouette against the grev of sea and skv.

It was Marga-et Selbv who b-d come to kee-i her aooointment with George Herrick. (To be Continued.)