A FATHER'S WILL OR HER OWN MISTRESS.

Western Star, Issue 1292, 27 February 1897, Page 2 (Supplement)

A FATHER'S WILL OR HER OWN MISTRESS.

> CHAPTER IV. . A TERRIBLE CHARGE. Mrs. Hartley looked blankly into the face of ihe servant, “ What do you mean ?” she faltered, brokenly, after a long pause. “ Who is dead ? What is the matter ?” And once more the woman gasped forth the terrible story. A body—the body of a woman young and fair had been found in the Haitley grounds, stone dead for hours. Who she was, and how she came there, were mysteries as yet unsolved. Rapidly the servant related the awful discovery. Mrs. Hartley’s face became ghastly white. She sank into a seal and lifted one white, jewel-starred hand with an imperious gesture. “Stop! That is enough—a _whole, whole chapter of horrors. I will hear no more. Go and attend to your duties. ' . The woman obeyed in sullen silence, and when the door had closed behind her, Mrs. Hartly started to her feet and faced her daughter, white and trembling. . “ What shall we do ?” wringing her white hands wildly, “ and where in the world is your father that he does not come to me with the news, but leaves it to a servant to shatter my . nerves with the awful tale? Ah ! there he is now, thank goodness! David, ’ as Hartley, pale and agitated, entered the room and sank helplessly into the nearest seat, “for the love of heaven tell me what is wrong ? What has happened ? Burton has been here with an awful tale, to which I refused to listen.” David Hartley shook his head slowly. ... •‘Ada, it is true, all true,’ he repeated slowly, “ Come and see for yourself.” He indicated the grounds without, She shrank back with a cry of terror. “No, oh, no! And yet perhaps 1 may be able to identify the body. If you think it advisable, David ” He opened the door. “ I think that you had better come, and Blanche and Myra also. An ominous darkness gathered over his face as that name passed his lips. “ People will think it strange if you do not show some feeling.” He had touched the right chord in that cold, worldly heart. She moved towards the door with swift footsteps, then halted and glanced back. “Where is that girl? Where is Myra? I have not seen her to-day, David,” glancing swiftly into his pale face. “ You must send her away. We can endure no more, Blanche and I. And now Hector has shown an interest in her. He saw her last night.” David Hartley’s face darkened visibly. He went over to the window and glanced out in search of the offender, but Myra was not there. He turned away. And so the trio got out into the grounds together out to an unused building where, upon a long table, something was lying still oh, so still! A group of pale, awe-stricken people were gathered round; they fell back in respectful silence as the master of the house entered, with the two shrinking, trembling women in his wake. • ' ' ' '•

“Sims?” <* Yes sir ** The gardener stepped swiftly forward. . . “Mrs. Hartley and Miss Blanche will look at the body. Have you, or has anybody identified the body, Sims?” Sims bowed his head deferentially, and said: _ . >. 46 Yes * He turned down the white sheet which covered the rigid face, and Mrs, Hartley and her daughter glanced fearfully towards it; A fair, childish little face, with half-open blue eyes, a pretty face framed in by yellow hair, with a babyish mouth, the white lips drawn back in a ghastly line from the pearly teeth. Mrs. Hartley recoiled with a stifled shriek. “ Enid ?” she panted wildly. “Oh, Blanche, don’t you see? It is Enid Raynor. Poor little Enid who used to sew for us. She lived ,in Myrtle Cottage with her old father. Oh, how did this happen ?” She turned about and confronted the gardener, standing near, pale and still. Sims bowed bis head with a grim expression settling upon his rugged features. “ Let them answer that as knows, ma’am, te returned bitterly. “ Some of them fine chaps that was here last night can tell you all about it.” “What do you mean?” she demanded in a husky whisper, “Sims, if you know or suspect anything come up to the house at once and tell me all. I demand it.” There was a silence for a brief space, and then Sims said : “ I’ll be there in five minutes.” Mrs. Hartley moved away, followed closely by Blanche. Once within the house, back in the breakfast-room, Mrs Hartley grew strangely calm. It was as though a sudden silence had come upon her life. She sent Blanch© away, and seated herself to await the gardener’s arrival. She had not long to wait, A rap . ' at the door, and a moment later the gardener stood before her. She glanced up with terror-filled eyes and said:

“Well?” The word dropped swiftly from her lips. Sims shuffled his feet ver uneasily.

