A GREAT WRONG, Or, The Mystery of Black Hollow Grange.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10018, 14 April 1910, Page 2

A GREAT WRONG, Or, The Mystery of Black Hollow Grange.

CHAPTER XVIII -Continued. Ishbel sits for an irslant dumb and stunned. A great clattering of feat filis the corridor without, and ever and anon she hears those wild, unearthly noises. She looks up wilh ashen cheeks and dilating eyes. 'Where am I?' she asks ui a husky whisper. 'For Heaven's sake, tell me what sort of a ulace this is, and what creatures thosa are who make such awful noisas?' 'Well, ycu may as well know firs'; as last,' Nurse Ruth reulics. 'They are mad folks, and this is a madhouse!' Ishbel looks at her for a full minute, her lovely eyes wide with horror. "A maclhouae,' she rerjeats in a slow, awed whisper, as a hudden thought strikes her, and drive 3 the very blood from her hearc. 'Oh, merciful heavers, they have put me in a madhouse because I married Arthur!'

She throws up her two hands, utters a stifled cry, and falls forward into Nurse Ruth's arms in a deathlike'swoon. 'Well, Donald, what news do you bring?' questioned Doctor Nugent from the little table where he was busily engaged preparing powders for Ambrose, who lay in ihe adjoining chamber, not dead, but utterly unconscious.

v Donald sat down and began to rub his horny hands above tne biazbg hearth.

I 'Bad enough news, doctor,' he replied. 'They couldn't ijnd the laps, Ishbel, and the squire died yesternight, just aftet the dark.' I 'Gone is. he? Well, I knew he'd I never rally again, when I left the house,' the doctor answered. 'Lord bless us, Donald! what a power of mischief these fair-faced, rattlebrained girls bring about!' 'Aye, aye, sir!' responded Donald heartily. 'lf that girl had remained at home instead of running oif to her ruin, poor Melville would be alive to-day.' | 'And to think of Ambrose, my poor, handsome lad,' the mother began to whimper, 'as might have been her husband this morning—' 'Hush!' interrupted Donald, sternly. 'D'ye want such a flash giri for the lad's wife, dame? Better for him to be lying as he is than yoked to the likes of h?r. Do you think the lad'll get} over it, doctor?' the father continued, his voice unsteady. 'Certainly he will. Who ever heard of a broken arm, and a cracked craniuir.. and a stab or two, Killing a big' six footer like Ambrose? He'll rouse up after a bit. Now, I'd give a pretty penny to get at the bottom of this mystery. What could have been going on at the old manor?-And what took Ambrose there that night?' Donald shook his head, and his wife whispered in an awed voice: 'The manor's haunted, doctor, and it were all alight the night o' Ambrose's wedding. The murdered lady comes back ' 'Pooh! pooh! you silly woman. There was something besides ghoats at the manor; it took flesh and blood to give the lad them ugly holes in his side. How did the old place look this morning, Donald—all quiet.* 'All quiet, sir,' replied the seaman, adding in a sort of awed whisper, 'hut the dog's there yet!' 'lhe doctor heeled in his chair. 'There yet! Well, now, Donald, that's confounded strange! What can keep the beast up there?' Donald shook his head again with grave solemnity. 'That I can't say, doctor,'replied, 'but there he is, and there he'll stay, in spite of you. Didn't we fetch him home yesterday, and back he went like a flash. He was on the terrace as I came by, and when 1 called to him he gave a cry that was human. He's found something, doctor —there's no msitake about that!' 'Found what, roan? Wasn't the old house searched yesterday? I was over there myself. It was as empty as a drum', not even a stray ghost in sight.' 'So they told me; but the dog found something, all the same, I have every confidence in that dog. Somewhere, in that old house, there's a human creature hid, I'm msre of it!' 'Father?' It was the voice of Ambrose that called. Donald leaped to hi& feet as if a bullet had struck him, and made for the adjoining room, followed by the doctor and his wife. Ambrose was sitting up in bed, a look of eager intelligence on his white, haggard face. 'What was that you were saying about lhe dog, father?' he asked, as Donald reached him. 'ls he watching i at the old manor?' 'That's it, lad,' replied the father, 1 layine his hand on his son's head, while his rugged frame shook with repressed emotion; 'the dog's up there. But my son, I'm glad to see you getting better.' The mother tell on her knees by the bed, and began to weep noisily, while the doctor proceeded to mix a composing draft with all possible speed. 'Yes, father, I'm getting better,' j Ambrose continued. 'How long have ,

BY E.MIA GARBJ ON JONES. Author of "Pelf and Power," "StrathiEore'a Sin," Etc, etc.

