LITERATURE. THE BLACK CROSS.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 5989, 26 July 1887, Page 1

LITERATURE. THE BLACK CROSS.

A NEW STORYi,

[Bx Hamilton Sbyjio-jjb.] (Auihoro!"TheSoarlet Cord," ''Newlyn/' "The' Old Grange," &c.) (published by Arrangement with ihc Author) (Continued.) Chapteb XIX. FACE TO FAOI. Ifc was with something like exultation that Loyola set out on Saturday mornfog to WoodhaU for the answer of Victim • Bumetfc. That answer he felt sure woulct be an acquiescent one ; for he knew she ] would rather sacrifice herself than her cousin. His soheme was to be crowned with success at last. What a brilliant future awaited him! As he thought of it and contrasted it with the insignificancy of his early life, he smiled sarcastically, and stretching himself to his full height, affectionately patted his chest, and with a firmer, prouder step walked on. So badseen a little and heard less of the ex-priest Prout— -from that insignificant ■weak man he had nothing to fear. Then his thoughts reverted to Caleb; were he to regain his senses who could say but that he might reveal his secret. Then those cursed papers lost by Philip— these would speak blackly against him in a British Court of Justice. While Loyola was /going his up-hill journey towards Woodhall, there were four persons there who were communing with eaoh other. They were Frout, Violet, Richard, and old Caleb Fisher. Caleb was comfortably ensconced in an arm chair as sane ac any of them. They were eagerly listening to him. "I was sitting in my own room," he was saying, " ana dosing, when suddenly I heard a low cry. I started up, but it never came a«ain, and I thought it was a fancy or a dream. I could not sleep after this ; so I rose and went towards tny maisfcer's room to make bum he had everything he wanted. Opening the door eoffcly for fear of wakening him, I entered and stood still on the threshold, for there was someone else in the room. I pressed forward and reoog- . nised Faither Fabri, Maister Richard's tutor; he was rubbing the blood off a long glittering knife. I looked towards the bed and I saw a line of red blood drip •—dripping on the floor and gathering into a pool. Then the whole affair flashed upon me; the priest had murdered my maister. With a cry I sprang forward and grasped him by the throat; we struggled, and poor I was overpowered. He thought first to kill me also, but changed his mind. He took a black eross — yes, the same you have there — and gave it to me." "'Swear for your life/ he said,. and 1 $wore." " Bat why did you not cry out P " asked Richard. "Because I could not; his eyes fascinated me — I could do nothing but obey him." " Ah, yes, I know," murmured Richard ■with a shudder ; " I have often felt the same." "He told me," continued Caleb, "to swear on the cross never to make known what I had seen under pain of eternal damnation and the utmost tortures of hell. I swore unto death that" — Caleb shuddered as he proceeded — "that should I break this oath heaven would smite me with all the plagues of earth, and make me an outcast among men— a blight and an eyesore to my friends and relations, and a curse to aIL "This awful oath I took, and then my senses left me. When I recovered I was alone in the room, and the moonlight was streaming in upon me and my poor dead maiater. I had something in my hand— it was the cross, and my hand was bleeding; the priest had tried to get it away, but something must have disturbed him, and lie ran away. I was unconsciously about to give the alarm when I remembered the oath, and I rose and orept out of the room into my own. Sleep did not come to me that night; I lay and tossed about, now imagining I saw the reproachful face of my maister looking on me, now repeating jx> myself the words of the dreadful curse. At last, as yer 'reverince said the last time you preached in our chapel for Faither Loyola, speaking of the early morning, you said: 'The dawn broke fitfully from the Eastern sky. Slowly, like an angel of light and hope, it came creeping and spreading its wings, bit by bit, over the fens. The far-away vapour began to heave and pulsate ■with life, and then to acather itself into long thin wreaths, which struggled and sprawled acrOBB the rich glow of the morning.' " "How do you so accurately remember the words of my sermon, Caleb ?'' interrupted Frout. "Well, yer reverince, I was cleaning up the gravel path, when I found a partly destroyed sheet of your sermon, which looked as if it had been used to light your cigar, and I remembered it was part of what you had preached to us the Sunday before." " Well, you are right Caleb, and it proves conclusively that your memory has not altogether left you." Caleb in an undertone continued : "I whether that strange dim light f into the chamber of ma dead maister; if so, his face would be lit up, and the red pool of blood, lying by his bed side, I wondered if that blood was still flowing. Then clang went the big bell in the chapel summoning the household to prayers, and I knew the murderer would face the stern eye of God in mock worship. I thought with a shudder that he mast be a devu in human shape wandering . the earth for the spiritual destruction of man." The old man ceased, and silence fell ■ upon the little company who had with suspended breath and blanched faces listened to the dreadful tale. Prout broke the silence by asking, "And what more ?" Caleb shook his head ; he could remember no more. Silence prevailed again, broken only by the jerking tones of "The Last Rose of Summer" aa it was played monotonous! j by the organ-grinder below. Presently clang went the door bell, startling the little company. # Instantlj Violet turned paler, and looking at hoi faithful teaoher and friend, said fearfully and in a whisper, "Ho comes ! This is Fabri." " My daughter and you, my son," saic the good man, " leave me to deal with th( murtierer. You had best retire, mj children. Caleb, you stay here, orrathej come down with me and remain at the bael of the screen before tho door." Fabri meanwhile was ushered into another apartment. " This," thought he " looks like business." He listened t Yes, there were footstep coming, but rather heavy to be Violefa He stepped to the door, but it opened t< present to his view such an insignifican being as the ex-priest Frout, followed ty Caleb, who hid himself behind the screen Loyola stepped back a little disconcerted hemmed, coughed, and said " Good morn ing, Dr Prout." Prout bowed and Btalke< into the room, fumbling for something ii the deep pocket of his coat tail. It seemei greatly to discommode the quiet man Loyola smiled, and, approaching Proul " Bxouse me disturbing you fishing v the lost article from your pocket, but I at somewhat in haste, and await here b appointment with Miss Violet—would yo kindly inform her that I'm in a hurry." " No, sir J lam not disposed to do bo«