V A LOVE ROMANCE. ■A

t “If you please, maam, it do sound bad for a semnt to tell tales on a gentleman as has been a-callin here ; but the truth is the truth. I think I’ve done right, and I was afeared to tell master. And ” He hesitated a moment, and then drew from a capacious pocket something wrapped up in a piece of newspaper With hands that had trembled in spite of him, he unrolled the paper and something fell upon the carpet at his feet. He stooped and picked it up gingerly, half fearfully handling the thing, with a look of horror and aversion upon his face. It was a pockethandkerchief, a gentleman’s handkerchief of fine cambric with an elaborate monogram in one corner hardly distinguishable now, however, for the whole handkerchief was saturated with blood. , , “ ’Twere found a-laym’ under the body, ma’am,” he explained solemnly. “ You’ll see there is a monogram in the corner.” Mrs. Hartley’s eyes glanced at the dainty embroidery, and fell back with a low groan. Could it be possible ? had she jumped too swiftly to a conclusion ? For she recognised the monogram. She had seen it before upon note-paper and other personal effects of its owner. The embroidered initials were “C. O’S ’ “ Sims -she lifted her frightened eyes to the gardener’s troubled face “do you know or have you any idea who was the owner of this handkerchief? Do >ou know anything of this unfortunate occurrence ?” Sims looked grave. “If you please ma’am, I don t like to tell what little I know about it ; the law won’t listen to what I suspect. But Enid was allers a flirty little thing—no harm in her, though—and there’s lots o’ gentlemen as used to pay her compliments, and seemed to be in love with her All I’ve got to say is this ; I’ve been khowin’ to the gal’s being friends with some o’ the fine gentlemen, and I’ve told her many’s the time that she was windin’ a bad thread for herself. But, ma’am, when a woman is once sot in her own way and detarmined upon a certain course ’specially if there’s a man in the case—there isn’t no way 6’ stoopin’ her 1 She’ll take no advice. And last night I seen her in the grounds these here very grounds—with a gentleman the owner o’ this handkercher, no doubt. They was walkin’ among the trees together, and then went down to the fur end o’ the grounds in company. That’s the last ! saw o’them, ma’am, until I found poor little Enid this mornin’layin’ on her face in the grassland the blood a-standin’ in a great purple pool all rouud her, and she 1 stone dead. Heaven rest her soul 1” i Mrs. Hartley was much moved, and then said ; , “ What is to be done ? have any steps been taken, Sims, to — to ” “ Arrest him ? Yes, ma’am. If you please, I didn’t want to tell you afore, and master, he don’t know a word o’ it yet, but I thought you all would blame me if 1 didn’t give the alarm, and so I spoke to the officer who came over from the. city. He went back quickly, ma’am, and he had good luck in taking the party, and Mr. Charlie O’Shea ’ was arrested for the murder I” “What?” ’

There was a wild cry, and the sound of flying footsteps, and at the open window stood Myra, pale and wildeyed, with a look upon her face Mrs. Hartley never forgot. “ What do you mean ?” she gasped, brokenly. “ Charlie—Mr. O’Sheaarrested for murder of that giri ? You must be mad!” *• The law will attend to all that,” observed Mrs. Hartley, striving to be calm. “It is false ! It is false !” moaned Myra, wringing her hands in mad despair. Charlie O’Shea is the truest, noblest man in tne world ! Aunt Ada, he shall be saved, if it lies within human power!” Great consternation reigned throughout the city when the awful news was told. Down in the Darlinghurst prison, Charlie O’Shea—pale and quiet—sat, waiting for what was to come. Many of his friends visited him in his lonely cell, and spoke words of kindly friendship and good cheer. His eyes danced a little with the old light, for he was full of hope, as he was conscious of his innocence.

Myra moved about the house like a ghost. She had evidently made up her mind to keep her own counsel, so she said little concerning Charlie O’Shea and the crime with which he was charged, Blanche watched her with sinister eyes. If ever a women hated another, Blanche Hartley hated her cousin, and never lost an opportunity to stab her to the heart with bitter words.

So time slipped by, and the day appointed for the trial was at hand. Then came the scene in the courthouse. An immense crowd, of course. Never before had the officials witnessed such a scene.

Like a marble image Myra Hartley sat in a retired corner, out of range of curious observers, and the trial commenced. It was not going to be a lengthy one, after all, for the witnesses were few. Old Sims testified to finding the body at seven o’clock the morning after the ball at St. Elmo. The handkerchief bearing Charlie O’Shea’s wellknow n monogram was brought into court and indenlifted by the prisoner himself.