I keen sick? How did I get home? I can't quite remember.' 'We found you up there, dead, as we thought, and fetched you home, my lad,' sobbed Donald. 'Yes, yes—you found me at the manor, you mean. There, father, pray don't worry, I'm all right now. Hew long since you found me ■'

''Twas yester morn, Ambrose— Wednesday mom.'

'And this is Thursday? Yes; and the dos's there yet?' 'there yet, Ambrose.'

'Here, you drink this young man,' interposed Doctor Nugent, proffering; his draft, 'and lie back upon"your pillows,, and keep your body quiet, and your tongue, too.' Ambrose swallowed the draft, but did not follow the little doctor's advice.

'Doctor, am 1 much hurt?' he asked.

'Well, quite seriously; but I'll have you on your feet in a fortnight

'Nonsense! I must go out to-day, at once !'

The doctor only laughed. 'Father,' said the young man, turning his haggard toward Donald, 'get out the sl°.igh and harness Black Bess. - I must go up to ths Haunted Manor at once.'

The father shook His head disapproving ]>-. 'I must go,' Ambrose continued, 'to satisfy my own eyes—to see what the dog has found. There was a woman there,' his white face flushing swiftly. 'I heard her. She may be there now, father. I must go and see ! Will you go with me?' 'A woman!' shrieks the dame, wringing ner hands. 'He's seen the murdered lady's ghost. Oh, my poor •Ambrose, enticed into that awful place on his wedding-night, and cheated of hia bonny bride,'

'Silence!' commands the doctor

sternly. 'Not a word more, if you value nis life. Young man.' he continues, turning to Ambrose, 'if you're not a lunatic you won't talk of leaving your bed in a week, much less leaving the house. The haunted manor was searched yesterday by the proper authorities, and not a soul found. Doubtless you were decoyed into a trap of some sort.' 'Spare your words, doctor, please,' smiles the young patient, 'and mix me a strengthening draft like an obliging fellow. Here, mother, help me into my clothes; and, father, hurry with-the sleigh, will you? Gracious heavens,' he goes on, leaping suddenly out of bed and standing tall and haggard, and resolute in their midst; 'a day and a night I've been lying here already, and she may be dead or dying! For mercy's sake, father, be quick— —' 'Do the best you can for him, doctor,' whispers Donald, as he goes out to harness Black Bess. 'There is not a bit of use in opposing him; he'l go if he crawls on his hand.: and knees.'

'More tool he,' growls the doctor, proceeding to prepare the draft. *I wash my hands of the whole business.'

Nevertheless, being a humane and obliging man at heart, when he finds that hia patient really will go, Doctor Nugent accompanies him. "Tis a judgment sent upon me and him for the wickedness I've done,' moans the wife of Donald, standing in the cottage door; as Black Bess starts off, all her silver bells ringing a merry peal. 'Look at him now, my handsome Jad, that I thought to see . Ishbel's "husband, well-nigh murdered, and his brain crazed, and the work of them wicked souls ad haunt the old manor. 'Tis a judgment on me; but I can't tell. I can't break Donald's heart, and be a happy man so many years. I've kept the secret so far, an I'll carry it to my grave!' 'Look! there's the dog on the terrace steps/ cries Donald, as they reach the mam gate. Ambrose leans forward and watches the animal as he comes flying down to meet them. 'What is it, my good dog?' he calls.

At sound of his master's voice the dog goes into ecstasies, leaping upon the seat, and licking the young man's hands, then with a wild, peculiar cry, he is off again in the direction of the manor. 'We must follow him, father,' says Ambro&e quietly. 'Give me your hand—l'm very stiff and sore.' 'You'll find yourself worse than stiff, boy, to morrow,' grumbles the doctor as Donald assists his son; 'and no- one to blame but yourself.' Ambrose only smiles in his quiet, resolute way, and, fastening Black Bess to a po3t, the three go on abreast, following the dog's lead. TO BE roNXINUED