! " How bo P" ■ " Beoause you can have no interview i with that lady. I wUI settle business -with you." | "Indeed! you must have grown wonderfully energetic and intelligent— bat what is Miss Burnett's answer to a question I put to her P " "She, in the most positive manner, scornfully rejects your offer «£ marriage." " Well, Bir, be good enough to tell her that the alternative which I offered her is lost, and the other will follow far sooner even than she dreams." "Which in plain language means— t-" " The fall of Bichard," hissed Loyola. "Not quite so faßt, Fabri. You have lost this wick now, and formerly you lost your best trump card. Bad chance that for a villain to get the game." "What do you mean, Trout— speak { plainly, or I shall—" Prout nervously grabbed at something in V-lie coat-tail pocket, and evidently became nw?re excited. "What do you mean— speak out I say ?" thundered Loyola. "Jmean that you are a villain and a murderer. See! do you recognise these, your lt>Bt papers, and their value in our hands. Turn round, Bee there, behind the screen is Caleb Fißher in his sound senses. Have yoo, not good reason to fear his evidence? But that is not all; I have more—" Loyola g-ww ashy pale, with his eyes rivetted upon "the loat papera." He made a movement towards Prout; but almost instantly out came a revolver from the said coat-tail pocket of the Doctor. " Stop where yov are, Loyola Pabri ! You see lam prepartvl. You cannot so easily impose on me with an oath and a curse ; and you had bettei?Hsten to me throughout. Only for one consideration you have not been handed over tt> the police, and that is the strange and wonderful fact of you turning out to be Sir Richard's uncle. For this consideration, then— to save the family name — you at? allowed to escape justice, provided you leave the country within four and twenty hours ; if not the common hangman must Aiave his fee. Take, then, the chance you do not deaerve, and obey the better dictates o$ your conscience to devote the remainder of your miserable life in severe pennance amd contrite repentance. Now, are you prepared to accept my offer ?" For a' few seconds the two men stood eyeing each other like two rival tigers — one conscious of strength, the other at bay. At length Fabri advanced in a supplicating manner. " Ah ! Brother Prout, you have me fairly in a box, and truly the downfall of Eichard is now not so near aa I calculated." "Oh! how often I'homnie propose et Biev, dispose." Is not the hand of Providence over us all?. And how curiously the destiny of each is fulfilled. " Yes, it is noiv my turn to accept an alternative, and I freely and gladly avail myself of your goodness in offering me a day longer for repentance." He came nearer to Prout, who wa3 overjoyed at the happy turn affairs were taking ; but lo ! with a sudden spring and grasp Loyola gained possession of both the pistol and the papers, and, levelling it straight at Prout, burst out— " Ha ! ha ! ha ! One step, wise brother, and you are dead ; one whisper, and you will the next moment have eternal communion with the blest. You are quiet. He! he! Not ready for heaven yet? Well then, remain, and learn to mind your own business. I am not caged yet; and while I live, tell Miss Violet, Richard will be in perpetual danger." With the levelled pistol he slowly walked backwards towards the French window opening out on the lawn ; he was retreating out the same way, when suddenly the swarthy face of an Italian woman, who had witnessed the whole scene through the open adjacent window, dipped down, and Gliding behind his back, thrust a long agger into him up to the hilt, piercing the left ventricle of the heart. He gave a low, sharp, painful ory, and staggering round, fired at the woman. Ho saw her features and recognising it, a grim, sorrowful, half pathetic, half agonising expression flitted across his own face j he feebly cried out " Oh ! Laura, Laura," and dropped down dead. To which the woman responded, "Oh! Pietro, Pietro \" and swooned away, bleeding profusely. (To be continued.)