But Charlie O’Shea persisted in

denying any„ acquaintance whatever with the dead girl; Enid Raynor was a stranger to him, he declared. But circumstantial evidence was piled up mountain-high, and circumstantial evidence has consigned men to the gallows before now, And then, just at the moment when the case looked blackest for the pri soner a slender, black robed figure—a drooping, trembling little figurestepped timidly into the witness-box Like one in a dream, Charlie O’Shea sat with his eyes riveted upon the childish face, white as driven snow, and the gold-brown eyes so full of pathos. They lifted themselves with a fearless earnestness, which somehow carried conviction with it, to the grave face of the judge, and then swept beseechingly over the twelve men who held Charlie O’Shea’s life in their hands. , :v *• If you please Sir-—” The sweet voice trembled so that it was scarcely audible. Then she caught a glimpse of a haughty, beautiful face in the midst of a group of the prisoner’s friends—the proud, dainty face of the womap who had already been pointed out to he, as Isabel Varian, and at sight of that face with its calm, surprised expression, Myra Hartley voice grew firm and clear. •‘lf you please, sir,” she repeated, “it could not have been Mr. Charlie O’Shea who did the awful deedeven if he were so bad—and I know that it is not possible, because the inquest and the trial both prove that the murder was commited at about midnight. And I was with Mr. O’Shea myself at that hour, sir, and until after one o’clock.” An awful, ominous silence settled down over the court-room. She stood still as the dead, and knew that she bad her own death-knelL Such a confession would sound bad, and she, innocent and good as she was, knew that it would be so.

A murmur ran through the court room —a low murmur which Was quickly subdued, as the judge, with a look of intense surprise flashing over his calmj impassive features, turned to the white faced, trembling girl. “ Do you comprehend—are you fully aware of the importance of what you are saying, Miss Hartley ?” he asked, a little huskiness creeping into his judical voice, in spite of himself Myra bowed her head for an instant, then up it rose again with a haughty little gesture. “I understand, sir; I think I fully realise what I am saying. I am upon my oath, your honour.” The judge bit his stern lip to suppress a smile which was about to creep into existence there.

“ Are you aware,” he continued, calmly, Ins eye still fixed upon her white, lily face, “that if the prisoner can prove an alibi he will be exonerated — set free ? You know the meaning of the word alibi ?”

It was Myra’s turn to smile now. *• I do, your honour, alibi means elsewhere ; and if it can be proved beyond a doubt that Charlie—Mr. O’Shea—was elsewhere at the time the awful deed was committed, he will be exonerated. But suppose he, being guiltless all the time, should be unable to prove an alibis it would be a horrible injustice to punish him ! Why, sir, if be were to be condemned to—to the gallows”—stopping short to choke down the lump in her throat which impeded her utterance —“ it would be legalised murder !’* There was a faint though speedily suppressed burst of applause from the further corner of the crowded courtroom. The judge tried hard to look unconcerned, but somehow made a failure of it. „ “ And do you realise, my child, said the judge, slowly, “ that by your confession you are compromising yourself by ” Charlie O’Shea started, pallid and trembling. “ Your honour, I beg your pardon, but I must speak. This is terrible 1 Do as you please with me, but, for Heaven’s sake, keep this young lady’s name out of discussion. I would rather be executed for a crime that I never committed than have her suffer in any way through me.” The judge motioned the prisoner to be seated, and Charlie sank back with a suppressed groan. His honour turned once more to Myra. “ You understand me ?” he asked. The drooping golden head uplifted itself once more. “ I suppose I do,” she faltered, brokenly ; “ but you see, sir, I am only telling the truth, and there is nothing to be ashamed of. I was not expected to appear, at the ball at St. Elmo, Uncle Hartley’s, for—for—my father has not long been dead, and I do not care for gaiety in any way ; but Aunt Ada—Mrs Hartley—said that I might go into the grounds to see the illumination. So, about eleven o’clock —no, it was fifteen minutes past eleven, I remember, for I glanced at the clock upon the stairs as I came down—l went out into the grounds, and wandered away to where there were no lights, but the moon was shining brightly. I seated myself upon a rustic seat which stands under the big oak tree, and I had not long been there when Mr. Charlie O’Shea came along. It might have been twenty minutes to twelve or thereabouts when he came. He seemed pleased to see me. We had meet before down at my old home in Parramatta so he sat down, and we talked and talked. Time went by, and we did not notice how late it was till we heard the clock in the stable-yard in the distance strike one. Mr. O’Shea looked at his watch in the moonlight, and it was just five minutes past one. I started up, quite frightened, for I knew that Aunt Hartley would be angry with me if she knewthat I had remained so long in the grounds talking with Mr. O’Shea. So I bade him good-night, but he insisted upon walking up to the house with me. I am glad now that he did, because I can prove that he went straight into the drawing room, while I

hurried upstairs. My cousin, Miss Blanche Hartley, was in the hall, and saw me go up the stairs, and there are doubtless a dozen people who can testify that Mr. O’Shea entered the drawing-room at about the same time. As for compromising myself in any way, your honour, I am innocent of any intentional harm. I have only told the truth. I did nothing wrong only in my disobedience of Aunt Hartley, for she did not wish me to mix with her guests, That is all I have to say, sir. Please may Igo now ?” The Judge nodded acquiescence, the jurymen glanced into each other’s faces, the prisoner drew a long breath of relief, It was all over—all over. “ All the hope, and the fear, and the longing ; All the deep, dull pain and the awful anguish of patience 1” Charlie O’Shea was a free man, and Myra Hartley had made him so. The brief formalities were ended, and Charlie left the prisoners box. He stepped into the court-room exonerated —cleared from the awful charge. Once there he was surrounded and congratulated by his friends with eager delight, and greeted by his brother, Tristram, with effusive affection. But Charlie made his way straight through the crowd, looking neither to the right nor left.’

“ Where is Myra Miss Hartley?” he asked eagerly. “ I must see her —and—and thank her 1 God bless her noble heart 1 she has saved my life T’

But there is no trace of Myta to be found. She had vanished from the court-house, and as far as Charlie O’Shea could discover; she had disappeared as though the earth had opened and swallowed'her up. When Myra left the witness-box and made her way through the gaping crowd, she hastened to where the Hartley’s were sitting in state. She expected to be received with silent rebuke, to put itself into words when home was reached. But she was not prepared for the frigid glare of silent contempt with which her aunt and cousin met her. Not a word or sign that they sympathised with her unpleasant predicament; only a swift, cold, freezing glance, and the pale, scornful faces were speedily averted. Myra’s heart bounded with angry resentment. It was unjust, it wus cruel; it was horrible for them to treat her thus in. the presence of that gaping, curious crowd. She crept to David Hartley s side, and ventured to lay her hand upon his arm.

Uncle David” in a low, faltering voice “ I wish to ” “ Hush 1 How dare you attempt any excuses for your unpardonable conduct ? Go home: go back to my house at once. You will find the phaeton outside; Brand will drive you home. Get out of my sight before Ido something in public which I may regret.” “ Uncle David, I will speak. I have done nothing wrong. I have only told the truth. Would you have allowed Mr O’Shea to die for another’s crime ?” David Hartley shrugged his shoulders. ’ ■

“ It is none of my business and it should be none of yours, A woman’s first duty is to herself, to keep her own name pure and untarnished. There may have been no real harm in your tete-a-tete with Mr O’Shea, but it was unconventional and not the custom in civilised society for a young lady to indulge in conversation with a young man in the grounds so late at night” “ But Uncle David, Blanche was walking with Mr Cantle alone in the garden for hours; yet you and Aunt Ada seem to think that all right. And anyway I could not stand idly by and see an innocent man condemned to death, or to a life-long imprisonment, which is even worse than death, when I knew that, he was not guilty. 1 could not and would not!”

“Areyou going to obey me? Go at once; the carriage is waiting. Your aunt and cousin will drive with me in the victoria, I will attend to your case later on.” Myra needed no urging. She had but one desire, that was to get away from the court-room, from the crowd and its staring eyes fixed upon her as though trying to read her thoughts. What had she done that was so strange and monstrous ? Merely told the truth; saved an innocent man from an ignominious death, or a death in life imprisonment. Her heart thrilled wildly at the thought of his escape. She passed through the open door of the old court-house and out into the fresh air, a glad feeling in her heart that she had been instrumental in his release. She found the phaeton with Brand in attendance, and was soon out of town and back at St Elmo,

Right through the groups which pressed about him, Charlie O Shea made his way, pausing only to thank the kindly sympathisers, yet feeling all the time that with all their sympathy and good will not one of them would have done for him what the young girl had done two hours before. “ Where is she ?” he muttered, as he left the court-house and glanced up the street. ®

And then his eye fell upon a carriage, the family victoria of Mr David Hartley. With hurried footsteps he reached its side Mrs Hartley and Blanche were already seated, and upon he front seat Mr Hartley and Tristram O’Shea. Charlie fell back involuntarily, then suddenly advanced. “ Mr Hartley,” with a little tremor in his voice as he held out his band — “ I wish to thank your niece for her noble deed to-day. May I speak with her?” To be Continued.